Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE_
DECAF
My pleas go unnoticed. My objections echo in the wind.
It’s like I’m standing on the outside, looking in, not being able to contribute as I watch a group of grown-ass men pass one brain cell back and forth between them as each new idea gets added to an already fucked-up plan.
There are six of them. Trav, Rogue, Saint, Iris, Scout, and Haz. Apparently, their ears are purely for decoration. At least when it comes to me.
Despite my protests, here we are, planning our escapes—the last of those in Mike Bravo to get out—and they want to cross the border into Canada on our real-life passports. Because apparently, the new plan is to be taken out and join the afterlife together.
They say I’m being dramatic, but no. I’m not. I’m being realistic.
If this plan works? Yes, it’s the best outcome for all of us. If it doesn’t? There’s no room for error. It’s success or death.
“Is he caffeinated?” an annoying voice asks behind me. “He doesn’t look caffeinated. I think the vein in his neck has moved to the back of his head and is about to explode from rage.”
I throw my middle finger up at Iris without turning around to look. Trav has us holed up in a hotel, for which he paid in cash and even rented out their little conference space for us to get the logistics in order and supplies acquired.
“Careful,” Haz says next to me. “He’s been murderous for days, and I haven’t let him kill anyone yet.”
“Yet?” Iris takes the seat next to Haz. “Does that mean you’d let him kill me? But also, since when did you become in charge of his allowed-to-kill list?”
There’s an edge in his tone, almost a taunt. Like Scout has told them about Haz and me but also said to pretend not to know. Or maybe I’m being paranoid.
“Pretty much as soon as we started sleeping together,” Haz says. Like it’s nothing.
Like this isn’t going to—
Yup, on cue, the whole room falls silent.
I mutter out the side of my mouth, “Weren’t we going to talk about telling them all before doing it?”
“I figured it would be better putting it out in the open so you’re not worried about Scout telling everyone or them figuring it out. Or suspect every single sentence out of Iris’s mouth is innuendo.”
I scowl because how does he know me so well already?
“You’re sleeping together?” Trav asks.
“Are you really shocked?” Iris asks. “They’ve been alone in a cabin—”
Scout raises his hand. “I’d like to point out not alone, and having to put up with them snipping at each other, which turned out to be foreplay, was not fucking fun.”
“I’m just saying,” Iris continues, “that with the amount of energy between the two of them, it was either going to end in fucking or murder. They’re both still alive, so …”
“Iris is the Sherlock Holmes of sex,” Saint says. “Deduces the odds of people hooking up. He has an uncanny knack of being correct too.”
“I’m a dick whisperer,” Iris says.
“Erase whisperer from that sentence, and it’ll be more accurate,” I grumble.
Haz smiles over at me.
“This is going to change some things,” Trav says and turns back to the basic whiteboard. He takes Haz off my team and puts him on his.
I stand so swiftly, the chair topples over behind me. “We’re not separating on this. We can’t.”
“You know the rules. Everyone knows the goddamn rules, but because of these two knuckleheads”—he points to Iris and Saint—“everyone thinks it’s suddenly okay to sleep with marks, coworkers—”
“DEA agents,” Iris points out, which earns a glare from Trav and a smirk from Rogue.
“My point,” Trav says through gritted teeth, “is Iris and Saint don’t go on missions together, and neither will you two.
Because when sex and emotions get involved, you’re putting all of our lives in danger.
I’m not going to have this blow up in our faces and watch as you two kill each other trying to save the other’s life. ”
“That’s my duty to him,” I snap. “Not as someone who’s sleeping with him but because I fucking promised.” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. Because I can’t fail again.
Haz approaches and grips my shoulder tight with one hand and lays his other on my stomach.
“You also tried to make me promise that I would move on without you if something like that happened. So maybe it’s better if we are split up because then we won’t be so distracted and hell-bent on saving the other.
We’ll be fighting to get through to the other side so we can meet up again. ”
I shake my head, over and over. I can’t let this happen. “No. We’re not doing that.”
Haz gently pushes me backward until we’re in the corner of the room and away from the others. His voice is low, but he’s so close his forehead is against mine, so he doesn’t need to speak loudly. “Do you remember what I said when you told me to leave you and I said I couldn’t do it?”
“You eventually agreed.”
I can’t see his smile being this close to him, but I can sense it. “Did I, though? Or did I change the subject?”
My growl is loud when I realize he’s right.
“Hey,” he says soothingly. “If you go in group one and I go in group two and anything does happen to either of us, then we can’t hold ourselves accountable for it. It’s the only way we come out of this without the resentment and grief we’ve held on to for far too long.”
I hate that he makes a good point. At least when it comes to him.
But for me, it’s not that simple. “If anything happens to you, I will never forgive myself. Never.” Life wouldn’t be worth living, and not because I’d worry about never finding a partner like him again, but because I can’t fail him too. I just can’t.
“And I will never forgive myself if you lose your life or anyone else on this team because you’re too busy worrying about me to do your mission. If we pull this off, we get to start fresh. New life, new identities. We can leave my father behind and build something between us. You and me.”
It sounds too good to be true, and you know what they say: if something’s too good to be true, it probably is. I can’t go into this hoping for a future that most likely won’t happen, but I also can’t go into it with a defeatist attitude.
I fucking hate this, but when Haz pulls back and meets my eye, I know it’s something he needs. Fulfilling his needs has become my purpose. My reason for living.
In spite of my intense objection to this idea, not only of splitting up but this whole fucking plan, I find myself relenting. Reluctantly. “If this is what you need …” Even then, I can’t say the actual words.
Haz cups my cheeks. “We’re both going to be fine.”
I’m not as convinced as he is, but between Haz’s stubborn streak and Trav’s rules, plus no one paying attention to any of my protests against this plan, I know I need to change tactics.
Make contingencies. Plans upon plans upon plans so I can abort at any stage and get Hazard and me out of there.
Not that there’s much room to work with when the whole plan is to lure those chasing us out in the open and literally let them get close enough to take us out.
If we are going to do this, though, I’m going to need full use of my fucking arms.
Haz turns to the others. “It’s okay. I can go in group two.”
I approach Scout. “I need something from you.” I lift my cast. “I need this off. Now.”
Instead of telling me another week is what was recommended, he nods because he understands. “I’ll come by your room tonight.”
One obstacle down, only a gajillion to go.