Twenty-four hours later, I was alone in a hospital bed, covered in chemical burns, with no one able to tell me if he was dead or alive.
My throat constricted. The room suddenly felt airless, the walls pressing in. Every nerve ending screamed for escape.
“You don’t get to tell me everything will be all right,” I said, the words barely audible. “You gave that privilege up five years ago.”
His grip on my finger loosened, and his jaw slackened. The room faded away, leaving just the two of us suspended in our moment of whatever the hell this was.
But my logical brain reminded me that everyone else was still there. Pity would inevitably follow the scene we’d made, followed by the team’s curious stares. Then, the humiliation of having exposed even a sliver of our past in front of them.
Without another word, I wrenched my finger from him and strode from the room, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached the bedroom I shared with Scarlett.
I closed the door behind me, pressing my forehead against the wood as I fought to steady my breathing. My heart hammered against my ribs as if it were trying to escape.
Part of me was furious that Rav had questioned my judgment about going to Pompeii without him, as if I needed his protection, his permission. As if I hadn’t been handling dangerous situations on my own for years.
But another part—the part I couldn’t shut up, no matter how hard I tried—remembered the security of having him as my designated protector in Afghanistan. How it felt to know he waswatching my back and keeping me from harm. How much I’d trusted him with my life.
Until I couldn’t anymore.
Chapter 24
Rav
Afghanistan,2019
I was halfway through cleaning my rifle when I heard the scream.
Brooke’s scream.
I moved before conscious thought, muscle memory taking over. Two months of working as her security detail had hard-wired her safety into my reflexes. I grabbed my pistol from the table, not bothering with a shirt as I bolted from the small, hard-sided building I shared with Eugene, the SAS.
Outside, I nearly collided with Percival, who’d emerged from his own quarters. He shared a room with another SEAL, all of us clustered in the Distinguished Visitor Quarters to keep our mission quiet.
“McAllister?” he asked, his own weapon already drawn.
“On it,” I answered, not slowing. “She’s mine.”
The scientists had their own quarters, but as the only female on our mission, Brooke was alone. I covered the distance in seconds, scanning for threats as I moved.
Brooke’s door was closed. I paused just long enough to announce myself.
“Brooke? It’s Rav.”
“Rav! Help!”
I pushed through the door, weapon raised, ready to neutralize whatever threat had made her scream like that.
Inside, Brooke McAllister, brilliant biochemist with remarkably steady hands, stood on her narrow wooden bed, pressed against the plywood wall. Her eyes were wide with terror.
“It’s over there!” She jabbed a finger toward the floor near her desk. “By my boots!”
I scanned the room, weapon still raised. Instead of the lethal threat I’d expected, I only spotted a small, light brown scorpion, its tail curved as it skittered across the floor.
“That’s what has you screaming?” I lowered my weapon, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“It’s venomous!” Her voice rose in pitch, defensive despite her apparent fear.
“It is, but it’s not a fat-tail. Those are the ones you need to worry about.” I secured my weapon and grabbed one of her field notebooks from the desk. It scrambled behind a stack of books, toward the door, which I slammed shut before it could escape. “It’s just looking for somewhere cool to hide.”
