Page 59 of Brawler
Her gut clenched at the grim finality in his eyes. She knew, before he even opened his mouth, that the next words would gut her.
“I’m going to have to take your laptop, your SD cards, and all your notebooks.” His voice strangled. “You can’t tell anyone about any of this.”
The world tilted.
Her heart lurched, the sound of blood roaring in her ears louder than the cicadas outside. Her laptop held everything. Months of data, meticulously logged field notes, her images ofSombra, Luz, Brío. The very marrow of her work, her PhD, her future. Without it…
This was an utter disaster.
She forced down the panic clawing at her throat, but it tasted like ashes. He knew every hour in this jungle, every page, every byte of information was a promise to her sister that she wouldn’t abandon her, not again. His duty dictated that he had to rip it from her hands with nothing more than grim necessity.
She swallowed hard, staring at him, the weight of the cave pressing in. Deep down, she knew this wasn’t cruelty. It wasn’t even personal. He was doing his job, his brutal, unforgiving job, in a place where compromise could get them all killed. She knew it. But knowing didn’t stop the devastation curdling in her chest.
This was her life. Her completion. Her doctorate. Her graduation. Years of sacrifice funneled into files he could erase with one careless order. Because of him, she wanted to be done with it. Let it all go and move on to something…
She couldn’t finish the thought. All of it was so overwhelming. She’d punished herself for so long with the wrong men, doing penance for that sweet, young girl she had been, and now that she had found a man who did things to her she’d never felt before, she was losing a huge chunk of who she was.
He released a long breath, his chest expanding with it, then reached out. She sidestepped, her boots scuffing against the stone.
His hand froze midair. For a second, just a second, his eyes flickered with something raw, a flash of hurt so quick it almost undid her. Almost.
She steeled herself against it. Against him. Against the sting of what this meant. Her brain struggled to absorb the reality, her heart tearing in two as her life was wrested from her hands into government custody.
The truth clawed through her like a blade. The man she had fallen for, the man she was sure she loved, was royally, utterly screwing her. Yet, beneath the anger and grief, she knew,God, sheknew,he had no choice. He had taken an oath, one that demanded sacrifice not just from him but from everyone in his orbit. Protecting America meant protecting its weapons, its secrets, its men. Men who had needed the SEALs more than she ever had.
This was Brawler stripped bare, not just a warrior, but one with the integrity to tell her the hard facts straight, even knowing it would devastate her academically, emotionally, personally. That kind of courage came with a cost, and today she was paying it.
She couldn’t bear to look at him, not with that knowledge raw in her chest. She turned away, needing space, needing distance. Later, she could unravel what it meant. Later, she could face the truth of who he was and what it meant for her. Not now.
Her voice broke as the tears threatened, her throat spasming around the words. “I’m just going to grab my stuff from the pool…”
She slipped behind the stone wall before he could answer. The second she was hidden, her back hit the rock and the sobs tore loose, soft and wrecked. Tears streamed hot down her cheeks, her heart breaking all over again. She muffled the sound with her fist, not willing to gut him with the sight of her crumbling, even if some of those tears were for him.
14
They setout moving at a pace, the jungle swallowing their footfalls. Every sound felt muted beneath the heavy silence between them. Her clipped words still cut at him, sharper than any blade, and the ache of it was raw. She’d made herself clear. She needed space, and yet every step beside her only deepened the hollow in his chest. The pack on his shoulders dragged heavier than it should have, her research tucked inside like contraband, every ounce of it stolen.
“This way,” she muttered without looking at him. “It’ll be faster.”
Before he could question her, she pushed forward, her small frame cutting a path through the brush with stubborn determination.
He glanced down. Beast padded at his side, ears tipped, amber eyes tracking her retreating figure. The dog gave a soft whine, the kind that carried more than sound. It was empathy. Agreement. Even Beast felt the distance, the fracture pulling between them.
Brawler exhaled through his nose, chest tight, and followed.
The trail narrowed into a punishing incline, roots slick beneath their boots, vines dragging at shoulders and packs. Heat pressed down like a living thing, every breath a wet drag through his lungs. Sweat poured, stinging his eyes, soaking the collar of his shirt until even his vest felt heavy with it. Emily kept her head down and moved fast, like she could outrun silence itself.
As they moved, he kept trying to reach Tex on comms but still got nothing but static. Now that he had an idea where that UAV and chopper had actually gone down, he was itching to get there, find out where those fuckers went, secure those missiles, and rescue the Marines.
She stumbled once, catching herself against a tree, and he had the urge to reach out, steady her. His fingers twitched but stayed at his sides. She hadn’t asked for his hand. She hadn’t asked for him at all.
By the time she finally stopped, the canopy broke enough to let in a shaft of blistering sunlight. She dropped onto a fallen log, breath sawing in and out, red hair plastered to her temple with sweat. He stayed standing, back against a tree, trying not to look like every inch of him wanted to close the gap she’d set between them.
It was more than attachment. Christ, he knew that much. He’d built his life on control, on holding everything together for others. But if it was anything like this aching, desperate need to soothe her, to make her world right, to keep her close no matter the cost…then he was already gone.
He rubbed at his temple, the pressure inside him building like a migraine he couldn’t shake. When this was over, he couldn’t imagine not seeing her again, leaving him raw and reeling.
With that thought, keeping her close, in his town, in his house, in his goddamned bed, came Toby. Always Toby. After their parents died, Brawler hadn’t just been a brother anymore.He’d been guardian, anchor, entire support system. That role had stripped away any margin for weakness. He couldn’t fall apart. Couldn’t risk letting someone in who might not understand the depth of what Toby needed.
