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“Can’t talk. Being pursued.” There was a shout, and the line went dead.
It was hours before I would know Niall was alive, and once we got him out, it was days before he spoke.
I’d moved as quickly as I could to reverse the damage that had been done by Benjamin’s betrayal. The mission had been fucking impossible even before we’d found out there was a traitor in our midst. When I sent out an SOS, we received no backup, only blame.
The dream shifted. I wasn’t in my office anymore. I was in a helo, then on the ground staring at the body of one of my men, but I couldn’t get him out, couldn’t do anything except force the man who’d killed him to give me the location of his commander before shooting him through the head. Blood, chaos, and fear pressed in, consuming me until I jolted awake, gasping and shaking.
I leaned forward, bracing myself on my hands, using the feel of the cool tile on the floor to bring me back to the present. I knew I was on my island, in my house, but the images from my dream wouldn’t go away. My stomach churned, and I felt the urge to vomit. I needed to block the dream and the memories out. The nightmare had to end sometime.
It had been a while since I’d had a dream hit me that hard. I had to keep reminding myself I wasn’t there in the desert, unsure if any of my men would get out alive, ready to sacrifice myself if it meant saving even one of them and… No. I wasn’t going to think about it anymore. I couldn’t.
I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled down the hall, bracing myself on the wall to keep from falling several times. I don’t know how I made it down the steps without tumbling to the bottom.
When I reached my office, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the bar, then half walked half crawled back up the steps. If Emilio saw me now, he certainly wouldn’t think I was a superhero.
I’d planned to go to my room, but instead, I sank right back down on the floor in front of Emilio’s door, opened the bottle, and brought it to my lips. I kept drinking until the world around me was fuzzy and my mind was too useless to form coherent thoughts or images.
Then I drank some more until I passed out.
“You could have at least gone to your own room. It’s just down the hall.”
I jerked awake and reached for my gun.
“No, don’t shoot!”
I lowered the weapon when I realized it was Emilio, standing in his doorway, looking extremely annoyed.
It took a moment for his words to register. Why the hell had I felt compelled to sleep outside his door?
Because you’re fucking obsessed.
Because he’s vulnerable.
Then why the fuck are you toying with him?
My head felt like it was going to explode.
Emilio sighed. “I learned some more interesting information. Do you want it now or not?”
I tried to speak, but I had to swallow first to get some moisture into my mouth.
Emilio glared down at the bottle of whiskey next to me. “Are you drunk? Aren’t you supposed to be watching our backs?”
“You said I was a fucking superhero.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I knew my words were slurred. I also knew Emilio was right. I should never have been drinking when I was supposed to be on duty. Sure, I had several security guards stationed around the house, but Emilio was mine to protect.
Emilio was mine. Period.
I shook my head, trying to banish that thought and gasped at the sharp pain. How could I still be drunk and feel so hungover at the same time?
“Why did you kiss me again if it was just going to make you feel like this?”
“No. It made me feel good. So good.”
“Then why did you stop?”
“I had to. I can’t… This can’t happen.”
He studied me for a moment, then sighed. “Because you’re straight?”
I snorted. “Obviously not.”
“At least you admit it. That’s better than most men do.”
“All my teammates are gay. It’s not like I think there’s anything wrong with… with…”
“Fucking a man?”
“Fucking you.” I put my hand out like I was warding him off. “I didn’t mean that. There’s definitely something wrong with fucking you, not because you’re a man but because you’re so much better than me.”
He still looked angry but also confused. “Better? You think I’m better than you?”
“I’m a good protector. Not a good boyfriend.”
“Come on.” Emilio held out his hand. “Let me put you to bed.”
“What time is it?”
Emilio frowned. “I don’t know. Late afternoon?”
“Not bedtime.”
“When was the last time you slept? Really slept?”
I frowned and tried to sort through the fog in my head. “Don’t know.”
