Page 59 of Rescued

Finally Breanna said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Asking’s free.”

Meaning he probably wouldn’t answer. She did it anyway.

“It’s about guys like you and Sanchez.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not asking Sanchez? I thought he was your cookie buddy.”

“Well, you’re—” She broke off. “Shit. I was just seriously going to say you’re more approachable than Sanchez.”

She actually saw the corner of his mouth turn up. For Boomer’s brother, that was the equivalent of laughing hysterically.

“That’s fucked up,” he agreed. “But go ahead.”

She took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. “Well, I get that this—” she gestured around the compound— “the missions, everything—that’s what you do. And you accept the risks. The pain. Even the losses.”

His hand stilled, the cigarette burning down. A scattering of gray ash fell off.

“But, why couldn’t you guys have more? Maybe even mates, someday? People who care about you, who are there to pick up the pieces. I mean, you’re not bad guys. You’re all here because you help people. You risk your lives to help people. So it’s not like you can’t care about them.”

Long silence.

Finally he said, “A mission is something that happens and then it’s over. It’s a crisis, and we solve it. Mates, families, they need a different kind of care. Attention. Emotional support and shit. All the time.”

He took another drag. “We don’t do that.”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Breanna said. “You do it for each other. I just saw you.”

He raised one shoulder, like he wasn’t even going to argue. “We’re fucked up,” he said. “There’s nobody halfway normal that can handle the amount of fucked up some of us are. And nobody who’d want to try. Knowing that is a hell of a lot harder when you have to watch other people getting things you’ll never have.”

Like with Sanchez, she had another stir of recognition. She knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in. For them it was about mates and families. For her, with no money and parents who didn’t even try to make a decent life for her after her grandpa died, it was always about money and security, the ability to just… relax. Not to have to work so hard all the time just to stay on the fringes of what other people took for granted.

But she wasn’t ever going to stop trying. She gripped the phone, still deep in the pocket of her hoodie. This, and Quentin’s hidden millions, were going to give her that.

Only somehow, now there was a part of her that wanted more. Things she would never have.

Boomer’s brother said to her, “You’re an okay person, and I know you like Switch. But would you really want this to be your life?”

She had no answer for that.

Chapter 25

Switch had ended up on the newly repaired roof of the guest cabin, in the dark. Drinking.

He didn’t know why the fuck he was up there and not somewhere else—somewhere far, far away.

Maybe just because it was a place no one would look for him, while still being close to his liquor supply.

Which wasn’t helping.

His hands were shaking so much, it sometimes took both of them to get the bottle to his mouth.

But he persevered.

And tried not to think about how close he’d come to screwing up the mission, because he’d almost had a panic attack while flying. His worst fear coming true.

And then, to top it off, there was Breanna in the middle of the carnage. This wasn’t the life for her.