Chapter 11
Brooke
The view from the balcony was stunning, the moonlight silvering the Bay of Naples while distant city lights twinkled along the shoreline.
I leaned against the railing, grateful for a moment of solitude after the chaotic day.
The Mediterranean breeze carried a hint of salt from the bay, a simple reminder of where I was.
I’d traveled so much over the past three years that I needed to grab onto whatever sensory details I could find to ground myself.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see Percival’s name on the display.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Just confirming tomorrow’s appointment,” he said without preamble. “Meet’s still on for ten thirty at the university lab?”
“Yeah, Dr. Norris is expecting us. I’ll need about an hour to go over the specifications for the suit treatments with him,” I said, watching a small ferry cut across the bay. “He understands I’ll be leaving the suits with his team to complete the work.”
“How’s the Reynolds crew treating you?” His voice carried a hint of concern.
I hesitated. Rather than confess the first thing on my brain—how much Rav’s proximity was affecting me—I said, “Scarlett thinks I need an escort tomorrow. It’ll be either Malcolm or Rav, depending on their meeting with Noah.”
“That’s unnecessary. I’m meeting you there.”
“That’s what I told them.” Maybe I’d press Scarlett on that in the morning.
He paused. “How’s Rav?”
The hallway encounter flashed through my mind—his hands gripping my arms, our bodies inches apart, the overwhelming sense of recognition in his eyes. How many times had we stood like that, marveling at what had been evolving between us?
My heart accelerated.
Fate wasn’t fair.
“We barely spoke,” I lied. “He’s busy making security arrangements.”
“Right.” Percival didn’t sound convinced. “I’ll meet you at the lab regardless of who they send.”
“I’ll be there.”
After ending the call, I lingered a moment longer, absorbing the peaceful view. Scarlett was still downstairs coordinating with the team, and I’d needed a moment away.
The scars along my neck and chest tingled, a sensation that sometimes surfaced when I was anxious. Six years of hiding them, of relearning how to exist in my damaged body, and they still felt like a foreign presence—a constant reminder of what I’d lost.
With a resigned sigh, I turned back into the bedroom. The furniture was elegant and antique. A dresser sat next to a tall wardrobe, a small desk with an antique chair, and a single king-sized bed dominated the room. The decorative pillows and a plush duvet called to me.
I needed a nap. But first, I had to unpack.
The first thing I pulled from my bag was my oversized sleep shirt—a faded Arctic Monkeys concert tee from 2013. I held it up, anxiety swirling through me. The neckline was too low to hide my scars, especially with Scarlett so close. I’d have to change in the bathroom, keep my hair down…
No. What was the point in hiding?
Scarlett would see eventually. Better to get it over with, rip off the bandage rather than prolong the inevitable. Maybe she’d even choose to sleep somewhere else and give me the entire bed.
There was a light knock before the door opened, and Scarlett entered with a grace that made me intensely self-conscious.
Even after a long travel day, she looked impeccable—her chestnut hair perfectly styled, her outfit unwrinkled.
She carried herself with the kind of easy confidence that beautiful women often possessed, the kind I’d lost forever the moment Owen had recoiled from me.
“The view is spectacular,” she said, nodding toward the balcony doors.
“It is.” I continued transferring clothes into the dresser as she set her bag on the bed. “I hope you don’t mind sharing. I can take the floor if—”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She waved a dismissive hand and carried a few outfits to the wardrobe. “We’re adults. Besides, the floor would wreck your back.”
I nodded while pulling out my toiletry bag. “Why is everyone so afraid of you being near Noah?”
“He’s tried recruiting me a few times.” She paused before taking the next item from her suitcase. “And he’s kidnapped a few of us in the past.”
“A few?” I thought back to the meetings at Reynolds yesterday, and something Malcolm had said about someone being taken in Monaco. But that hadn’t been one of their teammates, had it?
“Emmett, Malcolm, a vault designer working with us, and then my best friend, Jenn.” She counted them off on her fingers. “He’s been trying to lure me to Fenix since we found out he’d faked his death.”
“Sounds like a red-flag kind of guy.”
“You think?” She let out a small laugh. “And yet, here we are, planning to meet him tomorrow morning.”
“You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.”
“Probably both.” She pulled a silk pajama set from her bag. “Rav says I’m stubborn.”
The mention of his name caused my stomach to clench. “He seems protective of you.”
