“Cece,” he said, a strained note in his voice, “if they can’t separate me from you, they have orders to terminate.”
“I just think it’s not fair to— What?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. Cecilia stared blankly at the side of his helmet. “Terminate? What do you mean?”
“Shoot on sight,” he clarified. “I would be deemed an unacceptable risk to a civilian and the population. Standing orders are to put us down in the event that we can’t be restrained.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Cecilia collapsed back into her padded seat, nausea churning in her belly. “Oh. Okay.”
Hours dragged by. The silence was heavy between them as she digested what he’d told her. She tried to, anyway.She’d never done well with guilt. Her parents had wielded it against her at every opportunity, molding her into the grinning, recovering people pleaser that she was.
Dahlia liked to remind her that just because she felt guilty for something didn’t mean it was her responsibility. Objectively, she knew that to be true. Sloane’s relationship with his unit — pack,family —was not hers to maintain or destroy. That was entirely his decision.
But she couldn’t help but feel like itwasher responsibility, and not just because he was choosing her over them.
She didn’t know Sloane well. Or more accurately, she didn’t know him indetail.That would come later. What she knew now was that he couldn’t truly appreciate the gravity of what he was risking.
Her elf had never known a world without his team. Not since he was a kid, anyway. He didn’t know who he’d be without them, and it didn’t sound like he’d put much thought into what that would mean. Not because he didn’t care, but because ithurt.
And Cecilia didn’t fucking like the thought of her elf hurting.
She couldn’t stop picturing those sad eyes in that beautiful face. He’d looked at her like she was everything good in the world, like she’d make every evil thing that’d been done to him right again.
Cecilia couldn’t do that, but she was damn determined to find a way to makethisright.
She turned the problem over and over in her mind, trying to see it from every possible angle as they drove into dawn. The main problem she faced was her lack of functional knowledge of elvish culture and the inner workings of their hierarchy. She thought she had a pretty good grasp on EVP law, considering her past relationships, but obviously she didn’t if someone, somewhere had the authority to just put a man like Sloane down for running off with a girl.
It was as they were approaching the border into Nevada that she thought to ask, “Why did you suddenly decide today that we had to go?”
Sloane took a moment to answer. “I knew we would likely have to leave quickly.”
“Yeah,” she dragged out, “but you didn’t seem like you were in a hurry a couple days ago. What changed?”
“I… was informed that I had forty-eight hours to return to service. During that time, my reason for failing to appear for duty became obvious.”
Cecilia made a face at the dark road that stretched beyond their windshield. A touch of blue and pink had begun to limn the horizon beyond the craggy desert mountains, highlighting the stars that shone over their heads.
Trying to puzzle out when they hadn’t been together in the last two days, she asked, “When did this happen?”
Again, Sloane took a minute to respond. “After our date.”
“When after our date? We went to bed after— well, you know.”
Adjusting his grip on the wheel, he haltingly explained, “After you fell asleep, I left to follow up on Duke’s business associates. I wanted to be sure you weren’t in any danger from past orders or unhappy business interests. While I was out, I was waylaid by three members of my unit.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
She was surprised by the punch of hurt that struck her right in her solar plexus. It wasn’t like they’d talked about things like that, and gods knew they’d been pretty busy doing more pleasurable things the past few days, but it still stung.
“I didn’t want to concern you,” he replied, quieter than before. “And if I only had forty-eight more hours with you, I didn’t want to waste them.”
Really working up a head of steam, she bit out, “I can appreciate that, Sloane, but what if something had happened to you? What if your team members dragged you back to the barracks or Patrol caught you or— or you fell down a fucking flight of stairs?”
Nonplussed, he argued, “I would not fall down a flight of stairs. I’m very capable.”
“First of all,everyonecan fall down a flight of stairs,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “And second, it’s not about that! It’s about the fact that if something had happened to you, I wouldn’t have known. I have to know, Sloane!”
He seemed incapable of understanding the source of her ire. Sloane rolled his shoulders a mite stiffly when he assured her, “There’s no need to worry. You were safe. I locked you in the bedroom.”
For a split second, she actually lost her voice. That didn’t happen very often. Ceciliaalwayshad something to say. But that confession smacked her gob so hard, it damn near flew into the back seat.
