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Her eyes widened and her throat worked, but when she responded, her tone gave no indication of how she felt about what he’d just said. Yeah, the cool assassin was definitely back.
He clenched his fists and jammed them into his jeans pocket to keep from reaching for her. He wished he was free to test her perfect control.
“Funny, but I don’t remember taking you on as a partner.”
“You are aware we’re on the same side,” he responded, giving into the grin that threatened out of nowhere. She frustrated him to the extreme in ways he didn’t begin to try and understand. He missed sparring with her. Wishing he’d walked away and gone back to the barracks with GQ was useless. He swore that getting shot at with a chance of getting blown up was easier than dealing with this inner turmoil shit.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she told him flatly. “And partners are all we can be, apparently.”
He watched her face, surprised to see the flash of real anger, not just irritation. He wasn’t sure if she was really angry with him, or more at herself.
There was no point in sugarcoating anything. Being brutally honest was the only recourse here. “I can only promise you that I’m working on it.”
She tensed further, and he could see her wage her own internal battle. He had no idea what she was doing here. It was clear she hadn’t intended to deal with him, much less their fucked-up relationship. For a moment, he felt bad about ruining her op.
“I wish I had a better answer, but I’ve got my own shit to deal with first.”
She simply stared at him, and for a second, dropped her guard. She was as frustrated as he was, hot for each other was putting it mildly. He was the damn roadblock, unless there was something she wasn’t telling him. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was more than a little unsettled. Either by this op she was working on, or by something else entirely. He didn’t know Karasu or what was going on in her personal life.
“I understand and I think there’s just too much pushing us in the other direction.” She looked away and murmured, “You wouldn’t want to get to know me anyway.”
“Like hell I wouldn’t,” he said fiercely.
She snorted at that, then looked almost surprised at her own outburst. “We’ve hardly seen each other, and I don’t usually stick around,” she said, shifting uncomfortably, possibly feeling his steady regard.
He didn’t look away. Couldn't actually. She was so goddamn beautiful, enticing, dangerous. This was the most she had ever revealed in her face. Much to the detriment of his physical comfort, because his dick was hard again, but also getting his mind working, too. And not strictly on the business end of things. Not a good sign, but perhaps if he indulged himself now, he could get it out of his system and find a way to figure all this out and put her squarely into the present, into his life permanently.
He exhaled hard on that thought. It sent him into a tailspin, one where he was excited about that prospect.
“There are things in my past. Ugly, terrible things that shaped me into who I am. I can’t change…not even for you.” She wasn’t looking at him, and her tone was flat again and hard. But there was just a sliver of regret that came through. He saw the tremor in her jaw, the bleakness in her eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck about your past. Everyone has one. We’re both damaged. So what?”
Her cheeks drained of color, and she swallowed hard.
“We decide what we want. Then we move forward. I’m a SEAL. I don’t quit when it gets hard or dirty or dangerous or tough.”
“You have no idea what you’re up against,” she said, a tad less steel in her voice. She swung away, but he caught her arm.
“Look at me.”
Her throat worked.
“Karasu…Luna,” he said, his voice soft and husky.
She swung her gaze to his, and there was no mistaking the fatigue, wariness, and the healthy dose of fear he saw there. “Preacher…Boyce. Just let me go.” She shrugged out of his grasp.
“I don’t know how things are going to go. All I know is that I feel…I want you.” Now it was his turn to look away. Because he still wasn’t being completely truthful with her. “Maybe I’m afraid of what can happen if I let go of my vow.”
When he looked up, he was talking to empty air. Karasu was gone and he had no idea if she’d heard him at all.
* * *
GQ pacedin front of the barracks, checking his watch. The boss was going to start asking questions, and at this point, GQ wasn’t sure what Preacher wanted him to say. He forced himself to stop and looked up at the starless night and folded his arms across his chest. After the sun had gone down and the rain had started, it had gotten chilly. He leaned back against the stone that anchored a wrought iron fence and kept his gaze trained across the street. He’d left Preacher and walked back to the barracks, had a light meal and was now out here stressing whether or not he should have left his buddy like that, their number two.
He’d known since they’d discovered Striker in that alley that Preacher wasn’t okay. In fact, he wasn’t the only one on the team who noticed their teammate was struggling harder than the rest of them. He and the team only knew that Striker had been kicked out of the Navy for disobeying orders. He didn’t know what part Iceman or Preacher had played in the rogue op, but scuttlebutt had been Striker wasn’t talking.
But the real turmoil was seeing Striker in that state of mind. He’d never seen his former boss like that. It was clear to GQ, Striker had been on more than a few benders and regardless of his mettle during their encounter, he had looked like one fucked-up dude.
