Page 96 of Lost Hope

“Minnie,” the admiral warned, but he was smiling. “Let them breathe.”

“I’m just saying?—”

“We know exactly what you’re saying, Love.”

Later, after they’d gotten Ronan settled in Knight Tactical’s medical bay, Maya found herself watching through the observation window as his team settled in for their vigil. Izzy had already claimed the best chair, her feet propped on Deke’s lap as she worked on her laptop. Zara was arguing with Kenji about treatment protocols while Axel played referee. Griff stood slightly apart, that haunted look more pronounced now that the adrenaline had faded. He caught her eye and headed out into the hallway.

Maya approached him carefully. “Want to talk about it?”

He managed a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, but ... it’s between me and Ronan. Something we need to work through together.” His eyes went distant. “When he’s better.”

“Well, if you ever need an outside perspective ...”

“I’ll know who to call.” This smile was warmer. “You’re good people, Maya. I see why he ...” He trailed off, shrugging.

Inside the room, Izzy was now threatening to draw mustaches on Ronan while he slept. Deke had produced a pack of cards from somewhere and was attempting to teach Zara some complicated variant of poker, while Kenji periodically reminded them to keep their voices down in the medical bay.

Maya watched them, something aching in her chest. This was what she wanted. Not just the missions or the adrenaline or even the chance to stop terrible things before they happened. She wanted this—the way they moved around each other like planets in a perfect orbit, the shorthand of inside jokes, the absolute certainty that any one of them would die for the others without hesitation. At LAPD and NCIS, she had colleagues.

Here, she could have family.

The realization settled over her like sunrise. She’d spent so long trying to follow her father’s path, to be the daughter he wanted. But watching Ronan’s team—his family—she finally understood. Sometimes the right path was the one that scared you most.

Ronan’s team had only joined forces to help Marcus. Nothing said they’d turn into the next Knight Tactical. But even if it wasn’t with Ronan, she wanted this. Maybe the admiral would see her potential?

If not, she’d keep looking until she discovered her own found family. Having seen genuine teamwork in action, she knew she couldn’t live the rest of her life without it.

She needed air. She slipped out of the medical wing and into the morning sunshine, letting the crisp mountain breeze clear her head. Her father would be waiting—she’d seen him heading toward the main headquarters. The workout room, probably. Might as well get this over with. She’d made up her mind, after all. The past few days had shown her exactly where she belonged, even if it meant disappointing him. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the corner.

The familiar smell of leather and sweat hit her as she pushed open the gym door. Her father was already there, working the heavy bag with the focused intensity she remembered from childhood. Without turning, he caught a set of sparring gloves and tossed them her way.

“Your cross still dropping?” he asked, steadying the bag.

Maya smiled, wrapping her hands. Some things never changed. “Only when I’m tired.”

“Which you must be.” He moved to the mat, raising his guards. “Long few days.”

She squared up across from him, feeling the familiar rhythm settle over them. Jab, cross, slip. Block, counter, move. They’d done this dance a thousand times.

“Dad, I?—”

“You’re leaving NCIS.” He caught her hook, nodded approval at the follow-up she threw. “Not a question.”

“Yes.” She ducked under his combination. “What they do here, what Knight Tactical does ... it’s not just about solving crimes or getting justice after the fact. They prevent the worst from happening in the first place. That’s what I want to do.”

She waited for the argument, the disappointment. Instead, he dropped his hands, his expression thoughtful.

“You know, when you were little, all I wanted was for you to follow in my footsteps.” He smiled, touching his glove to her chin like he used to when she was small. “Took me too long to realize you needed to make your own path. And this”—he gestured toward the medical wing—“this looks like a pretty good path.”

Maya blinked hard against sudden tears. “Really?”

“Really.” He pulled her into a sweaty hug. “Just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“When you and Ronan figure out whatever this is between you—and don’t try to tell me there isn’t something—you’ll let your old man walk you down the aisle?”

“Dad!” But she was laughing, ducking away from his teasing jab.

---