SEVENTEEN
The war room at the Charlie base felt like a pressure cooker about to blow. The air was thick with tension and the weight of a mission gone sideways.
Sinner sat at the table between Ash and Mason, arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed on Con. Their CO ran through the debrief with the same precision he brought to every op, though it came down to one truth no one wanted to admit to having a part in.
Cipher had escaped. Again.
This refrain was getting old. The bastard had slipped through their fingers like smoke, leaving nothing behind but Opal’s blood soaking into the porch boards and a trail that went cold three blocks from that dilapidated house.
Sinner’s jaw flexed at the memory of that blood running down her chest. He couldn’t quit hearing the gasp she made when the blade sliced across her collarbone.
He’d been mere millimeters away from losing her, and the thought threatened to gut him if he let himself dwell on it too long.
A voice rose outside the war room, high and sharp.
“Why am I not in the war room? I was kidnapped. Shouldn’t I be part of the debrief?” Opal’s voice pitched higher with each word as she started losing her grip. “Am I fired? I am, aren’t I?”
Sinner’s chest tightened as he listened to her spiral, and he could practically see her mind racing through every worst-case scenario like it always did when she felt the ground shifting beneath her feet.
She’d be thinking about losing her job and ending up on the streets with nothing but a go-bag and a knife, digging through dumpsters for her next meal because she had no safety net or family to fall back on.
She’d be convincing herself that contracting tuberculosis from living on the streets was definitely in her future.
Opal had lived with so much lack growing up, and nothing that was truly hers—even her name—for so long, so he understood her panic when something slipped a little.
He caught Con’s eye across the table, and a silent message passed between them.
“We need to wrap this up before Opal talks herself into a full-blown panic attack and starts making contingency plans that involve living in a cardboard box.”
Beside him, Ash shifted in his seat. “I hear the panic in her voice.”
All eyes snapped to him. Maybe it was his gritty tone or the hint of pain behind the words, like he’d heard true panic before—and never quite shook it off.
Silence throbbed in the war room for a long moment.
Sinner turned his head and met Ash’s gaze. The man gave nothing away. The team hadn’t given him enough credit—Ash had gone from SEAL to recruiter for Blackout to one of their own. But not one of them knew the reasons behind the transition.
Con made a noise low in his throat, pulling Sinner’s attention back to him. His CO’s expression was unreadable. He leaned back in his chair, gaze never leaving Sinner’s face.
“What do you want, Sinner?”
The question hung in the air like a challenge, simple on the surface but loaded with implications that could change…everything.
Sinner didn’t speak for a moment. His mind turned over the answer even though he’d known it from the first time Opal looked at him with those guarded eyes and refused to back down.
He’d known it when she’d stabbed the world’s deadliest terrorist to save herself and walked out covered in blood but still standing.
He knew it when she was shaking apart in his arms and whispering sweet words of love to him.
“Simple,” he said finally, keeping his voice even despite the way his heart hammered his ribs. “Opal.”
Con’s brow lifted a fraction, the only outward sign that the answer surprised him.
“Not so simple. Opal belongs to the FBI. They spent a lot of money training her and turning her into an asset. They’re not going to let her walk away without a fight.
And you know how territorial the Bureau gets about their people. ”
“She can be transferred.”
He blew out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The discussion went on for endless minutes. Sinner forced himself to focus and not let Opal distract him from the real issue—Cipher was still out there and he was going to be more volatile than ever.
Ash cleared his throat to speak. All eyes centered on him. “Cipher’s like a grenade with a pulled pin. It’s going to happen soon. And we need Opal with Blackout when that happens. She’s going to be able to get into channels the rest of us can’t.”
“It’s true,” Sinner spoke up. “She can be in disguise, slip in and out unnoticed, but the rest of us…” He looked around the table at the team, all big, muscled and bad ass in ways that never could be overlooked.
Con nodded. “Whatever’s brewing, I’ll make sure we have Opal with us.”
Sinner’s chest loosened just a bit, but was still tight at knowing that she was going in for round two with Cipher, and soon by the sound of it.
In the hallway, Opal’s voice had faded. When Sophie walked into the war room, Sinner knew the woman had calmed her down and one of the other ladies had probably taken her to the kitchen for coffee.
