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“I’m not grieving, because she’s not dying,” I hissed, stabbing my finger toward the ground while keeping my voice low so my teammates didn’t hear me. “Did anything change?”
“Did you tell your teammates? Are you still planning to board my jet and fly to the Caymans?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and I hated that. It meant nothing changed for the better if she couldn’t even look at me.
“No, I didn’t. And yes, we are,” I said roughly as I let go of my wrapped hand. An injury that no one had asked questions about.
I hadn’t punched the walls in front of Charley. I’d lost control in private. Then I’d dropped to the floor and broke down and cried.
After I’d let myself grieve about a future that hadn’t happened yet, I remembered who the fuck I was and pulled myself together. Because I WOULDN’T let her die. Not on my watch. I’d find a way. Or I’d . . .
“I’m sorry.” Camila reached for my forearm. “You can’t save Charley without sacrificing others.”
I stared at her hand for a moment before jerking my focus up to glare at her. “And if I tell the team, somehow more people die?” I forced out the horrible words.
Camila nodded, and I peered over at Charley talking to Lucy and Gwen.
I caught Charley’s eyes for a moment, and she shook her head. A silent apology for breaking my heart because of her “destiny.”
“Fuck your visions.” There went the control I’d worked so hard to get ahold of again after leaving the safe house.
“If Charley lives, and her sister dies, she won’t be able to handle that. Just like you couldn’t survive Gray dying because you lived.”
Camila wouldn’t hammer home any rational points with me on that. I wasn’t exactly capable of thinking clearly to see the logic in her words. I was stuck in the land of tunnel vision. And SAVE CHARLEY was the bold mantra cutting through my head on repeat. No matter what, tagged onto that thought as well.
“Don’t do this to me.” My voice broke and I dropped my chin as her hand slid up my arm to grip my shoulder. On reflex, I backed away from her, feeling the need to blame her even if it wasn’t fair to do so.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured before leaving my side to head toward Carter.
I swallowed, trying to pull myself together again, then went over to where Gray stood talking to Jesse. “Two of Camila’s men will go in my place when we arrive. I’m staying with the women at the airport in the Caymans.”
Gray opened his mouth as if to protest. He’d want me on the op, and I hated not having my best friend’s back, but I knew he’d be okay. Charley, well . . .
“Okay,” Gray said without rebuttal.
I nodded my thanks, then went over to Charley, reached for her hand, and she wordlessly walked with me outside the hangar.
“Five minutes, and we fly out,” Carter called to us, but I didn’t look back to acknowledge his words.
“We’ll hold course,” I told her, gently gripping her forearms as she peered into my eyes. “But I’m going to do everything in my power to not let anyone die.” After a few tears slid down her cheeks, one hitting her wobbly lip, I rasped, “I’ll fight with my last breath to keep you alive.” I held as steadfast and calm as I could when I shared, “My dad couldn’t survive without my mom, and I don’t need years of knowing you to understand how he felt. I won’t survive without you.” The confession was too soon, too early, but we were already on what felt like borrowed time, so she had to know how I felt. “If for some reason I can’t save you, I’ll be sure to take out as many motherfuckers as I can on my way out the door with you.” I reached for her wrist, smoothed my thumb over the words inked there and declared, “Where you go, I go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JACK
GRAND CAYMAN, CAYMAN ISLANDS
“Focus on the things you can control.” Mom used to remind me of that whenever it felt like the world might swallow me whole. When life kept throwing things my way to see if I could catch it, juggle it, or if I’d just give up and drop it. And of all the times I’d fumbled the metaphorical ball of life, this was one damn time I refused to let a mistake happen.
No, I had to find a way to control what felt like an uncontrollable situation.
As we prepared to land, I looked down at my hand. Charley was clutching it like a lifeline. I knew she wasn’t terrified of flying, so I could only assume it was about what was to come. She had barely spoken on the flight, blotting away any tears that’d managed to break free before her sister could see them. The few times I’d caught her mid-sniffle, she’d give me a little tip of her lips in apology as if feeling bad for expressing her emotions. And each time I’d witnessed it, I’d felt like I’d been run over.
At the feel and sound of the pilot putting down our landing gear, I sat taller and looked around inside the cabin at everyone on board. Camila was sitting with Carter near the front of the twelve-passenger jet. Two of her men had joined our flight, and they were facing Jesse and Oliver, engaged in conversation.
Lucy was in the aisle opposite of us. She’d fallen asleep at some point, and her head was resting on Mason’s shoulder. From the look of it, Mason didn’t seem to mind. Charley followed my line of sight but didn’t loosen her grip on my hand as she checked on her sister who was now stirring as if realizing our descent had started.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered, redirecting her focus. Her stunning eyes met mine, and we stared at each other, lost in our own thoughts and our own little world, as our descent continued.
Well, until Oliver barked out, “We’ve got a problem.”
