Bound By Thorns (Squad Six #2)

BONUS CHAPTER TWO

Amelia

“What the fuck were you thinking, Amelia?” I berated myself, as I entered my room. Collapsing on my bed I mumbled incoherent groans, my voice muffled by the pillow I was now mercilessly punching. The embarrassment was suffocating, and the confusion was no less agonizing.

Hadn’t I seen him shirtless before? We’d been in tight spaces, and under high stress; none of that was new. But today, seeing those cuts across his back, the way they spoke of his pain—damn it, there was something maddeningly attractive about that vulnerability. For a split second, I had imagined tracing those muscles with more than just antiseptic, maybe even my tongue, blood be damned.

The shock and disgust on his face when I kissed him burned in my memory. It was as if I had crossed an unforgivable line. How could I have misread everything so terribly?

My room felt like it was spinning as I lay back, staring at the ceiling. “How am I going to face him after this?” I muttered to the empty room. This wasn’t just a simple misstep; it felt like I had detonated a bomb in the middle of the only genuine friendship I valued here.

“Fuuuuuckkkkk,” I groaned louder, the word stretching out into the silence. The weight of what tomorrow would bring—awkwardness, maybe hostility, or worse, pity—pressed down on me. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep or some kind of oblivion to take me away from the mess I had just made.

Sleep found me shortly after. By the time I blinked awake, the kiss with Kabir felt like a blurry memory, almost like it belonged to someone else’s life, not mine. Hadn’t he made his feelings—or lack thereof—crystal clear? He pushed me away because he didn’t want me. That should have settled it, but a tangled mess of emotions still churned inside me like something was left unsaid.

I got out of bed, the dread of facing him at breakfast hanging over me like a dark cloud. I moved mechanically down the hall toward the lounge, each step heavier than the last. I was usually the one who strode into a room with confidence, but today, I could barely muster the will to keep walking.

What the hell have I done?

The damn kiss was screwing with my head! I prided myself on being a strong, unshakeable member of Blackthorn Security, Amelia ‘Falcon’ Gill–gah! Fuck ! Desmond.

I’ll ignore that.

The formidable ex-Squad Six member. Hell, I even had a falcon tattooed between my shoulder blades for its symbolism of fierce independence and predatorial prowess. Right now, though, I wished I were an actual falcon, capable of flying away from this fucking mess.

As the lounge door loomed closer, my steps slowed. I wasn’t ready to walk in, not yet. Not while my head was a warzone and my heart a traitor to my professional facade. How was I supposed to sit there, eat toast, and act like everything was normal when nothing felt normal at all?

“That time of the month?” Dylan’s voice sliced through my fog of irritation like a misplaced joke at a funeral.

“Shut up, I’m just tired,” I shot a disgusted look at my brother, pushing the double doors open with a bit more zeal than necessary. Dylan’s chuckle followed me as I walked in.

Two steps in and my eyes, those traitors, zipped straight to Kabir, who was piling his plate high with eggs. Seriously, eggs again? What was with this guy and his relentless egg affair?

Why do I care about eggs right now?

Slinking past Zarek and Leora, who were wrapped up in each other like octopuses in a love tank, I headed straight for the buffet. Just as I reached for a plate, Kabir looked up and flashed that maddeningly handsome smile that should be illegal before noon.

“Hey, Lia. The eggs are exceptional today.” He heaped another spoonful onto his plate, the eggs practically toppling over the edge. “Scrambled?” He nodded toward my empty plate with a panty-melting grin.

Bastard .

He was acting polite, which was not the Kabir Gill playbook I was used to.

“Are you okay?” I blurted out, half expecting him to confess to being abducted by body-snatching aliens.

His eyes widened for a split second before gaining composure. “I’m completely fine. Are you okay?” He said.

I was trying to find my fineness in the deep recesses of my mind when I saw Sebastian stride towards us.

“Hey sweetheart,” his gravelly voice sounded near my ear a bit too close. “The bacon is exquisite today.”

Great! Now I had to choose between eggs and bacon— or rather Kabir and Sebastian.

I created a mental bubble around myself, ignoring the two of them and filled my plate with baked potatoes and sausages. Feeling a gaze as I walked towards the table, I couldn’t make out whose eyes followed me, but I didn’t break my confident stroll.

The breakfast table was buzzing when Logan, Kaylan, Delara, and Zane joined us, filling out our little morning assembly to a full ten. We all crowded around the huge black marble table, only the soft clinking of cutlery breaking the quiet. Kabir, as always, snagged the seat next to me.

There was a weird vibe in the air—tense, like everyone was holding their breath. I figured it was less about our little moment and more about the whole Bitch debacle from last night.

Zane broke the ice, all business. “Kabir, the hard drive from your laptop is safe and sound. Everything’s backed up, right?”

“Got it all,” Kabir shot back, all confidence.

I couldn’t help but jump in, needing to know more. “Any chance a signal got out before we shut it down?”

“Nope, we’re clear,” Kabir assured me with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

I forced a smile. “Well, that’s a relief.”

Sebastian leaned forward, stirring the pot. “So what do we got?”

Kabir wiped his mouth, done with his breakfast assault. “We’ve got everything—the coordinates for all the Crazon deliveries. This Bitch was meant to be a golden ticket for a select few, ensuring they’d stay safe and off-grid.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And the bigger picture?”

