TWENTY-NINE
Kaylan
I stared at the empty space beside me in the bed. Logan wasn’t here this morning, and the absence made my heart sink. I had grown too accustomed to his presence, even though we’d only shared two peaceful nights. It felt irrational and petulant, but the truth was, I didn’t want to wake up without him anymore.
Trauma bond.
I shook away the thought as I climbed out of bed and headed to the shower. Barely two minutes had passed under the hot spray when a knock sounded at the bathroom door, causing me to freeze.
“It’s me,” came Logan’s muffled voice from the other side. “Can I come in for a second?”
I glanced at myself, scanning my body in the fogged mirror. I didn’t want him to see me like this, vulnerable and exposed. I didn’t want him expecting anything. A wave of dread washed over me—why would he want to come in while he knew I was in the shower unless he expected something from me? But then another thought broke through: this was Logan. He hadn’t even kissed me without asking until just a few days ago.
“Yes,” I managed to say, my voice shaky.
He entered, his eyes immediately finding mine. He was shirtless and my anxiety rose. Then, he smiled—a soft, reassuring smile that briefly transformed into something deeper, something like hunger. There we were, only a wall of glass separating us.
He walked towards the shower door, opened it slightly, and that’s when I saw he was carrying something. It was a bottle. “It’s a shower gel, hypoallergenic. It’ll be good for the… wound,” he said hesitantly, his gaze locked on mine. His eyes could have wandered, given my exposed state, but they didn’t.
I took the bottle from him and smiled. After he left, I swapped out my current shower gel for the one he gave me and showered. It was such a touching gesture, I couldn’t help but keep smiling.
When I stepped back into the room, my towel wrapped around me, he was there. Shirtless, just as before. Memories of that day at Ravenrock flashed through my mind—when I had openly ogled him. His smirk now was different, softer, appreciative rather than calculative as it had been before.
My eyes drifted to the small bandage where I had stabbed him, and my expression darkened. I swallowed hard, looking away as tears threatened. I had hurt him, and he thought he deserved it. Closing the distance between us, he gently lifted my chin, his soft smile meeting my troubled gaze.
“Does it hurt…” he asked softly, referring to the bandage, “looking at the stab wound?”
I closed my eyes, my chin wobbling, and nodded shakily.
“Now,” he breathed, “imagine how I felt when I hurt you a thousandfold. This wound is nothing, Chaos. I’m okay .”
His words lightened the heavy load on my heart somewhat, but I absorbed the deeper meaning behind them. He still blamed himself for the pain he caused me. Before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were soft yet determined, as if he intended to imprint himself on me, to claim my mouth—and me —as his own.
The kiss ended all too soon, a grin spreading across his face. “I have a surprise for you.”
After we dressed, he led me through the hallway and across the glass bridge to the other building. We went up a floor, and he paused in front of a door. “This is where Zarek and Leora live,” he said, then gently turned me by the shoulders to face the door across the hall. “And this…” he continued, “is where we will be moving in.”
Shock surged through me, mingling with a jolt of excitement. I turned to face him, searching his eyes for certainty. Did he just ask me to move in with him?
“Logan,” I whispered.
“I know what you’re going to say. And maybe it is too soon. But I don’t want to go back to my room every time I need to get dressed or grab my gun. I want to wake up next to you. And this is a good next step, Chaos,” he said, his chuckle resonating with warmth, “Even Dr. Mendoza reluctantly approved.”
“She did?” I asked, surprised. He simply nodded, his grin spreading wide.
He guided me inside the apartment after unlocking the door. It was a sleek, modern space, with shelves brimming with books that added a homely touch. A suede blue couch sat on one side, facing a large TV, and the kitchen boasted glossy white cabinets with a stunning marble-top island. The expansive L-shaped floor-to-ceiling windows offered views half toward the courtyard and half toward the lush rooftop garden. It was mesmerizing, pulling me in—a stark contrast to the transient hotel room we were staying in. I was instantly in love with it.
Logan led us to the bedroom, which was even more beautiful with its light-colored walls and a sturdy wooden bed frame. The closet was enormous, with ample shelves on both sides for both of our clothes.
I smiled up at Logan, a playful spark in my eyes. “You know, we could break in the bed in about four days.”
Logan returned the smile, but then a dull hue took over his blue eyes. “We don’t have to do anything until you’re totally ready.”
My smile faltered, and I sighed heavily. “I just want to be with you. To feel you, everywhere.” Then my smile returned, lighter this time, “It’ll be easy since you’re already monopolizing my mind.”
