There was no way he could let a woman this perfect for him slip out of his life. There had to be a way for them to be together.
If they survived this shit, he was going to find it.
A head popped up, the one he’d been waiting for, and he fired. A hit. There was some frantic movement as the last target moved, but he didn’t have a clear shot at this one.
Two shots were fired by someone else from a different direction and the movement stopped.
Smoke’s voice whispered over the radio, “Clear.”
“Return to Beta position,” Sharp said, then started moving himself. He had a doctor to discipline.
On the way back to the cave entrance, he checked on the men Grace had shot. One dead, one wounded. The wounded man lifted his weapon. Sharp shot him before he could fire, but he wasn’t happy about that either. He wanted answers and wouldn’t get any from a corpse.
He arrived at the cave before Smoke. As he slipped inside, he came face-to-face with Grace lowering her Beretta.
Good. At least she’d been prepared to shoot if he hadn’t been friendly.
She ducked her head and walked away, her shoulders hunched like a woman who’d been hit by someone she loved.
Was she hurt?
He lunged after her and pulled her to a stop. “Are you injured?”
Her face was solemn. “Not really.” She glanced into the dark interior of the cave. “March...died.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
His anger flared again and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wrapping up the rage, frustration, and sadness with steel bands of control. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions rule him until they were in a safe place.
But he could offer her support. “Come here,” he whispered. “Let me hold you.”
Yeah, he was an ass, because he was totally taking advantage of her kindness and empathy for him, so he could comfort her.
She came to him without hesitation, without question, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the hollow of his shoulder. She didn’t cry, but she held on tight. So tight her arms shook.
A crunch on the rocks behind him accompanied by a whisper of sound.
Sharp glanced over his shoulder to find Smoke there, his face set in cold lines.
“March is gone,” Sharp told him.
Smoke only nodded, then turned away to stand guard at the entrance.
“I’m so tired of my friends dying,” Grace said to him, her voice rough with tears. “So tired of killing people.” She pulled away and wiped her face with her sleeve. “No one is going to win. There isnowin.”
He didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She was right.
“When did he pass?”
“A few minutes before you got back. I held his hand. I told him he could go, and he went.”
He buried his face in her hair and whispered, “Thank you. Thank you for being there for him.”
“If it had been you, I’d have yelled and screamed at you to stay.” She pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t have let you go.”