My father watches us with hollow eyes. “The DEA connected us with Aegis. Because of your reputation.” His gaze lands on Damon. “You were supposed to keep her safe.”
His words hit me strangely. Not because of what they mean, but because of how Damon reacts to them. His entire expression darkens with possession. And for oneterrible moment, all I can think about is how safe I feel when he looks at me like that, and how wrong this entire night would be if he didn’t.
My father looks at me again. “Kenzi…”
I can’t describe the emotion that twists together so tightly, I can’t separate them. I shake my head at him. “I can’t even look at you. I don’t even know who you are.”
The words might be cruel, but I don’t care. I spent years defending him, believing him, and trusting him. And now every memory feels poisoned. Lies. All of it is nothing but lies.
I push myself shakily off the stairs. The second I stand, Damon rises, too. I take two steps, and his hand catches my wrist gently. “Trouble…”
“I need a minute.”
His eyes search mine with concern. He clearly doesn’t want to leave me alone after tonight. I don’t want to leave his side, either, but if I stand here a minute longer, everyone is going to see me cry. Damon hesitates before finally loosening his grip and letting his hand fall from my wrist, his thumb brushing lightly through my palm before we lose contact.
“I’ll come find you as soon as I can,” he says softly.
I nod once because I can’t speak anymore, turn, and walk away, before anyone sees the tears finally spill over.
After Mackenzi leaves, the meeting drags on for another couple of hours. Hours of tension, accusations, contingency plans, and enough hostility to choke the air out of the room.
I stand near the fireplace in the ambassador’s office, my arms crossed over my chest, while Gunnar questions him about every contact, every shipment, every threat he’s received over the last decade. Hawk handles the logistics side—safe houses, extraction possibilities, and potential compromised personnel. Jagger mostly leans against the wall, looking bored, but I know him well enough to see the razor focus underneath it.
Nobody trusts the ambassador anymore. Not completely.
Hell, I don’t think he trusts himself.
He sits behind his desk, looking ten years older than he did when he walked through the front door, blood staining the collar of his dress shirt where my fist split open his lip. Part of me feels satisfied every time I look at it. Another part ofme knows I’m lucky Hawk and Jagger pulled me off him when they did, because I would’ve kept going.
There isn’t a man on this earth I wouldn’t end to protect her.
I barely hear most of the conversation, because the entire time, all I can think about is Mackenzi walking away with tears in her eyes. The devastated look on her face keeps replaying in my head.
I’ve seen grief before. I’ve watched grown men crumble after losing teammates in combat. Hell, I’ve held a friend through the worst day of their life.More than one of them.
But what happened to Mackenzi tonight is different. Her entire reality was ripped out from underneath her. In an instant, she learned her mother didn’t die in an accident, and that her father built his career on lies. And somehow, through all of that, she still looked more heartbroken than angry when she walked away.That’swhat gets to me. Not the screaming or the accusations, but the pure fucking hurt in her eyes.
Eventually, Gunnar closes his notebook with a heavy sigh. “We’ll reconvene in the morning.” Nobody argues.We’ve all had more than enough.The ambassador nods stiffly, and I’m at the door before anyone else has even risen from their seat.
“Damon,” Hawk calls. I glance back, and his expression shifts slightly when he sees mine. “You good?”
Not even close, but I nod anyway because I don’t know how to explain the restless panic clawing under my skin.I need to find her. Immediately.The second I step into the hallway, the massive house feels eerily quiet. Too quiet.
I head for the east wing first, straight to her room. It’s immaculate—considering what happened in it a few hours ago—but empty. I check the upstairs library next, but she’s not there, either. Kitchen, then dining room. Every empty room makes my pulse kick a little harder.
By the time I cross toward the west, irritation mixes with the unease curling in my stomach, because she shouldn’t be alone at this moment. Not after last night. Not with the threat level we’re dealing with.
I check the music room and then the west wing. All vacant.
“Mackenzi?” I call up the stairwell, receiving no answer. Mild panic starts creeping in, the kind I usually suppress instantly during missions. But this isn’t a mission anymore. This matters too much.
I move faster through the house, trying to think where she would go if she wanted to disappear.Her favorite reading room overlooking the gardens.I head downstairs right away, cutting through the rear hallway toward the spot I’ve watched her read in for hours. When I also find it empty, I curse under my breath while scrubbing a hand over my jaw.
Then I see her through the patio door, and relief hits me so hard that my knees nearly weaken. She’s sitting at the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water. Sunlight spills golden across the courtyard, catching in the dark waves of her hair and casting shimmering reflections across the water around her legs.
For a moment, I stand inside the doorway watching her. She looks heartbreakingly small out there alone. I push the patio door open and step outside, the warm air wrapping around me. She’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’thear me approach. “You know you aren’t supposed to be out here alone.”
Her shoulders tense slightly before she looks up at me.Fuck.Her eyes are red and swollen. She’s been out here all alone, crying hard.
