Page 9 of Deceive Me
“Until we take him out, Elliot.”
“Not we!” she shouted, the words shaking as hard as her body. “Never we. You’re the one who pulled me into this fucking family, Dain. You’re the one who made me put down roots, made me care, damn it! And now you want me to risk you? Risk being able to protect you?” She stepped over the bench and into his space. “One person is far more agile and able to infiltrate than a team; you know that. And if you think I’ll let that fucker take one more person that I love from me, you can go to hell.”
Dain’s big hands wrapped around her biceps—to comfort her or keep her from attacking, she wasn’t sure. It worked either way. His warmth seeped into her, slowing the shaking, breaking down her anger until she could see the compassion in his expression without wanting to kick him. Or kill something with her bare hands.
Damn the man.
“We have to tell him,” he finally said.
“I can’t.” And that was the truth. In the end, the argument didn’t matter because she would never be able to get the words past her lips.
“Then I will.”
Something far too close to fear fluttered in her belly. “No. Dain…please.”
“I have to.” His hands settled on her shoulders, their weight reinforcing his authority. Elliot fought the urge to shake him off. “I’m responsible—for your life and theirs. We operate together; that’s the only way this works. We need all our information on the table. We don’t keep secrets from each other, Elliot, not when lives are at stake.”
“You already have the information, Dain. That won’t change by keeping my…parentage…a secret. But it just might if Deacon and Jack find out who I am. I’d become a security risk. They’d yank me off this case so fast your head would spin.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
Dain’s lips tightened into a thin line. Point taken.
Elliot pushed a little harder. “Too many people knowing about my relationship with Mansa means too many possibilities of a leak. It would put more people in danger and turn this into a full-blown FUBAR. We’re safer—Sydney is safer—if no one knows.” Her father had long ago given up searching for her, at least she thought so. As far as she knew, he thought she’d died with her mother, which was all the better.
Dain shook his head. “No one on our team would leak this information.”
“Not intentionally.”
The pain that washed over Dain’s expression, the loss of his hands on her shoulders felt like a blow, almost as hard as the one she’d delivered. Dain believed she didn’t trust them; he couldn’t see the truth, that she could protect them better if they trusted her. That trust would disappear, intentionally or not, once they knew Mansa was her father.
But even if she walked away, he’d still tell them—she could see it in his eyes. What other options did she have?
This feeling started up in her chest, fluttery, almost…panicked. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was fear. “Give me time.”
“Elliot.” His sigh sounded as if it came from his toes. “I can’t risk my integrity or the integrity of this team.”
“Then tell me to go,” she said quietly. “Tell me I’m done, that it’s over.” Because she didn’t have the strength to walk away on her own.
The words shook them both; she felt it down deep where she hid all the things she didn’t want to see, but even worse, she saw it in Dain’s face. Had she felt this way as she watched her mother die? When her world had exploded in a rush of fire? It had been so long she couldn’t remember. Dain and King and Saint were her whole world; could she live through their loss like she had her family’s?
Dain was silent so long she wasn’t sure what he would say. When his hand lifted to cup her cheek, she went rigid, waiting for the blow, the pain. She should’ve known better.
“Whether you leave or not has always been up to you, little Otter.” The tenderness in her call sign was almost more than she could stand. “Stay, walk away—your choice. I hope you’ll stay and fight with us, but I won’t force you.” The tension in his frame eased the slightest bit as his hand dropped back to his side. “We need you. You know we do.”
He didn’t argue further; he didn’t have to. His searing focus argued for him: Trust me. Believe in me. Live what I’ve taught you, not what the past beat into you. It will work out all right. She was letting him down, being a coward, and she knew it. His narrowed eyes watched her like a hawk, reading every nuance of expression that she couldn’t hide, right down to the burn of fucking tears at the backs of her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? First her reaction to Deacon, and now this. It had to be her damn hormones; nothing else would ever make her cry.
She couldn’t trust her voice not to wobble like a little girl’s, so she nodded instead.
Dain didn’t rub in the victory. “You might have a point about Jack removing you from the case. We can’t chance that—we need the information you can give us about your father.”
The hated title caused her breath to catch.
“But I do think we can compromise. What about you?”
“How?”
