Beau matches my frustration, and it always looks strange on his face. Like they aren’t muscles he ever exercises.
“So learn the damn language, Dom. It’s not that hard. You just need to get over your shit and actually open up for once.” He stops, then breathes in, and it’s the labored kind of breath someone takes after catching a bullet. When he continues, he’s forced the calm back into his voice, “You need to make up your mind. Either you’re all in, or you’re all out.”
My muscles lock up as I realize what this is. “An ultimatum? You’re really giving me a fucking ultimatum?”
Hasn’t he been listening? We need to do things differently this time. Not just throw ourselves in headfirst and miraculously expect a different outcome. Justget over it?
Fucking. How?
If I knew what I was doing, this wouldn’t be a problem in the first place. And trying to figure it out now, with all the rest of the shit we’re dealing with, seems impossible.
I don’t want to hurt her, and going all in now before I’ve worked out what the hell I’m doing seems like the quickest way for me to fuck everything up again. It was good talking to her today. Flirting. The pressure was off, and I just got to enjoy it. She even talked to me about the others—about herfeelings.
Why can’t I just start here? Why can’t we just find our own way to this?
Why is it always Beau’s way or the highway?
And why can’t I say any of that without him shutting down and walking out, every fucking time?
Finally, Beau sighs. He walks over to me slowly, and then he grips my arm. There’s a sad, bitter set to his mouth now. The anger has simmered down behind his eyes.
It’s worse than anger.
He looks resigned.
“You know, I never got it before. How you could back away from The Plan like you did—that something ever felt more important than that. But I get it now.” He smiles, but it’s full of glass and it’s sharp enough to cut. “I love her, Dom. Eden deserves everything. She deserves to feel safe and loved. I can’t keep being your emotional crutch, and I don’t want you hurting her. Or me when you mess it up.”
Beau squeezes my arm. It feels like he’s got my heart in his fist instead.
I wonder if he can feel the blood leaking between his fingers.
“I think we need to take a break. You do whatever you have to with Heather. I need to focus on Eden. Figure out how to do this properly, without you.”
Without me.
I watch Beau leave without a word and sink into Jasper’s chair, my head in my hands. My mind swings to movie night.
There’s not going tobea movie night. No whiskey. No shy smiles. No overinflated action sequences we can pick over, trying to work out the best way to actually shoot a helicopter out of the sky.
There’s no reprieve. Just more problems.
“Uhhhhhhh. So! Bad timing, sounds like, but I do have news.” Bentley’s booming voice crackles over the HAM radio, and my head snaps up.
The red light is on, and it suddenly registers that I opened the transmissionbeforethat fucked-up little heart-to-heart. It’s not a secure line. Anyone could have heard that.Samcould have heard that.
“Let me know if you need another minute,” he prompts. “Heavy, that. I’ve been known asquitethe romantic, though.Greatat giving advice. All you really need to get someone to fall in love with you is one starry night, a tarp, three eggs, a violinist, and alotof lube—works every time.”
I grab the mic. “You said you had news?”
I sound clipped and rude as fuck, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
“That I do.” There’s a shuffle on the other end, and there’s a distorted whine before it settles. “First up, we have people watching the Den. Thought it might interest you that Alastair and the pretty one, Mateo, walked back through their gates two days ago.”
I only just stop myself from smacking the mic against my forehead.
I expected it, but the confirmation is still brutal. Two Navy fucking SEALs helping the enemy tanks our already shitty odds badly.
Bentley clears his throat. “You sound like you’ve had a rough day, so I won’t call you a brainless moron for letting them escape.”