Dale’s jaw flexed.“Apparently my logical brain is a dick, too,” he muttered.
Oren smiled faintly.“You’re both too damn hard on yourselves.”
“I pulled out without checking,” Dale said.“Didn’t confirm.Didn’t look.I just ...left.”
“But it’s not like you had a lot of time to do so,” Oren replied.“And it means something, that you carry that.That it still weighs on you.But don’t let it poison what we’re building now.”
He looked between them.“If something’s heavy enough to pull you out of bed without saying a word, you say it.If it drives you to beat yourself bloody in the gym, you fucking talk to me.We’re in this together.The three of us.Don’t shut me out.”
Ty and Dale both gave soft, almost breathless laughs.But Oren could see the shift.The release.The tension bleeding away as connection returned.
They stood, steadying Ty between them, and Oren pressed a kiss to Ty’s shoulder.
“Now come on,” he said.“Let’s get cleaned up.And then maybe someone can finally make me some damn coffee.”
****
Ty sat at Dale’s kitchenisland, the warm scent of coffee and toasted bread mingling with faint traces of last night’s dinner.Morning light spilled through the wide windows, pooling across the polished wood floors.Oren leaned against the counter, hair still damp from his shower, wearing one of Dale’s t-shirts like it was his own.Dale moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, his hands sure, every motion infused with a quiet focus.
Ty’s mind kept drifting back to the sparring session earlier.He’d been wound tight, and Oren had seen it—felt it in the sharpness of his movements—but Dale had been too caught up in the competitive heat to notice.It wasn’t surprising that Oren had picked up on it.The man was observant as hell, and had known him for years.
Ty reached for a slice of toast and groaned at the shards of pain that radiated from his arms and side at the movement.
Oren scoffed a laugh.“Sore, Ty?Fucking serves you right, going into that sparring session with the voices going off in your head.”
Ty grimaced, slowly rotating his shoulder.He couldn’t even argue because that was exactly what he’d done.
Dale set plates down with a faint clatter, his gaze briefly meeting Ty’s before flicking away.“Eat.You two look like you could use it.”
They ate in silence for a beat before Ty broke it, studying Dale over the rim of his mug.“You’ve been quiet since yesterday’s meeting, Dale.What’s been going on?”
Dale exhaled slowly, setting his fork down.“I’ve been thinking about Hogan.You know, since we found out Kai was part of Eli’s abduction, he hasn’t been the same.Keeps it buttoned up, but I can see it.It’s the same look Ricky had after Ezra left—like he’s carrying something so heavy he’s afraid to set it down.”
Oren’s brow furrowed.“This is the first I’ve heard you say anything about it.”
“Yeah,” Dale admitted, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.“Guess I didn’t want to put it out there unless I had to.But I’m not letting another brother slide into that kind of darkness if I can help it.”
Ty felt that one deep.He knew what it was like, carrying worry for someone you cared about—how it gnawed at the edges of you, made you restless.He made a silent promise right then.Next time he saw Hogan, he’d have a word, even if it was just to let him know he wasn’t alone.No one should have to shoulder that kind of weight by themselves.
Oren frowned.“You think Hogan’s close to doing something reckless?”
“I think he’s already carrying too much,” Dale said, voice low.“And pain like that makes men dangerous—to themselves and everyone else.”
The conversation shifted.Ty noticed Oren’s posture stiffen when Carson’s name came up.He’d clocked it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.
Oren’s voice was even when he spoke, but Ty knew the control it cost him.“What he said to me ...it was personal.‘This is far from over.Some debts don’t get forgiven.’”
Ty studied him, the blunt honesty cutting deeper than if he’d tried to brush it off.“You think this goes back to our service days?That maybe you crossed paths before?”
Oren’s jaw tightened.He looked down at his coffee, eyes distant.“I don’t remember him.Not his face.But the way he spoke ...he blames me for something.I can’t shake the feeling it’s tied to what happened back then.To being taken.”
He hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter.“There were nights in that cell where all I saw were dark shapes in the dark.Guards who played games with us, pitting us against each other, trying to break us down.They’d laugh when one of us cried out.They’d drag one of us out and bring him back bloody just to make the rest of us watch.Carson wasn’t one of us—that I would absolutely remember—those men, fellow soldiers who never made it out.Harrison Walker, Jonty Rivers, and Franklin Knight.Their names, their sacrifices, I will remember for all time.Then there were the mostly faceless assholes who tortured us.Farid, with the scar that split his lip.Hamid with ice-blue eyes, who liked to use his fists, and Javed, who spoke barely any English but knew enough to mock us with our own words.Their faces stayed with me, burned into memory the way we were trained to notice details—scars, builds, voices.They have lived in my nightmares for years.”
His knuckles whitened around his mug.“I thought I’d buried all that.But when Carson spoke to me yesterday, it felt like being back in that cell.Like the walls were closing in again.”
Dale’s gaze locked on him, sharp and protective.“Then we dig.We’ll find out what the hell his angle is.But make no mistake—this isn’t on you, Oren.Whatever he thinks, whatever grudge he’s carrying, it’s not yours to bear alone.”
Ty leaned forward, nodding.“We look at his work history, sites he’s been on in the last three years.If he’s been shadowing us, there’ll be a trail.”He forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.“Guy’s not half as clever as he thinks.”
