Chapter 7
December
Talon sat in his hotel room in Dubai, staring at the breakfast room service menu without really seeing it.
The mission had wrapped up successfully, but something felt different this time.
Instead of the usual satisfaction of a job well done, he found himself thinking about someone an ocean away.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out.
A smile spread across his face. Obviously, she was thinking of him, too.
He glanced at his watch. Eight in the morning, which meant it was midnight on the East Coast.
Riley: Made dinner for my dad earlier.
He smiled at the message. She'd been working up to this for weeks. They didn’t have the best relationship.
No shit. The man was an asshole. But she wanted to connect with her father, despite everything.
Talon was blessed with the best parents in the world.
He didn’t understand the asshats who didn’t love their kids with everything they had.
A warm, nurturing environment was the only experience he and his cousins had ever known.
The thought of his parents not supporting everything he did, well, that was foreign as fuck.
Talon: How did it go?
Riley: He ate it.
That was Riley—direct, honest, with just enough dry humor to hide the hurt underneath. He could picture her sitting in that enormous house, probably overanalyzing every moment of the dinner, wondering if she'd done enough.
Talon: Good conversation?
Riley: No, he was busy, as usual.
Bastard. The thought came unbidden. Nah, that opinion was lying under his skin just waiting to spring up.
There she was, trying to rebuild her life, making such incredible progress, and her father couldn't even be bothered to have a real conversation with her.
Talon's jaw tightened. It reminded him of what a shining example of a fucktard her old man was.
Talon: I'm proud of you.
And he meant it. God, he was so proud of her he could hardly contain it.
Riley: For making spaghetti?
She had no idea, did she? No concept of how far she'd come, how much courage it took to keep trying with someone who consistently let her down. Well, damn it, he saw it and recognized it for what it was. Determination, guts, fortitude. She had it in spades.
Talon: For being brave enough to try with your dad.
Because that’s what it was. The same kind of strength that had kept her alive during those terrible days was now channeled into something as simple and heartbreaking as making dinner for a man who didn’t deserve her effort.
Talon stared at the ceiling of his quarters, sleep eluding him despite the exhaustion weighing down his limbs.
The latest mission had gone sideways. Not deadly sideways, but enough to leave him questioning everything.
It was 0200, his time, and he knew he probably shouldn't bother Riley with this, but …
When had she become his anchor? When had talking to her become something so necessary? Or maybe validating was a better word?
Talon: It's 0200, and I can't sleep. Mind if I ramble?
He'd never done this with anyone else—this raw, unfiltered sharing of thoughts.
But something about Riley made him want to be honest about the doubts that kept him awake.
Maybe it was the separation. They were friends, true, but there was a shield of distance that made him feel secure in sharing his thoughts.
Riley: Ramble away.
Two words, but they felt like permission to be human instead of the unyielding force everyone, including himself, expected him to be.
Talon: Do you ever wonder if we're all just making it up as we go along?
Riley: Life, you mean?
Talon: Yeah. Everything. Morality, purpose, meaning. What if there's no grand plan?
It was the question that haunted him after some missions.
The line between right and wrong felt blurred more than it should.
When he had missions like that, he wondered if the choices he’d made actually mattered in the grand scheme of things, or if evil was going to win no matter what he did to prevent it.
Riley: Then we make our own meaning by doing what is right and just.
Fuck. Just like that, she cut through all his philosophical spiraling with something so simple and profound it made his chest tight. She had this way of seeing clearly through the chaos, of finding hope where he only saw questions.
Talon: How very philosophical of you.
Riley: I have a good teacher.
Talon smiled in the darkness. She thought he was teaching her something when the truth was she'd become his touchstone. She’d unknowingly been guiding him back from the darkest places his job took him.
January
Talon was reviewing mission reports when his phone buzzed. He'd been thinking about Riley more than usual today, wondering how she was handling the increasing independence she'd been working toward.
Riley: Went to the grocery store alone today.
His heart actually stuttered. Grocery store. Alone. A couple months ago, she could barely leave her room, and now … Christ, she’s incredible.
