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A sleekNon my phone screen, accompanied by its sudden ringing, distracted me. I sighed. I wished he would leave us alone. He'd tried to get through Grizzly first, but the second he realized he needed another in, he chose me.
I didn't care that Neptune hadn't let us finish the mission or find out what fanned Omar's sails. But I did care that he'd destroyed the steadiest ship in all the fleet with one decision.
Excusing myself from the room, I took his call on the balcony, letting the night's cool air rain down on my heated skin.
"Captain."
"Paladin, have you conveyed the news I shared with Grizzly?"
Funny he still called us by our SEAL names.
"I haven't."
Quiet.
"Paladin," he said finally, reproach heavy in his rich, low tone.
"I understand your grievances. Not many in the Naval Special Warfare Command do. But this involves a dangerous operative and a tricky situation. I wouldn't ask for your help unless it was necessary."
Or unless you were in a pile of shit no one else could get you out of, you old toad.
"I'll see what I can do."
After he hung up, I returned to find Juniper sitting on the bed. Miguel and Reed had brought her clothes back, and they were getting dressed as well.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked me, concern in her sweet voice. "Can I do anything? Make you some tea?"
I shook my head, feeling something raw pricking my heart. I'd had an ex before. Many ages before. Like most other people in my life, she'd expected me to man up and take all my losses objectively. I wasn't supposed to getemotional.
In fact, this had been the norm for so long I'd forgotten there could ever be an exception—and that she could stare at me with her green eyes and tell me it was valid to feel upset.
Suddenly, I needed to get out. The room seemed to close in on me, its walls threatening to take away my sheer ability to breathe.
Reed must have seen the look on my face because he came up and took me aside.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. I didn't feel ready enough to tell him about Neptune and his intel yet. "But what's up with you? You look like you're about to give back your lunch."
He snorted. "Funny. I just got a message from Hunter. He wants to meet us."
I groaned. "Right now? It's literally after nine."
"He doesn't know we're grandmas who like crocheting with our cats as soon as the clock hits six."
I wanted to grumble a while longer, but I sighed. There was no getting out of this—he was our client. We'd taken this job, and we'd signed a contract.
Unless and until he turned out to be a rotten seed, we couldn't turn down his directives, not when we were objectively workingforhim.
"Fine," I grumbled. "I'll go get the car ready. I'm also taking my gun with me. He'd better not mess with us tonight, or I swear I'm gonna—"
"Yes, you'll go full Kingsman on him, and I'll singCountry Roadswhile you go blow yourself up. Stop it, Paladin. We have work to do, and we'll get it done."
I wanted to stomp my foot like a petulant child, but he had a point.
"Fine," I said again, having lost all apparent control over my vocabulary. "Whatever you say, Cap."
"And I was just getting used to you calling me Skipper."
