Page 48 of Rescuing Rebel

Urgent contract opportunity. Expertise required.”

I’m exceptionally pleased. This may have started as my idea, but I didn’t know if it would work.

“Here’s my response.Ready to assist. My team can be onsite within 24 hours.We bickered back and forth over fees and the number of personnel I insisted on bringing. Unsurprisingly, they wanted to keep it at Jeb, Stitch, and one bodyguard. I talked them up to five bodyguards. You’re taking your entire team.”

“Mitzy, you are a miracle worker.”

“I know.” She flutters her lashes, looking impish and pleased, then her eyes gleam. “Haven won’t know what hit them.”

SEVENTEEN

Ethan

The sharp reportof gunfire cleaves the air in a rapidpop-pop-pop!Charlie team trains in the kill house, prepping for our next mission. We don’t know what Haven will throw at us, but we prepare, nonetheless. I give the technical team instructions on what scenarios to prep, then set my team loose in the kill house. They have no idea what scenario they face but execute brilliantly without hesitation or error.

Jeb and Gabe are up next. They move through the rooms quickly and efficiently, clearing each room in a blur of motion, leaving no corner unchecked and no enemy left standing.

Footfalls light yet precise, their motions are economical—the mark of true professionals. Jeb pivots, weapon raised, and fires three times in quick succession around a corner. His shots punch a tight group through his target’s chest.

Gabe is on his six, steps up to clear the next room. Jeb drops back to cover the rear. After endless drills and years of fighting side-by-side, they operate like a well-oiled machine. They push forward. Focused. Methodical. They make it through the kill house in no time with a nearly perfect score.

When they emerge, I give an approving nod. “Outstanding work.”

Jeb grins. He gives Gabe a fist bump.

I turn to their teammates. “Next.”

Hank and Walt step up to run the course, but first, we debrief Jeb and Gabe’s performance. This accomplishes two things. First, immediate feedback is the best feedback. Second, it allows the technical team to reset the scenario, changing it up for each run. This is our last run-through for the day. Blake and I went first. Jeb and Gabe were next. It’s time for Hank and Walt to see if they can beat our times and accuracy.

I settle back to observe, pride welling in my chest. However dangerous this mission gets, my team has the skills to handle it.

Hank and Walt fly through their scenario with stellar marks, leaving the three two-man teams tied in the end.

After the kill house, we hit the sparring mats to unwind. Stitch, Charlie team’s honorary member, steps into the fighting ring with Jeb. Stitch is a snit, hiding her proficiency in martial arts. Like a fool, I thought her skills began and ended in the technical realm. She’s shown me how incredibly wrong it was to think that. The girl—young woman—is a firecracker.

The corner of my mouth bounces in a grin. After the first few times referring to her as a girl, she got up in my business, telling me she was agrown-ass woman who could take care of herself.

That little bounce at the corner of my mouth turns into a full grin when she faces off against Jeb. The two of them are dating. Jeb says it’s casual, but I bet it’s far more than that.

When Stitch sinks her claws into Jeb, he’s not going to know what hit him. The two stare at each other for several long seconds as if to measure each other up, then Stitch suddenly launches at Jeb.

He meets her onslaught with skill, precision, and the professionalism of a trained warrior. He strikes back with a few well-timed jabs but doesn’t go for the kill. Her lithe figure hides shocking strength as she launches a barrage of strikes—knees, elbows, fists—fast as a cobra.

It’s almost a dance—the way they move around the ring—throwing combinations and feints that neither of them land. Except Stitch manages to get around Jeb’s defenses. She clips him on the chin with an uppercut, making him stumble. From the grin on his face, Jeb doesn’t care. He’s having the time of his life. Happy to take the hit.

The air thickens as they circle each other. Jeb holds his own, using his size to power through her offense. He groans as her blow lands hard, but then he counters with a sweeping kick that sends Stitch tumbling to the mat. As good as she is, Stitch is no match for a Guardian.

The air practically crackles with the tension vibrating between them.

They reset, eyes locked, then explode into motion again. They trade blows back and forth relentlessly until a sheen of sweat coats them both. Their competitive spark flames white hot. I feel the heat from there.

Too stubborn to tap out, they’re driven by adrenaline and an undeniable chemistry burning between them.

Jeb grins like a fool, enjoying the challenge as the sparring session heats up. Sweat drips from his face as he trades blows back and forth. Every strike is like a caress, every clash of muscle and bone building up the tension between them until it’s almost unbearable. But they’re both too stubborn to give in, too driven by the adrenaline coursing through their veins. Finally, after what seems like hours, they collapse onto the mats, panting and exhausted.

“Nice workout.” Jeb’s grin is satisfied as he looks over at Stitch.

“That was fun.” Stitch returns his grin, her sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You definitely know how to make me sweat.”

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