35. Mel
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
MEL
Aaliyah pulls my bedroom door closed, leaving me to stare at the shadows that shiver across the striated ceiling. The movement makes my pounding head spin, and I squeeze my eyes shut as nausea rolls through me again.
A concussion is exactly what I don’t need.
I grit my teeth against the unfairness of it. I’m the one who stood up and said enough was enough, the one who made this mission happen, then ensured we came home even after we were surrounded. Yet here I am, stuck in bed alone while the rest of the team celebrate our success in the mess hall.
With caution, I crack my lids. The soft light from the small fire Sam left burning in the grate sends jagged shards of agony spearing through my brain, but I don’t close my eyes this time. I ball my fists and ride it out.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Look around the room, will it to hold steady. Breathe. Sit up, slide back against the pillows. Let the pain wash through, have its moment. Then let it go.
After a few minutes, the Advil kicks in, and the sharp ache numbs to a constant but easily ignored throb in the back of my head. I’m not sure how much say Aaliyah has in what I’m allowed to do now, but I will not relinquish control of my mission. Odds are, Lisa won’t support that anyway. This is not a Resistance mission. It’s mine.
I hug my knees to my chest and study the stitching on my comforter, already itching to get back to work. I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, who cares? If my health is the cost of bringing down Mom and Dad’s killers and saving lives, I’ll gladly pay it.
Three soft knocks stab into my head.
Sam. I knew he wouldn’t leave me to rot alone in the dark.
“Come in,” I call, then wince when agony flashes behind my eyeballs. Stupid concussed brain.
The door hinges squeak, and before I really register what I’m seeing, my heart’s jammed in my airway.
Tommy.
A strangled cry breaks through my lips as I lurch to my feet, ignoring the renewed spinning in my head, and stagger toward him. It’s hard to check for injuries with the dim light, but I frantically scan his shadowy form anyway. Relief and a deep, glowing warmth unfurl in the pit of my stomach when I find none, and I throw myself into his open arms and breathe in his woodsy scent, like an October wind through the pines. It’s a balm to my soul.
My eyes burn.
He holds me tight, pressing his face into my hair and rocking us gently side to side.
He’s alive. He’s okay. He made it back.
He made it home.
I hold him tighter, all the fear I’ve carried for him crashing down on me at once. But as the reality of his safety sinks in, threads of resentment start to sting at the edges of my joy.
He left without even the courtesy of a conversation first.
He could’ve died. Could’ve ruined everything.
Fury brighter than a supernova blooms like an explosion in my heart. I place my palms on his firm chest and shove .
He stumbles back, surprise clear on his shadowed, beautiful face.
“How could you do that?” I half-growl, half-scream. “You said you were falling for me, then disappeared the next day. Didn’t wait to talk, or even say goodbye. Didn’t lend an ounce of support when I volunteered to lead a dangerous mission, just left me to wonder whether you were even alive . Left me distracted and worried sick while I tried to fumble my way through as a team lead with no experience and teammates who were mostly waiting for me to fail!”
I shove again, and this time he doesn’t falter. He’s like a rock, solid and immovable under my tingling palms. Another wave of white-hot rage scorches through me.
“Mel, please,” he whispers.
“I don’t want to hear it. Get out.”
I’m not prepared for any of this, but especially not for the heartbreak that’s so clear on his face. Not even the shadows can hide it.
Deep sadness seeps under the surface of my anger, but I hug my ribs to hold it at bay. Tommy betrayed me. Instead of treating me like an equal, he left me here to twiddle my thumbs and wait for the hero to save the day, like I was a damsel in distress.
I’m no damsel.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the words a hair too thick. “I was wrong.”
I purse my lips. Yeah, you sure as hell were.
“You don’t know what you mean to me.”
“I don’t care.”
“Please. Hear me out.”
I grit my teeth, unable to ignore the grief in his eyes or the way my heart aches in response. I might be furious, but I love him too much to shut him down without a thought. “Fine. Say what you need to say.”
“Thank you.” Tommy fidgets with his bracelet. “It’s just … I can’t describe what it’s like. I see their deaths over and over again. I have for years. Now it’s you in their place, ripped apart every time I close my eyes. I can’t bear it, Mel. I can’t .”
His voice breaks, and I suppress the urge to reach for him, to wrap my arms around his middle and lay my head on his chest and soothe away his pain.
He’s still talking, the words intense and dripping with fear. “I stole the bill of lading from Lisa’s office while everyone was at your trial and went after the pathogen. I didn’t know she’d already sent Jack and Zara. I thought they were stationed at our California safehouse, like they have been for weeks, but they were there, undercover, when the shooting started. They didn’t make it out.”
He swallows as his eyes glitter in the firelight. “Everything I touch turns to ash.”
My chest aches, the echo of his remorse so strong I can’t help but step toward him.
“You’re next,” he whispers.
I close the distance between us, cradling his cheek. He leans into my palm and shuts his eyes, as if in defeat.
“I know you’re afraid, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. But you can’t keep me in a cage, Tommy. We’re in this together.”
His eyes crack open, hollow and etched with despair. “I never should have interfered in your life.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“I can’t lose you. Not like this. Please don’t make the video. We’ll find another way.”
I bite my lip. His fear cuts deep, but this is my life to spend as I choose. I won’t shy away from the responsibility of completing Mom and Dad’s mission. “Those lives are worth the price.”
“I know. What if you posted an anonymous exposé instead? You could keep your face hidden.”
“It wouldn’t hit the same. The public are much more likely to trust someone they can see and relate to.” My voice lowers, every word limned with hatred. “And I want Mr. Edwards to look into my eyes and know I’m coming. I want Reyna and Max Snow’s daughter to haunt his dreams.”
Tommy stares, anguished. “I can’t watch you do this. It will destroy me.”
I take a deep breath as disappointment trickles under my skin and turns my heart to stone. “I understand, and I’d never ask that of you. But if you aren’t going to support me, then please leave.”
“No! I support you, just not … I can’t … they’ll break you, Mel.”
My chest tightens as I push at him again, the disappointment burning its way up my throat. “Leave!”
He steps back, eyes wide. His fear and pain slice through my heart, but I won’t let them stop me. “You can’t watch. I understand. You need to go.”
“I can still help.”
“Go!”
With one final, agonized look, Tommy does as I ask, leaving me in the dark, alone. His absence sends a fresh wave of hurt stabbing through me, worse than anything the concussion could dish out.
I don’t know why I expected him to stay.