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Stay strong. Do not bend. Do not fold.
"Can someone give me a real fucking plan?"
Gabe could tell I was almost at the end of my rope. "Look, our every moves are being watched, so no matter what, you need to act as if you're giving them exactly what they want. And we will. I trust the people in this room with my life. All of you have been affected by what has happened in the last several weeks. You are the inner circle for me. So if I need to go in, I trust that this team and this team alone can bring me out. Maybe we just give them the appearance of doing as they expect us to. Prepare to bring me in. Obviously, I can't seem to be going along with it. I’ll have to fight."
I smirked at that, even though I didn't want to.
Saint coughed under his breath, and he and Lachlan just looked at each other. Rook flat-out beamed. I rolled my eyes. "Focus, lads."
Gabe's gaze on mine was intense, and I could feel the heat of it scorching over my skin like hot licks of pure fire.
"I have full faith in this team, so let's hear some ideas of how the hell Tabatha here is going to hand me off in a prisoner exchange. Make it good. The more outrageous, the better."
Despite myself, the more he talked, the more I loved him. I just had to figure out how the hell I was going to keep him alive. Because as desperate as I was for my sister, I didn't think I'd be able to give him up.
Gabe
I knew she was worried. Hell, her concerns were fair and accurate. If and when the Syndicate did torture me, it would only be a matter of time before I cracked and was spilling all the national secrets.
My weak points were currently in the room with me, looking like a beautiful family. Lachlan was swirling my sister around in her glittery gold-sequined dress. And was the dress too short? Yes. But mostly that was me as a brother talking. She looked stunning as her dress sparkled next to her dark skin, and her braids were piled high on top of her head. And despite the shortness of the dress, I knew my sister was armed to the teeth.
My other weakness, possibly an even bigger one than Saff, Tabatha, sat with Kaya, laughing. I’d decided to host all of Rogues at my house. Not the manor, because I'd always looked at the manor as Saff's house. One day when she was Ops Command, I would give her the freedom to be who she was meant to be. She couldn't do that with me living under the same roof and also being a Rogue.
If you're not Ops Command, would you still be a Rogue?
The question had been mulling around in my head ever since Tabatha had mentioned it. What it meant, what my function meant to me, and what my position meant for our relationship.
She had quickly become everything that was pure and good about my life. My monarch. My butterfly. This whole thing had started by accident. I'd been doing so well staying away from her. But as I watched her now in that glittering, backless, shocking pink dress she wore with a thigh high slit that just teased of what was up three more inches, all I wanted to do was take her upstairs, bend her over the bed, and show her how sorry I was.
That's not an apology, that's fucking.
I knew that.
Because even if I fucked some sense into the both of us, that pain would still be there, where she felt like I didn't trust her, and I felt like I had to protect her.
She is an agent. You helped train her yourself.
I had. I absolutely had, but God, the idea that I could lose her was killing me.
Well, you fucked up and you lost her anyway.
I swallowed hard and focused my attention on my drink. "You look like a man in pain."
I tilted my head up to where Saint stood now, behind the couch. I gave him a nod and turned my attention back to my scotch before throwing it back. The liquid went down smoothly, warming everything as it went. "Yeah, well."
"Boss, are you sure about this?"
"And here I thought you'd be happy about my impending doom."
Saint frowned at me. "Look, I don't always agree with how you do things. I think there's too much secrecy, but obviously, you're Ops Command, and I understand it. And I also know you took a bullet for my wife. I can never, ever repay that. I owe you everything for that, in fact. So no, I am not happy even thinking about your impending doom."
I shrugged. "It's nothing that any of the men in here wouldn't have done. Hell, any of the women. Every single agent here would have taken that bullet for her."
Saint nodded and took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, but it was you who did it. You could have sent someone else to do it, and you did it yourself. So, I'm going to say it… We need you to run this team, mate. This whole plan, it's a bad idea."
"Aren't we always full of bad ideas? You almost sound like you care about me. I’m touched."
"You're a dick. A complete utter twat. But you're a good bloke. And honestly, a dangerous one at that. It’s just that I think this plan doesn't sit well."
