Chapter 16 #2
“I know,” he admitted simply. “I’m saying it now.”
Tears streamed down her face, but she turned to him with a smile that cut through the shadows of the moment, making him believe he had a fighting chance.
“Good,” she breathed. “Because I love you too.”
* * * * *
Elin’s lips still tingled from the words. They hung between them, a fragile bubble that felt brand-new. She had wanted to say them so badly she’d stopped believing it possible. After Liam was gone…she spent every breath she took wishing she could still tell him.
When she saw him alive, she only wanted to punch him. And the wall of pain between them prevented her from letting herself feel. But being faced with the possibility of losing him again—for real this time—tore down every brick.
She sat quietly for a second longer, breathing in the moment as if it were oxygen after holding her breath underwater for a long time.
Liam didn’t speak either, and she darted a glance at him to ensure he was okay. He’d lost a lot of blood. His shirt sleeve was soaked in it, the black cloth inky and wet.
Where the hell was the team? Without looking at a clock, she didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like a month had passed at least. Definitely more than the ten minutes the team planned. They should be here by now.
She tried to picture the team in the tunnels, waiting for her and Liam to return. Con making the decision to go after them. The team in full gear, weapons at the ready, rushing through the tunnels and entering the Pentagon.
Those men had become her friends. She was closer to some than others—some were the kind of comrades she nodded to or smiled at as they passed in the hallway. Even those men—the ones she’d only ever shared a nod with—would have her back without hesitating.
The idea surprised her as much as steadied her. Now she understood the force behind Liam’s statement that they would come.
Then there were the women on base, a sisterhood created by their common purpose to support the team behind the scenes.
And she was part of it.
All the ladies had become her friends, something she hadn’t experienced in many years.
“They’ll come,” she whispered.
Liam gave a nod, too weak for her peace of mind. She grasped his hand and found it cold. Too cold.
A colder panic swept through her. What if Kent stopped Charlie team from reaching them? One office worker was no match for SEALs, but what if Kent managed to block their way into the Pentagon?
Or Cipher did.
A shudder rippled down her spine.
“We’re cut off without our comms. But the contingency’s in place. Where the hell’s the team?” he muttered to himself.
She brought a fist up, pressing it into her lips to keep a cry inside. They were helpless. Without any way to defend themselves. She had only a rudimentary knowledge of self-defense, and Liam was weakened.
“What if Kent comes back?”
“Then he’ll regret it.” The harsh grit in his tone buoyed her spirits and brought tears to her eyes.
“I don’t think he’ll come back,” she surprised herself by saying. “I told him that he’s better off taking a deal from us. But he still ran.”
“Cipher’s got a hold on him.”
She drew her knees upward and rested her head on them. A tremor ran through her, a slight, nonstop shiver like she’d been standing out in the winter weather too long.
“Come here.” Liam slid his good arm around her. Bit by bit, she eased herself toward him until she gently leaned on him, careful not to cause more pain. The thought of him passing out again, like he did after that thumb trick, shot dread to the pit of her stomach.
But he loved her. And she loved him. So damn much.
“What happens when we get out of here?” she whispered. “If we get out of here.”
“I’m going to lock our bedroom door and make sure everyone in the base hears you screaming my name.”
A giggle, unexpected and shocking, bubbled out of her. “That sounds horribly embarrassing and wonderful at the same time.”
He brushed his lips over the curve of her cheek. “Believe me. It’s going to be wonderful.”
He kissed her, slow, soft, lips moving with a gentle sweep that must be what real love tasted like. She wasn’t surprised to realize she’d tasted it before. Even though they’d never confessed it before now, they both knew it in their hearts. In their souls.
Suddenly, he froze, every muscle and tendon turning to steel against her. Once again, his sharp SEAL hearing picked up a sound before she ever detected it.
She lifted her gaze to his and mouthed: Blackout?
He shook his head. In a blink, he shot to his feet as if he had never in his life sustained a papercut, let alone had a hole blown in his shoulder.
He grabbed the chair she’d been bound to and in two strides, pitched up beside the doorframe, the chair raised, prepared to smash it over someone’s head.
Elin leaped up, teetering on her bound feet, back pressed to the wall, her mind working in a dozen directions at once. With a lurch, she realized Kent could be on the other side of that door.
She cast a look around the room for any instrument to cut her bonds. When her gaze fell over a letter opener, she snatched it up and sliced through the zip-tie. Then she lunged forward, grabbing a heavy plaque bearing Kent’s name, an award for his service to the government.
Traitorous bastard.
She rushed to the other side of the door, raising the plaque with Kent’s name on it—literally and figuratively.
The door opened. She caught the beige color of his jacket sleeve, then saw the cold blue-black steel of the pistol he held.
Muscle memory kicked in. Awkward weeks of self-defense classes flipped a switch in her body. Fury burned away fear.
