She wasn’t angry about Silas. She was angry that I hadn’t trusted her. That my lies about the case and my interest in Emily Shaw’s murder left her feeling like there was no one she could trust. Like, my feelings for her couldn’t be real. I’d thought I was keeping myself safe, and instead I’d taken her safety away.
Fuck.
I rinsed the shake cup, shoved my phone in my back pocket, and grabbed my jacket. My vehicle was back at Sinclair Security, but the walk wasn’t far. I could use the fresh air, and I needed to get to Sylvie. Now. The headache pills had kicked in by the time I hit the sidewalk. Not all the way—they weren’t enough—but I didn’t want narcotics to dull my reaction time any more than it already was. I could handle the pain.
I could draw a breath now without coughing, which was a huge improvement, though the walk of a few blocksleft me weaker than I expected. It wasn’t the first time I’d been hit on the head, or the first time I dealt with smoke inhalation. A lifelong affection for explosives intersected with those two events more often than I’d like, but it had been a while, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so physically shaky.
It wasn’t enough to stop me. I keyed in my code to the side door, glad to see the light flash green so I could let myself in. For a moment, I’d wondered if Maddox had locked me out, but his decree that I was banned hadn’t gone that deep.
Now I just had to see if I could get through to Sylvie. I didn’t think it would be as easy as getting into the building.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ELI
Ilet myself into the safe house, not surprised to see Miranda get up off the sofa, her eyes alert though she wore a T-shirt I knew she favored for sleeping and a pair of ragged sleep pants that made her look more like a teenager than a grown woman.
“Eli.” Her eyes narrowed in concern. “You look terrible.”
“I thought some sleep and a shower would be an improvement,” I said in a low voice, not wanting to wake Wren or Sylvie.
“If this is an improvement, I’d hate to see what you looked like when Maddox dropped you off at the barracks. He said ‘dogshit,’ but I thought he was exaggerating.” Her eyes scanned me, cataloging every injury.
“Is she okay?” I asked, not interested in discussing my crappy appearance.
“Sleeping. We stopped waking her up every few hours. She’s in and out but getting better. Probably better than you at this point.”
“She took a harder hit,” I said.
“True. But she’s been resting.” Miranda crossed her arms over her chest.
“I slept for a while,” I said.
She studied me, then gave a short nod. “Wren and I took your bed. Wren’s sleeping in it. I’m on watch.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m going to Sylvie.”
“Don’t wake her up,” Miranda said, stepping back to let me pass.
“Not going to,” I said, and I didn’t. Toeing off my shoes at the side of the bed, I stripped off my cargoes and thermal and slid under the covers. I waited, braced for her to wake and tell me to get out. At first, she didn’t do anything. A few minutes later, she rolled into me, sliding her arm across my chest, her leg hitching over my hip, and let out a soft breath. I curled my arm around her and kissed the top of her head, prepared to wait to say what I had to say until she woke up.
I drifted off holding her, the smell of her hair chasing out the memory of smoke and fire. Later—late enough that light leaked in from the edges of the shade over the window—Sylvie shifted, and I woke to see her hazel eyes blinking away sleep.
“Eli?”
I reached to push a strand of hair off her cheek. “I met Silas when I was twenty-two,” I said. “Six months after my family died. I’d just made Ranger. I was focused, ambitious, and so fucking lost without them.”
Her eyes softened. “It’s okay. You don’t have to?—”
“I should have given it to you days ago,” I said, rolling onto my side and propping myself up on one elbow so we were face-to-face. I traced a finger across the white bandage on her temple. “If I had, I could have saved you this.”
Sylvie drew in a breath, her eyes searching my face for along moment. Finally, she wove her fingers through mine and said, “Then tell me.”
I tightened my fingers on hers, a rush of relief sweeping through me. She hadn’t kicked me out. She was willing to listen. I gave her the truth.
“I had a career that I loved. A life that fit me perfectly. And I was alone. I missed them so much. So many times, I picked up the phone and remembered there was no one to call.”
“And Silas helped?” Sylvie asked, her hazel eyes warm with a compassion that made the back of my eyes prickle.
