He turned his chair to look out over the city lights flickering against the ocean beyond.He didn’t look back at the flames he still enjoyed on screen from the fire the night before.He didn’t need to.The fire was just the first spark.The real blaze was still to come.
Chapter Nine
The warehouse buzzedwith the sharp rhythm of preparation—rifle bolts checked, gear laid out, maps pinned to the table under strips of duct tape.The plan was clear—hit the Bratya mansion on the outskirts of town, fast and hard.Take out as many as they could, free the women and children they suspected were being held, and strip the place of everything else—money, guns, drugs.Whatever they couldn’t use, they’d destroy.Tonight would cut a piece out of the Bratya, and be the downfall of them here on the islands.
Hogan leaned against a crate, watching the flow of bodies and chatter.It was the calm before the storm, the kind of focus that hummed like electricity before a strike.Black Tide and the Pathfinders worked side by side, packing mags, checking night-vision goggles, counting charges of C4 and wiring comms.It was a dance they all knew by heart.Marsh and Luca argued about frequency bands, each insisting theirs was more secure.Dev smirked, half-listening while sharpening a knife.Surge prowled the maps with Bateman, the two of them muttering like they were back at some command tent in a war zone.The smell of oil, gunpowder, and adrenaline thickened the air.
He scanned the warehouse and caught sight of Kai slipping out, heading for their van parked just outside the wide rolling door.Hogan knew that look—Kai was going to change into tactical gear.He hadn’t said a word since the debrief earlier, and Hogan could see the hesitation etched into every line of his shoulders.Without hesitation, Hogan followed.
Inside the van, the air was cooler, quieter.The hum of voices outside was muffled, replaced by the sound of Kai unzipping a duffel.He was moving slower than usual, his hands brushing past shirts and tactical pants, pulling gear together but not with his usual sharp confidence.There was a weight in his posture that Hogan couldn’t ignore.
Hogan didn’t give him a chance to retreat behind silence.He closed the distance in two strides, dropped to his knees, and wrapped his arms around Kai’s waist, pressing his face against the warmth of his stomach.The cotton of Kai’s shirt smelled faintly of detergent and the sexy as fuck scent that was all Kai, grounding and intimate.His eyes burned, the pressure behind them sharp and unrelenting.
Kai froze, startled.His hand came down to touch Hogan’s hair, fingers brushing through it.“What’s wrong?”
Hogan’s voice cracked.“Listening to you tell that story ...knowing you left because of me—because you thought protecting me was worth more than your own damn life.You were willing to let me live without you.I can’t—” His throat closed, the words ragged.He shook his head hard against Kai’s shirt.“I couldn’t do that.I can’t live with that thought.”
For a moment Kai said nothing.Then his hands moved, firm and steady, cupping Hogan’s face, tilting it up until their eyes locked.His voice was low, fierce.“You’re wrong.You would’ve done the same.You already have—you’d do whatever it took, whatever was needed.Don’t cheapen what we are by thinking you wouldn’t fight for me the same way I fought for you.”
Hogan swallowed hard, fighting back the tide.“I just...I keep thinking about how it must have felt for you.Standing in that hospital room and walking away.Making that choice, knowing I’d wake up without you and not remember, but that you would.That’s a wound I can’t imagine carrying.”
Kai’s expression softened, but his tone stayed sharp.“It cut me open, Hogan.But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you alive.That’s the truth.That’s love.You don’t get to argue me out of it.”
Hogan’s breath shuddered out.He searched Kai’s gaze, saw the steel there, the truth he couldn’t ignore.Slowly, he nodded.Kai bent, pressing their foreheads together.The moment stretched, sharp and tender, binding them tighter than any vow.
They stayed like that for a long beat, Hogan’s arms tight around Kai, Kai’s fingers still against his jaw.The hum of preparation from the warehouse seeped back in—the clack of a magazine, the murmur of voices—but in the van, it felt like the world had narrowed to the two of them.
Finally, Hogan rose, pulling Kai into a rough embrace.“Then let’s finish this,” he murmured.“So I can spend another night with you, locked in your arms instead of my own head.”
Kai’s mouth curved, half a smile, half a promise.“Deal.”
Hogan let out a low laugh, shaky but real.“And when this is over, I’m making you pancakes.I don’t care if we’re in the middle of a damn firefight, I’ll find a skillet.”
That earned him a quiet chuckle, and Kai shook his head.“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” Hogan said, pressing a kiss to his temple.“And you love it.”
