Liam arched an eyebrow. “Take it from someone who knows. They will always be your team.”
Jamie raised his whiskey glass in a silent toast before following Liam over to the plush synthleather sofas and armchairs. Liam took a seat on the sofa, sprawling out and getting comfortable. He gazed around the flat, taking in all the little details that made it a home. Holopics took precedence over artworks. The furniture was functional as opposed to decorative. The place looked lived in and not sterile, nothing like Clarence House, where Liam used to live.
These days, Liam called the little cottage on the grounds of Kensington Palace home. He had moved out to further isolate himself from his family in order to protect them. Several of his cousins still lived in Clarence House, but he had been relegated behind the security circle on one of the bigger properties. It still rankled, but he understood why it had been done. As with the decisions regarding his command, it left a sour taste in his mouth.
“How have you really been?” Jamie asked.
“As well as can be expected,” Liam said with a shrug.
Jamie stared at him with a knowing look in his eyes, the same sort of gaze that had seen right through Liam’s bullshit as children. Of all the friends Liam had had over the years, Jamie was the one who most closely lived the same sort of life Liam did. It didn’t matter that Jamie wasn’t royalty. He still came from a wealthy family, still understood the spotlight, and still understood what it meant to serve.
Jamie understood what it meant to lose pieces of yourself on the say-so of others.
“It’s a hard transition,” Jamie said.
“If I had my way, it wouldn’t be happening.”
Jamie shook his head. “It’s not anything I had wanted either. I’d like to say you get used to the change, but I’d be lying if I did. It’s not easy. There are days I still wish we were in the field because I know our skills are needed, but we can’t be deployed. Not anymore.”
“Your people still could be.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Liam thought about the unwavering loyalty Jamie’s team had for the other man. They were loyal to their country, of course, but that loyalty paled in comparison to the way they had followed Jamie. Some might call it blind, but Liam knew that wasn’t the case.
If Jamie had been any less than the honorable man Liam knew him to be, the mess concerning the black-market Splice labs and rogue metahumans working with terrorist groups would be a different situation entirely. But Jamiewashonorable, and that was the only reason he and his team had managed to escape the majority of the negative press and labels people with ulterior motives had sought to paint them with. In all honesty, there was no escaping all the boxes Jamie and his team had been inelegantly shoved into.
Part of that was politics. Part of it was simply humanity.
“Samaira seems to do just fine without me,” Liam said with just a touch of bitterness.
“I’m sure she wishes you were there with her.”
“It’s been months since I fought with them. My last mission was bollocks. A bloody greenie could’ve done it. I keep trying to get on the field proper, but the brass won’t authorize it.”
Jamie grimaced. “You have to know why they’ve made that decision.”
Liam leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. He tightened his grip on the glass and tried not to break it. “I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
They were both officers, both having been in charge of the men and women they led into battle time and time again. That sort of camaraderie wasn’t easily discarded—if it even could be. Liam knew Jamie understood how much he hated having his team fighting without him. He was probably the only one who did. Not wanting to give up their teams to others was a personality trait Liam saw nothing wrong with owning up to.
“We can’t help the families we were born into,” Jamie said quietly. “They’re gilded cages no one else will understand simply because of the wealth our names give us. But money isn’t everything.”
“I am well aware of that.”
“Then find something else to do with your life. Your government may not want you in the field, but there are other avenues you can take to continue working with your people.”
Liam tilted his head forward to sip at his whiskey. “Speaking from experience?”
Jamie gave him a weary sort of smile. “I’m still figuring out my place.”
Liam gestured with his glass in Kyle’s direction. “I thought you had found it?”
The easy emotion that settled on Jamie’s face as he looked over at Kyle—that of love and trust and a deep connection which spoke of shared experiences—was something Liam hoped to feel one day. Being loved not for his name or rank or wealth seemed so unattainable right now after everything that had happened. Liam wanted what Jamie had found in Kyle—a partner and lover who was an equal in all the ways that mattered.
Liam blinked, memories flashing back to last spring when he’d seen Jamie after the other man had shot Kyle through the heart. The situation had absolutely gutted Liam, and he’d hated that he hadn’t been able to stay with Jamie at the time. The United States government had prioritized the safety of high-profile guests in the aftermath and members of the British royal family had been put under twenty-four-hour protection. They hadn’t been able to remain on American soil. Once it was safe to leave, they were given a military escort back to the United Kingdom where everyone seemed to have wanted a piece of him.
Not everyone in Liam’s family had been aware he was a metahuman. Years ago, when he’d survived the Splice attack, the UMG hadn’t cleared anyone but his parents, his brother, and the queen to know about his classified identity. The media mess that had greeted them after their return from the United States last year was something Liam did not ever want to repeat.