Talon: Big step. How was it?
He wanted to know everything—how long she'd been able to stay, whether she'd had a panic attack, if she'd felt safe. But he also knew Riley well enough by now to let her share at her own pace.
Riley: Overwhelming but good. Bought way too much ice cream.
She was okay. More than okay—she was finding humor in her experience. The overwhelming part didn't surprise him; the “good” part made him want to punch the air in victory.
Talon: What flavor?
Riley: All of them. Don't judge me.
Judge her? He wanted to buy her an entire ice cream truck. The image of Riley standing in the frozen food aisle, methodically selecting every flavor available, made him grin like an idiot.
Talon: No judgment. Ice cream is an essential food group.
Riley: Exactly! You get me.
Those last three words hit him harder than they should have.
She felt understood by him, seen by him.
When was the last time someone had said that to him?
When was the last time someone had looked past the tactical precision and the carefully controlled exterior to see the man underneath?
Better question … when had he actually let someone get close enough to look past the front?
Shit … She was the first. And he was unusually okay with that.
"You're grinning at your phone again," Jug observed from across the briefing room. "Must be important intel."
Talon looked up, realizing he'd been staring at Riley's latest message for a solid three minutes. "Shut up."
Hammer laughed and followed Wolf and Stryker out the door. They were locked in the building due to weather, but the guys were heading for food.
"Seriously, Skipper, you've been different lately. More …" Jug paused, searching for the word. "Human."
“Fuck you, I’m not human. You know that.”
“So you say.” Jug laughed.
Talon looked down at his phone.
Talon: Currently in a sandstorm in Morocco. Visibility: Zero.
He typed the message while Jug continued his observation. The sandstorm was actually pretty spectacular in a way that would probably terrify most people. But Riley had this way of appreciating things he’d share with her.
Riley: That sounds terrifying.
Talon: It's actually kind of beautiful in a violent way.
"Is this the woman? The one from the Guinea operation?" Jug's voice was carefully neutral, but Talon could hear the curiosity underneath.
"Her name is Riley," Talon said, not looking up from his phone. The protective instinct that flared when Jug reduced her to “the woman” surprised him with its intensity.
Riley: You have a weird definition of beautiful.
Talon: Says the woman who thinks Brussels sprouts are delicious.
He remembered that conversation from two weeks ago—her passionate defense of vegetables that most people despised. She'd been so animated about it, so genuinely enthusiastic about something as mundane as proper seasoning and baking techniques.
Riley: Brussels sprouts ARE delicious when cooked right!
"You're texting her about vegetables," Jug said, reading over his shoulder with zero shame. "Skipper, you've got it bad."
Talon flipped him off. “Quit reading over my shoulder.”
Talon: If you say so.
Talon shot Jug a look that would have made the most battle-worthy soldier flee in fear, but Jug just grinned. "I want to know about the veggies. I ain’t moving. How long has this been going on?"
"Since we pulled her out of that fucking metal box," Talon admitted because lying to Jug was pointless. "And it's not like that. We're just friends."
"Right. Friends who text about Brussels sprouts and make you smile like a damn fool. When's the last time you smiled like that with us, I mean, about anything that wasn't team or mission-related?"
Talon couldn't actually remember. Before Riley, his smiles had been rare. Now, he found himself smiling at airports, in hotel rooms, even during briefings when her name lit up his phone.
"She's been through hell, Jug. She doesn't need complications like me."
"Maybe not. Could be what she needs is someone who looks at her like she hung the moon. Just a thought."
February
Talon was alone in his quarters, a rare occurrence lately.
Missions were stacked one on top of the other.
The world had gone to hell in a handbasket, and it seemed like Guardian was the only entity working through the insanity.
He knew it wasn’t the case, but still, the past year or so had been a bitch.
Riley's message pinged his phone. He'd been cleaning his weapons, a meditative routine that usually helped him decompress, but tonight, his mind kept wandering, and he was glad for the distraction.
Riley: Question: What's your biggest fear?