Whatever was forming between us had roots now.
As the tremors subsided, neither of us moved to break apart.
“Tell me what happened,” I said finally. “How did you find me?”
He stiffened slightly, and when he spoke, his voice had changed—became more measured, as if he was trying to distance himself from the memory. I opened my eyes, looking up at him.
“I accessed the facility beneath Café Bella. Disabled security systems. Created diversions using emergency protocols.” The words came mechanically, like a mission report.
His hand, still entwined with mine, tightened unconsciously. The contrast between his clinical reporting and physical response told me everything.
“The medical wing was…” His voice faltered, gaze shifting. “The antiseptic smell hit me first. That smell that never leaves you.” He stopped completely, jaw tightening. I watched his pupils dilate, his breathing pattern shifting. “It was like being back there myself,” he said finally. “Every detail was exactly the same. The light. The equipment. The restraints.”
His hand moved unconsciously to his own wrist, fingers circling the spot where restraints would have been.
“I saw you there,” he said, dropping all pretense of tactical reporting. “And something broke inside me.” He looked down at his hands. “I killed everyone in that room except Brock. Not because it was tactically sound, but because they were hurting you.”
The admission hung between us. In another life, I might have been horrified. Now, I only felt a terrible understanding.
“There were twelve of them,” he continued. “Medical staff. Guards. I remember their faces. I remember making each decision. But it wasn’t calculated. It was...”
“Instinct,” I finished for him. “To protect.”
His eyes met mine, surprised. “Yes.”
“When they had me strapped down,” I said slowly, “I kept thinking about you. Not Xavier. You.” The confession cost me, but he deserved to hear it. “I was more afraid of never seeing you again than of what they were doing to me.”
Something raw and vulnerable crossed his face. His hand lifted to my cheek, a touch so gentle it was barely there. His thumb caressed my cheek, and I leaned into his palm, my eyes closing briefly at the contact.
When I opened them again, he watched me with an intensity that made my breath catch. The controlled assassin was gone, replaced by a man fighting his way back to humanity—through me.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, fighting the exhaustion dragging at me. “About Xavier—they call him Blackout now. And about Oblivion.”
His expression sharpened. “Oblivion?”
“That’s what Brock called their organization. The one behind the Marionette Project.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, weighted with importance. “Xavier is completely conditioned. He didn’t even recognize me.”
Reaper’s face hardened. “We’ll find him. We’ll bring him back.”
I wanted to believe him, but exhaustion was winning. “How?” I managed.
“The same way you’re bringing me back,” he said, voice low and certain. “One memory at a time.”
I wanted to believe that was possible, but given their improvements to his program…No, don’t think about that,I scolded myself internally. Ihadto hold onto hope. It was the last thing I had left. Without it, I had nothing to hope for when it came to saving my brother. Darkness crept at the edges of my vision. I felt myself slipping toward unconsciousness, and panic surged through me—irrational and overwhelming. My hand clutched his.
“Stay,” I whispered, hating the vulnerability but too tired to mask it. “Just until I fall asleep.”
I expected him to pull away with some tactical reason why he needed to check the perimeter. Instead, his eyes softened in a way I’d never seen before.
He shifted to lie beside me, movements measured to avoid jostling the IV line. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as I was drawn against him, my head finding the hollow of his shoulder.
“Sleep,” he murmured, his lips brushing my forehead. “I’ve got you.”
I wanted to tell him that was what terrified me—how quickly he’d become my definition of safety. But as his fingers traced gentle patterns against my spine, the darkness pulled me under before I could form the words.
Chapter 17
Maeve
