Chapter Seven
Later that night, theair at the warehouse buzzed with noise and heat.The Pathfinders and Black Tide had claimed every corner—gear stacked, weapons laid out, laughter rolling over the concrete.Bateman had declared the real planning would start in the morning.Tonight was for beer, food, and figuring out how two very different crews would mesh together.
Kai noticed Hogan had been quiet all evening.Cold, even.Each time he asked something, Hogan shut him down—not cruelly, but firmly enough that it stung.They ate dinner at one of the long steel benches, banter carrying around them, but Hogan’s silence burned louder than the noise.
When Hogan finally pushed back his chair, his voice cut across the chatter.“Kai and I are heading back to camp.”
The table went quiet for a beat, then Ricky grinned.“Already?Didn’t take you long.Guess we know who’s getting lucky tonight.”
Dale smirked, arms folded across his broad chest.“Yeah, Hogan always did prefer an early night when there was a warm body involved.”
The jokes died quick when they caught Hogan’s face—stone-serious, eyes shadowed.The grin slipped off Dale’s mouth.Ricky raised his hands in surrender.“All right, all right.No harm meant.”
Dale shifted, arms dropping, his voice lower now.“Sorry, man.I was just being a dick.”He turned to look at him.“Hogan ain’t like that Kai, I promise.”
Hogan spat back, sharp, “Damn right I’m not.”
Dale gave a short nod.“Yeah.I know.My bad.”
Ricky chimed in quickly, hands still up.“Yeah, me, too.Didn’t mean anything by it.Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
Kai, already pissed at being iced out all evening, leaned back and let the words slip sharp.“Obviously I know that already, but if you two laughing hyenas wanna laugh at the expense of my pain, go for it.And you,” he pointed at Hogan, “you are no doubt looking for alone time.Go on, Hogan.Don’t let me hold you up.”
Hogan stepped into him, close enough that Kai could feel the heat off his chest.“No.We need to talk.”
“Now you wanna talk?”Kai snapped.“We had all fucking day to do that.”
“Not about this,” Hogan said, low and even.“What I have to say needs to be said in private.”
“And what if, after today’s cold shoulder, I just don’t want to listen to you.”
Hogan’s voice dropped, steady but frayed at the edges.“Then don’t listen.Just ...be there beside me.Every time I try to remember us, it’s like chasing smoke, Kai.The headaches come and the pieces slip away before I can hold them.I know something’s there.I know you’re there.If we don’t talk tonight, if I don’t anchor to something real, I’m afraid it’ll all be gone again.”
Kai’s jaw locked.Damn him for making him feel sorry for him, for making him feel empathy—for making him fucking feel!He shoved back from the bench.“Fine.Let’s go then.”
The walk to their van was short and sharp, silence stretching heavy between them.The warehouse wasn’t far, just down a few miles north on the same stretch of native title land.Kai climbed into the passenger seat and planted himself there, arms crossed, refusing to speak.Hogan drove without a word.
Back at their campsite, Hogan waited while Kai showered, pacing outside the bathroom door.When Kai came out, towel slung low, Hogan wordlessly tended the wound at his side, careful hands betraying none of the frustration in his eyes.He grabbed fresh bandages, pressed them into place, then tossed Kai a t-shirt.
Kai tugged it on, impatient.“Well?You dragged me out here.Let’s talk.”
Hogan stared at him for a long moment, then straightened.“I’m heading down for a swim first.”
Kai blinked.“A swim?Are you kidding me?I thought we were talking.”
