Page 54 of Deadly Force
I pray for discipline, for control, but the second I catch a flicker of movement in the mirror above the sink, a shoulder, bare skin, my breath stalls completely.
"You can turn around now," she says. I do. Slowly. Try to focus on the job at hand, on Mateo, on anything but the way she's looking at me. "Brooke, please... drop this. Go stay with Mick or your folks. Let me find him."
She holds my gaze. “I can’t do that.”
Of course she can’t. Quitting isn’t in her DNA.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just watches me. Lips parted, color high in her cheeks, eyes fixed on mine like I didn’t almost fail her. Like I didn’t almost lose her.
And I know if I let this slip past, it’ll haunt me forever—right above not being there when Mateo took the hit.
So I move.
One step, and she’s in my arms. My hand fitsagainst her waist, the other cradles the back of her neck, and I kiss her. Not because it’s safe. Not because I’ve thought it through. Because I have to.
It’s hard, unsteady, all the things I can’t say. Her gasp jolts through me, and she clings back—fists curling in my shirt, pulling me closer until there’s no air left between us.
I lift her without hesitation, muscle and instinct carrying the weight. The gurney groans as I lower her down, but she doesn’t release me. Her legs lock tight around my hips. Her arms wrap my shoulders like she’s afraid letting go might break the spell. Her mouth finds mine again, urgent, trembling, alive.
Her heartbeat kicks against my chest, frantic, syncing with my own until I can’t tell where hers ends and mine begins. Her skin is warm beneath my hands, her breath hot against my lips, every shiver of hers running straight through me.
No space. No pause. No distance left to protect.
She’s alive. And for this fierce, reckless moment, she’s mine.
THIRTEEN
Brooke
I barely have time to catch my breath before Caleb ends the most intense kiss I've ever experienced. My lips still feel bruised. My pulse still thrums too fast. There's a fluttering tightness in my chest I can't quite name, something between awe and panic.
What is wrong with me? I amnotthe sort of person who engages in sizzling kisses in a hospital room.
My legs feel unsteady, like I might melt right into the polished floor if he weren't walking beside me.
We stop outside Mateo's room. Caleb opens the door quietly, his hand on the small of my back, reassuring, protective, and possessive in a way that's proof we've already crossed the line. The warmth of his palm through my shirt makes me shiver, and I have to resist the urge to lean into him.
Mateo's out cold. Flat on his back, breathing slow and even, one arm in a sling, the other tangled in wires and tubing. His skin is pale, his mouth slack. The drugs are doing their job. I don't know if I'm relieved or heartsick.
Samantha has positioned herself near the head of the bed, arms folded, gaze fixed on the monitors like she can will him better just by watching hard enough. She smiles when she sees me. "You have a cute home."
I pull her into a hug, which she returns a little awkwardly. "This is why you and Mick have been so cagey with me."
She gives a sheepish shrug and gestures to Mateo. "Doctor says he'll be under for hours. I can stay for as long as you need me."
Caleb nods. "Thanks. For hustling. You were great back there. All your hard work is paying off."
She offers him a small smile, genuine and shy. A far cry from the hardened con woman I met in the Everglades.
She's changed. And she's going to be part of our family. Soon, if my brother has anything to say about it.
I shift my weight, suddenly unsure what to do with myself. Everyone has a role to play except for me.
Eliza is dead. Mateo’s been shot, and I'm just...kissing Caleb? I smooth my hair self-consciously, wondering if I look as rattled as I feel.
"I want to help," I say. "There has to be something I can do."
Caleb's eyes meet mine, and his mouth quirks up. “If a job opening comes up, I'll let you know.”