Zane took over, simplifying things with his usual flair. “Imagine a high-stakes con where you make every nuclear power think they’re about to be hit. They panic, you sell them overpriced survival gear—Crazon, blast-resistant body armor, thermal-regulating survival suit, anti-radiation medication kits, customized armored vehicles, the works. And with Crazon, you control what they see and hear. You even have the global doom switch with the Crazon.”

Leora snorted, her brow furrowed. “You gotta dumb it down, Zane.”

“Okay, it’s like telling everyone it’ll rain fire, selling them expensive umbrellas, then controlling the weather,” Zane clarified with a smirk.

“Manipulating global paranoia for profit,” Leora summarized, shaking her head. “Pretty slick.”

Kabir added his two cents. “Every activated Crazon means they’ve got another puppet on their strings. It’s not just greed—it’s a full-on power play.”

Zarek leaned in, intrigued. “So, is this a metaphorical doom switch?”

“Oh, it’s a real doom switch. We’re probably looking at a Crazon to end all Crazons,” Zane threw in, not missing a beat.

“A Master Crazon, if you will,” Kabir suggested, cracking a smile.

“The Original Crazon?” Kaylan offered, trying to add a mythical spin.

I watched as the suggestions spiraled. Delara, not one to be left out, piped up from the corner, “How about ‘Apocalypse Crazon’? Too dramatic?”

Logan snorted, adding, “Or just ‘The Big Red Button’. Keeps it simple and scary.”

We volleyed names back and forth until finally settling on ‘Doom Switch’. It was straightforward and oddly fitting. As everyone nodded in agreement, I couldn’t help but chuckle at our collective creativity under pressure.

Kabir

Sweetheart .

Fucking sweetheart.

The world was on the brink of nuclear war and it was Sebastian who was getting on my nerves with his shit. What right did he have to call Amelia that? And why the hell did it bother me so much?

Since I had pushed her away—rather harshly, I might add—I figured I shouldn’t care who flirted with her or what pet names they tossed around. But there it was, eating at me while I tried to focus on briefing the team. I kept glancing at Amelia, noticing how worn out she looked today. There was a slump to her shoulders that wasn’t there before, which sparked a pang of guilt inside me.

I had caused this. Her avoidance of eye contact with everyone around the table, it was because of me. Did she cry herself to sleep after leaving my room last night? Dammit, I needed to pull myself together. Our friendship was too important, and right now, it was my responsibility to mend whatever I had broken.

As much as I wanted things to go back to how they were, the reserved tilt of Amelia’s head, the careful way she held herself, told me this was going to be an uphill battle. And I had to be ready to fight it if I wanted to salvage the bond we once had.

As the breakfast ended, I caught up to Amelia while leaving the lounge. “Hey, can we talk?” I ventured, gently.

She turned around to meet my gaze, her demeanor hesitant. After studying my face for a few seconds she nodded. I had no idea what she saw on my face—fear? Plea? Longing?

As we made our way back to our rooms, she opted for her room to talk. I believed she did that so she could kick me out once we were done.

Once inside, she perched on the edge of her bed and motioned for me to start. The weight of the moment settled in my chest, heavy and uncomfortable.

“Lia, about last night—” I began, only to be swiftly cut off.

“Oh, this is about last night?” Her hands fluttered, a nervous energy about her. “Don’t worry about it. I got your message. Loud and clear.”

Her tone stung, her words slicing neatly through any pretense. “Lia, I didn’t mean to be harsh. I just… we shouldn’t start something that could ruin our friendship. You’re too important to me.”

She stared at me, incredulous. “Let me get this straight. You can’t start something with me because I’m too important?” Her disbelief was palpable, her voice rising in pitch.

I nodded, swallowing hard against the tightness in my throat. “Exactly. If we start something, it might ruin our friendship.”

She processed this, her eyes narrowing in thought. “So, you’re saying we can’t be together because I’m too important and a relationship would hurt our friendship?” She was piecing it together, her frustration mounting.

Before she could dive deeper into her argument, I cut in, desperate to make her see my point. “I like what we have, Lia. It’s comfortable. It’s the reason I’m still here at Blackthorn. You ground me. Without this… I don’t know where I’d be.”

She shook her head, disbelief and hurt mingling in her eyes.

She loaded her metaphorical gun.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I started seeing someone else? Because, you know, given how close we are, I’d probably have to distance myself from you. Wouldn’t that hurt our friendship more?”

Her words were a gut punch I hadn’t anticipated. I tried to maintain my stance. “No, I wouldn’t mind. Date whoever you want. I’d even wingman you if you need me to.” Why is my chest hurting? “And then no guy would get the wrong idea about us.”

The silence that followed was charged, heavy with all the things left unsaid and the ache of potential loss. She didn’t need to say anything more; her eyes said it all. This might just be the biggest mistake I was about to commit.

And just like that, the metaphorical bullet went straight through my heart as she spoke her next words.

“Okay!” She chirped. “Sebastian seems like a good guy. Maybe I’ll date him.”

Cold fury burned through me. My heart sank further down leaving the ache from before a distant moment because my chest was now about ready to fucking explode.

Was my face impassive?

Yes.

Did I want to yell and scream?

Also yes.

Did I do anything about stopping Amelia?

Nope .

My neck made a motion that was oddly close to nodding. Then I turned around and left her room without a single word.