“Ow.”
“Sorry.” Nic swallowed, and from the corner of his eye he saw Kekoa watching him, his lip twitching. He tried again, being careful not to pull. When he had most of her hair in his hand, he worked the band thing around it, twisting until his arm got tangled and he had to adjust his grip. “Sorry.”
“That’s...okay.”
Was he hurting her? It sounded like he was hurting her. Why didn’t he just ask Kekoa to do it?Stick to your lane, Nic. He tried one more twist and then, holding his breath, let go.
When it stayed together, he smiled.It stayed!
It wasn’t as nice as Lyla could do, and he was certain Kekoa could’ve done it better, but hey, it looked natural—like one of those messy buns. Except it was a messy ponytail.
He stepped back. “How’s that?”
Lyla reached back and ran her fingers over his work. “Good job, Nicolás.”
Man, he was grateful she couldn’t see it. Sitting down, she tried to smile, but it was lopsided as she tried to protect the skin pulling against the abrasion on her cheek. Even lopsided, it still caused his heart to skip a beat.
“I really hope Mason can get us in touch with R.D. Leto,” Lyla said. “I feel like there’s a good chance he might know what was on the flash drive.”
Nic pointed to the copies of the articles written by Leto that they had printed and taped to an acrylic board. “Or maybe we go straight to the sources. It might be easier to get ahold of Roger Colthorpe and find out if he knew Jerry.”
“That sounds like a good angle to look into.” Lyla stood, and for a second Nic thought she looked like she had to steady herself,but then she met his eyes. “I’m going to make myself a coffee. Do you guys want anything?”
Nic said no and Kekoa shook his head.
“See, brah,” Kekoa said when Lyla disappeared down the hall. “I don’t think Lyla would’ve given in that easily to me or Jack or Walsh. If you leave—”
“You’re leaving?”
Nic whipped his head around, sending his brain rattling against his skull. He focused on Lyla and not the aching pain. “Um, yeah, it’s an assignment—”
“I’m going to check on that thing we were looking into on Leto.” Kekoa popped to his feet and backstepped to his office. He sent Nic an apologetic grimace before closing the door.
“What’s the assignment?”
“There have been some bombings in Syria. They need someone familiar with the type of IED used and asked if I’d be willing to go.”
“Oh.” Lyla blinked. “Okay. It’s temporary, then.”
“That mission is, but I’m considering going contract.” Nic remained still. “Work with explosive teams around the world.”
Lyla’s face paled. “You’re leaving SNAP? For good?” She started to shake her head but winced and stopped. “I don’t understand. Does Walsh know you want to leave?” Her eyes rounded on him. “Wait, Kekoa knows. Does Jack?”
Nic felt sick to his stomach. “I wanted to be sure about my decision before I told you.”
“But everyone else knows?” She rubbed her head and winced when her fingers hit a sore spot. “And you’ve made your decision?”
He took a step toward her, and she backed up a step. “About Syria, I think so, yes. I’m just not sure about what happens after.”
Lyla bit the inside of her lip, eyes shining. She folded her armsover her chest. “Okay, so, um...” She sniffled. “When do you leave?”
“In about five weeks.”
She dropped her arms to her sides, and her gaze sharpened on him. “Fine.” Her posture straightened. “That means I have five weeks to convince you you’re coming back to SNAP after Syria.”
21
Tom removed his glasses, set them on his desk, and rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion weighed on him, but not nearly as heavily as the anguish when he got the call from Jack about the attack on Lyla and Nic. He was beyond grateful they were okay, but his stomach still hadn’t settled and now...he exhaled slowly.
