Chapter 53 Jace
JACE
The garage smells like gun oil and cold metal. I’ve been down here for two hours loading gear into the SUVs. Weapons. Ammunition. Medical supplies. Everything we’ll need the moment Aria triggers Parker’s trap.
Everything we’ll need to get Silas back.
My hands move on autopilot. Check the magazine. Load the weapon. Secure it in the tactical bag. Repeat. It’s meditative in a way. Gives my brain something to focus on besides the thousand scenarios running through my head.
Most of them end badly.
I force those thoughts down. Lock them away in the same place I’ve been locking everything since I was a snot-nosed kid being molded into a soldier before I knew what a soldier was.
Silas’s parents taught him violence by throwing him in a pit to fight other kids for money.
Cal’s parents taught him how to deal with violence by teaching him how to fight with his hands and with binary.
Mine taught me discipline and how to shut off emotion because emotion gets people killed.
When that wasn’t enough, they had me enlist with Dominic’s blessing, and I learned that it wasn’t just home that was brutal. The world was fucked up as a whole. Better to shut it off than to let it blind you on a mission.
The last rifle goes in the bag. I zip it closed, check my watch. Three AM. We’ve been at the safe house for six hours. Parker coded for two of those. The rest of us have been preparing and waiting for Aria to make her move.
I wasn’t kidding or appeasing our woman when I said she was right. She was.
She is.
I just hate that I can’t protect her from this.
Our sons could have lost her tonight. Having a father figure is fine, but a mother’s love?
As the saying goes, a mother is the face of God to children.
I’m not religious, but I know if they lost her, their whole world would shatter, and I can’t let that happen.
I know that’s why Silas did what he did. I wish he hadn’t, the twisted fuck, but I know why, and I know why he told me to pull her off of him. If anyone would understand why he did what he did, it’s me.
Still pissed he did it, though.
I head upstairs. The door from the garage opens into a mudroom near the base of the stairs.
When I step into the main cabin, I can see our people scattered throughout the living room.
Rodriguez is on the couch, fully dressed, weapon within reach.
Chen’s in the armchair by the window, head back, snoring softly.
Williams and Petrov claimed the floor, sleeping bags laid out in tactical formation even in rest.
Marcus is awake, sitting against the wall near the front door, cleaning his sidearm. He nods at me. I nod back.
I’m not going to tell him he needs rest most out of all of the team.
The shit head stole a damn jet just to get here because of his clusterfuck ideal of duty.
But he’s not alone. I’ve spent nights without sleep, maybe three or four days just waiting on a curtain to move for that split second of sight to take my shot.
Someone else can tell him to get some shut-eye. I don’t have the energy.
The second floor overlooks the main living area.
High ceilings, exposed beams, open concept that lets me see down into the kitchen from the landing.
Cal’s asleep at the kitchen table, his head on his arms, laptop still open beside him.
He crashed hard about an hour ago, finally gave in to exhaustion after running diagnostics on Parker’s code for the third time.
I move quietly down the hall. Charles is in the master bedroom. I can hear him snoring through the door. Heavy, exhausted sleep. He’ll be useless until morning, but he needed it.
Guest room one: Marcus’s second team. Three guys packed in like sardines, all of them out cold.
Guest room two: Empty. Reserved for me, Cal, and Parker. Well, me and Parker, since Cal posted himself at the monitors.
I open the door carefully. The room is dark, bed made, untouched.
Parker’s not here.
I check the attached bathroom and don’t find her behind the closed door.
Dammit. She’s supposed to be resting. Supposed to be sleeping so she’s sharp when we move.
Why can’t she just…
I head back downstairs, moving quietly so I don’t wake anyone. Cal doesn’t even stir as I pass through the kitchen. His exhaustion is bone-deep, the kind that only comes from pushing yourself past every reasonable limit.
Then I see her through the screen door leading to the back porch. Sitting on the steps, her back to me, staring out at the dark forest beyond the cabin.
I grab two bottles of water from the fridge. Push open the screen door as quietly as I can to join her.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, sitting down beside her on the steps.
“Didn’t try,” she says. Her voice is flat. It’s been either monotone or full of rage since we got here.
I hand her one of the water bottles. She takes it but doesn’t open it. Just holds it in her lap.
