Coulter grinned. “We’ll know exactly where he’ll be.”
“That’s the plan, though, I doubt we’ll get much notice, which means, we need to be ready to roll at any given moment.”
“Give me ten minutes in your armory, and I’ll be set.”
Wynn glanced at Neve, then Darwin. “So, you’ll be coming with us, then?”
Coulter frowned. “Is that even a question?” He pinned Neve with a hard stare. “Didn’t you think I’d want to be part of this? To finish what I started because that doesn’t sound like you.”
Neve pursed her lips, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but there. “I never said I didn’t think or want you as part of the team. We just didn’t know your medical status. If Darwin had cleared?—”
“I’m fine. Sure, my ribs still feel like I’m breathing fire, but I’ve completed harder missions in rougher shape. You of all people should know that.”
The air stilled, the usual hum fading into the weight of his words hanging in the air. She took a beat, breathing a few times before tilting her head to the side, staring at him the same way she had for the past week — as if he wasn’t the only one seeing a ghost.
“Something tells me this isn’t about whether we consider you part of the team, but the fact you’re a month late to the party.”
He crossed his arms. “All you had to do was call, and I would have come.”
“You were in the middle of a mission. I couldn’t put that kind of pressure on you.”
“But learning you were dead was kinder? Didn’t fuck with my head in a whole different way? Because I promise you, if it weren’t for my men, I wouldn’t have made it out still breathing.”
Neve’s face paled, and she took what looked like an involuntary step back. “I never wanted to hurt you, Coulter. I’ve told you that. Every day.”
He matched her motion, hands locked at his side, all the pain and hurt barely contained beneath the surface. “I understand you didn’t have many options. I just wish you’d had enough faith in me to give me a choice.”
“Faith? You think I don’t have faith in you?” She leaned forward, tapped his chest with one delicate finger. “I quit the unit for you. For us. Because I thought we were worth the risk. Worth making concessions for. You’re the one who hasn’t stepped up. Who keeps moving the goalposts. It’s been a year, and we’re still orbiting each other like freaking satellites. I wanted more. Iaskedfor more. So, don’t judge me for questioning if this was the line you’d finally cross.”
The truth hit him like the blast had, and he pulled back. “I’ve been deployed.”
“And I’ve been patient.” She snatched her hand away. “I’m not saying it was fair. But knowing you might become a target, that Finch could get to you before you even realized there was a bullseye on your back…” She shook her head. “I did what I thought I could live with.”
“That just wasn’t living with me.”
Coulter cursed inwardly as soon as the words slipped free. Neve inhaled, chin quivering, eyes glassy. She bit her bottom lip, looking vulnerable and lost and so damn beautiful his heart stopped. No erratic rhythm, no increased beats, just a dead weight inside his chest.
She inched back, gaze still locked on him, only he swore she looked through him. Zeroed in on the part still seething.
He forced in a deep breath, hating the way he winced when his ribs burned. “Neve, I didn’t mean…”
“I get that you’re hurting. That you’re angry. That Troy dying kicked you when you were already down.” She shoved the wisps of hair off her face. “I don’t expect your forgiveness. But don’t stand there and act like staying here didn’t gut me. That I haven’t spent the last month mourning you.” She turned, stopped at the threshold, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You’re not the only one who lost something, Coulter.”
Coulter closed his eyes, embracing the bite in his ribs, how his leg burned when he took a step back, braced his ass on the desk.
Her footsteps tapped down the hall, hollow, finite. The rest of Neve’s crew left, vanishing into another part of the bunker, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his damn pride. He stared at the floor, wondering why he had a habit of making situations worse, when a snort sounded off to his left.
He looked up, groaning inwardly when he realized Scout had lingered, her green gaze locked on his, her head tilted to one side as if she thought she could read his mind if she tried hard enough. He leaned back, hoping the desk would hold his weight. “Whatever you’re going to say, Scout, trust me. I’ve already called myself something worse.”
Scout ambled over, kicking at the floor as if it had wronged her in a previous life. “I didn’t stick around to judge you. Or berate you. In the end, this is between you and Neve, and you’ll either work it out, or you won’t. But I thought you should know, she fought for you. From the moment Gus mentioned us staying, fighting Finch, she argued to have you join us. Be our fifth, I guess. But he shot it down. Said it was too risky. That she’d be putting all our lives in the crosshairs, including yours.”
Scout glanced at the empty doorway. “Neve’s one of the strongest people I know. Never gives up. Never thinks about her own safety before the rest of us. You can imagine the position that put her in. Having to choose between keeping everyone else breathing or keeping her love for you alive. It nearly broke her.”
She turned, headed for the door like the rest of her teammates had done. “Knowing her, she’s either in the armory cleaning her rifle again, or on her way to her room so she can throw shit at the wall. In case you had something else to say.”
Coulter watched her leave, her words lingering like a judgment. He sucked in a breath, then struck off, checking the armory before heading for the sleeping wing. Boots tapped in front of him, starting and stopping a few times as he rounded the corner, caught her silhouette near the end of the hallway.
He picked up the pace, ignoring the burn down his thigh, the way the medical tape pulled on his skin as he closed the distance. She paused for a few moments, one hand braced on the wall, head bent low, a couple shuddering breaths drifting down the corridor.
