Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Talk about a cock-up...
Olivia stood there, Gibson’s hand still on her arm, all four of them seemingly frozen on their feet before Bishop sighed.
He took his seat, lightly punching Ethan in the thigh until the guy looked at him.
Bishop motioned to the chair, arching his brow until Ethan finally sat, arms still crossed.
Those gorgeous hazel eyes pinned on her.
Or, maybe he was looking through her. She couldn’t tell.
Couldn’t do much of anything other than focus on breathing.
And even that seemed hopeless. As if her lungs had forgotten how to inflate.
How to move enough oxygen around to keep her from slowly passing out.
Gibson’s hand shifting to the small of her back shook her out of it. Allowed her to gasp in enough air she was able to sit instead of simply falling onto the seat. Not that she felt any better, but at least she hadn’t made a complete fool of herself.
Yet.
Though, looking at Ethan, feeling the weight of his stare—all the unanswered questions adding to the already suffocating tension—it seemed reasonable that it was only a matter of time before that changed.
Because he’d be right. Whatever he accused her of, she’d be guilty.
If for no other reason than she’d lied to him.
Long past when she should have come clean.
Sure, she’d been undercover, and had only kept up the ruse in an effort to protect him, but…
At some point, he’d deserved to know the truth.
Could have been trusted with it. He’d proven his loyalty from the first day they’d met and had continued to prove it over the course of their relationship.
Even at the end, he’d risked his life for hers, knowing she wasn’t who she’d claimed.
And she had a nagging feeling that, if their positions had been reversed, he would have confided in her.
Believed in what they’d had enough to risk being outed.
Getting killed. Hell, he would have welcomed death if that had been the price he’d had to pay.
He’d always been a bit…off that way. A bit too eager to take a bullet.
But that selflessness had only made her love him more.
Shit. She couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t mention the word love and Ethan in the same sentence, even if it was only in her mind. She’d burned that bridge. Blown it up, judging by his expression. So, wishing she’d done things differently wasn’t an option.
Like everything in her life, she had no other choice but to steer into the spin and pray she came out the other side somewhat intact. That, the way he was looking at her, right now, didn’t haunt her dreams for the next fifty years.
Having Gibson give her shoulder a squeeze made her painfully aware that they were all sitting there. Staring. Just a fraction better than when they’d been standing. At least, the other patrons weren’t gawking at them, anymore. Wondering if a row was about to break out.
She should have seen this coming. She’d been leery that Gibson would call in backup. That she’d have to face one of Ethan’s teammates—find a way to make the mission work while staring at all her failures reflected in his mate’s eyes. Having to see them in Ethan’s…
If she could bow out, she would. But, damn it, this wasn’t just about MI6.
Her mission. If there was even a chance they could bring Smyth in, she had to take it.
Regardless of the personal cost. She’d already lost too much to turn back.
Even if that meant destroying what was left of her soul.
The sliver she’d kept alive after losing everything.
Losing Ethan.
Another squeeze had her looking at Gib. Reading the man’s concerns in the tilt of his brows.
Obviously, he hadn’t planned on this. But, she also knew him well enough to realize he wouldn’t back down, either.
That they’d have to find a way to make it work, or risk losing what could be their only chance at nailing Smyth.
She tried to give him a reassuring smile but knew it had fallen short. The way the fine lines around his eyes deepened, or the rough rasp of air that barely sounded above her own heartbeat echoing inside her head. He rarely let any kind of emotional cue slip. So, for him to be at all telling…
Gibson folded his hands on the table, any hint of emotion tucked away. “Like I said. We should chat.”
He glanced at her, then Ethan, seemingly waiting for the other man to make a move, but Ethan just sat there. Staring. Looking as if he might go for his weapon at any second. She just wasn’t sure who he planned on shooting.
Bishop cleared his throat. “So, obviously you two know each other—”
“Do we?” Ethan’s voice sounded harsh. As if he’d had to physically reach into his chest and claw the words out. “Because I’m thinking we don’t know each other, at all. Isn’t that right, Anna?”
Shit. His eyes. The tight press of his lips. Ethan wasn’t just angry. He was hurt. Soul deep like she felt. The kind she wasn’t sure she could ever atone for.