For a while, neither of us speaks. Just sit there in the darkness, the forest silent around us except for the occasional rustle of wind through trees.
“You need to rest,” I finally say. “Tomorrow’s going to be hard. When Aria triggers the trap, we’ll need to move fast. You need to be sharp.”
“I know.”
But she doesn’t move. Doesn’t go inside.
“He wouldn’t want you running yourself into the ground for him,” I try.
“Don’t.” Her voice goes hard. “Don’t tell me what Silas would want. Don’t use him as a reason for me to stop feeling this.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“Yes, it is.” She finally looks at me. Her eyes are dry but exhausted.
Red-rimmed. “You’re trying to logic me into taking care of myself.
Trying to make it tactical. But this isn’t tactical, Jace.
This is—” She stops. Looks back at the forest. “I can’t turn it off.
Can’t just go to sleep and pretend I’m not terrified of what she’s doing to him. ”
I don’t have an answer for that. Because she’s right.
“Do you ever just let yourself feel it anymore?” she asks.
“Feel what?”
“Pain. Fear. Grief.” She turns to look at me again. “You’re always so controlled. So measured. You weren’t always like this.”
“Someone has to be,” I say. It comes out more defensive than I intended.
“But why does it have to be you?” She shifts to face me fully now. “You don’t have to be the strong one out of all of us all the time. You don’t have to shoulder it, carry it, and force yourself left then right then left like you’re still in the force. You’re allowed to break, Jace.”
“If I break, people die,” I say flatly. “That’s how it works. Discipline keeps people alive. Control keeps people alive. The moment I let myself feel everything, the moment I stop thinking tactically, someone makes a mistake. Someone gets hurt. Someone—”
“Dies,” she finishes. “I know. You’ve been carrying that since we met. Since you enlisted. Since you became the one everyone depends on to make the hard calls.”
She’s too close to the truth. Too close to the part of me I keep locked down.
“This isn’t about me,” I say.
“Isn’t it?” She leans forward slightly. “You think I don’t see it? The way your hands shake when you think no one’s looking? The way you’ve checked your weapons three times tonight instead of once? You’re terrified, Jace. You’re terrified we’re going to lose him.”
“Of course I’m terrified,” I say, and the words come out harsher than I mean them to. “Silas is my brother. He’s been my brother since we were kids. And I couldn’t stop this. I couldn’t prevent it. I couldn’t keep him safe.”
“Neither could I.”
“That’s different.”
“How?” Her voice rises slightly before she catches herself, brings it back down to a harsh whisper. “How is that different? You think I’m not tearing myself apart? You think I don’t replay every second, every choice, every moment I could have done something different?”
“You were the victim,” I say. “You were taken. Used as bait. That’s not the same as—”
“As what? As being the tactical lead, who should have anticipated this?” She’s angry now, the exhaustion giving way to frustration.
“You think you’re the only one who’s responsible?
I’m the one who fell for the deepfake. I’m the one who left my children to meet a fake video call.
I’m the one who got in that vehicle with Marcus.
I’m the reason Silas is with Aria right now. ”
“That’s not—”
“It is!” She’s whisper-yelling now, trying to keep her voice down so she doesn’t wake the house, but unable to contain the emotion.
“It is my fault, Jace. And you sitting here telling me I need to rest, telling me Silas wouldn’t want this?
That doesn’t help. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s with her because of choices I made. ”
“You didn’t choose this,” I say, my own voice rising to match hers. “Aria did. Ryan did. They built this trap specifically to catch you. To use your love for us against you. That’s not your fault.”
“Then why does it feel like it is?” Her voice breaks. “Why do I feel like I should have known better? Should have been smarter? Should have—”
“Because you love him,” I say. “And love makes us stupid. Makes us vulnerable. Makes us willing to believe things we’d never believe otherwise.”
She goes quiet. Stares at me.
“Is that what you tell yourself?” she asks softly. “When you lock it all down? When you force yourself to be tactical instead of emotional? That love makes you weak?”
“Love makes you compromised,” I correct. “In the field, emotional attachment gets people killed. You hesitate. You make choices based on feeling instead of logic. You—”
“You become human,” Parker interrupts. “You become someone who cares about more than just the mission. Someone who has something to fight for beyond duty.”
“And that’s a liability.”
“Is it?” She shifts closer. “Or is it the only thing that makes any of this worth it?”
