Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents 3)

He’d just taken the first step to keeping that distance. When his brother was well—and he would be well; Gunner would do everything possible to make that happen—Slade would have his chance with Sydney.

After his years of captivity, Slade deserved happiness.

Gunner would make sure he got it.

* * *

“WHY THE HELL am I here?” Slade demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sick of this EOD crap. You hear me, Sydney? Sick of it.”

She swallowed and eased into the chair across from him. Mercer’s words replayed in her mind. Increased aggression. Paranoia. Yes, she’d sure seen that with him. But how much was due to the drugs? And how much was a result of the torture that she feared might have fractured his mind?

“Slade, you need help.” She kept her voice soft and easy, trying to soothe him.

He shoved out of his chair and leaped to his feet “What I need is to have my brother locked away, but the EOD isn’t doing that.” His cheeks flushed. “I gave them time. I gave you all time, and that time’s run out. I’m going to the press. I’m telling them everything.”

She stood, reaching for his hands. “You know the EOD’s work is classified.”

“I don’t care.” He yanked away from her.

“The man you used to be—he cared.”

“That man died in a jungle.

She flinched. “I think...I think that man is still inside.” She had to be very careful. “I want to help you get him back. I want to help you.”

His eyes searched hers. “How you gonna do that?”

This was the tricky part. “Mercer has a place for you to go. The doctors there can get you well.”

“You think I’m sick?” he snarled.

Yes. “I think...” She inhaled a heavy breath that seemed to chill her lungs. “I think your captors gave you something while you were down there. They made you...take some drugs, didn’t they?”

He stilled.

So she kept talking. “The drugs are changing you. Making you do things, say things, that you wouldn’t normally do. But we can help you—”

“You’re not going to stay with me.” His flat words had her floundering.

“Slade, I—”

“Whenever I touch you...” He came closer and touched her cheek.

She flinched.

“You do that,” he said, and his hand dropped. “You can’t stand for me to touch you anymore, can you?”

“Slade...” She locked her knees and refused to give in to the urge to back away from him. “You need the help—”

“I need you, but he’s between us. Always between us.”

“This isn’t about Gunner!” It wasn’t. “It’s about getting you back to normal. Getting your life back.”

“What life?” Spittle flew from his mouth. “Without you, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Then he moved quickly, faster than she’d anticipated, especially with his limp, and his hands grabbed her arms, right under her elbows. He yanked her up on her tiptoes, forcing her body close to his. “Tell me, are you going to marry me, Sydney?”

“We can’t—we can’t even think about that now. We have to get you well. That’s the priority, that’s—”

“Are you going to marry me?” He was yelling at her.