"The reasons why." His voice is barely audible. "The decisions I made that led to the compromise. The things I should have seen and didn't. The ways I failed him go deeper than just that night."
"Tell me."
"I can't.” Carter shakes his head. “Not yet. Not when we're in the middle of hunting the Vultures. Not when you need me functional." He stands too, carefully. "Please, Rebel. I'm asking for time. When this is over, when the threat's gone and you're safe, I'll tell you everything. Every decision. Every failure. All of it."
It's a coward's bargain. A delay tactic dressed up as protection, but I'm taking it anyway.
"One chance," I hear myself say. "One chance to prove you're telling me everything that matters. One chance to help me finish what Alex started."
"One chance," he echoes.
"But no more lies. No more omissions. And when this is over, you tell me the rest."
"When this is over," he promises. "Everything."
I nod, not trusting my voice. Outside, the sun's fully set. The compound lights have clicked on, casting long shadows through the window.
"You should rest," I say. "That shoulder needs time to heal."
"So do you."
"I'm not the one who got shot."
"No." His eyes hold mine. "You're the one finding out the man you trusted got your brother killed. That's a different kind of wound."
The honesty in his voice cracks something open in my chest. I cross back to him, standing close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
"For what it's worth," I say quietly, "Alex loved you. I saw it in the messages he sent me. He talked about you like you hung the moon. Called you his brother."
"I didn't deserve that."
"Maybe not. But he gave it anyway. That was his choice." I press my palm against his chest, over his heart. His heartbeat stutters under my hand. "So what are you going to do with the life he gave you?"
He covers my hand with his. "Something worth the cost."
"Then prove it."
The moment stretches between us, electric and fragile. Then he leans down slowly, giving me time to pull away.
I don't.
The kiss is soft. Careful. Tasting of salt and confession and things neither of us can take back.
When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his. "This doesn't mean I forgive you."
"I know."
"And it doesn't mean I trust you completely."
"I know that too."
"But it means I'm willing to try. To see if there's something here worth saving."
His breath shudders out. "That's more than I deserve."
"Probably." I step back, putting space between us before I do something stupid like forgive him too soon. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow we keep hunting."
"Rebel?"