I don’t have an answer. Because she’s right and she’s wrong and I don’t know how to reconcile the two.
“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” I say, and I don’t know why I’m saying it now, in this moment, but the words come anyway.
“Since before I understood what love was supposed to be. And I watched you love Silas and Cal the same way you loved me, and I told myself it was enough. That being one of three was better than being nothing to you.”
“You were never nothing to me,” she says.
“Maybe not. But sometimes it feels like I’m the backup plan. The steady one. The one you lean on when the others aren’t there.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” I look at her. “Cal makes you laugh. Helps you build furniture, and teaches you to code, and turns everything into an adventure. Silas makes you feel seen. Like you could rob a bank and he’d ask what you want for dinner, like it’s just another Tuesday.
But me?” I shake my head. “I’m the one who tells you to rest. Who plans the tactics. Who keeps everything running.”
“You’re the one who makes me brave. You’re the one who made me consider the consequences. You’re the one who taught me to be strong and that’swhat me helped keep Liam and Noah safe for the years I was away.”
I’m frozen to the spot, a haze thickening around my peripheral until it’s only her. Just her.
“You’re the one who won’t let me lie to myself.
Who won’t let me make excuses or run away from hard things.
” She pauses. “Cal makes me laugh, yes. Silas makes me feel like all my chaos is normal. But you, Jace? You make me courageous. You make me believe I can do impossible things. That I’m strong enough to face what terrifies me. ”
The words hit harder than I expect. Settle somewhere in my chest that’s been empty for too long.
“You are strong enough,” I say.
“So are you,” she counters. “You’re allowed to be terrified. You’re allowed to be angry that this happened. You’re allowed to want to burn Aria’s entire operation to the ground for taking him.”
“I do want that,” I admit. “I want to make her pay for this in ways that would horrify most people.”
“Good,” Parker says. “Hold onto that. Use it. But don’t use it to lock everything else down. Don’t use it as an excuse to stop feeling.”
We sit in silence for a while. The forest around us is still and quiet. The cabin behind us is full of sleeping soldiers waiting for war.
“I’m terrified we won’t get him back in time,” I finally say. “That Aria will break him. That we’ll rescue a shell of the man we love. Or worse, that he’ll—” I stop. Can’t finish the sentence.
“He won’t,” Parker says firmly. “Silas is stronger than Aria gives him credit for. Stronger than any of us gives him credit for. He’ll survive this.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he has something to survive for.” She looks at me. “He has us. He has Noah and Liam. He has a family that’s coming for him. That’s more than he’s ever had before. More than his parents ever gave him. He won’t give up on that.”
“And if it takes too long? If we can’t trigger the trap fast enough?”
“Then we find another way,” Parker says. “We don’t stop. We don’t give up. We bring him home.”
She says it with such certainty. Such absolute conviction.
I want to believe her.
“What if we fail?” I ask, and the words feel like admitting defeat.
“Then we adapt,” Parker says. “We adjust. We keep moving. But Jace, you can’t carry every possible outcome on your shoulders. You can’t prepare for everything. Sometimes you just have to trust that we’re strong enough to handle whatever comes.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“Neither do I,” she admits. “But maybe we can figure it out together. Stop trying to carry it alone. Lean on each other instead of shouldering everything ourselves and calling it protecting one another.”
I huff a laugh and see the smirk on her face.
I fucking love this woman.
She leans against my shoulder, and I put my arm around her to pull her closer.
“I’m terrified Silas thinks I didn’t fight hard enough,” she whispers. “That he thinks it was easier for me to let him go, even though I was crying.”
“He knows better than that,” I say. “Silas knows you. Knows you would have fought to the death if he’d let you. He made a choice. Don’t take that from him.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“I know.”
We stay like that. Sitting on the back porch steps in the darkness. Two people who’ve spent their whole lives trying to be strong are finally admitting they’re breaking under the weight.
“When this is over,” Parker says, “when we get him back, we’re all taking a vacation. Somewhere with a beach. Somewhere the boys can play, and we can just... exist.”
“That sounds nice,” I say.
“Maybe a trip on Scarlett,” she adds.
I smile at her suggestion. “I like the sound of that.”
“No excuses about work. We’re taking time off.”
“Anything you want, Princess.”