My phone buzzed.
Declan
Training ran long. Mara's making me do an extra session tomorrow to make up for the days I missed. Home by seven.
Troy
Okay. Be careful.
Declan
Always am.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and tried to focus on the map Dmitri was showing Luka.
Declan came home at six-thirty. I heard the truck pull into the driveway and felt the tightness in my chest ease in a way I hadn't noticed it was there.
He looked tired. His eyes found mine across the room and some of the tension in his face went with it.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I crossed to him and pulled him into a kiss that tasted like coffee and the mint gum he'd been chewing. “How was the center?”
“Long. Mara's pissed about the schedule changes. Sarah's worried about client retention. And I'm trying to convince everyone that everything's fine when clearly nothing is fine.” He dropped his bag by the door. “How's the investigation?”
“We've got leads. Good ones.”
“Good enough to end this?”
“Maybe.”
His jaw tightened. “That's not exactly reassuring.”
“It's the best I've got right now.” I took his hand and led him toward the kitchen, away from the others. “Luka and I are going out tonight. Following a lead.”
He went still. “Tonight.”
“The phone's moving. We move with it.” I kept my voice level. “Ash stays here coordinating backup. Dmitri's driving. We surveil the location, get eyes on whoever's carrying the burner, and pull back. We don't engage unless we have to.”
“And if you have to?”
“Then we've got two extraction routes mapped, a backup team twelve minutes out, and Luka on comms the whole time.” I held his gaze. “I've done this before, Declan. A lot.”
He was quiet for a moment, working through it, not looking for holes in the plan but sitting with the part that had nothing to do with tactics.
“I know you have,” he said finally. “That's not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
He looked at me. Just looked, long enough that I felt it land. “You came back,” he said. “That's the issue. You came back and now I have to stand here and watch you walk out that door toward people who want you dead, and I don't get a say in it.”
That hit differently than an argument would have.
“No,” I said. “You don't.”
“I know.” He exhaled slowly. “I know you have to go. I know you're good at this. I just need you to know I'll be counting the minutes until you're back.”
“I'll be back.”
