Chapter 1 #2
Phoenix stared at Cannon. Noted the firm line of his mouth. The slight narrowing of his eyes. The man was serious. And Phoenix didn’t doubt his former-team leader could unearth everything about “Olivia” in less than five minutes.
He stuffed a hand in his pocket—traced the edge of the smooth metal surface tucked deep inside. Anna’s dog tags. The ones he’d had hanging from his rearview ever since he’d walked out of Walter Reed. That he’d planned on tossing in the ocean before following them in until Smyth had interrupted him.
Despite being fake, he hadn’t been able to get rid of them. Couldn’t seem to take that final step. A fact Cannon would capitalize on if he knew Phoenix still had them. Proof he was just blowing smoke where she was concerned. Lying to save what little pride he had left.
“Then, save that marker for a real emergency.” He motioned to the road. “Are we going to sit here all day, or are we going back to the office?”
“I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re in, because I’ve got all day. All week, actually, so…”
“You’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?”
“Give us a chance. Six months. If, after you’ve had time to adjust, see what it is we really do, you decide it’s not for you—if you want to hitch a ride to Mexico and disappear—I’ll buy you a ticket. Hell, any one of us would personally drive you to the border. Just, let us be that first step.”
Those voices in his head. The ones that kept reminding him of his promise. That, if he hadn’t been at that warehouse three months ago, Crow would likely be dead. That it had been more than dumb luck or perfect timing. More like fate. That, maybe, just maybe, his team needed him, too.
He studied Cannon. The hard stare, stoic expression.
No way the man was accepting anything less than Phoenix’s full surrender.
In fact, he wouldn’t put it past his boss to hogtie him to a chair until he relented.
No doubt with the rest of the team joining in.
That his buddies might go as far as having that Brady guy drug him—just enough to sign some kind of contract that bound Phoenix to the company until Cannon had gotten his six months.
Had a chance to fix whatever had come loose in Phoenix’s head. Slay his demons.
Not that he thought that was possible. That he’d ever be anything close to normal.
Hard, when he didn’t have a clue what normal was.
Hadn’t experienced anything that hadn’t been at the extremes.
Growing up. Then, the Teams. Losing Anna—Olivia.
His entire life had either been a version of Heaven or Hell. Mostly the latter.
Another glance at that field outside the truck. The swirls of dirt kicking along the barren ground as the wind picked up. The lone scarecrow off in the distance. Nothing left to protect.
Exactly how Phoenix felt. A soldier without a war. A purpose.
“A chance, Phoenix. That’s all I’m asking for.”
He sighed. “Six months?”
“That’s what I said.”
“True, but are we talking physical time, or this mysterious mileage crap? Where the six months is really six years?”
Cannon laughed, and Christ, it made Phoenix jump. Actually jump because he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard his boss laugh before. Yell, sure. Usually at him. But laugh...
Jericho. She was the difference. Hell, Phoenix had damn near tripped onto his ass the first time the woman had walked into the loft.
Not because of her, but because of the dopey smile on Cannon’s face.
The one that said the man was completely committed to Jericho’s happiness.
That his entire existence depended on the quality of hers.
That, coupled with the rest of his buddies shacking up or getting married, and Phoenix had wondered if he was actually in a coma, and this was some weird dream.
It wasn’t, but it did make him feel out of place. Just like when he’d first joined the squad. The dark horse.
Cannon glanced over his shoulder then rejoined traffic. “Now, that’s more like the Phoenix I remember. Always a comeback.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided the question.”
“I’m just leaving it open. Which reminds me. I’ve got a job for you.”
He coughed, trying not to spit across the windshield. “How the hell do you have a job when I hadn’t even agreed to join up?”
“Please, you saying yes was just a formality. And the call came in while you were at the medical board meeting. Just so happens to be right up your alley.”
“Didn’t realize you took on suicide missions.”
A huff, but there was a hint of a smile. A throwback to their Delta days and Phoenix’s sarcastic wit. “I doubt there’ll be drones if that makes you feel any better.”
“So, just bad guys with guns.”
“Are there any other kind?”
Phoenix ran a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw against the stab of pain in his ribs. The one that wouldn’t seem to go away. “After all these injuries, I might have lost my touch.”
A snort. “So, you’re saying you’re only as good as the rest of us, now, instead of that freaking inhuman thing you had going? I can live with that.”
Cannon nudged Phoenix’s shoulder. “You in?”
“Do I get to know anything else before I say ‘yes’? Is ‘no’ even an option?”
“Normally, yes, but in this case… You’re my only option. And Bishop will fill you in once you get to Blackpine.”
“Black what?”
“Blackpine, Washington.” Cannon winked at him, the fucker. Who winked, anymore? “As of right now, you’re officially on loan to Timberline Tactical Group. Welcome back to the team, Vale. Things are about to get crazy.”