“Five minutes,” I manage before they unlock my door. “Be back in five minutes.”
“We’ll be back when we’re back.” Austin shoots Trev a look I don’t understand before shutting the door.
“I set up cameras in the hall, the elevator, and at all exterior exits. No one’s getting in,” Trevor says, clapping me on the shoulder.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I jerk away, stumble, and crash to my knees in front of the fridge. “Goddammit!”
Trev thrusts his hand out in front of my face. I don’t have much of a choice. After the beating those Ministry assholes gave me, I’m more broken than ever. Clasping his forearm, I let him help me to my feet, but shake off his hold so I can limp to the table under my own power.
“Want to tell me about that giant stick up your ass?” Trev asks when he takes a seat across from me. “Because when I was in your shoes, I didn’t understandwhyDax and Ry would fly halfway around the world for me, but I sure as shit wasn’t an ungrateful bastard about it.”
He’s right. But admitting it? I don’t know how.
“I work alone.” Staring down at my right hand, I flex the fingers that no longer feel a damn thing. “Twenty-two years, and all but maybe a dozen of my ops were solo.”
Trevor’s brown eyes darken, and he runs a hand through his hair. “So were mine, dumbass. Try again.”
I stare at the door, willing Austin and Domina to return. Both because I can’t stand having her out of my sight and to save me from this conversation.
“They’re staying at Domina’s until I tell Austin you’re done being a colossal jerk.”
I’m out of the chair so fast, the room starts to spin. Even dizzy, my reflexes aren’t total shit, and I grab Trevor’s arms, hauling him up and pinning him against the wall. “You had no fucking right!”
“I had every fucking right.” The lethality in Trevor’s tone warns me to step away, but I don’t listen. He doesn’t move, doesn’t fight me, doesn’t do a damn thing but hold my gaze. “I haven’t gone on mission since Venezuela. Traveled with Dani a couple of times, but that’s it. Dax and I agreed. Unless it’s a member ofthis familyin trouble, I stay in Boston.”
“Then why are you here?” If my voice weren’t so hoarse, I’d be shouting, but instead, the words aren’t much more than a harsh whisper.
“Don’t you get it?” Trevor shakes his head. “You’re family, asshole. For years, you were one of the only people I could talk to. When Dani and I needed help, you got us out of the country. No questions asked. And even though you were stuck in the van with Ronan—trust me, I know how unpleasant that is—without your help, I’d be dead. One more victim of La Crypta and that piece of shit Ochoa.”
Shock steals my words and any fight left in me. I stagger back, unsteady on my feet until Trev takes my arm and guides me over to the couch. “Sit before you end up on your ass again.”
“I can’t protect her.” Dropping my head into my hands, I pull at tufts of hair, needing the pain as some sort of penance. “I’m too old. Too slow. Too fucked up to keep Domina safe.”
“The hell you are.” The couch creaks as Trev drops down next to me. “When I found you in that warehouse nine years ago, I thought you were dead. It took me almost an hour of recon before I could get into position, and I heard…everything.”
I can’t look at Trevor. It doesn’t matter that he’s my friend. That he’s seen me at my worst. That he—unlike anyone else in this world—understands how easy it is to break a man. And how hard it is to put yourself back together.
“You survived.” This time when he touches my shoulder, I don’t slap his hand away. “Hell, you did more than that. You had anothernineyearsin the field. Took down more members of the Loma Collectivo than any of us.”
“And I couldn’t get through most days without a drink. Or three,” I manage.
“So?” Trev asks. “You’re sober now. I saw the video, Leo. The sun reflecting off the scope? Half the operators I know wouldn’t have seen that with two good eyes. You did. You fought off Cortez’s security detail long enough to convince them of the danger. No. You’re not going to beat anyone in a fifty-yard dash. Except maybe a five-year-old.”
I choke out a laugh. “You find any five-year-old criminal masterminds, I’m your guy.”
“Nah. We save those for the probies at Second Sight and Hidden Agenda. Everyone needs an easy win their first op.” Trev leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You never wondered why your SSO didn’t confine you to desk duty?”
“Every damn day.” I glance over at him, wondering why we’ve never talked like this before.
“You’re too damn smart. Observant as fuck. And your instincts are better than anyone I’ve ever met. Balin knew you were still the most valuable asset he had—even with only one eye and more titanium than bone in your ankle.”
“Balin’s an asshole. After rehab, I asked to be assigned anywhere but Venezuela. He denied my request. I didn’t stay in Caracas because Ilikedit there. I stayed because I didn’t have a fucking choice.”
For what feels like forever, neither of us say another word. Until Trevor sighs. “I didn’t know.”
“No one did. Balin left me alone. He didn’t care that I ended most my days with too much rum or that my reports were always late. And I didn’t care that all I could do was gather intel. It was a shitty life, but it was mine. Until…”
“These men are your friends. They would understand.”
