Page 79 of Stealthy Seduction
“And you dragged Dante into your personal crusade.”
“That was my choice,” Dante interjected from his corner of the table. “Nobody dragged me anywhere.”
Con’s gaze shifted between them, and Steele could practically see the disciplinary calculations happening behind his eyes. In a regular military unit, this would mean dishonorable discharge or possible criminal charges.
But the Blackout teams operated in the spaces between policy and the good of the brotherhood. Their first duty was to their country, but often the lines were blurred when it came to protecting each other.
Yes, Steele had operated in his own interest. Though what he’d done by injuring the terrorist felt like a victory. He’d spilled Cipher’s blood. That had to be a win for Blackout.
The question was whether Con saw it the same way.
“Two months of bathroom duty,” Con said finally, his voice ringing with official judgment. He sliced a look at Dante. “Take Dante with you.”
His teammate gave a light shake of his head, his shoulders slumped in resignation.
Steele firmed his jaw. “Yes, sir.”
“All the bathrooms.”
“Understood.”
“And the kitchen.”
“Copy that.”
“And the pool area.”
“Roger.”
“I’m starting you at two months of punishment, but I can always add on more if you test me.”
Dante made a sound that might have been a stifled groan, but Steele felt nothing but relief washing through him. Cleaning duty. Two months of scrubbing toilets and mopping floors in exchange for Izzy’s life and his continued place on the team. It was the bargain of the century.
“Understood, sir,” he said. “We’ll get started immediately.”
Con’s expression softened slightly. “For the record, the shot you took was exemplary. Four hundred thirty meters, crosswind, moving target with a hostage in close proximity. I couldn’t have made it.”
He swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got sixty days of explaining to your girlfriend why you smell like industrial disinfectant.”
Steele couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his mouth. “I think she’ll understand.”
Twenty minutes later, he and Dante stood outside the first bathroom on their punishment rotation, armed with rubber gloves and enough cleaning supplies to sterilize a small hospital.
Knowing the state of the base bathrooms, they’d need it.
The door bore a handwritten sign that read “Property of Chase and Chickie - Enter at Your Own Risk.”
“Two months won’t be so bad.”
“Is it worth it though?” Dante pulled on his gloves with the resigned air of a man facing a very unpleasant afternoon. “I’ll tell you right now, Steele—I’m not doing the second floor. The single guys’ bathrooms are absolutely disgusting.”
Steele considered the question seriously. Sixty days of cleaning duty seemed a small price to pay to clear his record and fix the damaged relationship with Con and the team.
At the end of the day, Izzy was safe, and that made everything else worth it.
She was upstairs in their room, alive and unharmed because he’d chosen her over orders, over protocol, over everything he’d been trained to prioritize.
