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If he missed one small detail…
If he couldn’t feed the intel to Blackout in time to put a stop to it…
He had to balance two worlds right now. Going off the grid had thrown off all the balance—he couldn’t do that again. He had to walk with a foot in both worlds.
Surveying the range covered in dirty pots and pans, he let out a sigh. The past few days had taken a toll on him too. He never slept well but had really lost sleep after Indika was injured. The urge to leave the dishes until tomorrow, to climb into bed next to her and gently curl up against her body, damn near overcame him.
Then his good sense returned, along with the realization that she most likely would wake the minute he slipped under the covers with her. Disrupting her rest wouldn’t help her at all.
As he plugged the sink drain and turned on the warm water to begin washing dishes, his mind wandered over all the problems in his life right now.
There were very few minutes of the day that he didn’t miss his team. He’d fought with Charlie for two years, and with his commanding officer, Con, much longer. They’d been cadets in the Naval Academy before being assigned to the same ship. While Con went into BUD/S training to become a SEAL, Apollo stuck it out in the Navy.
Only after he was decorated for saving several of his fellow seamen in the Gulf of Mexico did Blackout approach him to join them and he received his own SEAL training of a higher level.
Yeah, he and Con were tight. At least hethoughtthey were.
It stung that his buddy hadn’t jumped at the chance to reinstate him on the team. But Con wasn’t holding a grudge, that much Apollo knew. He was just making the best decision for team and country.
As Apollo scrubbed dishes, his mind flitted from the action Charlie had seen to hooking up with Alpha on the final push to capture Abubakar. Maybe it was the fact he’d been working alone for three years, but being part of their team felt damn good. The guys didn’t lay down judgment for what happened in the Texas bunker. They were just glad to have him fighting on their side.
He rinsed the dishes and set them in the dishrack to dry. Then he wiped his hands on a towel and pulled out his phone.
There were no new notifications about the turmoil brewing in the terrorist cell, but that didn’t mean all was calm. Years of battle taught him that the calm usually meant they were in the eye of the storm. One move left or right and all hell broke loose.
Using a secure messaging app, he shot a text to one of his contacts, asking if any chatter had been detected. The web of spies and hackers was wide. If this contact didn’t know anything, he’d keep trying others. During his years undercover, he’d befriended people in shadows, under rocks and in the darkest caves in the world. All of them fighting for the same thing.
His contact responded with a message that nothing new had popped up in the past twelve hours.
Apollo asked a few more contacts the same question but received similar replies.
He’d lived through these spells of silence before. And when everything blew up again? Did he vanish to fight and leave Indika?
Leaning against the counter, he let his shoulders slump with the weight of the decision he struggled to shoulder right now.
Having Indika back in his life was both a blessing and a torment. If he disappeared from her life a second time, it was all over. He’d never get her back. At least here, now, taking care of her provided a small glimmer of hope.
On a whim, he shot a text to one of the guys on Alpha. He and Mustang weren’t what he’d call close, but they worked well together, probably because Mustang was also considered a wild card at one point.
The message went unanswered. Either the team was deployed or the lucky bastard was curled up in bed with his beautiful wife.
Silence rang in his ears. Even the fan of the refrigerator shut off. He threw a look at the rest of the kitchen and spotted the bottle of prescription painkillers. He’d only managed to kill a few minutes. Had enough time passed to check on Indika again?
He switched off the light and quietly walked through the apartment, brushing balloons out of his path. When he reached the cracked door again, he peered in.
She hadn’t budged. Just gazing at her sent a pang through his heart. Longing and dread twined into one painful barb. She deserved a man in her life who stuck around.
But she took a chance on him once, knowing that he may not ever come back to her.
The mere thought of someone like Mr. Yacht Club sweeping her up and making her his? Oh fuck no. Apollo’s fists clenched from the mere thought.
But guys like Mr. Yacht Club, or even Brown, could make commitments to dinner dates, movies, romantic trips. What the hell couldheoffer her?
Worry, pain, heartache. Hell, he couldn’t even keep himself from trying to dig up dirt on what was happening with Abubakar’s group when he was on medical leave.
He curled his fingers into the doorframe, chest burning. He didn’t want to leave her.
She’d be better off if he walked away.
