Page 62 of Searching for Valor

“Sorry. I just… I don’t think…” She shook her head. “I’m the last person he needs.”

“You’re exactly who he needs,” Rhiannon countered, her tone fierce.

Izzy stared into her coffee, her stomach churning. “I betrayed him. I put you and the team in danger.”

Rhiannon reached over and gripped Izzy’s hand. “And I already forgave you for that. I know you didn’t have a choice.”

“I would’ve made the same one in your shoes,” Rose said.

“We all would have,” Anna added. “Our husbands included.”

“Oh, God, yes,” Rose said. “Ash would let the world burn if it meant saving me. He’d hate it, he’d feel guilty for it, but he’d do it.”

Anna snorted. “Not Zak. He’d set the world on fire without a second’s hesitation.”

“Pierce, too,” Rhiannon said.

“So would Shane,” Alexis said, speaking for the first time since she sat down. “Being protective is woven into the fabric of a SEAL’s DNA. And if Rylan looked at it like an operator, he’d see that he’d have made the same choice, too.”

Rhiannon nodded. “But that infamous Cross stubbornness won’t let him let go of that anger. Not because you put me in danger— though that’s undoubtedly the excuse he tells himself— but because it felt like a personal betrayal to him. Because you matter to him. If you were anyone else, he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly.”

“The line between hate and love is very thin,” Rose added. “Believe me, I know from experience. If you had told me five years ago I’d be happily married to Sheriff Grumpy Pants, I would have laughed in your face. I hated him that much. But here we are.”

Izzy shook her head, unconvinced. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t change the fact that I hurt him. Badly. I’m the last person who should be trying to help him right now.”

“Izzy,” Alexis said and waited until Izzy looked at her. “Shane told me what he could about that last mission they went on, and he thinks Rylan is drowning in survivor’s guilt. They both made some decisions that night they regret. Rylan needs someone who understands what that’s like, someone who’s been there. And you have. You know exactly how it feels to make an impossible choice and live with the consequences.”

Rhiannon squeezed Izzy’s hand, drawing her attention back to those eyes that were so much like Rylan’s. “My brother hasalways been the strong one, the protector. He’s not used to needing help, to being vulnerable, and it makes him shut down. If we don’t do something—” Her voice cracked with emotion, and Alexis touched her shoulder in a silent show of support. Rhiannon sent the other woman a grateful look, then wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands before continuing. “We’ll lose him. We need you. He needs you.“

What would it be like to have friends like this?Izzy wondered. Yes, she had Monica, but for the entire life of their friendship, she was always the one rushing to Monica’s aid, supporting Monica in her darkest moments. Just once, she wanted friends like Rylan had, who would rally around her in her darkest moments, who would fight for her, even when she couldn’t fight for herself.

The thought made her throat tight with emotion. She blinked back the sudden sting of tears and cleared her throat. “If he pushes me away?”

Anna leaned in. “Then you keep showing up. You keep fighting for him.”

“The way he’s fought for everyone else his entire life,” Rhiannon added. “He’s worth it, Izzy. You know he is.”

chapter

twenty-two

Rylan woketo golden light spilling across the rumpled sheets and a cold nose nudging insistently at his hand. He groaned and cracked one eye open, squinting against the brightness. “You better not piss on my floor.”

Valor woofed softly and pawed at the covers, his meaning clear.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting up.” Rylan threw back the blankets and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past sunrise without chemical assistance. His mouth tasted like something had died in it, but his head was clear, lacking the cottony heaviness of a hangover.

He stood and stretched, joints popping. He was too damn young to feel this old. His body had been through hell, between the rocket that took his arm and the years of hard living that followed.

But he was still here, still breathing. And for a minute last night, he didn’t think he would be. That had to count for something.

He stumbled to the bathroom to pee and brush the stale taste from his mouth, then studied his reflection in the mirror for a long moment. Bloodshot hazel eyes stared back at him from aface that was leaner and harder than it had any right to be at thirty-three.

Valor whined and danced by the door, tail wagging impatiently.

“Cool your jets, buddy. I’m coming.” He tugged on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt, not bothering with shoes or his prosthetic arm that still lay on the bedroom floor where he’d thrown it. He padded barefoot to the front door of the cabin, Valor trotting happily at his heels.

The morning air was crisp and damp, carrying the scent of pine and dew-laden earth. Rylan inhaled deeply, savoring the freshness. Steam curled from his breath in the chill. Valor bounded down the porch steps and made a beeline for a bush, hiking his leg with a contented grunt.

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