Team Specter was at a standstill. Most of his men gave Aberlour a wider berth than usual. There were some unenthusiastic nods and smiles here and there whenever their eyes met. He avoided them as much as possible, spending as much time away from their rooms as he could. Training, fucking, and lots of drinking were his preferred methods of escape. It was a coward’s way out, of course, but it was better than nothing. He’d taken a page out of Oliver’s playbook.
It couldn’t last though.
Ghost, surprisingly enough, was the one who brought things to a head about two weeks after Oliver’s hospitalization.
Aberlour walked into the common area outside the bedrooms shared by Team Specter, and found his men sprawled on the sofa and chairs playing video games, as usual. Themood in the room was lighthearted, but it darkened as soon as Aberlour arrived. He didn’t bother acknowledging the change as he simply made a beeline for his bedroom. He was only there to change, then he’d be out the door, and they’d be free of him again.
He was three steps away from his bedroom when the video game was put on pause, the sudden absence of gunfire and explosions making him stop and turn around.
“They’re releasing him tomorrow,” Ghost said in a normal tone of voice. Hearing him speak like that was startling.
“Good,” Aberlour replied, keeping his tone neutral.
“Good?” Ghost repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”
Aberlour’s hands fisted at his sides. He wanted to push the door open and shut it behind him, effectively ending the discussion before it could begin, but he knew it wouldn’t work. If Ghost had decided to open this can of worms, nothing would close it until he got what he wanted. They’d follow him into his bedroom without any qualms. Aberlour didn’t doubt that in the least.
He sighed and shrugged as he stared at Ghost.
“The doc was confident he’d make a full recovery. Now they’re releasing him. It’s good news,” Aberlour responded politely in an attempt to pacify Ghost and the others.
Ghost wasn’t buying it. He sat on the couch, his expression filled with disbelief and—was it anger, or annoyance in his eyes? Aberlour couldn’t be sure.
“Sit.”
Aberlour raised an eyebrow, surprised to be ordered around by the least confrontational guy on his team. Aberlour scoffed and shook his head, turning towards the door of his bedroom.
“Sit!”
Aberlour took a deep breath, refusing to listen, he lifted a hand, ready to ignore the command and leave them all—
“If you ever gave a single fuck about this team, you’ll sit down and listen.”
A bullet through the jaw would have been less painful than the insinuation that Aberlour didn’t care about his men. He spun around to face the room, jaw clamped tight, eyes dancing with fury as he stomped over to where Team Specter was assembled.
Marcus looked uncomfortable, staring at his hands in his lap, deliberately avoiding Aberlour’s gaze. JD sat next to Ghost, arms crossed, right hand still clutching the video game remote. His expression was similar to that of Ghost’s, demonstrating the strong possibility that they’d been working on a plan together. The two were so distinctly different that knowing they’d been in cahoots should have been funny—except Aberlour had lost his sense of humour. Carlos sat between JD and Marcus, looking enraged as his small black eyes scrutinized Aberlour. He wanted blood—and Aberlour thought he might just get it.
“Sit,” Ghost said again, lowering his tone this time, gesturing to the coffee table in front of the couch. Rolling his eyes, Aberlour settled himself down on it, his legs too long for the low table, so he extended them and leaned back on his hands.
No one said anything at first. They just stared at him. Aberlour hitched an eyebrow in defiance and stared right back.
“Everything’s fucked,” JD said, breaking the silence and surprising all of them.
“Oli will be fine—”
“I’m not talking about Oli!” JD shouted angrily, interrupting Aberlour. “Thisteamis fucked. Ya’ll fucked it up,” he accused blatantly. “I don’t know what the mess between youand Oliver is, and frankly—Dumber—I don’t care, but I’m sick and tired of pretending that I don’t see you hurting.”
It wasn’t exactly what Aberlour had thought JD—or any of them—would say. He began shaking his head in denial.
“We might be dumbasses—but we’re not blind,” Ghost said earnestly and carefully.
It was ridiculous.
“There’s nothing to say,” Aberlour replied.
“Abe—they could write encyclopedias with all the things you don’t say—that doesn’t mean you’re okay,” Marcus said, matching Ghost’s concerned tone.
“Oli will be back with us tomorrow. Things will get back to the way they were,” he stated with a dismissive shrug.
