Page 43 of Lost Hope

The mere thought made Ronan’s chest tight. “No. I can’t ... not now.” Not when he had no idea if they’d even welcome his presence after three years of silence.

“Listen.” Axel’s voice dropped lower. “First off, Tank was their friend too. They deserve to know what’s going on.” When Ronan started to protest, he pressed on. “Second, what if whoever’s behind this starts digging? They’ll be in danger too, whether they know it or not.”

Ronan ran a hand through his hair. “And?”

“And these Knight Tactical guys?” Axel gestured at the room. “They’re ridiculously competent. But more brains in the room can’t hurt. Tank deserves the best. From all of us.”

The logic was rock-solid, unfortunately.

Ronan drew a deep breath, then turned back to the group. “Axel and I have one other task,” he announced, the words coming fast. “We’re bringing in the rest of our team.” He braced himself for arguments, questions, resistance. Not that any of them would matter.

Instead, Jack just shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Christian’s expression was almost comical. “About time, dude.”

The team dispersed, leaving Ronan, Axel, Maya, and her father in the conference room. Chen’s measured pacing reminded Ronan of a tiger he’d once seen in a Mumbai zoo—all contained power and frustration.

“We’ll help you contact your team,” the man offered, pausing mid-stride.

Maya nodded eagerly. “I can?—”

“No.” Axel’s voice was gentle but firm. “These folks ... they’re particular about contact. Especially now.”

“They’re family,” Ronan added, seeing Maya’s expression darken. “But they’re also special ops. Paranoid is their default setting.”

“He’s right, baby girl.” Chen’s tone made Maya’s eyes narrow. “Why don’t you come down to the range with your old man? Work on that stance of yours.”

“Dad, my stance is fine?—”

“Is that what you call that paper target I saw yesterday? Looking like it was hit by a drunk marksman in an earthquake?”

“That was ... I was distracted!”

“Exactly.” Chen steered her toward the door with practiced ease. “Range time. Now. Show me you can still shoot like I taught you.”

Maya’s expression suggested she’d rather have dental surgery without anesthesia, but she allowed herself to be guided out, throwing one last frustrated look over her shoulder. She paused at the door. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Ronan met her eyes, caught between gratitude and that familiar urge to protect her from his mess. “I know.”

Ronan waited until they were gone before turning to Axel. “Where do we start?”

Ronan’s stomach churned as he stared at the list of names on his phone. Three years of silence stretched between him and each one like a chasm. He wouldn’t blame them if they told him to go to hell. Or worse, just didn’t answer.

“Maybe you should make the calls.” He glanced at Axel. “I should be ... checking the VA security protocols. Or?—”

“Hiding?” Axel’s voice was sharp but kind. “That’s over, brother. Time to put the past behind you.”

The fear hit harder than anger now. What could he possibly say to them? Sorry I ghosted you all when things got rough?Sorry I couldn’t handle being around anyone who reminded me of ...

“This is for Tank,” Axel said quietly, reading him like always. “They’ll help. They loved him too.”

Ronan exhaled slowly, nodding. “Okay. How do we split this?”

“I’ll take Deke and Kenji. You handle Zara and Izzy.”

“What about Ghost?”

Axel’s expression tightened. “Last known number’s disconnected. But I’ve got a few back channels we can try. Let’s start with the others.”

Ronan looked down at his phone again. Zara would be awake—she kept vampire hours. And Izzy’s shop would be open. His finger hovered over Zara’s number, stomach twisting again.

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