Chapter 10 #2
The familiar route between residential and communal areas should feel safe by now.
I've walked it dozens of times since we arrived.
But today, something shifts. Maybe it's the conversation with Colton still replaying in my head.
Maybe it's the weight of Lucas's questions about whether we'll ever go home.
Maybe it's just living inside this mountain finally catching up.
The panic starts small. A tightness in my chest. Awareness of how much rock sits above my head.
Then it crescendos.
Steel corridors morph into stucco walls. Overhead lights become sunlight streaming through windows I can't reach. The hum of ventilation becomes armed guards talking in Spanish outside locked doors.
Mateo's compound. I'm back there, and there's no way out, and Lucas is somewhere crying and I can't reach him because the doors are locked and—
My back hits the corridor wall. I slide down, pulling my knees to my chest, trying to remember the breathing exercises. Four counts in. Hold. Four counts out.
It's not working. The steel presses closer and the air keeps thinning and I'm going to die here, trapped inside this mountain while the Committee hunts my son and—
"Rachel." Colton's voice cuts through the panic. "Rachel, look at me."
He's crouched in front of me, hands visible, eyes locked on mine.
"You're in Echo Base," he says steadily. "You're safe. Lucas is asleep in your quarters. The Committee can't reach you here."
"Can't breathe." Getting the words out takes everything I have.
"I know. But you can breathe. You're breathing right now." His hand moves slowly before resting gently on my knee. "Feel my hand. That's real. This corridor is real. Mateo's compound is thousands of miles away, and he's dead."
"Dead." I latch onto that word like a lifeline. "He's dead."
"Yeah. Hawthorne made sure of that. You're safe."
The breathing exercises start working. Four counts in. Hold. Four counts out. My chest loosens slightly.
Colton stays crouched in front of me, hand steady on my knee, waiting while I piece myself back together.
"I'm sorry," I manage finally. "I don't know what triggered it."
"You don't apologize for panic attacks." His voice carries absolute certainty. "Trauma doesn't follow logic."
"How do you know?"
"Because I get them too." The admission comes quietly. "Not as often now, but they still happen. Usually when I'm alone in tight spaces or when something reminds me of missions that went wrong."
I've never heard him talk about his own struggles. "What do you do?"
"Ground myself. Focus on what's real instead of what my brain is telling me." His thumb moves in small circles on my knee. "Usually helps to have someone talk me through it."
We sit in silence for several minutes. My breathing evens out. The panic recedes.
"I hate that he still has this power over me," I say quietly. "Mateo's been dead for years, but I'm still letting him control me."
"That's not how trauma works." Colton shifts to sit beside me, back against the wall. "He doesn't have power over you. Your brain is trying to protect you from threats it perceives based on past experience."
"How do you know so much about this?"
"Mandatory psych evals after missions. Plus Kane made us all talk to therapists after some of the harder operations." His mouth quirks slightly. "Turns out operators aren't immune to psychological damage."
"Revolutionary concept."
"Yeah, well, Kane's nothing if not practical." Colton's hand is still on my knee. "You want to talk about it? The compound?"
Every instinct screams to deflect, to change the subject. But Colton just shared something vulnerable with me. And maybe talking about it will make the walls feel less like a prison.
"I never told you the whole story," I hear myself say. "About what happened in Mexico."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." Surprising myself with how true that is. "I went there after you left. Humanitarian aid work seemed like the perfect escape. I met Mateo at a clinic. He seemed normal. Charming. Helpful."
Colton's hand tightens slightly on my knee, but he doesn't interrupt.
"I didn't know he was cartel until I moved in with him. By then, I was pregnant and trapped." The words come easier now. "Lucas was born in that compound. I spent over a year watching armed guards patrol outside my windows, knowing I was property."
"Rachel—"
"The worst part wasn't the guards or the locked doors.
" Meeting his eyes. "The worst part was sharing his bed.
Letting him touch me because refusing meant he'd hurt Lucas.
Knowing my son was growing up in that environment, learning violence and fear as normal, while I played the role of willing partner to keep us both alive. "
"But you got out."
"Micah got us out. His CIA team breached the compound and killed everyone inside, including Mateo.
" I’m remembering that night with crystal clarity.
"I was hiding in a bathroom with Lucas while gunfire happened all around us.
Micah talked me into opening the door. Then he led us through a house full of bodies and put us on a helicopter to freedom. "
Colton's jaw works. "I should have been there. Should have protected you before any of that happened."
"You didn't know. At the start I didn’t know what Mateo really was."
"But I knew I loved you, and I walked away anyway." His voice goes rough. "I convinced myself leaving was protecting you. That an operator like me would only bring danger into your life. Turns out I was dead wrong."
"Why did you leave?" The question I've been carrying for years finally finds voice. "Really leave. Not the bullshit excuse in your note."
Colton leans his head back against the wall. "I was a coward. Thought I was doing you a favor by walking away before I dragged you into my mess. Turns out I just left you vulnerable to a different kind of monster."
"I made my own choices."
"Yeah. And I should have been there to help you make better ones." He looks at me. "I can't fix the past. But I'm here now."
"For how long?"
"As long as you'll let me be."
I study his face, looking for the lie. Finding only exhaustion and something that might be hope. "Lucas asks about you constantly. Wants to know if you're staying."
"What do you tell him?"
"That I don't know." I stand, needing distance. "Because I don't. Dylan has Reagan. Kane has someone. Mercer too. They make it work. But you?" I shake my head. "You left once because it got hard. What's different now?"
"Everything." He stands but doesn't move closer. "I'm different. You're different. And that kid in there deserves better than a man who runs when things get complicated."
"So don't run."
"I won't."
The certainty in his voice does something to my resolve. Makes me want to believe him despite every warning screaming not to.
My phone pulses. Tommy's message cuts through the moment.
Kessler just activated a Phoenix-based asset network. They're sweeping the metro area systematically. Kane needs you both in the war room. Now. - Tommy
Colton reads the message over my shoulder. Every muscle in his body shifts into tactical mode.
"Let's go," he says.
I follow him through the corridors toward the war room, watching him transform into the operator Kane needs. This is what loving him means. Missions that pull him into danger. Threats that demand everything he has.
But he's also the man who just talked me through a panic attack and promised not to run.
Time to find out if actions match words.