“You had a vest.”
I roll my eyes. “And how often have we seen Kevlar fail? He could have tried to shoot me in the head. I made a decision. You weren’t there.”
He sits back, steepling his fingers in front of him. “No, I wasn’t. But the two hostages youdidn’tknow gave me a pretty detailed account of how things went down. Pritchard backed you. Of course.”
Shit.
“Who are you going to trust? A banker and a contractor who were so scared they’d pissed themselves? Or me and Pritchard?” I reach into my jacket pocket for the envelope that’s weighed heavily there since I got dressed this morning. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” Dropping the envelope in front of him, I swallow hard. “I’m out.”
“What?”
“I quit.” I turn to leave, not knowing what else to say.
“Sit your ass down,” he snaps. When I do, he levels me with a hard stare, his dark brown eyes almost black. “You’re going to let this op be the end of your career? For fuck’s sake, Trevor. You’re the best damn SSO we have. You think on your feet like no one else I’ve trained in fifteen years, and you’re throwing it all away?”
“I’m not ‘throwing it all away,’” I say, unable to keep the harsh edge from my voice. “I’m taking a path that doesn’t force me to choose between my best fucking friend and my country.”
“This is a mistake.” Oliver shakes his head. “I won’t sign off on this.”
“Then I’ll take it to Smythe. Because I can’t kill another person onorders. There’s too much blood in my ledger already, and Gil...shit. Iknowit was the right thing to do. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to sleep easy again. Ever.”
Ollie stares at me like he doesn’t know who I am anymore, and he’s probably right. After all,Idon’t know who I am.
“Take a week to think this over, Trev. Please.”
“Answer’s going to be the same. I wrote that letter before I left for Venezuela.” With a small shrug, I run a hand through my hair and wince as my stitches pull taut. “I’m done. Don’t try to delay the inevitable.”
Picking up his desk phone, the man I’ve worked under for five years punches a four-digit number. “This is Senior SSO Oliver Benton. I need an SSO processed out. Trevor Moana. Do it today. He’ll be in your office within ten minutes.”
The tension I’ve carried since leaving for Venezuela rushes out of me so completely, I’m surprised Ollie doesn’t hear thewhoosh. “Thank you,” I say quietly as I push to my feet and offer Ollie my hand. “If there’d been any other way...”
“There was,” he replies as his fingers tighten on mine. “I should have stopped you from going to Venezuela. I’m sorry, Trev.”
“That wouldn’t have kept me here.” As I turn for the door, I blow out a deep breath. “You’d have needed to stop Gil from turning in the first place. Everyone dropped the ball on that one. But no one more than me.”
* * *
The baron the outskirts of Langley is quiet for a reason. Special soundproofing makes each booth practically a cocoon. Austin’s waiting for me when I arrive, a pint of beer cupped in his large hands.
“You do it?” he asks after I give the bartender my order and slide in across from him.
“Yep.”
The man looks like he’s about to punch something. Or crumble into pieces. “I told Dani,” he says. “Some of it.”
“Did you tell her why?” The bartender brings over a pint of pilsner, and I nod my thanks.
“No. She doesn’t have a lot of memories of him. She should keep the good ones. Not the ones we...” Austin trails off, then rubs his fist against his heart. “All she knows is that you and I were injured in the same op that killed Gil. And that he died quickly. Mom and Dad…they don’t know either. We’re having a family memorial at the house next week. Nothing formal. If you can come…”
“No.”
“Trev—“
I can’t be there. Can’t pretend I’m not the reason the whole family’s grieving. “I should have seen the signs. Done something sooner. He almost killed you.”
Austin stares at his hands folded on the table as I look him up and down. He hid his pain from me until we got on the transpo out of Caracas. Gil broke two of his ribs, then tortured him with hundreds of shallow cuts to his torso the day before I flew in. No wonder his voice was so strained. I don’t know how he managed to stay upright.
“We both should have. You’re…” Pain tightens small lines around his lips, and emotion churns in his eyes. “You’re practically family, Trevor. Shit. How many nights did you eat dinner at our house when we were in high school? You spent spring break with us every single year.”
