Chapter Eight
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The mist rolled low across the Texas Hill Country, softening the sharp edges of the hills and cloaking the land in a quiet stillness.
Eli stood on the front porch of his cabin, one hand wrapped around a chipped Crossfire Ops mug as he took the last sip of lukewarm coffee.
The air was cool, tinged with cedar and the damp earth from last night’s dew.
It should have been peaceful. Hell, on any other day, it might’ve been. But not this morning.
His thoughts circled back to the conversation with Hale and Lawrence the day before. They’d been all smiles and smug confidence, especially Hale, tossing out that recorded message like it was gospel. And it had landed hard.
Olivia didn’t leave the institute because it was a bad place. She left after she tried, and failed, to kill me.
Yeah, no joy in hearing that. It had given Noah, Delaney, and him a gut punch and a whole lot of worry that it might be true.
After they left, Eli and Delaney had holed up in her cabin trying to figure out if the recording from Ava was real. They’d tested it, analyzed the audio, and Isla had worked her tech magic to isolate the voice. No voice synthesis. No deepfake tricks.
It was indeed Ava Camden.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t been coerced. Eli knew that kind of fear. Knew how easy it was to force someone to say the unthinkable if the right leverage was applied.
They did know Olivia’s reaction, though. And when Noah had taken the message to her in the hospital, she’d nearly come unglued. Olivia had sworn it was a lie. That she would never hurt her sister.
And Eli believed her.
Or rather he wanted to believe her, but there was that sliver of doubt, and it ate away at him like acid.
He set the mug on the porch rail, watching the mist snake through the trees. Something about it itched at the back of his brain, like a puzzle with pieces that didn’t quite fit.
Behind him, the cabin creaked as the heater kicked on. Another cool morning, another day closer to the truth. And maybe another step into whatever hell Hale was really hiding behind the walls of his so-called institute.
Eli caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned slightly. Delaney stepped out onto her own porch, her hair pulled back in a loose knot and a steaming mug in her hand. She took a sip, eyes scanning the tree line, her posture easy but alert.
That hit of heat punched through him before he had a chance to brace. Damn it.
He turned back toward his door and shut it a little harder than necessary. Took a breath. Told himself to get a grip. Then he walked down the steps and crossed the short distance between their cabins.
Apparently, he hadn’t done a good enough job of tamping down the heat, because it was still there. Low and tight in his gut. She looked over when she heard him and lifted her chin in greeting, one brow raised like maybe she already knew what was stirring under his skin.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning,” Delaney replied back. “You’re up early.”
“So are you.”
Delaney gave a small shrug and held up her cup. “Coffee and nerves. The breakfast of champions.”
Eli stopped at the base of her steps, trying like hell to keep his gaze on her face and not let it drift. “You sleep at all?”
“Some.” She took another sip and exhaled. He noticed that today her rubber band was tan, nearly the same color as her wrist. “Kept dreaming about that recording.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out toward the trees. “You ready for this?”
Her answer came without hesitation. “Yeah. Just wish we knew what the hell we were walking into.”
He nodded. So did he. And yet, they were going anyway.
Delaney took another sip of her coffee, then lowered the mug and looked at him fully. There was something in her eyes this morning, something clearer. Not lighter, exactly, but steadier.
“You do this every morning?” she asked. “Stand out here, breathe in the fog, pretend everything’s normal?”
“Most mornings,” he said. “Breakfast of champions,” he echoed and then added a grin. “Though it’s easier when you’re not playing over a dozen what-ifs in your head.”
She gave him a half-smile. “Yeah. Those are relentless.”
Eli moved up one step, then another. Close, but not too close. He could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, something clean and barely floral. He didn’t let himself linger on it, but his body sure noticed.
She didn’t move back. Her gaze met his, and something held there. Long enough that the air between them shifted. Tightened.
Eli let out a slow breath. “Delaney.”
She tilted her head. “Yeah?”
He started to say something. Hell if he even knew what. But the words tangled behind the heat building in his chest. Instead, he reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Just that. His fingertips barely grazed her skin.
Her breath caught. She didn’t step away.
“Probably not the smartest idea,” he said, his voice low.
“Definitely not,” she agreed, but her voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “But for a second, it didn’t feel wrong.”
Yeah, and that made this a big-ass problem. Why, why, why wasn’t there an off switch for his dick and any kind of dick thinking?
