Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He can’t hurt me. But Yara… he’s too close. Thebladeis too close. He could plunge it straight into her heart, and fuck, he’s too close for me to get a shot off?—
I glance at Yara again. Her gaze is steady on mine. There’s fear in her eyes, but she’s desperately trying to mask it. Her chin lifts. Her words are as clear as if they were spoken.
I trust you.
Ah, shit.
My heart wrenches.
I can’t let her down.
“Put the knife down,” I command, drawing on decades in the Army to fake a calm I’m not feeling. “This needs to end. Now. Drop the knife and step away from her.”
“No.” Kellogg’s eyes flash with defiance. “I waited too long for this. Years too long. She needs to get what she deserves.”
I take a slow step forward. My aim doesn’t waver. “What she deserves?”
“Yes.” A desperate expression crosses his face. “You should understand, Jensen. Of all people, you should get it. She’s nothing more than a traitor. And traitors need to be punished.”
“How is she a traitor?” I ask carefully. My gaze slides to Yara’s again, just for a moment. She flicks a quick look at the knife still terrifyingly close to her heart. And then to the left, telegraphing her intent.
Admiration slams into me with the force of a tank.
Ah shit. My brave Yara, clearly in so much pain, probably in the middle of one of the worst panic attacks of her life—shit, how badly must this be triggering her—and she’s still thinking about the best way to get out of this. How to helpmeget her out of this.
I give her a minute nod of acknowledgement.Message received.
She could jerk herself away from the knife, giving me an opening to shoot him. But shit, it’s still too damn risky. So many things could go wrong. I’d much rather I had a clear shot, or better yet, talk him into surrendering peacefully.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Kellogg retorts. “How she traded her body for favors over there? How she was living the good life?—”
Yara makes an angry sound. Her face flushes with anger. Her eyes spark fire.
“Traded her body?” I ask with a dangerous edge. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He barks out a harsh laugh. “Of course she wouldn’t tell you. This slut played up to her captors. Gave them whatever they wanted so she’d get special treatment. She didn’t care that the rest of us were being tortured. That we were dragged to that fucking shithole in the desert to dig holes for our own graves. No, this fucking bitch?—”
The tip of the knife presses into the scraps of Yara’s sweater. The fabric turns dark.
My pulse stutters.
“Drop the knife!” I shout. “Drop it! Now!”
“No!” he screams. Spittle flies from his mouth. “She needs to know how it feels!” He takes a deep breath, then continues in a reasoning tone, “Just leave, Jensen. This isn’t about you.”
“The fuck it’s not about me. You have my girlfriend strung up from the ceiling. You hurt her. You cut her. You BROKE HER FINGERS!”
I’ve never been more angry than this. Never. Not even when all the shit went down with Sawyer and Garrett, when I wrongly believed my own teammate was a traitor.
But he wasn’t. And neither is Yara. I wasn’t there, but I didn’t need to be to know the truth of it. Yara would rather die than betray her country. She would do anything—anything—to protect the cause she believes in.
Kellogg blinks at me in surprise. “Yourgirlfriend? You want to be with this traitorous fucking bitch? That makes you no better?—”
With his free hand, he starts to reach behind his back.
Every muscle in my body reacts. Tenses. Prepares to attack.
