“Just tryna make that ugly mug of yours pretty for your dude, bro.”
“Run it again.” Viper’s order was sharp, brooking no argument. “Rodriguez! You’re up. Door’s hot.”
He snapped back into focus, and the team was moving again. This time, Trace and Juice stacked on the left, Reaper and Zeroon the right, Viper at point. His mind was a locked box, every thought, every distraction, buried deep. He set the charge and moved out of the blast radius, then counted that puppy down until she blew.
Gunfire cracked, lighting up the room around him. Pinging his laser a couple of times to avoid friendly fire, he cleared his sector, double-tapped a target, and pivoted to where Juice was dragging a dummy hostage toward the extraction point. Trace covered their six, his movements fluid and lethal as he covered his Grá Croí’s ass.
At least they get to go to war together.
The thought came out of nowhere and he stumbled, but managed to shove it down and locked it away.
Later.
“Contact quadrant One B,” Zero barked.
Reaper swung his rifle, acquired his target, and fired two rounds into the center mass. The target dropped.
“Clear!” Viper called the halt.
The team regrouped, breathing hard, with sweat slick coating their skin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were going somewhere sweltering, hot, and sweaty, given how the conditions of the training were set.
“Sloppy,” Viper said, his gaze sweeping over them. “Rodriguez, you hesitated on that last engagement.”
Reaper’s jaw clenched. But even though the criticism stung, it was fair. His mind hadn’t been fully in the game. “Won’t happen again.”
Viper studied him for a long beat, then raised his hand and circled it in the air. “Again. From the top.”
Fuck me.
Three more times, Viper made them run through the kill house before he decided they were as ready as they were going to be. The buzz in Reaper’s skull didn’t fade as they fell back to the team room. He stripped off his gear, ignoring the ache in his muscles and the way his shirt clung to his back with sweat.
“Nice dance moves back there!” Kaze’s voice cut through the clatter of gear being stowed, his grin lopsided. “You missed your calling in ballet, man!”
Reaper rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Right. I’ll moonwalk next time. Take out a few targets while I’m at it.”
“Please don’t.” Juice tossed his helmet onto a bench, running his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. “If you fall and break your neck, Cian will kick our asses.”
Viper’s presence loomed, even in downtime. “We’ll schedule more runs. Just in case you want to hone those dance skills.” His tone was dry, but there was something underneath it—approval, maybe. Or at least the absence of disappointment.
Zero snorted, tossing a towel at Reaper. “Focused? Nah, man. You’re moping. Plain and simple.”
Crap. They all thought he was off his game because of Cian. If only they knew. Reaper caught the towel and wiped his face. “Just focused.”
Juice leaned back in his chair, his smirk knowing. “He’s got a point, Reaper. You’ve been brooding ever since we left the house.”
Reaper shot him a look that would hopefully shut this shit down before it got off the ground. “Not brooding.” He knew better than to give them an inkling that something was wrong.
You should have told them before now.
Or at least told Viper.
Trace cut in. “Then what’s eating you?” He leaned back in his chair, trying to look all kinds of casual, but his eyes were sharp, and the freaking wolf never missed nothing.
Reaper hesitated. The weight in his chest pressed harder, and for a second, he considered keeping it to himself. But these were his brothers. They’d bled with him. They’d die with him. More importantly, they’d die for him without a second thought. With how fucked his head was right now, he couldn’t justify not telling them any longer.
“How much do you know about my life in Coronado, before I moved to the East Coast?” he asked.
The room went still, as his brothers in arms glanced at each other. Even the wind that had been howling for the last hour picked that moment to decide it was done for the day.
