Wordlessly, he dropped to a seat and braced himself for what else was coming that he wouldn’t like.
After Con gave Izzy a nod to go on, she resumed the call with her producer.
It was over within minutes, and he was right—he didn’t like it.
Steele’s lips firmed along with the rest of his muscles. “He just gave you an assignment to attend a protest.”
She nodded.
“A protest seems like the worst possible place for Izzy.” He was watching Con’s face and already guessed that his CO was behind the suggestion.
Izzy was quiet, composed. Thumb tucked.
But as soon as she lifted her stare to Steele’s, he saw the undercurrent in the depths of her eyes. She knew the danger.
He had to tread carefully or he’d be sidelined like last time.
“Requesting permission to act as Izzy’s PPO.” No one could be a better personal protection officer. “Whatever surveillance setup you’re running, I’m part of it.”
Con studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Done. But you follow orders without question, and you keep your personal feelings out of tactical decisions.”
“Copy that.”
Izzy looked between the two men, something unreadable flickering in her amber eyes. After a long minute, she pushed to her feet with fluid grace. “I need to shower and change. If I’m going to get this story, I should probably look the part.”
She headed for the door but paused to glance back at Steele once before she disappeared from view.
Steele waited a full minute to ensure she was out of earshot before meeting Con’s assessing stare.
His CO got straight to the point. “What’s your endgame here, Steele?”
The question was too casual not to carry any weight.
“Keep Izzy safe.”
“And after that?”
The words stuck in his throat for a moment, the honest answer feeling too big, too dangerous to voice. But Con’s stare was relentless, and Steele found himself speaking before he could think better of it.
“I guess it’s Izzy.”
“You guess?” Con’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re going to blow everything up on this team, you can’t do it for an ‘I guess.’”
He didn’t guess. He knew. The force of his emotions was a hot blast through his system.
Con leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve seen good operatives fall apart because they couldn’t compartmentalize. The risk is too great when you have someone you care about in the line of fire.”
“I can handle it.”
“Can you? Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a man who’s about two seconds away from going rogue to protect a woman.”
The assessment was brutal in its accuracy. Steele had always been the easygoing one on the team—steady, reliable, the guy who could be counted on to keep his cool when everything went to shit. But sitting here now, knowing Izzy was about to walk back into Cipher’s crosshairs, he felt anything but steady.
She’d gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had, reached places in him he’d thought were permanently sealed off after he signed his Blackout papers. And the idea of losing her—watching her get hurt because he’d failed to protect her—made something violent and frantic claw at his chest.
“Never thought it was for me,” he admitted quietly. “Love, relationships, all that. Figured it was for other people, people who had safer jobs and more predictable lives. But her…” He shook his head. “She’s different.”
“Different how?”
