Than stopped breathing.
Mei looked between them, uncertainty flickering. “Too much?”
Fly didn’t hesitate. “No. That’s it.”
Than swallowed. “You look…right.”
The word landed differently than pretty would have. Mei’s shoulders eased. She smiled, softer now, and something settled into place between the three of them.
5
Naval Amphibious Base Little Creek, Tier 1 Cages, Virginia Beach, Virgina
As soon as the door to the cages slammed shut behind him, Breakneck wondered what kind of punishment Ice was about to dish out. To get out of Virginia Beach, he’d do anything.
Ice turned, leaned back against his own cage, and folded his arms across his chest. That look…Christ. Breakneck felt it go straight through him like the man could read his goddamn mind.
“What is up with you?”
Breakneck stiffened. This wasn’t a chewing-out.
Ice was concerned. Fuck me. “Nothing,” Breakneck muttered.
Ice shifted, jaw ticking, shaking his head with that low, dangerous disappointment that always landed harder than his rage. “You’ve never gone rogue before, kid. So I’m guessing something’s sticking in your craw. If you think I’m letting you walk into an undercover op fucked up, think again.”
Breakneck dropped his gaze, shame twisting in his gut until he thought he might be sick. It was bad enough that Boomer had seen him like that. But Ice? He couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t.
“I’m working through something,” he said quietly. “I can handle undercover in my sleep.”
Ice pushed off the cage and came to stand right in front of him, close enough that Breakneck could feel the weight of him, the authority, the goddamn care under every hard edge.
“You remember you’re part of a team, hotshot?”
“I never forget it.”
Ice studied him for a long, heavy beat. Then nodded once. “That better be the case.” He narrowed his eyes. “You ever been under before?”
Breakneck felt something tighten, deep and hot and painful, in his chest. His throat worked. “You worried about me? Is that why you’re putting up all these barricades?”
Ice looked like he could chew glass.
“Yeah, junior,” he growled. “I worry. So don’t fucking keep me up at night.”
For the first time since he’d screamed himself raw in the forest, something inside Breakneck eased just a fraction. This man wasn’t his biological father. Not in demeanor. Not in soul. Ice was in a class by himself.
His care, his unapologetic, unflinching care, broke through the numbness for one clean breath.
Breakneck inhaled and didn’t fall apart.
Two hours later, he was waiting at the sleek, pure white Slipstream jet, then suddenly Ice was on the tarmac, stalking toward them like his tail was on fire.
Breakneck slipped between his CO and the DEA agents.
“You went over my fucking head again.” There was a killing frost flowing off Ice.
Agent Carver smirked. “I told you we have it covered. We just need the kid, not your backup like we’re amateurs, and we really don’t need your freaking attitude, Chief.”
Breakneck whipped around. “That’s Master Chief Snow to you, you smug bastard.”
