Chapter 31
Every beat of my heart reverberates through my skull.
My head pounds in a rhythm that doesn’t match the rest of the world.
When I sit up, my head spins so violently that I feel the Humvee flip again, metal grinding as glass showers over us.
The metallic tang of my own blood is like a bad memory that won’t dissolve.
The tent lights are dimmed to a dull halo, Jagger and the guys insisting I rest while they work.
As much as I want to fight them, my body isn’t cooperating.
Not that I am getting any quality sleep with my eyes closed.
The moment they shut, all I see is Reese and the worst possible things I’ve seen in this world.
Blindly, I reach across my cot for the satellite phone.
The phone that still hasn’t rung with any answers since I laid it beside me.
I punch the screen with my thumb, dialing Mattis’s number.
If anyone can pull the threads the way they need to be maneuvered, it’s him.
He’s managed the impossible more often than not, and right now, he feels like my only hope.
The call rings and rings, my annoyance growing with each that goes unanswered. “Mattis,” I rasp, not having enough calm left in me to sound reasonable. “Updates?”
There’s a pause on the other end that is followed by a heavy sigh. “Hawk–”
“It’s been hours! Fucking find something!
Find her!” The command is as much to him as it is to myself.
“Where the hell are you on that satellite scrape? That blackout?” My voice gets louder, higher, tearing my throat raw.
The tent seems to shrink with every syllable.
Pain spikes along my ribs as I shout, a savage reminder of the ambush. But I don’t stop. I don’t know how to.
“I’m trying,” Mattis grouses. His words feel thin, an apology wrapped in static. “I’ve been brute-forcing legacy caches and cross-referencing allocation headers since we got off the phone. Finding her is the only thing I’m working on.”
“Work harder!” I growl my frustration at him. “Trace the trucks, the tracks. Trace fucking anything that might be a lead.” The demands tumble out of me, desperately to find anything that will bring Reese back to me.
I stand, staggering like a man finding his sea legs. Every harsh movement to right my ship sets off hot lightning across my torso. My ribs are on fire, and the pain from my shoulder zips down my arm and into my fingertips.
“Okay. Okay. Calm—” Mattis is cut short as I slam the phone against the canvas.
The tent replies with a dull, hollow thud before the phone crashes to the wooden floor.
I clutch my side, the prior lightning strike suddenly feeling like a tender kiss compared to the stabbing pain flaring across my rib cage.
I groan, clutching my bandaged side with one hand, pressing on it as if I can push the pain away.
It eats around my ribs and down into my thigh.
The pain is agonizing, but it still hurts less than my heart.
“Jesus, Hawk.” Jagger storms into the tent. He’s all steadiness, but with that thread of concern I hate being directed at me. “You’re not helping anyone like this.”
“Did you find anything?” I grit through the pain.
“We’re doing everything we can,” Jagger exhales. He’s circled the base like a dog on a scent for hours, and I know it. But I want more. I want Reese in arms and her captors’ blood on my hands.
“Have you found any trace of her?”
“No,” Jagger says bluntly, and the single syllable is crushing.
“Then you aren’t doing enough. None of us is.”
“Hawk. Let us work.” Jagger steps closer.
His tone is softer as he tries to build a ladder of logic out of the ruins I’ve made.
“Damon is sweeping the wreckage again, trying to see where the tracks pick up. Gunnar is sweeping the west side of the base for the third time. Mattis has been mainlining energy drinks and digging through satellite surveillance. We all want her back as badly as you do.”
I want to believe him. But the truth is, they don’t love her like I do. “You’re telling me what you’ve done.” I pace, my feet stomping across the hard ground in spite of the pain it causes. “I’m asking what you’ve found.”
Jagger holds my stare for a moment, but his gaze falters and falls to the ground. “Nothing.”
A shadow falls over me as Gunnar strides into the tent, arms crossed and face pinched tight. “You need to bed down, Hawk,” he insists. It’s not a request.
“I need to find Reese,” I protest. “The four of you aren’t enough. You need me out there, helping.”
“You aren’t in any condition to lead a manhunt.” Gunnar is calm and controlled, as always, but today I want to throttle him for it. I don’t want calmness. I want them to be as fired up as I am. His eyes flick to my ribs and the bandages. “You’re a walking wreck.”
“Then you lead.” The words come out harsh. “I didn’t sign up to be a goddamn patient while she’s being dragged to who knows where.”
“We all want the same thing. But charging out half-cocked will put us all in danger. Reese included. You know that. You taught us better.” I taught them everything.
Every tactic, every technique, and the importance of caution.
I taught them to be methodical. Careful.
My very teachings are the reason I’ve made it through over twenty years of putting my life on the line.
But I’m willing to throw all the rules out the window for Reese.
I’d do anything to get her back. Even if that means sacrificing myself.
Jagger crosses the distance between us and puts a hand on my good shoulder. “We’re going to find her, Hawk. We will.”
I stare at him until the feral part of me quiets a fraction. Only without anger coursing through my veins, I’m left with far worse emotions. Terror and guilt.
The pain wins. My knees buckle, and I crumple to the floor, the air punching out of my lungs as I land hard on my side.
An animalistic sound rips out of me, but it has nothing to do with the pain of the impact.
It’s raw and ugly, tearing through my chest until I’m shaking.
The tent walls close in, and I struggle to breathe.
My vision blurs, but it doesn’t matter. All I can see is Reese’s face with that small curl at the corners of her mouth that silently promised, We’re going to be okay.
But we’re not.
“It’s my fault,” I sob, my voice shredded and foreign. My fingers dig into the plywood beneath me, curling like claws. “It’s all my goddamn fault.”
Boots scuff the floor, followed by the rustle of fabric as Jagger kneels behind me. Without a moment of hesitation, his arm comes around my shoulders, pulling me tight. His voice is low, hoarse with exhaustion, but solid in a way mine isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Chris.”
Hearing my name—my real name—nearly undoes me. Nobody calls me that anymore. No one but Reese. Not since before the army turned me into Hawk. Before I learned to bury every piece of softness I had left. The man Reese still sees underneath all this armor.
I shake my head, refusing the comfort even though I lean into it. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how fast it happened. I should’ve seen it coming. I always see it coming.” The words hitch, my breath hitching. “I let my guard down. I let her guard down.”
Jagger’s grip tightens around me. “You couldn’t have known. None of us could’ve.”
“I can’t lose her again.” The confession slips out before I can stop it. “It nearly broke me the first time, Jagger. I can’t…” My hands fist against my thigh, nails biting through the fabric of my pants. “I can’t survive it again.”
“I know,” he murmurs. He watched me spiral out of control before helping me pull myself back together all those years ago. “We’re gonna find her. We’re gonna bring her home.”
Home.
The word stings. Because home isn’t a place anymore. It’s her. Always has been. Without her, I’m just a man wandering through the wreckage of life.
The satellite phone rings, buzzing lightly against the hardwood floor.
I freeze for half a second, then lunge for it, pain exploding across my torso.
My vision tunnels dark at the edges, but I clamber across the floor.
After picking it up, I fumble to answer the call.
“Tell me you found something,” I breathe, barely holding the phone to my ear.
Static crackles on the other end. “Hawk?”
“Mattis. Tell me you found something, Mattis. Anything.”
The moment of silence feels like it stretches on for an eternity. “I’ve got a lead,” he shares finally.