Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ELI
Ilet myself into the safe house, not surprised to see Miranda get up off the sofa, her eyes alert though she wore a T-shirt I knew she favored for sleeping and a pair of ragged sleep pants that made her look more like a teenager than a grown woman.
“Eli.” Her eyes narrowed in concern. “You look terrible.”
“I thought some sleep and a shower would be an improvement,” I said in a low voice, not wanting to wake Wren or Sylvie.
“If this is an improvement, I’d hate to see what you looked like when Maddox dropped you off at the barracks. He said ‘dogshit,’ but I thought he was exaggerating.” Her eyes scanned me, cataloging every injury.
“Is she okay?” I asked, not interested in discussing my crappy appearance.
“Sleeping. We stopped waking her up every few hours. She’s in and out but getting better. Probably better than you at this point.”
“She took a harder hit,” I said.
“True. But she’s been resting.” Miranda crossed her arms over her chest.
“I slept for a while,” I said.
She studied me, then gave a short nod. “Wren and I took your bed. Wren’s sleeping in it. I’m on watch.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m going to Sylvie.”
“Don’t wake her up,” Miranda said, stepping back to let me pass.
“Not going to,” I said, and I didn’t. Toeing off my shoes at the side of the bed, I stripped off my cargoes and thermal and slid under the covers.
I waited, braced for her to wake and tell me to get out.
At first, she didn’t do anything. A few minutes later, she rolled into me, sliding her arm across my chest, her leg hitching over my hip, and let out a soft breath.
I curled my arm around her and kissed the top of her head, prepared to wait to say what I had to say until she woke up.
I drifted off holding her, the smell of her hair chasing out the memory of smoke and fire. Later—late enough that light leaked in from the edges of the shade over the window—Sylvie shifted, and I woke to see her hazel eyes blinking away sleep.
“Eli?”
I reached to push a strand of hair off her cheek. “I met Silas when I was twenty-two,” I said. “Six months after my family died. I’d just made Ranger. I was focused, ambitious, and so fucking lost without them.”
Her eyes softened. “It’s okay. You don’t have to?—”
“I should have given it to you days ago,” I said, rolling onto my side and propping myself up on one elbow so we were face-to-face. I traced a finger across the white bandage on her temple. “If I had, I could have saved you this.”
Sylvie drew in a breath, her eyes searching my face for a long moment. Finally, she wove her fingers through mine and said, “Then tell me.”
I tightened my fingers on hers, a rush of relief sweeping through me. She hadn’t kicked me out. She was willing to listen. I gave her the truth.
“I had a career that I loved. A life that fit me perfectly. And I was alone. I missed them so much. So many times, I picked up the phone and remembered there was no one to call.”
“And Silas helped?” Sylvie asked, her hazel eyes warm with a compassion that made the back of my eyes prickle.
I swallowed, my throat raw but okay enough to talk.
For now. “Not at first. I met him during an assignment. He was a contractor, but he’d been brought in because of past associations.
He took an interest in me, and I liked working with him.
He hadn’t built the team yet, though he had Ryder with him and was already actively recruiting Miranda.
We clicked. Silas and me, and Ryder. When the assignment was over, I was sorry to see them go.
Silas didn’t remind me of my dad; it wasn’t that, but with them, it felt like more than just work.
Like they were a family. Working with Silas was the first time since they died that I felt some sense of hope. ”
“Did you leave the army after that?” Sylvie asked.
“Not then. The job was over. He and Ryder left, and I thought that was that. But later, he reached out. He told me he was building a team and if I was ever ready, he had a place for me. I took him up on it when I was ready to leave the army. He found each of us in different ways. Ryder: he caught picking his pocket when he was a teenager. He found Miranda during an op with the NSA. And Maddox, he first met in a bar fight. Shade, he helped out of a tight spot, and Silas brought Wren on as soon as he saw her in action.”
“Now they’re your family,” Sylvie whispered.
“They’re my family,” I agreed. “And everything has been kind of dysfunctional since Silas took off. I haven’t been doing a great job of dealing, which is why I fucked up with you.
It’s not just that I didn’t tell you about Silas.
None of us is really talking about him. We can’t agree on what’s going on or what we should do about it.
At first, I thought I was keeping things simple by not telling you that Emily Shaw wasn’t a client’s case.
Why would you need to know? We had the same end goal. You didn’t need to know the why.”
