NINE
Rivers heard the low murmur of voices coming from the common room and slowed his steps as he passed the doorway. Most of the team was gathered there, and he braced his hand on the cool concrete wall, sweeping the room for Caryssa.
He located her sitting near the wall, curled into one of the mismatched armchairs, an old sixties-era magazine from the Montclair ski resort above the base in her lap. She didn’t look up at him, and he watched her for a heartbeat, turning the page, soft and yellowed from age.
How many times had he watched her this way…back then? Just seeing her here in his space made warmth bloom in his chest.
Then he heard the sniffle.
His head swung toward the cluster of sofas across the room. Jolie, Monk, Rome and Stina all gathered close. Jolie was tucked close against her significant other’s side, staring down at her hands twisted in her lap.
Her low, unsteady voice cut through the quiet, and Rivers’s feet carried him closer before he decided to move. He’d failed her and Stina once already. If he could help now, he would, even if all he could offer was a listening ear.
As he neared, he caught her words. “I was on a group call with my siblings. They asked if I was okay…after the kidnapping.”
Rivers’s jaw locked.
“My brothers wanted details. I think they feel guilty on some level for not being there, you know?” She looked up at Stina, who nodded. Then she went on, “My sister just kept asking if I was sure I was fine, as if she didn’t believe me the first four times I said it.”
Archer tightened his arm around her, bringing her closer to his side. “You don’t have to tell them anything you don’t feel up to saying.”
“I know. I just—” She let out a shaky breath. “Talking to them brought it close to the surface again…and I dreamed about it last night. The SUV. The man’s voice.” She stopped herself and shook her head hard as if she could dislodge the memory.
And Christ, what Rivers wouldn’t give to take the memories from them forever. He’d gladly shoulder the weight if it meant they could be free of nightmares and the emotional fallout.
Jolie drew in a shaky breath. “I haven’t gotten that far in my psychology degree yet, but I found out on my own that talking about it brings back the nightmares.”
Stina sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes downcast as she listened. From her pose, it was apparent she was reliving it right alongside her friend.
“It was terrifying.” Jolie shook her head. “But I’ve lived through worse. I lost my parents young. Raised my siblings without any skills. We barely scraped by. I know how to live with fear. I just didn’t think I’d have to learn about a different kind of fear.”
Monk cradled her head in one big hand against his chest. “I know.”
He knew fear more than any of them. He earned his nickname of Monk because he would spend hours meditating to deal with being held captive by Cipher before he came to Blackout.
Rivers stood frozen, chest aching with the heaviness of what these women had gone through—were still going through.
Because he was in the hospital, he hadn’t been here to witness the aftermath.
By the time he returned, no one was talking about the incident, so he hadn’t known about the ache in Jolie’s voice.
Hadn’t understood, until right now, how deep this ran in Stina.
The women were the real heroes in all of it. He’d taken a bullet, but they marched on with a brave face, distracting themselves with college courses, crafts and projects around the base that drove Cannon up a wall. He had a scar to show what happened to him…but their scars were inside.
At Jolie’s fresh sniffle, Caryssa got up from the armchair and crossed the space to sit closer to Jolie and Stina in a silent offer of support.
Rivers had heard that Caryssa asked both women to sit down with her and go over what happened at Antonio’s. Apparently, they’d agreed. He didn’t know what they’d told her, only that she was working the connection between the restaurant and Bill Kohler.
But right now, she wasn’t approaching them as an FBI analyst. She was going to two women who were hurting.
The room fell silent around them, the low conversation quieted, and Rorke even switched off the TV as they all processed the heaviness of the moment.
Rivers found Rome’s stare on him and saw the same helplessness reflected there. Maybe the rest of the guys had heard this all before, but judging from their expressions, he didn’t think so.
He needed to do something. Fix something.
A sudden idea sprang to mind. “We should run self-defense training for the ladies. And all of us could use a refresher. It’s been months since we ran drills.”
Jolie looked up, startled out of her own thoughts.
“It’s a practical skill to have.” He swept a look around the group, lingering a beat longer on Caryssa. “Every person on this base should be sharp.”
After a beat of silence, Younger pushed to his feet. “Why not right now?”
