Page 83

Montana

Leg propped on a pillow, forgotten beer in his hand, Sean stared into the blazing fire before him. Hank lay on the floor beside him and, every now and then, would raise his head and look up at him, his soulful dark brown eyes filled with love and devotion. Sean rubbed his thick fur, taking comfort from his warm, loyal presence, but his mind continued to whirl with agony.

How many regrets could a man carry without exploding? How many chances did a man get to see heaven before he was denied access forever? How many times would he screw up before somebody just ended him? He was in a hell of his own making, and he wasn’t sure he’d be allowed out in this lifetime.

Serena was in another kind of hell, still being held in that monstrosity of a compound by Kingsley and his minions. OZ knew where she was. They had the personnel, a plan in place, and a whole arsenal of weapons at the ready. But she had told them to wait. She was still gathering intel, and since she was calling the shots, that’s what they would do.

While they waited, Sean had nothing to do but obsess about regrets and all the ways he’d messed up his life—and his marriage. His body was close to a hundred percent again. Only residual leg pain remained when he overdid his workouts, but nothing he couldn’t live with. It was the heaviness of his heart that pained him the most.

He could see everything clearly now. How he’d gone wrong, what he should have done versus what he’d actually done. The wrong turns… He wiped a callused hand down his face, not surprised to find his face was damp.

When he’d lost his baby girl—when they had taken Emma away—he had shut down all emotion and fought like a madman to get her back. When he had failed, he hadn’t stopped to mourn the loss. Then, when he’d learned she had died, he had barely stopped to take it in and accept that she was no longer in the world. That the light that had been his Emma had been snuffed out for good. He had forged through the pain, squashing it down until he no longer gave it thought. His eyes stayed focused on the horizon, not what lay behind him.

He could see now why his marriage to Teresa had been such a disaster. Infidelity was an anathema to him, but looking back, he could understand why she’d cheated. He had been a shitty husband.

After the divorce, he had focused solely on his career, from active service to black ops. The more dangerous, the better. He’d lived on the edge, caring little if he died in the next second. He had been a stone-cold robot. Nothing and no one had mattered.

And then, he’d rounded that corner at the State Department and bumped into an angel.

Sean had never believed in love at first sight, and he wasn’t sure that’s what had happened then. All he knew was he had been a dead man walking, but witnessing just one soft smile from Serena, he had come back to life and rediscovered what it felt like to love.

But from the very beginning, he had expected something from Serena that he had been too selfish to give himself—total honesty. Not telling her about Emma was easier than baring his agony and bringing it out into the light. Burying the pain, smothering it in darkness, was how he’d survived. It had been a cowardly act. When he’d finally told her about Emma, instead of calling him out on his stupidity, she had offered her understanding and love.

And how had he repaid her? He’d left her in the hands of that monster. Maybe that sin, more than any of the others, was what was causing his spiral into darkness. He had deserted the love of his life to face the devil alone.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t have fought a half-dead fly in the condition he’d been in. It didn’t even matter that she’d told him it was what she wanted to do. This was all on him. When he’d persuaded her to come with him to OZ, she had been concerned she wasn’t as well trained as the other operatives and might be a liability on a mission. He had known she was much more competent than she gave herself credit for—which was true, but he’d also made her a promise. He’d told her he’d always be there, by her side. That they would work all their ops together. That he would never leave her alone.

One more betrayal. One more way he’d screwed up. One more way he’d let her down.

That was in the past. He was through screwing up. Finished with the self-pity. He was ready to go get his wife. Problem was, she wasn’t ready to be rescued. Each day, she had sent intel that could have taken months or years to gather. Thanks to Serena, they had more information now than they’d ever had before.

But now his gut was speaking to him—every fiber of his being was telling him to go and get her. He didn’t believe in premonitions, but he did trust his instincts.

He’d told Ash and the team that they needed to go. No one, including Ash, had supported his idea of a preemptive rescue without Serena’s say-so. He didn’t blame them. They trusted her to make the call. So did Sean. But beyond that trust was the agonizing fear that his instincts were right, and not getting her out now could have dire consequences.

So here he was, doing everything he could to squelch his desire to go off on his own. It could be a suicide mission, but if he could save her, then his life would be worth the cost.

A knock at his door pulled him from his misery. He called out, “Come in,” and watched Ash storm into his room.

Sean sat up abruptly, his heart in his throat. “What’s happened?”

His eyes gleaming with both excitement and triumph, he said, “We heard from Serena. It’s almost time.”

“What did she say?”

“Kingsley has left the compound for some kind of big, week-long meeting. Smith has turned into an ally and given her a boatload of intel, though he doesn’t know the names of the top tier. Says Kingsley knows all of them, including Lazarus. She confirmed the location of the compound, but wants to wait until Kingsley returns, which she thinks will be in a few days. She’ll let us know when the time is right. We get Kingsley, we get what we need to bring them all down.”

Sean’s eyes went to the small kitchen area where he’d stored all his gear. It had been there for weeks, ready at a moment’s notice, waiting for Serena to give the go-ahead. Every day, he had checked and rechecked each item. And every day, it took enormous willpower not to grab it and go.

Ash tracked his eye movement, read his thoughts clearly. “Don’t do it, man. Just a few more days, and we’ll get her. I promise.”

“What would you do if it was Jules?”

Ash didn’t answer immediately. He’d always admired the man’s steady, deliberate thought process. It was one of the many things that made him the perfect leader of OZ.

Finally, Ash gave an abrupt nod and said gravely, “Every cell in my body would be telling me to go get her. Damn the consequences, damn the mission. But that doesn’t mean it would be the right thing to do. If Jules were calling the shots and telling me to wait, I would hope that I would have the good sense to trust her.”

And there was the crux. Sean did trust Serena. She was the smartest, wisest person he knew. He just wished his gut would get on board.