He chuckled at that. “Whatever you wish.”
He then enveloped me in a tight hug, his lips pressed to my forehead. The silence stretched on, ours hearts beating wildly out of our chests. He finally whispered. “Let’s heal together, Chaos.”
After the tour, we walked back to the previous building and fell into our usual routine of light-hearted chatter over breakfast. Soon, we would be assembling in the command center to lay out the plan of action for Operation Tantalus.
???
“Eagle?” Zane threw out the suggestion, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Nope!” Amelia quickly shot it down. “That was my drone’s name.”
We had already cycled through over five names for the new squad set to join Blackthorn Security. The original elite squad, led by Sebastian and including Zane, Delara, and Ronan, was known as ‘Team Onyx’. They seldom used the name since their missions often required them to operate separately, but the team was still active. Sebastian and Zarek hadn’t yet arrived at the command center, and the rest of us were trying to inject some fun into the naming process.
“How about Shadow? Works with Ghost, considering Zarek will be the lead,” Dylan suggested.
Delara immediately grunted in disapproval. “That’s my call sign. It’ll be confusing.”
A collective eye roll went around the room. Naming the team that would eventually merge with Onyx for Operation Tantalus—the critical mission to take down Garret Tyson—was proving to be a challenge.
“Fine, Ghost it is,” Logan declared, slapping the table for emphasis. “We keep circling back to it anyway. I’d even propose we change Onyx to Black. Black ops, Ghost Ops? Anyone?”
Dylan chuckled. “It’s not World War Two, you know.”
“Might as well be,” I muttered under my breath, drawing surprised looks from everyone. I sank back into my seat, not expecting such a strong reaction.
“What was that?” Logan pressed, leaning in.
“Just saying,” I shrugged, feeling the eyes on me, “if Garret, Robert, and Gao have roped in the two largest economies, it might as well be a world war.”
Seeing the confused faces around me, I elaborated, “Look, we know they’ve been sending shipments to countries with nuclear capabilities. Crazon is involved, which makes me think they’re aiming to control the systems operating nuclear plants. I mean,” I shrugged again, trying to lighten the intensity, “it might as well be World War Three.”
“You’re on track, Healer,” Sebastian suddenly boomed from the threshold.
He wasn’t alone; Zarek followed close behind, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a seat next to Logan. “Looks like we’re all on the same page,” Zarek stated.
Sebastian didn’t waste a moment; he moved to the projector screen, tapping on his tablet to bring up the schematics of the Belfrost tower—a towering structure under the command of Garret Tyson and his crew, not to mention the prisoners they held. Were they all there? Was Martha there too?
We dove into our strategy, each of us acutely aware of the challenges the skyscraper posed. Sneaking in was off the table; the only entry was the main entrance. The basement, though tempting, was accessible only to those with existing clearance, and any attempt by Zane or Kabir to hack the system would likely trigger alerts from Crazon’s robust security.
That left us two less-than-ideal options: barge through the front, alerting everyone inside and sparking an immediate showdown, or aim for a silent entry from above, landing on the roof or the helipad. The latter, while risky, would at least give us the element of surprise and a tactical upper hand.
Rappelling from helicopters was something I had done back in my military days, except back then, I was just a military doctor. Now, my role was vastly different; it wasn’t just about patching people up anymore. Deep down, there was a part of me that burned with the desire to take down Garret Tyson myself. Logan often claimed he wanted the honor of dealing the final blow, but I knew when push came to shove, he’d let me pull the trigger.
“So, it’s decided then. We fly to Chicago in six days,” Sebastian announced, his voice cutting through the thick air of the strategy room.
A series of nods confirmed the agreement. I found myself questioning the timeline.
“Why six days?” I asked, curious about the precise timing.
“Well, they have a shipment coming through after weeks of silence, and that’s in eight days. There’s a high possibility that Garret’s crew might be thinned out the day before,” Zane explained, his eyes scanning the room for any dissent.
“What if Garret isn’t there?” Logan interjected.
“Our mission objective doesn’t change. We still gather intel. We need to know the extent of their plan,” Sebastian responded firmly, addressing everyone but lingering on Logan a moment longer.
Logan’s unease was unmistakable. He was fixated on not letting Garret slip through our fingers, a sentiment I shared wholeheartedly. But the reality was, understanding the full scope of Tyson, Gao, and Romano’s operations was critical. Without the knowledge, we were running the mission blind.