Page 93 of The ARC Unit: Breach

“I don’t fucking know. Maybe explain why the man who loses his mind if one of us gets sloppy decided the rules don’t apply when you’re angry at Mercer.”

Wolf’s gaze dropped for a second.

“They apply.”

Jackal shook his head. “Didn’t look like it.”

“I said you’re right.”

“Yeah. After she came downstairs marked.”

I stood quickly and my shoulder objected hard enough that I winced.

Bear turned immediately. “You sit back down.”

“No. Everyone just stop.”

The words came louder than I intended. I looked at Wolf first because I was still angry enough that looking anywhere else felt dishonest.

“You fucked up.”

His eyes held mine.

“Yes.”

Then I looked at Jackal. “And I appreciate whatever this is, but I don’t need six men deciding what happens next because six men deciding what happens to me is becoming a theme I would really like to retire.”

Jackal’s mouth tightened.

The anger in his face did not disappear, but he stepped back from Bear’s arm.

“Fine.”

Bear looked at him. “Fine?”

“For now.”

Viper spoke from behind the table, his voice flat. “That doesn’t sound fine.”

Jackal looked at him. “It was the best available version.”

Normally the line would have earned a laugh but nobody gave him one. Wolf removed the loosened plate carrier without taking his eyes off Jackal, set it on the edge of the operations table and walked toward the side door.

Jackal watched him go.

The door shut and only then did the room breathe again. Bear crouched in front of me and pointed at my shoulder.

“Can I finish?”

I nodded.

He checked the joint carefully and decided it was probably a mild strain rather than anything torn or dislocated, then told me to ice it and keep the arm out of anything resembling lifting. If the pain worsened overnight, he would look again in the morning because treating pain like an argument I could win would only make tomorrow worse.

“Anything over shoulder height is a bad idea tonight,” he said.

“Got it.”

“And don’t sleep on that side.”