Page 48 of Honoring Lena

Twenty-Four

Marshall pacedthe living room of the house Paxton’s team had secured. The wood flooring of the rundown farmhouse creaked and groaned like it protested the abuse. The sound magnified the agony twisting in his spirit. The torture of not knowing how Carter was. The grief from Lena’s evisceration of his heart.

He stopped in front of the grimy window and stared out into the darkness. How had he been stupid enough to open his heart again? It should relieve him that she was leaving before he gave her everything left within him. He wasn’t.

What he wanted to do was drag her into a private spot in the crumbling house and beg her to stay with him and Carter.

He didn’t.

Every second she spent coordinating with Paxton’s team, every moment she ignored Marshall existed, layered more doubt that he could convince her to reconsider. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Amara’s note and twisted the folded page in his hand. First Amara, then Carter, and now Lena, all pulled away from him by a group more shifting mist than something tangible. Could he ever hope to find happiness again if everything he loved got snatched away? How could he continue moving forward when all he wanted was gone?

No. He closed his eyes and balled the note in his hand. Carter wasn’t lost to Marshall, not yet. When he got his son back, he’d turn all his efforts on doubling his business’s output. These terrorists had already compromised his family’s beliefs when they threatened Amara. He wouldn’t allow evil to win again.

Bjørn stepped up next to Marshall, his hands shoved into his front pockets. His relaxed shoulders were the exact opposite of Marshall’s. His muscles were bunched so tight, he doubted they’d ever loosen. Gunnar filled the space on Marshall’s other side. Great. Marshall clenched his jaw to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t up for a Rebel pep talk at the moment.

“You doing okay?” Bjørn spoke without taking his eyes off the window.

Marshall snorted a laugh that held no humor.

“Right. Stupid question.” Bjørn shifted and lowered his head.

“We’ll get Carter back.” Gunnar cracked his knuckles, his confident voice not easing any of Marshall’s fears. “We’ve done missions like this one, hundreds of times. With our element of surprise, they won’t be able to react.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but nothing with this group goes as planned.” The words were bitter on Marshall’s tongue.

Lena hollered something to Rafe about the Eyes Beyond gadget. Marshall turned his head to find her, but stopped himself with a scrunch of his shoulders and a twisting of his neck. He’d do better staring into the black night than torturing himself with watching her. The darkness suited his mood.

“Do you think she’ll actually join Paxton’s team?” Marshall hated the despair that saturated his voice.

“I don’t know,” Bjørn said with a shrug. “You’ll have to convince her not to.”

Marshall didn’t think that would work. Bjørn nudged Marshall’s shoulder and stomped off to join the others. If Lena wanted to leave, Marshall would honor her wishes. Would the memory of her ever cool in his veins, or would every thought scorch hot with the pain of losing her?

“I know things look bleak right now.” Gunnar turned and leaned a shoulder on the window, his gaze penetrating deep into Marshall. “I promise you, we will get our boy back. I’m not stretching the truth when I say this team behind you is the best. Trust them. Don’t let hope shrivel away.” He shrugged and tipped the side of his mouth up in a smile. “Besides, I’m not about to let anything happen to my future nephew, not when he’s already wheedled his way into my heart.”

Marshall rubbed his neck, trying to let Gunnar’s words wash over him. “You heard Lena. I wouldn’t bank on Carter and I being at the next Rebel family reunion.”

“She’s scared and doesn’t know how to handle it.” Gunnar lifted his hands in resignation. “We Rebels might like to challenge life’s norms, pushing past barriers to find adventure, but put us in an emotional crisis where our heart is at risk?” Gunnar’s eyes lost focus like he stared into the past. He blinked and shook his head. “We tend to bolt like a startled moose, all clumsy and wide-eyed.”

He clapped his hand on Marshall’s shoulder. Marshall was tempted to shake the man off, but Gunnar squeezed harder. Lena’s leaving was all by her choice. Marshall knew how stubborn she was. He couldn’t change her mind, not once she’d made it up.

Sosimo hollered for Gunnar, and he strode away, leaving Marshall more confused than before. Could he risk letting the dream of Lena in? He didn’t want to spend life yearning for her if he didn’t.

“Time to go.” Zeke’s voice boomed into the room.

Marshall swallowed down the bile that rose up his throat. No time to think about the what-ifs now. Rescuing Carter was all that mattered. He had to keep his focus. He’d groused enough to get them to let him wait in the van, helping out over the com if he could. Could he actually stay in there when the time came? He wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t wait in this depressing house. His gaze caught on Lena’s as he turned to go to the van. Did her eyes hold sadness or worry? She bobbed a curt nod at him, then stomped out the door. A chill raced down his spine, and he rolled his neck to dispel it. He’d trust the team to get Carter free like Gunnar had said, but Marshall didn’t have the strength at the moment to hope beyond that.

---