She focused on the question, on everything but the feeling that she’d stepped even farther outside their inner circle. That she’d broken their most sacred bond without giving them a chance to hold true to it by blindsiding them with the truth.
She ran her hands along her pants, but it didn’t help. Didn’t erase the clammy feeling on her skin, stem the tremors shaking her fingers. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. They kept asking about guidance systems. Who else knew about them. Where the evidence was I’d been collecting. I didn’t understand what they meant. I never discussed my missions with anyone. I reported only to McCormick, and, unless I was partnered with a SOG team, I worked alone. I knew enough shit from my own ops to put a target on my back, so I didn’t go looking for more. Besides, if McCormick wanted me dead, all he had to do was out me on a mission. I knew it was a risk, and I’d made peace with it.”
“Not, anymore.” Brett. His voice loud. Harsh. Until then, he hadn’t said a word. Just that one huff. Had sat there watching the entire exchange. Following her every move.
He stood, made his way over to her. “I already told you. No more running. No more hiding. No accepting that he’s won, or sacrificing yourself for the greater good. The man’s a monster. A threat. And he’ll be put down like one.”
“Colt’s right.” Bishop crossed his arms over his massive chest. “All you have to do is trust us.”
She snorted before she realized the kind of impact it would have. How they’d perceive it.
The room fell silent. Not a whisper of breath, a damn rustle of fabric. Nothing. As if she’d stopped time. Held them all suspended.
Then, it rushed back. Harsh pants. Creaking chairs. A restless foot tapping on the floor. The sounds gathered strength, bounced back on themselves until she thought she’d crumble under the strain.
Cannon cleared his throat, and it vanished. Cut off as he met her gaze, his copper eyes narrowed. Lethal.
She cursed, tried to think of something to say, anything to ease the tension. Stop it from suffocating her. “Cannon, I…”
“No, you’re right.” He skipped his gaze among the other men, pausing to look at each set of eyes. “We don’t deserve your trust. We let you down. Left you behind when we’d sworn, we’d never leave a brother behind. Ever.”
Damn, this was getting too serious. Too close to her reliving it all, again. The pain. The total feeling of abandonment. It had been years, ago. Surely, she could just let it fade, now that she knew the truth—how it had looked from Brett’s point of view. “I wasn’t part of your team. You really didn’t owe me anything,”
“Bullshit. You were the woman one my best friends, my damn brother, was planning on spending the rest of his life with. That made you one of us. Just like it makes everyone at this table one of us. You think we didn’t know how serious you two were? That you’d talked about leaving the service, the Teams? Starting fresh. Actually having a freaking life? Maybe that’s why we didn’t question it.” Cannon tapped his chest. “WhyIdidn’t question it. Maybe I was so afraid of losing Colt to you, I was willing to sacrifice you in the process. That you dumping him benefitted me because I got to keep him.”
He shook his head. “That damn letter never made sense to me. But then, I never really understood women.” He glanced at Jericho. Smiled. “Still don’t. But we knew it didn’t feel right. And I’m ashamed to admit that if it had been Colt who’d suddenly vanished with nothing more than a note, we would have scoured the damn Earth to find him. Gotten to the bottom of it. Instead, we defaulted to what was easy. What we were good at—shoving it all down. Choosing not to feel.”
He rounded the table, moved in beside Colt. “I’m sorry, Ellis. You deserved better. But for what it’s worth, we never make thesame mistake twice. And there’s no limit to how far we’ll take this, if you’ll let us. Give us another chance. We’ll figure it out, or we’ll all die trying because that’s the only way McCormick will get to you. Through us. All of us.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find her voice. There was no air in the room. Nothing but those copper eyes, Brett’s blue ones, staring at her. Waiting.
Cannon sighed, clapped Brett on the back, then headed back to the table. All but fell onto the chair. “You don’t have to answer that, now. You look exhausted. And I can’t imagine that run helped your side, any. Ice is gonna freak when he gets back with Six if you pass out on him. We could all use some rest. Pick this up fresh, tomorrow.”
“Cannon—”
How was she supposed to answer? They weren’t the only ones who’d pushed everything down. Locked it away with the intentions of never opening it, again. To have it all resurface…
She felt raw. As if she’d scraped a knife along her skin. And now, she was left standing there, slowing bleeding out.
Brett moved in front of her—blocked out the rest of the room. His team. His brothers. He stared at her, blue eyes searching, looking slightly undecided before firming his jaw then reaching up and brushing his thumb along her jaw. “Cannon’s right, El. You need to get some rest.”
She grabbed his wrist, torn between pulling his hand away and holding it steady—pressing into his touch. She didn’t want it to be like this. A giant gap between them. Raging waters below. Because they needed to work as a team. The way they always had. And she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want—crave—to be part of it. To belong. Even if only for now.
She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, then stepped into him. Letting her head fall against his shoulder, her body lean into his. He inhaled sharply, then shifted. Wrapped hisarms around her back, cupped her neck and waist, and just held on. Firm. Like an unbreakable force between her and everything else.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there. What his team was thinking. Didn’t really care, because she needed him to know she trusted them. That she’d put her life in their hands. Do everything within her power not to let them down.
But more than that, she wanted Brett to hold her. Not because she was going to topple over. Or because he was trying to shield her from bullets and flashbangs. Just for the sheer pleasure of it. His heart beating beneath her cheek, his fingers pressing into her skin. She wanted to breathe in his scent—the hint of citrus from Cannon’s sweatshirt mixing in with Brett’s usual aroma, but still uniquely him. Brave. Safe.
Brett smiled when she finally eased back, sliding his fingers through her hair. Holding it away from her face. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Right. We only have a covert unit of the CIA after us. No big deal.”
“Bastard doesn’t know what he’s up against.Whohe’s up against. He might have gotten the jump on us. Caught us before we really knew the stakes. But that won’t happen, again. Like Cannon said. We don’t repeat our failures.”
“Hooyah, right?”
He laughed, slowly releasing his hold. Moving back. “Damn straight. Now, about resting…”
