Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
The world returned in sharp, jagged pieces.
Cold tile pressed to Mason’s cheek. The metallic tang of blood and stale bite of office coffee filtered into his nose. A steady, savage throb in his chest, each pulse a hammer strike, made him grit his teeth.
He tried to move and pain lit him up, a white flare behind his eyes.
Shot. He’d been shot.
He dragged air through his teeth, took inventory the way he’d done a hundred times in sand and snow and rooms that smelled like this one—cheap disinfectant and fear.
He brought his focus inward. Entry point high on the delt with a burn line across the top of the pec where the muzzle flash kissed him.
No bubbling in his chest, no drowning in his own breath. His arm muscle responded when he told it to, but the joint screamed.
He managed to lift a hand, probing the edges of the wound, and felt wet heat and ragged meat but not lung. Not artery.
“Flesh wound,” he rasped to the floor. His voice sounded like someone had raked it across gravel. “Lucky bastard.”
He’d have another scar, another raised line for Elin to trace someday with careful fingers and that look in her eyes that made his chest tight.
The thought snapped him upright inside. His body was slow to follow.
Elin.
His scattered thoughts gelled into one hard point. Fuck.
He forced his eyes open and blinked as his vision swam. A fluorescent tube in the ceiling light buzzed like a hornet nest above him. The room tilted, then steadied.
He lifted his head. She sat ten feet away, zip-tied to a chair.
Everything inside him went very still, very quiet.
She was alive. Her chest heaved with every breath and she squared her shoulders like she was trying to hold herself still by sheer willpower. The plastic cuffs bit into her wrists, creating an angry red band on her flesh. Her eyes had stayed on his the second he opened them and didn’t let go.
I let my guard down, and now you’re in danger.
She shook her head once. “We’re both in danger.” Her answer sounded calm in that way that said she was well past fear and into survival.
He huffed a breath that turned into a broken laugh. “I said that out loud?”
“Yeah, you did.” The tiniest, terrified smile ghosted over her mouth and died. “Liam…are you okay? You’re bleeding.”
“Seen worse.” It wasn’t a lie. It was only a lie when it came to him. He’d experienced bullet grazes but never something like this, and unfortunately it missed his body armor. But the truth wouldn’t help the situation, and pain was something he knew how to bury.
He tried to push into a sitting position and found out why his body wasn’t obeying like it should—his good wrist was cinched with a steel cuff to the desk leg. The other shoulder had a hole in it.
Fantastic.
He braced his boots on the floor, clenched his stomach and heaved himself upright, hoping he didn’t pass out like a rookie. Fire lanced his shoulder, and a harsh growl ripped out of him before he could stop it. The room grayed at the edges, then snapped into sharper focus.
He leaned upright against the desk, breath rasping through his nose.
“God, Liam…”
He caught Elin’s gaze and held it. “At least we got some alone time.”
Her eyes looked brighter thanks to the tears sparking in them.
“Now you can’t get away from me. We can have that talk we’ve both avoided, thought we didn’t need or got interrupted in the middle of.”
She shook her head, another lock of hair slipping free from her ponytail. “We need to get free. Then we can talk.”
“We can do both.” If he didn’t say the things now, he feared he would find a way not to later.
“Later.” She cut a glance to the closed door and back. “Where is your team?”
“Wish I knew.”
“Tell me how to get out of these.” She twitched her wrists, but grimaced as the ties sliced deeper.
The son of a bitch had bound her hands together, then used another zip-tie to attach her to the chair leg, pulling her arms to the side at an awkward slant. When Mason got hold of the motherfucker, he was going to wish Cipher had gotten to him first.
He focused on Elin and nodded once. “Plastic will give. Brace your wrists against the chair so you’ve got slack. Tuck your chin.”
She did.
“Bring your elbows close to your ribs if you can. That’s it, angel.”
Her gaze shot to his, the green pools full of courage and emotions he was going to get out of her.
“On my count, drive your hands down fast and hard. Along your thigh. You’re tied at an odd angle. You want sharp force behind the move. Think about breaking a cheap broom, not pulling taffy.”
Her throat moved. “Okay.”
“On my mark, angel. Three…two…one. Now!”
She brought her hands down with a fierce cry. The sudden crack of the ties snapping made his chest heat with pride and love and so many things he would never be able to put into words.
She gasped, eyes wide. Then she lifted her hands. Red lines branded her skin.