“He’s always been a protective guy, fiercely loyal to those he cares about,” she said, her voice softening. “We’ve known each other since we were twelve.”
“I didn’t realize that.” The revelation shifted something in my understanding of their relationship.
“He’s one of my best friends,” she said simply. “Has been for almost twenty years.”
I turned away, suddenly needing to busy my hands. I pulled my sleep shirt from the bag and gathered my toiletries. “I’m going to change and wash up.”
“Smart thinking. It’s still early in Halifax, so Brie’s team is running through some analysis with Drew, but things are winding down, so the bathrooms will be in high demand soon.”
When I returned fifteen minutes later, wearing my concert tee, Scarlett was sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling through her phone. She glanced up as I entered.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” I said, setting my toiletry bag back on the dresser.
“Thanks.” She stood, gathering her own supplies. At the door, she paused. “I’m sure you’d rather be with your team, but this is the smart call.”
“I know.”
“And since we’ll be rooming together…” She blinked a few times, as though trying to choose the right words. “We can either pretend I know nothing about you, or we can both admit Rav’s told me about you.”
I stiffened, my hand automatically rising toward my neck before I forced it back down. When had Rav discussed me with her? How much had he told her? “I don’t like pretending.”
“Good.” She tapped the side of her neck. “Rav told me you’d been injured in the Middle East. Is that what that is?”
“Yes,” I said cautiously. “Chemical burns.”
“Same event as the one that scarred Percival’s arm?”
“We were searching for chemical weapons smuggled from Syria into Afghanistan.” Having the truth out there was a relief. “Needless to say, we had an incident when we discovered them.”
“Was it Greek Fire?”
“No, but similar enough to guess how Greek Fire might feel if it splashed on you.”
“That’s why you’re so passionate about this mission.”
It wasn’t a question, but I responded anyway. “This is what I’m good at. I’ve been chasing down weapons like this since I was working on my PhD.”
“That takes a lot of courage,” she said quietly, “to keep doing this work after experiencing it firsthand.”
“Not courage.” I wouldn’t let my fingers play with my neck, so let my left arm shift instead, the scars on my inner arm rubbing against the scars on my torso through the oversized T-shirt.
“It’s a necessity. I understand what these chemicals can do to a human body, so I can’t walk away and let it happen to someone else. Not if I can stop it.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Rav spoke fondly about you, the few times we talked.”
“I’m surprised.” Shut up, Brooke. You don’t know this woman. You don’t owe her anything. But the bitterness jumped out of me anyway. “He never even returned my calls.”
She was quiet for a beat. Had he told her about the phone call?
“I should get ready for bed.” With a quick smile, she left.
Had anything romantic ever happened between the two of them? Was that why he didn’t call me back? Had they been a thing? Was that why she didn’t say anything about the phone call?
Just drop it, Brooke.
I finished unpacking and set up my laptop at the small desk.
Reviewing the lab specifications for the fifteenth time wouldn’t change anything, but there was nothing worse than being unprepared.
Not that the precautions would matter if we couldn’t figure out where Fenix was going to deploy the weapon.
Brie’s analysis hadn’t provided any insights yet, but if we were lucky, that’s what they’d learn from Noah in the morning.
Half an hour later, Scarlett returned in her silk pajamas, hair pulled up, and without her makeup. She set her things on the dresser and tapped her finger a few times. “I shouldn’t say this, but…”
I closed the laptop and swiveled in the seat.
“Rav was different after his injury,” she said carefully. “When he came back, he wasn’t the same person who’d left. It took him a long time to find his way back to himself.”
I didn’t want her pity, and I certainly didn’t want to discuss Rav. “It was a lifetime ago.”
“I mean…” Without the makeup and fashionable clothes, she seemed more authentic, less as if she were measuring everything she said and did. “I think he’s still looking for his old self. He’s still in there, and maybe…”
Maybe what?
She gave a little laugh and waved her hands. “Ignore me. It’s been a long day, and it’s his story to tell.”
“Of course.” I stood and crossed to the bed, yawning.
A week ago, I’d flown from Warsaw to the Bahamas after Claire alerted us that Rav and his team were poking around Mnemis.
Now, I was getting into bed with his teammate.
More words fell out of my mouth that should have stayed in my head.
“Not like he’ll tell me, though. He won’t even look at me. ”
She hummed in assent as she slid into the bed from her side. “A lot can change in a week.”