Page 57 of Rescuing Rebel

“We stay on mission.” I keep my voice firm. It’s a calculated risk. “Keep a low profile until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Her rescue in Nicaragua doesn’t match up to her being on the other side now. What if she’s hiding something? We planned too long for this shot at Haven.

“She protected you from the guards, kept quiet that she knew you.” CJ’s tone turns thoughtful. “It could mean she has her reasons for being there.”

My palms sweat at the thought of confronting her again. “I wouldn’t say she protected me. She handed me over fast enough.”

“But that’s it. If she turned you in as a Guardian, that would be one thing. She just told them you were bothering her. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if she blew your cover. You’d already be—”

“Dead. Yeah, don’t tell me.” I nod slowly, mind spinning at the implications.

“Tread carefully, but find her angle. Get her to keep your covers intact, at least for now.” His voice hardens. “Finish this mission. Get out.”

I swallow hard. “Understood.”

“Watch yourself with Rebel. Don’t get played this time.” His blunt words twist like a knife to the gut.

“I learned that lesson last time.” I spit out the bitter words. The shame of how she duped me still gnaws at me.

“We all make mistakes when emotions are involved, but you’re wiser now. Hardened. You’ve earned your place leading this team.”

I release a slow breath, letting his trust temper my churning emotions. I won’t fail him, or my men, again.

“Dig quietly into Rebel’s motives. Keep it professional,” CJ advises, more gently than before.

“Copy that. I’ll report back when I know more.”

“Take no prisoners. CJ out.”

Rebel’s presence changes everything, but CJ is right. Something doesn’t add up.

“Boss?” Walt speaks for the rest of the team. “What’s the play?”

“We stay the course for now. Too much depends on the intel we can rip from Haven’s grasp.” My fists clench involuntarily.

After months of questions, she’s within reach. Every instinct screams to confront her and demand answers. Yet, one misstep could ruin everything.

Discovering why Rebel is here, while important, is not my mission. Eyes on the prize, I have to stick to the mission. Yet even as I make that promise, traitorous memories of emerald eyes, fiery hair, and searing kisses threaten my composure.

CJ’s final words linger. This mission calls for ruthlessness and clarity; I thought I possessed that focus until Rebel returned to blur the lines.

With the call to CJ ended, Hank's whistle cuts through the tension like a knife. “Daaayumn, didn’t see that coming.”

The door to the comms room crashes open. Slowly, I turn to face the phantom from my past.

Rebel.

Her emerald eyes blaze with cold fury, jaw clenched so tight the delicate cord in her neck pulses. Her floral perfume curls insidiously around me, pulling up memories better left buried.

She stalks closer, lithe as a panther, until we’re nearly chest to chest.

My team tenses, ready to back me if needed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her voice is razor-sharp and scrapes against my nerves. Her gaze flicks to my teammates, pauses on Stitch, then returns to me with emerald fire burning in the depths of her eyes.

I cross my arms, pulse racing. “I could ask you the same thing.”

We trade bitter words. With each verbal jab, the guys shift restlessly, eager to jump in. I catch Hank’s eye and shake my head, holding them back. This is between me and her.

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