“I ‘let it happen’?” Adam’s voice dropped, steel-cold. He took one step closer, chest to chest with my brother. “My team and I held that ridge until backup bothered to show. We bled for it. We damn near died for it. And you think you were the solution?”
Logan sneered, though his voice cracked with guilt under the anger. “If they’d let me fly—”
“If they’d let you fly,” Adam snapped, “you’d be in a body bag right now. And Raine would’ve watched it happen.”
The silence that followed was brutal. I pressed the sheet tighter around me, my pulse racing.
“Enough,” I said, my voice sharper than I felt. “Both of you.”
Logan turned his glare on me, but his eyes softened when he took in the bruises that cover ed what he could see. He sawthe bandage at my side. “You could’ve been killed.”
Adam’s hand found mine without hesitation, grounding me. “She wasn’t. Because we fought our way through it. Together.”
The word hung between us, heavier than the storm outside. Together.
Logan’s jaw worked, torn between fury and the relief he wouldn’t admit out loud. Finally, he shoved a hand through his hair and swore under his breath. “This isn’t over. Not by along shot. Something stinks about last night—backup being late, orders being held. Somebody’s pulling strings.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Then we find out who.”
Logan gave a sharp nod, then stormed back out, slamming the door behind him.
The silence left in his wake was almost worse than the shouting.
Adam exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “Well. Guess the honeymoon’s over.”
Despite everything, I let out a shaky laugh, leaning into him. “You think we’ll ever get one?”
His mouth curved, soft against my hair. “We’ll make one.”
48
Logan
The station stank of stale coffee and paperwork. I’d signed the release, gotten my belongings back, and still couldn’t shake the taste of blood in my mouth. My knuckles throbbed where they’d cracked against a deputy’s jaw.
I told myself I didn’t regret it. Not when they’d stood in my way. Not when Raine had been out there.
But the truth was, I wasn’t just angry. I was ashamed. While Adam Stoker and his men fought tooth and nail on that ridge, I’d been cooling my heels in a cell like some reckless teenager. My sister deserved better.
“Carter.”
The voice came from behind me, low and steady. Hawk. His arm was bandaged, his clothes torn, but his eyes were sharp as ever. He leaned against the doorframe, looking me over like I was a problem he wasn’t sure how to solve.
“You done throwing punches at deputies, or should I give you a new face to swing at?”
I ground my teeth. “You here to take a shot too?”
“No.” He pushed off the frame, walked closer, boots heavy on the tile. “I’m here because Stoker says you’re not useless. Andbecause I saw you fight once, years back, when you were a SEAL. You’ve still got something to offer.”
I snorted. “Funny. Didn’t look that way last night.”
Hawk’s gaze didn’t waver. “We all screw up. Question is—are you gonna sit in your shame, or are you gonna use it?”
My chest tightened. For a second, I thought about Raine—her limp, her bruises, the way she clung to Stoker like he was the only thing keeping her alive.
“What are you asking me, Hawk?”
He folded his arms. “We’re digging. Stoker’s right—backup was delayed on purpose. Somebody wanted us pinned down, maybe even gone. You want redemption? You want back in? Then join us. Help us find who’s pulling the strings.”
