Footsteps padded behind her, then stopped. A shadow fell across the edge of her chair.
“Well, well,” Eli Tarrant drawled, leaning against the wall with a grin. “Got yourself called into the principal’s office, Warrington?”
Alena arched a brow at him. “Maybe. I’m not sure what this is about.”
Eli’s grin softened, his gaze flicking to Noah’s closed door. “Riggs doesn’t bite.Much.” He shifted, folding his arms. “How’s David doing?”
The name cut through her like glass. For a heartbeat, the hum of the headquarters vanished and she was somewhere else entirely. The flash of gunfire. Her twin brother’s voice shouting her name before silence swallowed it all.
She blinked hard, forcing the memory back into its box. David was alive, if you could call it that. His traumatic brain injury had stolen almost everything from him—his career, his independence, the spark in his eyes. A permanent wound no surgeon could ever mend.
“He’s hanging on,” Alena answered.
Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened around the familiar ache. Guilt settled deep, as it always did. She carried enough of it to last a lifetime, stacked like stones she could never set down. David’s injury was only one piece of it. The rest were cemented into her, part of who she had become.
Eli’s expression softened with sympathy, and for that, she almost hated him. She didn’t want pity. She wanted answers. Like why Noah Riggs had called her in, and what weight he was about to add to the load she already carried.
Eli shifted his weight, glancing down the hall. “Well, I’ll let you sweat it out. Good luck with Riggs.” He started to move away, then paused and added casually, “Oh, I saw Cal earlier. Thought you’d want to know.”
The words hit much harder than she’d expected. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her fingers drifted to the plain gold band circling her ring finger, twisting it once before she caught herself.
Her husband. In name only.
Six years ago everything had changed in a single blast of fire and blood on that Strike Force mission. Since then, she and CalGranger had become ghosts circling opposite edges of the same world. Now, they both worked for Crossfire Ops, but Noah never paired them together. They avoided each other in hallways, at briefings, even at the Crossfire Creek town bar where the team sometimes gathered.
That was what happened when trauma and guilt hollowed you out from the inside. You pretended you were fine.
You avoided what you couldn’t face.
The ring was the only thing left of their marriage. That, and the secret she had sworn to protect. David believed she and Cal were still happy, still in love, still the unshakable couple he had once teased about being nauseatingly perfect. With his fragile mind, learning the truth would break him in ways even the doctors couldn’t fix.
For David’s sake, Cal and Alena let him believe the lie.
She drew in a sharp breath and forced her hand flat against her thigh, tearing her gaze from the gold band before it pulled her under.
“Good luck with Noah,” Eli added, already walking away.
Alena kept her face blank until he disappeared down the hall. Only then did she let her eyes fall shut for a heartbeat, the ache inside her rising like smoke in her lungs.
The door to Noah’s office opened and the man himself appeared, tall and broad-shouldered, his expression unreadable. He gave Alena a small nod and motioned her inside.
She rose, smoothed her palms over her thighs and stepped across the threshold.
The office was sleek and modern, outfitted like the rest of Crossfire Ops headquarters. Glass walls, polished steel fixtures, a massive table gleaming beneath the glow of recessed lighting. Monitors lined one side, alive with scrolling data feeds. Everything reflected precision, power, and control.
What she didn’t expect was to see Cal already seated at the table.
The sight stopped her mid-step. Heat pricked at the back of her neck, memories slamming into her before she could push them down. Some were golden, almost blinding in their beauty. Cal’s smile across a campfire. The safety of his arms in the dark. The way he used to whisper her name as if it meant everything.
Other memories and flashbacks were darker, blood-soaked, wrapped in smoke and fire. The nightmares had buried the good ones, grinding them to ash.
Her abdomen clenched with phantom pain, the scar from six years ago reminding her of what had been stolen. What had changed everything.
“Take a seat,” Noah said, his deep voice cutting through her haze. He motioned to the chair across from Cal.
She forced her legs to move and lowered herself into the chair. Her gaze locked with Cal’s for a long, nerve-filled moment. His eyes were the same stormy blue that had once been her safe place. Old heat stirred, curling low in her belly. So did the memories she fought hardest to silence, the ones laced with terror, guilt, and loss.
She broke the connection first, her pulse thudding in her ears.