Energy built in the room fast, part genuine enthusiasm for physical activity and part welcome relief at having a method to tackle the cloud that settled over all of them.
Monk squeezed Jolie’s shoulder. “What do you think?”
She nodded. “Yes. We need this. Don’t we, Stina?”
Stina’s eyes were still haunted when she glanced up, but she nodded. “Definitely.”
Rome stood. “Gym. Drag out the mats.”
In loose clusters they migrated toward the gym. Rivers hung at the back, watching the sway of Caryssa’s ponytail and the straightness of her spine as she walked a few paces in front of him.
He thought of the way she’d swept Townie’s leg that first day in the dining room and sent him sprawling on his ass. Being in the FBI, she had training, but as he’d said, they could all use a refresher on technique.
By the time they reached the gym, the mood of the base had shifted. Rome and Monk dragged out the mats and Younger and O squared off, insulting each other’s instruction skills.
Best of all, Jolie issued a real laugh, and Stina wore a distracted smile while she stared at her significant other as Rome performed some pushups to warm up.
He leaped to his feet and eyed her the same private way she was eyeing him. “Ready for this?”
“I just did my nails.” She held out her hands in front of her to show off the pink tips.
“Should have thought of that before agreeing to live with a bunch of Navy SEALs,” Younger called over his shoulder.
“I didn’t agree to anything. I was kidnapped into this lifestyle.”
Everyone laughed, but Rivers only noticed Caryssa, and how the amusement glittered in her beautiful eyes.
She hung back near the wall, arms folded loosely over her chest, watching the impromptu class with a stillness that reminded him once again of her sweeping Townie’s leg out from under him without a flicker of hesitation.
“All right,” Rome called, clapping his hands once to draw the group’s attention.
“Basics first. Someone grabs your wrist”—he demonstrated on Monk, who played along with an exaggerated helplessness that made Jolie giggle behind her hand—“you don’t pull straight back.
You rotate. Break the grip at the thumb where it’s weakest.”
Rivers drifted close to Caryssa. She gave him a disinterested glance before returning her attention to the class. “You already know this,” he said.
“I know all of it. But it was a good idea to teach Jolie and Stina.” She met his gaze for a heartbeat, the curve of her lips deepening just enough to tell him the smile was meant for him.
Damn, he’d missed this. Being the reason Caryssa smiled.
He was still smiling at that when Rome called for a volunteer, and Rivers stepped forward with a swagger that had everyone laughing.
* * * * *
Caryssa stood at the edge of the mats, arms banded over her breasts to conceal the tight pinch of her nipples. Watching Reid in action was…well, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
She was aware of something else too.
Nobody was watching her.
Not in the careful way they had when she first arrived. For days, she’d caught conversations stopping when she entered a room, screens angled away from her, information passed between team members that never quite made it to the FBI analyst standing three feet away.
She understood why. Blackout didn’t know where the leaks were coming from, and she represented one of the agencies they no longer trusted.
But somewhere along the way, that had started to change.
They didn’t lower their voices every single time she approached now. O sometimes left his laptop open when she walked past. Rorke still gave her shit, but at least these days it seemed to be because he was Rorke and not because the letters FBI followed her name.
And here she stood in the middle of their training session with no one questioning whether she belonged.
The realization warmed a place inside her she hadn’t known was cold.
Then her attention drifted back to Reid, and warmth became something else entirely.
For a moment, she drowned in lurid images of moving with him, mouths colliding as their bodies said all the things neither of them dared to speak aloud.
Shaking herself, she redirected her attention to the mat. Monk was walking Jolie through the maneuver of breaking an attacker’s hold in slow motion while Rome played the grabber with a smile she knew was meant to keep it lighthearted and playful as well as instructive.
After what Jolie had shared about the kidnapping, Caryssa understood why the skill mattered. But even the best training only took a person so far. Reid had been trained for combat, and he’d still been brutally shot.
If there was one lesson worth learning, it was never to underestimate the enemy.
“Any pointers for Stina?” Younger called out. “She’s fighting the rotation.”
Caryssa started across the mat, instinct and some swelling feeling of sisterhood pulling her toward her new friend.