“The why is everything,” Sylvie said with a gentle smile.
“I know,” I said, letting out a sigh. “I knew it every time I deflected your questions. I just couldn’t bring myself to let you in that far.” Now that I had, instead of vulnerable, I felt whole.
“How is everything dysfunctional since Silas left?” Sylvie asked, rubbing her thumb over our clasped fingers.
“He turned it all upside down. Before, we worked as a unit, everyone on their different tasks, but together. Silas presented jobs, we decided what was interesting, and we took care of business. He was in charge, but otherwise we were autonomous. Then he told us he was selling the business––us, his team—to Sinclair Security while he took care of some loose ends from before he formed Creed Global, and he disappeared. Just sold the team to Sinclair and left. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s in trouble, but the more I look for him, the more twisted up everything gets. Wren and I think Silas needs our help.”
“What about everyone else?” Sylvie asked.
“Ryder and Shade think we should do what Silas asked—fold into the Sinclair team and carry on until we hear from him or he comes back. Maddox thinks he might be in trouble, but we should hold tight and wait for Silas to tag us into whatever he’s up to.”
“What does Miranda think?” Sylvie raised an eyebrow, and I remembered that she’d spent a lot of time with Miranda and Wren since I’d gotten her out of the hospital.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Officially, she has no opinion.”
“But what do you think?” Sylvie pressed. “I don’t know Miranda that well, but I can’t see her having no opinion about the head of your family dropping off the face of the earth.”
“Miranda is usually hard to rattle,” I said slowly. “She’s cool and collected all the way to the core, but when she’s pissed, she gets very chilly.”
“And when you ask her about Silas?”
“She’s ice-cold. I’ve caught a hint of worry, but mostly I think she’s furious he bailed on us.”
Sylvie’s eyebrows drew together, a line forming between them. “Did you hear what the bomber said? About his targets?”
“No.” I’d heard her screams, and then I’d gone tearing down the stairs into the basement. I’d never erase the sound of Sylvie’s pain. When we caught the bomber, he was going to pay for every hurt he inflicted on her, starting with blowing up her van.
“He said—” Her eyes floated closed as she searched her memory.
“The people running Ghost Trace left more loose ends than they planned. Emily and Silas. He said now that Emily was done and he had me, he only had Silas on his list. He staged those files on the floor at the office park. He was trying to get you to look harder so he could follow you to Silas. He wanted me to tell him what we knew.” She sucked in a breath, then her words tumbled out in a rush.
“I didn’t tell him anything, Eli. I swear. I?—”
“It doesn’t matter, Sylvie. I don’t care what you told him.”
“But I didn’t?—”
“I know.” I untangled my fingers from hers and stroked the groove between her eyebrows, smoothing it out.
“I know you didn’t say anything, because you’re a badass and loyal as hell, even when you’re pissed at me.
But I need you to know that I don’t care.
If it would have saved you a second of pain, I’d want you to tell that bastard everything. ”
“I think he knows more about where Silas is than you do. If you hadn’t stopped to save me?—”
I dropped my finger to her lips, pressing them closed. “I love you, Sylvie.”
Her eyes flared wide, maybe in surprise.
I smiled, a little shocked at how good it felt to say the words to her face. I tried it again. “I love you. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was focused on you not blowing up.”
“That’s fair,” she said, a sweet smile spreading across her face. “I shouldn’t have distracted you, but I wanted to tell you. In case the bomb went off.”
“I wasn’t going to let the bomb go off.” I brushed my mouth across hers.
We stayed there, lips barely touching, breathing together. I thought I could never move and die a happy man.
“What if you lost your shot at finding Silas?”
I pulled back to look at her.
The smile had faded, and the line between her eyebrows started to reappear. I kissed her again and drew back to see that the kiss wasn’t enough to set her mind at ease.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Saving you mattered. If I find Silas, I find Silas. My priorities have shifted. I want to find him. I want to know what’s going on. I want to know why he left and who killed Emily. Who tried to kill you. But Sylvie, I know what’s important now.”
I pressed my lips to hers, sliding my tongue along her lower lip, tasting the sweet flavor of Sylvie Calloway.
“You and me,” I said. “We’ve got something here. And I’m not letting you go, no matter what. Are you in?”
She’d told me she loved me, but I was asking something different. A chill of nerves slid down my spine. She’d had time to think while I was stumbling around out there trying to fix things in all the wrong ways.