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Chapter Twenty
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“You’re absolutely sure?”
What was he hoping to accomplish by saying it for the hundredth time? To turn it into some kind of abra cadabra, making Hawk’s announcement less true? To rub it in like chafe balm, expecting it to erase the stab wounds altogether?
Gashes from an attack he’d even known to prepare for. A plan he’d prayed they’d never have to use.
Because the assets had never been more invaluable.
And who the fuck was he kidding with that platitude? Assets? Invaluable? If they genked this up, there wasn’t any “sweating it off” with hours in the gym or “drinking it off” with hours in the bar. There’d be no erasing it, period. This time, the assets were the woman who’d given him back his spirit, and the boy who’d given him back his smile.
But they were prepared. And preparedness was half the battle, yeah?
What the fuck moron had said that?
Because he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for this. Yeah, the logistics were clicking. Yeah, the details were being handled—technically. But none of it eased the mounting dread in his gut, the relentless pressure on his chest. On his heart.
Yeah. There it was again. And right now, he didn’t even try to deny it. He didn’t even want to.
He pulled in a long breath. Several more. He could do this. He’d been under worse stress before and kept his shit together. Okay, maybe not—but maybe that all figured into the preparedness thing too. That was the shit the woman in the bathroom needed to hear, especially now. Tracy’s anxiety was palpable, even through the closed door. The little huffs she made, hurrying to get back into the black dress along with the legging things Rayna sent along with Hawk, dug fresh gashes into his own composure—reminders of how high the stakes really were. The instant replay of Garrett’s words, bringing fresh bile along with his recall, were another “convenient” cue.
Of course we’re sure. You think Z would’ve called and told me to get my ass over here if we weren’t? Ethan’s been listening for an hour now. It’s definite chatter, and it’s absolutely not ours. They’re referring to something called “Tigress’s cave”, and urging someone to “get the cub first”.
That was all Tracy had needed to hear.
It was all he’d been able to do, forcing her to calm down, get dressed, and trust Zeke and Max were completely handling things upstairs.
Yeah. As in getting those two teenagers and her two best friends out of that condo as fast as they possibly could.
Because if something happened to Luke Rhodes, the country could go ahead and get used to Blake LeGrange in the Oval Office. There’d be nothing left of Tracy Rhodes to fly back to DC.
And if there was nothing left of Tracy Rhodes, there was nothing left of him.
Dammit.
It was the most dangerous mindset for approaching a mission. The hugest liability a soldier could strap to his psyche. Effective warriors cared about the objective but not about the asset. In the name of protecting humanity, they disavowed their own. When their focus strayed from the bigger picture of the horizon, they tripped over their own two feet. Began making decisions from places other than where it mattered the most. The cold, incisive surety of their mind.
Franzen was certain he wouldn’t recognize his mind if it bit him in the ass right now.
A situation not helped by the rising panic of the woman behind the bathroom door.
“Shit!” Tracy bit it out seconds before a thwump rattled the door, followed by the sound of towels whizzing off the rack.
“Ma’am?” Hawkins yelled it, rushing to the door. “Are you all—”
“She’s fine.” Franz shouldered him aside, acknowledging and owning the overprotective ass factor of the move. “And don’t call her ‘ma’am’.”
He left Hawk behind, still smirking at him like a pretty boy wise-ass, as he rushed into the other room without knocking—
Nearly causing a second crash when he tripped over Tracy’s prone form.
“Shit. Kitten.”
“I’m all right.” But her voice faltered like the tufts of towel lint on the air. “I—I just can’t think. I can’t even put these damn tights on. I can’t think!”
Her desperate rasp brought him to his knees. “Ssshhh.” He scooped her close, pulling her hair free of its pins and bands, letting the strands fall loose around his massaging fingers. “Ssshhh now. You need to breathe for me.”
