Liz wakes to an empty bed. She takes her time getting ready for the day, not at all excited to comb through more files from the general’s computer.
After the first day they arrived, Riley had their supplies organized, catalogued, and repacked. Everyday since they have been forced to help Tyler and Alex with the technical side of things, spending hours reading emails and documents. Liz didn’t mind at first, but the more she reads, the more she wants to drive back to the base and slit Scott’s throat. They have more than enough evidence to open an investigation, but Tyler insists most of it will be considered subjective and likely get thrown out. They need hard, concrete evidence that he is doing something highly illegal if they want any chance of taking him down. As if getting a terrorist to murder your own unit isn’t enough.
The only escape she gets from the computer screen is working out and cooking for the team. Despite it not being her home, Liz has all but banned everyone from the kitchen, insisting on preparing all meals and snacks. Since it is one of the only excusesshe has to stop reading the evil Scott preaches, she has made it her personal mission to ensure the team isverywell fed.
Listening to the clacking of keys and shuffling of papers around the other side of the large open kitchen, she gets to work on making another lavish breakfast.
Turning to start the scrambled eggs, her eyes lock on Riley returning from his run. Liz will never get over the sight of him. He’s wearing nothing but shorts that sit sensually low on his hips, accentuating the deep V of his lower abdomen she loves so much. Every muscle of his torso glistens from a thin layer of sweat. Veins pop from his arms, driving her absolutely mad.
Eggs splatter onto the tiles under her feet, too lost in the sight of her love to feel them slip from her hand. He winks at her as he walks by and it takes every ounce of self control she has to refrain from kicking everyone out and taking him right there on the kitchen table. He knows exactly what he is doing to her, and she has never regretted her no sex in their friends’ house rule. Riley rushes from the room, laughing the whole way, leaving her a flustered mess. Liz pulls herself together, cleaning the raw egg from the floor and starting fresh.
The house quickly becomes filled with the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh blueberry muffins. Crawling out from wherever he had been hiding, Mikey makes his way into the kitchen, trying to snack on anything he can. She playfully slaps his hand with the spatula as he reaches for a slice of bacon. Quicker than she is, Mikey snatches it from her hand before she can swat him again. He holds it high over her head, taunting while she reaches for it. The fight for it ends when Alex strides in the room, Tyler trailing behind. One look at their faces and her stomach drops. Alex’s jaw is clenched tight, his eyes dark with worry. Mikey returns her utensil. His features harden as he turns from her goofy friend back intoa hardened soldier with a mission. Liz quickly pulls the food from the griddle, attempting to listen in on the call as she does.
“We are all here, just waiting on Riley,” Alex says to the mystery person on the other end.
Liz scraps her plans for an extravagant meal, opting instead for whatever is ready. With shaky hands, she loads four plates with food and begins setting them on the table in front of the men. Mikey comes back to help, taking the last two plates for her while she makes her own before joining them. Riley comes back a moment later with a shirt on, face still dewy with sweat. Alex puts the call on speaker and slides it into the center of the table.
“The gang’s all here, Paula. How are things going where you are?” Alex asks. Riley drops a kiss into the top of Liz’s head before sliding into his seat next to her and starts to eat. He tries to hide his stress, but she can see it in his eyes.
“Scott has gone completely off the rails. A third of the soldiers here are locked up while anyone who fights him on it is being dragged into the mountains and not coming back,” Paula admits. Her tone is low.
Liz can feel her pain and anger in each word.
“Why the fuck is no one stepping in?” Mikey demands through a mouthful of food.
“And just what do you think I am doing here?” she snaps. “I am trying to do what I can. I don’t exactly have my best people with me.”
“Ignore him, Paula. What else is happening?” Riley asks in his powerful commander tone.
“Are you in the files yet?” she asks.
“Working on it, why?” Tyler finally speaks up.
“He has the green light for all of this. His friend, Mr. President, has granted him permission to hunt you down and stop those opposed by any means necessary.”
Silence.
Every member of their rag tag team exchanges worried glances, but no one dares talk. There are no words for what they are feeling, for what’s happening. She feels sick. The food turns to ash in her mouth. Liz reaches for Riley under the table, needing to ground herself, heart breaking for every person affected by her snooping. She takes a deep breath, shoving the guilt overtaking her deep into the recess of her mind. Liz refuses to let it consume her. Not yet.
“At this point, I am doing damage control. I can help you, or I can keep people safe here. You know what I have to do,” she tells them.
“Don’t worry about us, just keep doing what you can for the soldiers there. Is there anything else?” Riley asks.
“Tyler, did you get the coordinates I sent you?” Paula asks, ignoring Riley’s question.
“Yeah, where do they lead?” Tyler questions.
“A safehouse. You may be compromised. He has Matt digging through safehouse files looking for where you might have gone. He came to me and asked what he should do. That’s still my nephew, Riley. I can’t watch him get killed. But, he is buying you time. He told Scott he thinks you went south, but he can’t keep that up forever. You need to leave as soon as you can,” she says, almost pleading.
“I understand. Make sure he stays safe. If helping is going to get him hurt, make him stop. Call if you get anything new,” Riley says before abruptly ending the call.
Liz peers over at him, heart swelling with pride. He is still so protective, even of people who don’t deserve it.
“You heard her. Gear up, time to go,” Riley orders, standing from the table.
CHAPTER 33
It’s not long before the team stands huddled around a table in a warehouse, less of a warehouse, and more of an oversized garage. Tyler has a map of the U.S. spread out before them. She watches intently as he marks the coordinates given to him by Paula. He defines multiple paths they could take to the safehouse nestled into a rural part of West Virginia. Her nerves grow as the men begin to bicker about which path is the safest to take. She tunes them out, eyeing the bright red lines following the winding roads from where they are to where they are going. At least, she tries to until she hears her name.
