When she turned, she caught him watching Archer with quiet focus, like he was assessing him in a new way.
Archer’s gaze flicked to Angelo. “You look like you’re about to tell me this is unacceptable.”
Angelo’s mouth curved. “I’m thinking you’re brave. Not for the bun. For agreeing to go. Okay, and for the bun too.”
Ellory’s smile wobbled, and Archer mirrored it.
He was trying, but it wasn’t perfect. He had a long road to travel, and she was glad he’d said yes to help—said yes to the ranch.
Tears stung behind her eyes. She blinked them back hard, refusing to fall apart on him like a woman in some movie.
“I’m worried about you,” she admitted.
His gaze softened. “I know.”
That quiet acceptance did more to steady her than any pep talk.
Angelo’s hand settled at her lower back, firm and warm. “He’s going to the best place he can be,” he said, voice low, meant for her.
Ellory let out a slow breath. “But he hates horses.”
Archer gave a short snort.
She stared out at the chopper waiting beyond them. It was oddly more normal to see a helicopter on the lawn of a mansion transformed into a ghost ops base than to say goodbye to her brother after searching for him for so long.
“What happens after this? After Wyoming. After the program.”
Archer’s jaw worked. The micro-movement told her he’d been chewing on that question in the private hours, when his body finally relaxed enough to let his mind roam. “I don’t know.”
Ellory’s stomach dipped. “That scares me.”
“It scares me too.” His tone was flat and honest.
Angelo’s fingers flexed at her back, as if he could keep her from tipping over with touch alone. “He’ll do whatever he wants.”
Ellory’s eyes burned again. “And if he wants to work?”
Angelo didn’t hesitate. “There are always spaces on other Blackout teams. If Archer wants to return to duty, doors exist for him.”
Archer studied him, suspicion and appreciation twining together in his expression. “You recruiting me already?”
Angelo huffed out a laugh. “Not my job anymore, but I have connections if you ever want to make a move.”
The engine noise rose slightly—someone was doing a final check. Her time with Archer was coming to a close. But not an end—a goodbye for now.
Ellory stepped forward and put both arms around her brother. She squeezed, hard enough that she felt his ribs under her palms, and then hated herself for noticing. He hugged her back with surprising strength, his hands firm and steady.
“I’m not letting go,” she whispered into his shoulder.
“I’m leaving anyway,” he murmured back.
She laughed, wet and shaky. “You’re a jerk.”
“Born that way.”
She pulled back and looked at his face, memorizing every angle. His blue eyes. His trimmed beard. The absurd bun that her other brothers would never let him live down if they saw it.
“Call me,” she said.
