Page 96 of Trapped Truth

Crashing my fist on the laptop does little to release the slow burn of anger simmering inside me. The same anger that crests every time I watch our girl collapse and endure living hell because of what those monsters did to her.

Our team has made promises to Ember. Assurances that she’ll one day feel safe enough to forget her past and what led her to us. As long as people like Blaine’s father are still alive and kicking, that will never be possible.

My healing midsection twinges when I surge to my feet, the pain a dull reminder of all we’ve endured to get this far. Just another scar on the never-ending road to a justice that feels further and further from reach.

It doesn’t slow me down as I storm from my office in search of the one person capable of wrangling this frustration. Ember was checking on our rescued raid victim’s relocation when I left to catch the interview.

The meeting room where our large debriefs are hosted sits empty. I shudder while eyeballing the spot where she dropped during our last operation, spasming and contorting at all angles. Unfortunately, closing the door on it doesn’t temper the sting of the memory.

She might’ve gone to hunt Hyland down in the firing range—the grump needed to blow off some steam after a day spent with his ex—but I’ll check Warner’s office anyway.

Nope. Inside, his militarily organised space is clean and empty.

Resting on the wall outside, my fists contract into tense balls. I’m too aggravated to summon a rational thought. Somewhere in this building, Gunnar’s interview continues. The list of misdeeds against him grows, yet I can’t turn back time to fix the choices our mother made that led us here.

He was completely alone. Terrified.

Starving and desperate.

From the moment Gunnar returned, I’ve been afraid of him. As a child, the stories Mother told about the boogeyman weren’t silly stories; they were very real. For me, that villain had a name. And he left bloodied footsteps behind when he tore out of our lives, a body in his wake.

All along, I was scared of a child. Sure, an angry, violent child with no knowledge of right or wrong. More like a rabid animal, allowed to roam free while fixated on getting revenge against those he deemed to have done him wrong. But he was a helpless boy nonetheless.

I hate myself for fearing him.

For forgetting him.

For erasing his entire existence.

With my eyes screwed shut to fight off a descending red haze, it’s only the patter of steps that alerts me to company. I should’ve known not to look for her. My girl will always find me. Just like the four of us seem to have a mental homing beacon for when she needs our help.

“Axel?”

Urgent hands engulf my cheeks, thumbs skirting under where my tear ducts boil with unshed rage. Fuck me, she smells so good. Like the relief of summer’s rain after a long, humid spell. I want to dive into her essence and let myself drown for a blissful second.

“Ax, what is it?”

“I let him down,” I croak.

“Who, baby?”

“Gunnar… I helped make him disappear. I failed him.”

“You did nothing of the sort, Ax.”

“I’m the reason he suffered! My own brother!”

Insistent fingers wrap around my forearms. Eyes flinging open, I’m tugged from the wall and frogmarched towards the first random door Ember spots.

Escaping into a large storeroom, lights hum to life, revealing shelves stacked with old mission reports and old, discarded files. Ember recaptures me in the middle of an aisle.

“You listened to the live testimony.” She pins me with a stern look.

“I had to know more about his story.”

“His story, Ax. Not yours.”

“The man blamed me for good reason.” I swallow past the discomfort in my throat. “I lied to erase him.”