Gibson grumbled something, making eye contact with Ethan. “Phoenix—”
“Don’t. Just…forget it.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re ready to do that, mate.”
“I told Cannon I’d give him six months. And, seeing as I haven’t broken a promise to my team, yet, figure now’s not the time to start. Besides, everyone else is out on assignment. That’s why you got me. He’s scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
He glanced at her, and she had to fight not to fidget at the lethal gleam in his eyes. The one that confirmed Gib’s statement, and that Ethan wasn’t anywhere close to letting what had happened go.
Gibson cursed. “That’s not what I meant.”
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, spiking the caramel-colored strands out in every direction. “Regardless, you’re stuck with me.”
“Even if it means working with me?”
God, had she really said that aloud? Because she hadn’t planned on saying anything. Was content to let Gibson handle the meeting—give her a chance to rein in her feelings before having to carry on a conversation with Ethan. And yet, the words had just slipped out.
Ethan flinched. Not enough Gib or Bishop might have noticed, but she did. The slight lift of his shoulders. The way his mouth pinched tight as he moved incrementally back in his chair. He hadn’t expected her to speak, either.
The muscle in his temple flexed as he firmed his jaw, looking at each person in turn before settling on her.
“I grew up being used as a punching bag for my old man until I was old enough to join the Army. I’d spent most of those eighteen years running interference for my little brother, not that it helped in the end.
So, yeah, I think I can man up. On one condition… ”
She nodded. Couldn’t get anything else past the lump in her throat, because…
damn. He’d never mentioned his family before.
She’d known all along he had demons. Had suspected he’d been abused, judging by the scattering of old scars on his body—the kind that spoke of cigarette burns and frequent beatings.
But, hearing him say it so bluntly, as if it meant nothing—as if he’d meant nothing—hurt more than if he’d lashed out.
Gibson stiffened, one hand fisting on top of the table before he tucked them both in his lap. “What’s that?”
“No more lies. I don’t care about national security or need-to-know bullshit.
If you’re looking to even the score or working for an agency.
I’ve kept secrets all my life—long before I got top secret clearance with Delta Force.
Would die before I outed a teammate, so…
The truth. Even if it’s just between the four of us. ”
Gibson glanced at her, nothing more than a raise of his brow. She nodded. Again. Knowing they didn’t really have a choice. That, and because she owed Ethan the truth. All too late, she realized, but maybe it would salvage the mission.
“I can live with that. Not that I’ve got much to hide.”
“Thinking we might want to go someplace more secure before we have that discussion.”
Bishop grinned. “Actually, the café’s a setup. Everyone in here’s a plant. Those three men at the closest table are the rest of my team. And the others are fire fighters and officers. We’re fairly secure.”
Phoenix frowned, glancing around the room. “Why the ruse?”
“We wanted everything to appear casual without taking any chances.”
“Chances of what?” He looked at Bishop then over to Gibson. “You think Smyth might have agents watching you?”
Gibson sighed. “Not us, mate.”
“But you didn’t know I was com…” He paused, his gaze finding hers. “You’re worried Olivia’s cover might be blown. That he knows she’s MI6. Maybe had one of his international assets follow her here from London.”
An arch of Gibson’s brow. “Did Cannon tell you that?”
“Cannon? Break a confidence? Please. I might not remember much about that last confrontation with Slader. But I heard you and Crow talking. He said that Olivia wasn’t just British, she was MI6.
Which means, you’re MI6, too, mate.” He leaned back, any previous tension gone.
“Makes me wonder who’s running this op. If there might be other agendas at play. ”
“Would it bother you if there were?”
“I just want Smyth.”
“Then, it seems we’re in agreement.” He motioned to Bishop.
“Bishop already knew about my…affiliation. Was gracious enough to involve his company when I discovered it was our only option if we wanted to land this mission. And, for the record, I was going to tell you I was MI6. But Livy’s got far more at stake, here.
I only do the occasional op. Pick and choose, so to speak.
She doesn’t have that luxury, and her life could be in jeopardy if the wrong people discover who she really is. ”
Ethan glanced at her, only, there wasn’t the anger she’d expected. What she saw scared her far more. “Honesty isn’t really her forte, but regardless, I know how to keep a secret.” He looked over at Bishop. “We good?”