Eli stepped back, slow and controlled, the heat still simmering. He cleared his throat. “We should get ready. Noah said we’d roll out by eight.”
Delaney nodded, still watching him. “Right. Gear up and prepare for whatever twisted show Hale wants to put on for us.”
But she didn’t move right away. And neither did he.
Delaney turned and placed her coffee mug just inside the cabin, shut the door and then stepped out, falling into stride beside Eli. They walked up the gravel path toward the main building, boots crunching lightly, the morning damp still clinging to the trees and hills around them.
Eli kept his hands at his sides, resisting the urge to reach for hers. He was still feeling the buzz of their earlier moment, still hearing her voice when she said it hadn’t felt wrong.
They reached the steps leading to headquarters just as the front doors opened. Noah stepped out, a tablet in hand and his expression alert.
“I was about to contact you,” he said. “Olivia’s being discharged from the hospital this morning.”
Delaney straightened. “Already?”
“The docs signed off, but she wants to talk to you before she leaves. There’s time,” Noah added. “Hale didn’t give an exact arrival for the tour, so we’re assuming he’ll show up sometime late morning. That gives you at least an hour or two to talk to Olivia and get a read on her.”
Delaney glanced at Eli. “Let’s do it,” she agreed.
“I’ll meet you both at the institute,” Noah added, motioning for them to follow him to his vehicle. “I’ve got another meeting first, so I’ll catch up with you there.”
Both Eli and Delaney made sounds of agreement and watched as Noah opened the back hatch and pulled out two tactical bags, handing one to Eli and the other to Delaney.
“Gear up with the new body cams,” Noah said. “They’re already in your bags.”
Delaney arched a brow. “You mean the lapel ones?”
Noah nodded. “Not lapels. Pins. They’re embedded in the Crossfire Ops logo—those black shield-shaped clips. Flame-and-compass design. Looks like a regular team insignia, but the lens is hidden in the flame. Streams audio and video to our internal system, encrypted.”
Eli clipped his to the front of his jacket. “Subtle.”
“Exactly the point,” Noah said. “We don’t know what Hale’s really walking us into. These might be the only witnesses we get.”
Delaney gave her pin a glance, then looked at Noah. “Voice activated?”
“That, and remote sync. Isla’s on standby to monitor the feed.”
Eli zipped up his bag and stepped back as Noah shut the hatch of the SUV.
After Delaney had her own clip in place, they headed to the SUV, loaded their gear bags into the back, and climbed in.
Eli took the wheel. The drive to the hospital was quick, less than ten minutes, but the moment they pulled in, the tension hit like a wall.
Two local cruisers were parked near the entrance, lights flashing. Eli’s gut tightened.
“Something’s wrong,” Delaney said, already unbuckling.
They rushed in, pushing through the front doors and down the corridor toward Olivia’s room. Raised voices echoed ahead, followed by a sharp yell.
They rounded the corner just in time to see Olivia shouting at Grant. Her face was flushed with anger, her arms flailing. “You liar! You said you didn’t know anything about it!”
Vivian was between them, trying to calm her daughter, but Grant was yelling back, his hands raised in defense. One of the officers stepped in, urging them to lower their voices, but Olivia lunged.
“Get away from me!” Olivia screamed and tried to slap him.
Eli moved fast, grabbing Olivia’s wrist before the strike landed. “Whoa. Easy.”
Her breath came in sharp gasps, tears brimming in her eyes. “He lied to me. He lied about everything.”
Delaney stepped in beside him, her voice calm but firm. “Let’s take a breath, Olivia.”
The two cops exchanged looks, hands still on their belts but not moving to interfere. Grant backed up a step, red-faced and angry. “She’s unstable. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”
Eli stepped in beside Delaney as the yelling inside Olivia’s hospital room reached another pitch. Olivia was on her feet, fists clenched, her eyes blazing. Grant stood a few feet away, hands up, trying to look calm, but the smugness in his expression grated.
“You liar!” Olivia shouted. “I heard you on the phone. You said you were at the institute. A month ago. While I was there.”
Grant’s face went pale. “You misheard me, Olivia. I never—”
Delaney stepped forward and pulled out her phone. “I can call Hale right now. Ask him directly if you’ve ever stepped foot on his property.”
Grant’s mouth opened, then closed. His gaze darted to Vivian, and he tried for a softer tone. “Okay. I did go to Hale. But it wasn’t like that. I didn’t know the girls were there. I swear.”