She jumped up and shuffled toward him with her ankles till tied, dropping to her knees at his side. Her hands trembled over him, hovering over his shoulder, but she didn’t touch him.
“Why did he have to handcuff you?” she almost wailed.
His handcuffs were the old-school kind, solid and unforgiving. He rattled the chain to feel the play. Then he rotated his wrist, testing the lock. He could snap the leg off the desk, except it was metal bolted to metal.
That left one option.
He looked at his hand. “You might hear a popping sound.”
“Liam—” Worry flashed in her eyes. “Don’t! You’ll hurt yourself.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Angel, I’m already hurt.”
He took a deep breath, then angled his thumb toward the cuff and yanked. The world went white in front of his eyes, and a loud curse broke from him.
He slipped the cuff over his dislocated joint. He cradled his thumb against his chest for a breath, then shook his hand once to snap it back in until he could set it right once they were out of here.
A violent pulse pounded in his shoulder, and warm blood crawled down his biceps.
Next thing he knew, he woke up with his head in Elin’s lap. A hot tear dripped onto his jaw, making his eyelids flutter.
“Oh my god! Liam! I don’t know what to do. You’ve lost too much blood. You passed out!”
He raised the hand of his uninjured side, gently stroking his thumb over her cheek and catching her tear.
“We have to get out of here. But you can’t walk—you’re too weak.”
“Watch me.” He started to shift into a sitting position, but the room spun, and he collapsed again. Elin brought her arms loosely around him, supporting him while trying not to cause him pain.
He let out a groan and fixed his stare on Elin. “I have to tell you—”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “You idiot!” Her whisper was furious but tender. “You beautiful idiot.” She slumped over him, head bowed.
“Help me sit up.”
Her head snapped up, and she searched his face. He could see from her expression that his appearance was scaring her, but he needed this.
When he started to move again, she let out a soft cry and grabbed him by the good shoulder, helping him into a sitting position.
Deep green eyes burned into his. Her lips a breath away. “Are you okay? Are you going to pass out?”
He leaned closer, thinking to taste her sweet lips. But she drew back.
“I can’t get you out of here alone. I need your team. Where are they?” she cried.
“They’ll come.” His voice was edged with pain but a solid thread of conviction ran beneath it.
“We don’t have any weapons—Kent took them. He took your comms device too. You’re too heavy for me to carry. I could maybe drag you?”
He shook his head. “With your feet still bound? Elin, stop. We’re safe for the moment, and I need you to listen to me.” He pushed his spine to the wall where he wanted it. And finally…finally…let the words come.
“I left you.” No way to dress up that ugly truth. “Two years ago, I made a call and it gutted both of us.”
She lifted her head but didn’t look at him.
“I told myself that you were safer without me, and that was true. To a point. I told myself that disappearing was how I could protect what mattered most to me.”
Her throat worked in a hard swallow, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t cry either, though he saw her lips purse as if holding back a tidal wave.
“Blackout gave me a way to keep the world from using you to hurt me. But that was selfish of me, even while I was calling it sacrifice. It was me managing my fear…but putting a burden on you.”
A muffled sob broke from her.
He felt like he stood on a cliff…and he stepped anyway. “I’m sorry, angel. So goddamn sorry I hurt you. That I broke that trust between us.”
Her breath hitched.
“Things are different now. My first team was good—brothers through and through—but Blackout is where the best of every branch come to sharpen each other. It’s not just elite, it’s…” He broke off, searching for the word.
“Evolution,” she whispered.
He nodded, chest welling with pride at the world he was part of. After all the times he felt like he stood on the outer ring of Charlie, he’d really been standing with his brothers the whole time.
“As you learned tonight when you saw those guys from Alpha team, we are not alone. I don’t just have my brothers in Charlie. I have all the other teams in Blackout. It’s a big family. And it’s growing, Elin. You saw that ultrasound. You know what’s possible.”
A tear tracked down her cheek. It hurt him to see it…but it brought hope to the surface too, that she was listening to him and finally reacting to what he had to say instead of bottling it all up.
He reached out with his good arm and brushed his fingertip over the tear, wiping it away. “I didn’t say the words when you needed me to. Two years ago, I wasn’t sure we could make it work. I closed that door and then I couldn’t find a way back. But you did.”
“Liam…”
“Elin, I’ve been in love with you before I was a ghost. That love didn’t die when I did. And it only grew when I saw you again.”
Her eyes shone with fury and relief and fear all braided together. “You should have said so sooner.”