Page 57 of Hidden Attraction

As they crossed the courtyard toward the detention facility, Chase felt the weight of the day settle on him. The pull between what they were chasing and what he was feeling for Alyssa tightened around his chest like a noose.

He thought about last night—the way her body had moved against his, the way she’d touched him like he mattered. Like he wasn’t just another weapon pointed at an enemy. He thought about how, even now, a part of him wanted nothing more than to grab her hand, promise her things he had no business promising.

But there was no space for promises here.

Only the mission.

Only the war waiting just beyond the wire.

They reached the brig. Two guards stepped aside at the commander’s nod, and Chase and Alyssa were ushered into a concrete-walled room with a single cot and a small table with a straight-backed chair. Barely better than civilian prisons.

He waved a hand at Thorne, gesturing for him to open the door and allow them inside. Thorne paused but reached for a set of keys hooked on his uniform.

Before they stepped into that space with the man responsible for taking down the chopper carrying all of his brothers-in-arms, Alyssa put a hand on his arm.

“You’re too close to this situation. I want to question him.”

He stilled. He could break anyone…including the bastard who might be responsible for that crash.

But maybe she was right.

He felt himself nod before he made up his mind.

There wasn’t any other person in the world he would hand over the control to.

* * * * *

Specialist Hyde sat on the cot. At their entrance, he looked up at the commander. Then his attention slid to Julian and Alyssa, his eyes darting nervously between them.

The commander moved off, leaving them alone with the man he’d held in connection to that terrible tragedy years ago.

Julian closed the door behind him with a quietsnick, then stepped forward into the dim light.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. Just let the silence stretch until Hyde squirmed.

Alyssa pulled out a chair and sat across from the man—or kid. The guy was young, early twenties. Probably stationed on this base right out of bootcamp.

Julian stared down at the guy. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two, sir.”

“Jesus. You probably didn’t even have hair on your balls when the chopper crash happened.”

Hyde stiffened at mention of the crash. He sat rigidly on the cot while Julian went to lean against the wall, staring at him with the same cold look he’d stared at Alyssa with the day she was questioned by Blackout command.

She darted a look at him, saw his barely perceptible nod to begin the questioning, and moved to the only chair in the prison cell.

“How long have you been in the brig?” Her voice surprised her. It wasn’t the usual tone she used when negotiating with ambassadors, or terrorists years before that.

Her voice sounded low and lethal, not her own.

She realized that she was carrying Julian’s weight on her shoulders. The pain and guilt he bore from being the only survivor on Echo team.

She gathered herself and folded her hands on the table. “Let’s start simple,” she said. “You don’t want to die for someone who doesn’t care if you rot in this cell.”

Hyde swallowed hard, and he clasped his trembling hands together.

Julian crossed his arms over his chest, the weight of everything—the mission, the fury at losing his whole team—settled in his stare.

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