Page 23 of Bound By Valor

He sighed dramatically, putting down his food. “Okay, jeez. Two years ago, her ex-boyfriend stabbed her twice. She was in the hospital for three weeks.”

The room seemed to tilt a little as his words sank in. Logan just nibbled at his chicken wing like he hadn’t just obliterated my world.

I frowned. “Why are you only telling me this now?”

“Because you were too busy dying in guilt. Thought you might want to know why she’s tougher than you think.” Logan’s tone softened.

I processed this, feeling a twinge of guilt.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I grumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Logan continued, “Thank her for not kicking your ass for being stupid. Go talk to her, Zarek. This is the woman you were stalking, man. That’s gotta tell you something.”

I found myself staring at Leora’s closed door, piecing together the timeline. She hadn’t been with anyone since that ex. That explained her stoicism, even when cleaning my wound that night—no flinch, no hesitation. A surge of guilt washed over me, constricting my chest painfully. Here she was, surviving, trying to change her world by becoming stronger, and what had I done? I had created an environment where she felt embarrassed and humiliated. A heavy sigh escaped me. My appetite vanished as I pushed my plate away, the food now tasteless.

???

A sudden thud jolted me awake in the dead of night. Curious and a bit unsettled, I ventured out of my room only to spot a silhouette relentlessly pummeling a punching bag.

Leora.

I made my way over and quietly stationed myself behind the bag, holding it steady for her to prevent it from swinging wildly with each fierce punch.

“Go back to sleep,” she grunted between strikes.

“This woke me up. I’m a light sleeper,” I responded, my voice calm.

She paused, turning to face me with eyes full of fatigue and something darker, something wounded. “I heard what Logan told you. I knew your ultra-intelligent squad would eventually learn about it,” her voice was thick with contempt.

I just keep screwing up with this woman.

“Leora, we just wanted to—”

“To what? Find out who I was? What I was hiding?” she interrupted, her voice rising slightly as she resumed her punching with renewed vigor.

“At least now I know and I can help in case—”

“Stop, Zarek. He’s dead. And it’s not a fucking weakness. I’m completely, absolutely, one hundred percent fine. I’m a psychologist, for fuck’s sake. I just hate people knowing about it.Hate it.And you? You knowing, is more humiliating than you rejecting my kiss. What now? You want to kiss me now? Did it change your mind? Do you pity me now?” Her sequence of strikes—straight, uppercut, hook—was relentless.

I straightened my spine, holding the punching bagfirmly, meeting her fury with a steady gaze. “When I kiss you, not if,whenI fucking take that mouth of yours, Leora Mateez, it will have nothing to do with anything but me claiming you. You understand?”

The intensity of my words seemed to freeze both of us in place. I hadn’t expected to say that. Why the fuck was I giving her hope?

I saw the shock, the conflict, the defiance all flicker in her eyes. She tore away her wraps, and without another word, turned on her heel and retreated to her room.

TWELVE

Leora

“Teach me how to shoot a gun,” I declared to Logan the next morning. I didn’t want to be a sitting duck. I needed to do something. Help the squad and not be a liability to them.

“Ex-CIAs, ex-FBI, ex-NASA cybersecurity, hell, I even guarded the Pope once. We don’t need your help, Leo,” Logan retorted with a dismissive wave.

“Teach. Me. I’ve been to a shooting range before. I’ll be a good student.”

“Why?”

“I need to be able to protect myself? Is that reason good enough?”

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