Page 74 of Duty Devoted
“Gentlemen.” Ethan’s expression softened slightly. “Again, excellent work. Despite everything that went sideways, you brought everyone home breathing. That’s what matters.”
The screen went dark.
“Myanmar?” Ty tossed the Sig onto the table with more force than necessary. “What is this, emotional whiplash bingo? You trying to hit every shithole on the map before Christmas?”
“It’s what I do.”
“It’s what you hide behind.”
I stood, exhaustion and adrenaline making my movements sharp. “You got something to say?”
“Yeah, I do.” He faced me fully, chin up like he was daring me to take a swing. “You’ve got something real right upstairs. Something that doesn’t come along every mission. And you’re bailing because feelings are scarier than bullets.”
“I’m being practical.”
“You’re being a coward.”
My fist connected with his jaw before conscious thought kicked in. Classic hook, all shoulder and hip rotation. Ty’s head snapped back, and he stumbled into the coffee table, sending weapons sliding.
“Logan!” Jace jumped between us, hands raised. “Jesus, what the hell?”
Ty touched his lip, checking for blood. Then he laughed—actually laughed, the crazy bastard. “There he is. There’s the guy who fights for what matters.”
Shame flooded through me, hot and sick. Exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. Violence as communication. Fists because words were too hard.
“I’m sorry.” The apology scraped my throat raw. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“Probably had it coming.” Ty straightened, rolling his shoulder. “Been needling you since you walked in. But my point stands. Running to Myanmar won’t change what happened in Corazón.”
“Nothing happened in Corazón.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, pressing it to his jaw. “But when you’re sitting in some jungle, wondering what she’s doing, wondering if she’s thinking about you—remember this moment. Remember you had a choice.”
I headed for the door, needing space, needing air, needing to be anywhere but here with their judgment and their understanding.
“It’s not too late to make this right,” Jace called after me.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The hallway stretched ahead, identical doors leading to identical rooms full of people living identical temporary lives. Never staying anywhere long enough for the marks to be permanent.
That was what I needed to remember. The bruises on Lauren’s arm weren’t unique. But she was. And that’s exactly why I had to go.
Distance was the only kindness I had left to offer.
So, I’d take it. Get on that plane. Find another jungle where the mission parameters were clear and the only person I could hurt was myself or some bad guys.
The elevator arrived with its polite chime, and I stepped inside. As the doors closed, I caught my reflection in the polished steel.
I looked exactly like what I was. A man who knew how to leave before the leaving got harder.
Chapter 24
Lauren
The fluorescent lightshummed above me, that particular frequency that only hospital lighting seemed to achieve—somewhere between a whisper and a migraine.
I’d been staring at the same patient chart for twenty minutes, the words blurring together into meaningless medical jargon. Mrs. Anderson, sixty-seven, presenting with chest pain that turned out to be acid reflux. Prescribed a proton pump inhibitor. Follow up in two weeks.
Straightforward. Simple. Nothing like the complicated cases I’d handled in Corazón with limited resources and infinite creativity. Here, everything had a protocol, a proper procedure, a pharmaceutical solution. Clean. Sterile. Empty.