She caught his arm, wrenched hard, and the weapon clattered to the floor. Her pulse was louder than the gun’s fall.
In a fluid move, she swept the pistol off the floor and aimed it at their attacker.
Liam lunged, and together they took the man down. It was far from graceful, but it was effective. She grabbed cables and tossed them at Liam to tie Kent up with while keeping the weapon trained on him.
When Liam had Kent’s arms secured behind his back and worked on his ankles, his lips twisted in a grimace of pain the movement cost him.
“Please,” Kent sobbed, voice broken fragments that reflected his life. “Please—I’ll cooperate. I just—my family—my wife—my son, he’s a freshman in college. I have a golden retriever—please. I didn’t mean to get in this deep.”
Liam crouched beside him, blood flowing freely down his arm, his eyes hard as flint. He didn’t look away from Kent. “We’ll see what we can do.” He didn’t finish the threat that hung in the background of the statement. “But if you don’t cooperate—”
“I will. I will,” Kent repeated like a mantra.
Elin kept the gun steady until Liam reached out and gently took it from her hand. He motioned for her to step back—always the protector.
The man’s pleading continued in a steady litany. Then they both heard the muted steps approaching the office.
SEALs flooded into the small room, making it feel cramped and somehow, like home. With complete authority, they cleared the threat.
Dante hurried to her side. “You okay?”
She gave a shaky nod. “It’s Liam. He needs help!”
Ash was on Liam in two strides. With a light, practiced touch, he assessed the bullet wound. For a moment, she held her breath, her stare fixed on her lover’s face. He was paler than he had been before he leaped up to fight Kent.
She realized with a jolt that he never smashed the chair over Kent’s head. He didn’t need to, because she took action.
“He’ll survive.” Ash’s tone was quiet but firm. She felt the entire room exhale with the news.
Still, worry wrapped tight around her. The sight of all that blood was pulling up the edges of her calm.
Con’s command broke through. “Tie him up better and leave his ass for the FBI. They’re on their way.”
Dante had his phone in hand. “I’ll tell them we gift-wrapped him.”
To her astonishment, she saw Liam’s shoulders shake, not with tears of pain—with amusement.
Idiot. Beautiful idiot.
She loved him so damn much.
There was a poetry in the way the team moved, turning chaos into a neat, sealed package. At that moment, the men from Alpha team entered. With one quick look around, they pieced together the puzzle and jumped in to help finish it.
When they had Kent trussed up like a hog and cuffed to the desk for good measure, Apollo jerked his head toward their prisoner on the floor. “Who stabbed him?”
Elin shot him a sheepish look. “I did. With a pencil.”
All attention snapped to her.
Ash’s lips twitched. “Being a pencil pusher comes with benefits.” His remark had amusement rippling through them.
Apollo grunted. “I’ll hand this asshole off when the Bureau gets here.”
“Thanks, man.” Con stared at Apollo for a long beat, as if something passed between them she couldn’t understand.
Later, she would ask Liam what it was all about, that look.
But she recalled Sophie telling her about Apollo and how the woman who loved him believed he was dead.
The story was worth hearing, as Elin knew all their stories were.
She only hoped she would be sticking around the Charlie base long enough to have the experience.
With Liam on his feet, supported on each side by Ash and Steele, and Dante with a hold on Elin’s arm, they led them back through the tunnels.
She barely registered the quiet thump of boots or the way the overhead lights flickered. When they reached the end, Sparrow turned to Con. “You know what happens after a successful op.”
Con nodded. “Cookout time. And we’d love to join you. But we’ve got a man to patch up.”
Sparrow stepped forward, fist extended for Con to bump knuckles with. “Raincheck then.”
Elin knew by the crease between Con’s brows that he was thinking of Sophie. And Dante was thinking of Kennedy. And Steele and Henner’s thoughts lingered on the women they loved.
She threw a look at Sparrow. “Thank you.”
His lips quirked at one corner. “Take care of him. He’s one of the good ones.”
Her heart flooded with love and peace and gratitude. “I know.”
They were routed to the airstrip. Ash was muttering instructions into his comms about med evac and sutures. Inside the chopper, Elin sat with Liam leaning into her. His fingers closed around hers with a strength that belied the sallowness of his skin.
Safe did not mean unhurt. Loved did not mean invincible. Cared for did not mean everything was fixed. But she let herself lean into the warmth of the moment.
They were alive. They were together. They were wrapped in competence and care of their team.
She felt safe and loved—but the sight of Liam’s pallor kept the tang of fear in the back of her throat.
She pressed her forehead to his temple. “We’ll get you patched up,” she whispered. “We’ll get through this.”
He squeezed her fingers once, faint but sure.
As the chopper cut a path through the darkness, she let herself believe—fiercely—that they would.