With Every Breath (Slow Burn 4)

He made a show of checking his watch just to make his point that most people were in bed, asleep and not in their driveway about to go to war. He had to bite his lip to ask how long it had been since she’d been one of those people who were in bed, asleep, because she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks and his blood ran hot with fury all over again. How had Dane not seen this? Or Caleb, Beau, Zack, anyone! Why had she been the one to request vacation time instead of one of her partners stuffing her in a safe house somewhere and then sitting on her ass, making damn sure she ate, slept and didn’t battle her nightmares alone. Partners his ass. A partner would have her back and not give a shit if her feelings got hurt or whether her pride got ruffled because her partner demanded she stand down.

Finally, her eyes flickered to his, the prolonged silence obviously making her uneasy. For that matter it was making him damn uneasy. He’d all but insulted the entire precious organization she worked for, and she’d usually defend them with her dying breath, and yet she’d acted as though she hadn’t even heard his scathing criticism. As the saying went, however, never look a gift horse in the mouth, so he took advantage and pounced, pinning her with his stare.

“Just how low are your reserves right now, Eliza? Fumes aren’t going to get you very far and that’s all you’re running on right now. I’d be surprised if you could make it down the block. If your goddamn agency is so sacred, then why the hell aren’t they taking better care of you?”

He almost wished she hadn’t looked at him. Almost. Because he was bombarded by so many conflicting emotions that it unsteadied him and he had to shift his weight to his other foot to cover his reaction.

Grief, fury, sorrow, guilt and . . . What the fuck? He wanted to roar it! What the ever loving fuck?

He swore long, hard and viciously in his mind. Rage hurtled through his veins and this time, he couldn’t control the flex of his fingers into tight fists, knotted over his chest. Red. He could swear he was seeing red. His jaw clenched, and he wanted nothing more than to go knock Dane on his fucking ass. And the rest of his pissant agency as well.

Fear. He saw fucking fear in this female warrior’s eyes. And a hell of a lot more. But fear was the one that clenched his gut and squeezed mercilessly. Fucking fear in Eliza’s eyes.

That more than anything decided the matter for him. He had come out of curiosity after Dane’s unexpected request and, well, because he’d been determined to follow up on the bullshit story she’d given him about Gracie’s supposed surprise—both excuses. He damn well knew it because he hated admitting how much he thought about her and he really hated the fact he’d grasp any excuse to see her . . . but Dane’s bizarre request gave Wade a solid excuse to run Eliza to ground. Since he hadn’t expected any of what he’d witnessed tonight, he’d firmly planned to call Dane the next morning and tell him to go to hell. Now? Oh hell no.

Fuck Dane. Fuck DSS. Fuck playing babysitter and shadowing Eliza only to report in to Dane because Dane was “worried.” This was his situation now because he was making it his. Eliza’s protection, needs and especially making goddamn sure she had nothing to be afraid of was, as of now, his sole objective. And Dane and his requests for check-ins could go to hell.

She was his. Not Dane’s. Not DSS’s and damn sure not someone’s teammate. Had no one been able to see, cared enough to see what this fierce survivor had suffered—was still suffering? And did they not realize that if Eliza was fucking scared, then it was bad? Not just bad. The worst.

He was so goddamn mad that he was precariously close to losing his shit right in the middle of her driveway. He wanted every last one of those bastards’ blood, especially Dane’s. Dane, her partner—no, family—according to Eliza’s words. Words still ringing in his ears. Dane had wimped out and sent Wade like an errand boy knowing how she looked and admitting he was “worried.” For something this precious and important, Dane was too worried over making his “friend” mad when he should have been more worried about having her at all.

The entire episode, his sudden insight and decision had taken no more than a tenth of a second. A hell of a short time for the course of his life to alter. And in just that nanosecond, Eliza recovered and her face became icy, chill radiating from her eyes.

She looked cool, unflappable, like the Eliza he thought he’d known. The one everyone else was supposed to know. But in the time a blink of an eye took, Wade saw something he was certain no one had ever seen or bothered to notice.

She holstered her gun and took a step forward until she was a mere twelve inches from him. She notched her chin up, defiance and fire glinting in her eyes. Too bad for her. That tenth of a second had meant the difference between him letting her walk away and him sticking to her like glue.

“You don’t know anything about me, Sterling,” she said in a cool voice. “Don’t ever make the mistake of thinking you do. Assumptions get people killed. Readiness, preparation, working to become the best. Those are what save not only your life but the lives of your teammates as well. We aren’t in this as every man for himself. We’re a unit. We’re . . . family.”

Something cracked in her voice at those last words and he had the strangest compulsion to simply wrap his arms around her and do nothing but comfort her and bury his face in her sweet smelling hair. The instincts he always relied on told him she was barely hanging on by a thread and would likely fall apart.

He reined himself in before she panicked and tried to kick his ass. Tried being the operative word. Right now he wished she would try to kick his ass because then at least he’d be familiar with this Eliza and not this kicked puppy version.

“I know a lot more about you than you think I do,” he said, his features going hard.

The lie rolled easily off his tongue, because he wanted to do something more to widen the crack he’d witnessed just moments before. It made him a complete bastard, but he’d never have this opportunity when her defenses were up and she’d shaken off whatever the hell haunted those soulful eyes. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t get the information he already claimed to have. He just hadn’t had a solid reason beyond his annoying preoccupation with her to intrude on her privacy in such an underhanded way.

His code or rather sense of justice may seem twisted or even criminal by others, but if it got the job done and the desired effect achieved, then he didn’t waste much time over useless emotions like remorse. And if it helped him get to the bottom of whatever the hell was making Eliza run like a scared rabbit, he’d hound her night and day until she conceded and let him in.