Page 69 of The Scout

“Ryker—”

“Isabel.” The way he said my name sent a slow, curling shiver down my spine. Not unkind, but firm. Absolute.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to demand he tell me what was happening, why he suddenly had that lethallook in his eyes. But I knew him well enough now to understand that he wouldn’t budge. Whatever had just come through on that phone, whatever had made him shut down like that—it wasn’t something he was willing to share.

Not yet.

He strode to the door, yanking it open, pausing just long enough to glance back at me.

“I’ll be back when I can.” His voice was gruff, his expression unreadable. “Stay put.”

And then he was gone.

The heavy click of the door shutting behind him echoed through the room, leaving me standing there, my pulse still thrumming with unease.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as I turned away.

Fine. If he wanted me to stay put, I would.

For now.

I wandered through Dominion Hall, the grand corridors sprawling around me, sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. The place was breathtaking—imposing yet elegant, built for power but laced with undeniable beauty.

My footsteps were quiet against the marble, my fingers trailing absently along the intricate wood paneling as I walked.

I let my mind drift to Will, to the life he had chosen, to the risks he had accepted as part of his reality. My brother had never been the kind of person to sit still. He had needed action, purpose, something bigger than himself to fight for. The military had given him that.

Charleston was a military city, through and through. It was in the bones of this place—the old forts, the bases, the steady presence of uniformed men and women moving through the streets. But I had always feltdistanced from it. It was something I respected but didn’t truly understand.

I thought of the massive Navy destroyer I had once seen docked in the harbor, its steel-gray hull rising high against the skyline, a silent, powerful guardian of the coast. I remembered watching cargo planes take off from the Air Force base near the airport, their engines roaring as they carried who-knew-what to who-knew-where. These things had always felt like background noise, part of the fabric of the city but not part of my world.

Now, it was personal.

Now, my brother was missing, and the only men capable of finding him were men like Ryker. Men who had lived and breathed that world of war and danger.

I sighed, shaking off the thought as I found myself in the courtyard, the sun warm against my skin. The pool shimmered in the midday light, the water still and inviting.

The thought of slipping into that water made my body stir, made my mind flash back to the last time I had been in there with Ryker, his hands gripping my hips, his body pressing me into the stone, his teeth scraping my skin as he?—

I swallowed hard, pressing my thighs together.

God.

I should not have been getting turned on right now. I was becoming insatiable. Ryker was making me that way.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair, telling myself I was just restless. Bored. Nothing more.

And then—my phone rang.

The sound jolted me back to the present, my stomach tightening as I pulled it from my pocket.

Micah Washington.

My boss.

I hesitated for half a second before swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

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