Sophie slipped into a seat at the end of the table to add her input about a cryptogram she’d been working to crack for weeks. As she spoke, another piece of the puzzle slid into place—the house Cipher had lured Opal to had belonged to a distant relative.
Throughout the discussion, Sinner kept half an ear on the topic because he was also listening for Opal’s voice.
When Con ended the debriefing, Sophie got up and walked to the front of the room. As she passed Sinner, he stopped her.
“How’s the tattoo healing?” he whispered.
The strain on her face put there by the topic of Cipher faded to pure sunshine.
She pulled up the hem of her top just enough to reveal the design on her ribs.
The small heart that tapered downward and transformed into the Navy anchor.
For Blackout. For Con. For the family she’d found here.
The lines were crisp and sharp against her skin, and the shading and light color he’d laid in were just right for her modest style.
“It’s perfect.” Her eyes shone with emotion she didn’t bother trying to hide.
“I’m glad you like it.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration shattering the moment. He glanced at the screen and felt his jaw lock when he saw the caller ID.
Uncle Leo.
“Excuse me.” He shoved away from the table and stepped out of the room as he took the call. “Bad timing.”
His uncle’s voice filled his ear like he had all the time in the world. “When did the universe ever care about convenience?”
Sinner lengthened his strides to find a place to hold a private conversation.
“What’s up?” he asked under his breath.
“You don’t want to hear I found her mom?”
He went still, every muscle locking down as the words registered. In the midst of the chaos, it had slipped his mind that he asked his uncle to track down Opal’s mom.
“When do we meet?”
“Your terms. I’m sending you an address now. She’s safe, by the way.”
A sigh of relief trickled out of him, and he bowed his head. He opened his mouth to thank his uncle, but the line went dead before he could respond.
He stared at the phone for a beat, his mind already racing. At that moment, Con rounded the corner and slowed his pace when he spotted Sinner lowering the phone from his ear. He probably looked as surprised as he felt.
“What’s that about?” Con approached him in measured steps.
“I’d like to put in an official request for a few days off. You guys can make your own pizza while I’m gone.”
Con snorted. “Take the time you need. Make it a real vacation. But a mini one.”
“Copy. And thanks, Con.” They traded a look of understanding, and affection for his brothers-in-arms flooded in. Even if the guys didn’t tell Sinner in plain words, he knew they all had his six…and appreciated that he had theirs.
Sinner stuck out a fist, and Con bumped knuckles with him. Then Sinner tucked his phone in his pocket and went in search of Kennedy.
He found her in the tech room with Dante. They were talking quietly, their heads bent together in that intimate way that Sinner had always noticed but never truly understood until Opal landed in his life.
They looked up at him. “What’s up, bro?” Dante asked.
“I need a little assistance from Kennedy, if you can spare her.”
Dante’s eyes glinted for a moment as he focused on the woman he loved. “I can never spare her. But I suppose I can let her do what she’s best at—helping people.”
Her smile for her significant other was tender as she moved. “What can I do, Sinner?”
“I need a bag packed for Opal in five.”
Her smile transformed to a quick grin. “On it.”
His own bag was already in the back of the SUV he and Opal had ridden back to base in.
“Thanks, Kennedy. I owe you one.”
“Does that mean I can finally have one of those deep-dish pizzas we all know you’ve been denying us?”
“Definitely. Meet me out front with the bag. I gotta find Opal.”
Even though the base wasn’t small by any means, he found her outside on the patio, arms folded, just staring at the pizza oven. As soon as she heard the door open, she turned.
He caught her gaze and held it. A million things passed between them in that glance. He held out a hand. “Come with me.”
Her face went pale. “You’re taking me to a homeless shelter, aren’t you? I’m fired. I knew it. I knew this was coming. I should have—”
He reached for her, running his hands down her arms. “Sweetheart, stop. You’re not fired. I’m trying to get you transferred. But right now, I have a surprise for you.”
She blinked at him like he’d spoken a foreign language, though he’d bet that she knew as many as he did. “I don’t like surprises.”
He smiled. “Trust me on this one.”
Her jaw worked like she was chewing over arguments but she nodded, just once, a simple gesture of trust that hit him harder than any declaration of love ever could. In their hidden worlds filled with secrets…trust didn’t come easy.