Page 52 of Assassin's Game
The problem was, even if my mind would let it go, which it wouldn’t, my body couldn’t forget. It had been a long, tense day. Then Rhys. Everything had gone to hell.
And there had been Eli, right in front of me. Telling me to let it all go. Telling me I didn’t need to be perfect. I sure as hell did. I kept my team alive by being perfect, just like my dad had done.
Don’t let me down, Mikaela.
And I hadn’t. But today…
Today has been a shit show—and I’d forgotten every bit of it the minute my lips touched Eli Agozi.
The resident playboy. And no wonder. The man was certainly experienced enough to accomplish what usually took me twice as long all by myself. I’d kissed him and had an orgasm five minutes later. What the hell?
I was pacing the room, trying to put my armor back together, steel myself for running into Eli in the hall—because I was now desperate for that shower, to wash the scent and feel of him from my body—when a buzz in my pocket drew my attention to my phone. Only one person needed to call to get in touch with me: Maris.
Sure enough, her name popped up on the screen. I clicked to accept the call so fast I almost fumbled the phone. “What’s wrong?”
Maris chuckled. “Hello to you too, sis.”
Even as tangled as I felt, the sound of her voice tempted me to smile. “It’s one in the fucking morning—or thereabouts. You wouldn’t be calling me if something wasn’t up.”
She didn’t answer me directly, just asked, “Everything went okay tonight?”
“Of course.”
Maybe the millisecond of hesitation clued her in, I don’t know. But the long silence that met my answer had me squeezing my eyes shut. This was why I hadn’t called earlier. I was as skilled as the guys at controlling the intonations in my voice, but that didn’t matter with Maris. A pause, break, some change in my tone not audible to the normal human ear—whatever it was, my sister could sense a lie a mile away when it came to me, by intention as well as omission.
“What happened?” she asked finally.
“Everything really is fine.”Now.
“Mikaela”—her sigh hit my heart through the phone speaker—“am I part of this team or not?”
“You know you are.”
My answer was fierce, but not enough. “Then lying to me shouldn’t happen.”
If one of the men were stuck miles from an op with no way to get to us, I’d skimp on details too. But this wasn’t just details—and she was right; I shouldn’t hold it back. “Rhys and Monty were hit at Sullivan’s house.”
Her “What?” nearly blew my eardrum.
“They’re okay now, but…” I cringed, knowing I had to go all the way but dreading the reaction I’d get.
“But what?”
“But Rhys was hit with a dose of ketamine. Monty took care of him,” I rushed to say, “and we’ve got him back at the warehouse. He’s breathing fine, sleeping it off.”
Maris’s deep breath hurt. She didn’t allow herself to cry anymore—it made her weak, she said. Or weaker. In a team built on strength as much as love, at least at first, she’d always seen being emotional as a fragility she had to bury. But I could sense the emotion she refused to release, in only her breath.
“Are you absolutely sure he’ll be okay?”
I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms. “He already is. I promise. Monty took good care of him.”
We were quiet for a minute. Finally, sensing she’d accepted my answer, I asked, “Why did you call, Maris?” It wasn’t to see how the op went, or not only for that. I heard fabric shifting—sheets. “They are treating you nice, right?”
“They are.” But the hesitation in her voice told me something wasn’t right. “I like them a lot, Mikaela. The women—you’ve always told me I didn’t have to be a badass warrior, but I’ve never seen what that might look like. Leah is a nurse; her skills are valuable even if they aren’t fighting. And Abby…”
Levi’s face as he’d raced from the room sprang into my mind. “How is she doing?”
Maris made a noise in her throat—doubt, uncertainty, worry. “I have a bad feeling about things.”
