TEN
With one hand on Izzy’s back, Steele propelled her through the back door of the Blackout Charlie base. Updates from his team channeled into his ear in rapid blasts.
Her steps were unsteady, shock making them disjointed and mechanical, but she didn’t falter as he ushered her toward the war room.
And to think he’d really believed that being Izzy’s sound guy at a peaceful healthcare rally would be a boring job. Nothing concerning Izzy was boring.
This was all the more reason why he couldn’t have a relationship with her. She had enough trauma, and being with him would only heap on more.
The war room doors were already open as they approached. Con’s tall form was braced in the opening as he coordinated their team’s response to what could only be called a catastrophic security breach.
The man’s expression was grim as he watched them approach, but Steele caught the flash of relief in Con’s eyes when he realized they were safe.
They cleared the doors and Steele guided her to the closest chair. As if out of nowhere, Kennedy appeared at Izzy’s side and pressed a steaming mug into Izzy’s trembling hands.
“Chamomile tea,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of gentle authority that reminded him that she had firsthand experience with trauma.
Izzy cradled the mug without speaking, gripping it like it was a lifeline.
Steele glanced up from her just as several of his teammates barreled through the door. Chairs scraped back and Con moved into his usual position at the front of the room.
“We’ve got a lot to figure out and not a lot of time to do it.”
Unable to think about sitting down when adrenaline still pulsed hard and fast through his veins, Steele shifted to stand behind Izzy, his fingers curling around the back of her chair. He expected to feel the warmth of her body seep into his fingers, but it never did.
In fact, she was shaking badly.
He whipped off his thick outer layer and draped it around her shoulders. She turned her head toward him in acknowledgement but didn’t speak.
The loose curls shook around her face as if there was a breeze. A strong urge to pick her up and hold her in his lap barreled through him.
But he couldn’t do that. Not yet.
Mason and Dante joined the group and sat upright, all business. Seconds behind their arrival came the tap of female shoes on the marble floor.
Sophie strode in with Alyssa right behind her. A second later, May joined them. All the ladies tossed concerned looks at Izzy but didn’t attempt to question her about her ordeal.
Some of the adrenaline leeched from his system. He drew out the chair beside her and sank onto it, settling a hand on her knee. She huddled deeper into his coat and continued to tremble.
Leaning closer, he pitched his voice low. “Try to sip some of the tea, honey. It will warm you.”
Kennedy returned with a throw blanket looped over her arm. She brought it over to Izzy. Steele took it with a nod of thanks and spread it over her lap, tucking it around her thighs.
He was totally aware of how everyone watched her. As if they would throw themselves in the line of fire to protect her. But his reasons had to do with the way she made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Like maybe he wasn’t just a ghost.
With a single sweeping glance around the room, Con brought the meeting to order. Then his gaze centered on Izzy. “Before we start, how are you doing, Izzy?”
“Not great. Thanks for asking.” Izzy’s laugh was hollow and edged with hysteria. “Do you have any idea what it took for me to heal after Syria? I tried everything—talk therapy, journaling. Women’s weekends in the mountains. Meditation. Ayahuasca ceremonies in Peru! I didshroomsin Costa Rica! I went to a retreat center that specialized in equine therapy.”
She started tapping each finger as she named a new therapy. “I tried acupuncture, reiki,sound baths. And I’m not gonna lie, the baby goat yoga was actually fun, but there aren’t enough baby goats in theworldto fix what just happened out there!”
She set the mug down with shaking hands, her voice growing smaller. “This is a lot. And it’s all coming back to me—everything I worked so hard to overcome. I thought Syria was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. But this…” Her voice cracked. “Why does some guy in a creepy LED mask want me dead?”
Steele’s stare flashed to Con. His leader held his gaze as they battled silently with who would tell her.
After a long heartbeat, he dropped his gaze to the table, but his jaw tightened until it popped as he waited for the words to come.
“I told you it really is connected to Syria.”
