Chapter 8 Beckett
Beckett
Ididn’t plan on being the one waiting outside the interrogation room. But when the door opened and she stepped out, I was there—arms crossed, shoulders braced against the wall like I’d been rooted to the spot.
Elara froze when she saw me. Just a flicker, but I caught it. The bandage tugged against her collarbone when she straightened, chin lifting like she’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times. Untouchable. Perfect.
“You enjoy the show?” she asked, voice sharp enough to draw blood.
I pushed off the wall, closing the distance. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that the air tightened between us. “Depends. Was it a performance?”
Her eyes flashed. “If I wanted to perform, Cole, I’d still be smiling for cameras while Hydra wrote checks in the back room.”
I wanted to believe her. God help me, part of me almost did. Because in that room, when she whispered—when she thought no one heard—her voice hadn’t sounded like Hydra. It had sounded… human.
But trust wasn’t something I handed out like candy.
“You expect me to swallow that you didn’t know?” I asked, low, dangerous. “That Hydra kept you squeaky clean while they trafficked kids and women like cattle?”
Her breath caught, sharp. Not guilty—furious. “I knew they were monsters. I didn’t know that. If you think I’d stand by while children were sold like merchandise, then you don’t know me at all.”
My jaw clenched. “That’s the problem, Voss. I don’t know you. And I sure as hell can’t trust you until I do.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy. She could’ve snapped back. Could’ve turned icy, like always. But instead her shoulders sagged, just slightly, like the armor slipped.
“Then watch me,” she whispered. “Every second. Keep your gun pointed at my back if it makes you feel better. Just… watch long enough to see the truth, and then stay the hell away from me.”
It hit harder than a bullet. Because that’s exactly what I’d been doing since the second she walked in—and damn it, I wasn’t sure if I’d already started to see it.
I stepped closer, crowding her space until her pulse jumped in her throat. “Careful what you wish for, Voss. You might not like what I see.”
Her lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a threat. “Neither will you.”
And hell if that didn’t make me want her more.