After he slipped her into the passenger seat, he searched her eyes with so much love glowing in his eyes that her heart skittered.
“When we get back, I need you to go to our room. Wait for me while I handle things with Con and the team.”
Izzy nodded, but she could see it in his eyes—the knowledge that whatever came next, their brief moment of happiness was about to be tested in ways neither of them was prepared for.
SIXTEEN
Izzy’s hand was warm in Steele’s, their fingers interlaced. He held on to the moment of peace he felt at getting her back. Safe.
But he knew that the peace was going to shatter the minute they walked through the door of the Blackout base and he had to face not only his CO but all of his brothers that he’d let down.
He was the rock of the team. Nothing shook him.
Until Izzy came along.
Now he was holding his breath, waiting for everything to go sideways.
The moment they were inside, she remembered what he asked of her. She turned and kissed him with desperate intensity, her hands framing his face like she was trying to memorize the feeling of his skin beneath her palms. It lasted maybe five seconds, but in those heartbeats he tasted relief and gratitude…and something he hoped to fuck wasn’t goodbye.
“I have to go handle things,” he said quietly when they broke apart.
She nodded, understanding flickering in her amber eyes. “I’ll be in our room.”
Our room.
The words hit him squarely in the chest, a reminder of what he’d fought to protect and what he might have jeopardized in the process. He watched her disappear up the stairs, her posture straight despite everything she’d been through.
A heat that had everything to do with the woman who’d just called his bedroom theirs settled in his chest.
Then reality kicked in, and he turned toward the supply closet.
The cleaning supplies were where they’d always been—industrial-strength disinfectant, rubber gloves, scrub brushes and a yellow mop bucket that had seen better days.
Steele loaded everything into the bucket with the methodical precision he did with everything. He already knew his punishment. He just hoped it was enough.
This wasn’t punishment in the traditional sense; it was reintegration. A way to demonstrate that despite his rogue decision, he was still part of the team, still willing to accept the hierarchy that kept them all alive.
The war room’s lights were on when he approached, armed with the bucket in one hand and the rubber gloves tucked under his arm. Through the partially open door, he could hear the low murmur of voices—his teammates discussing the aftermath of a one-man op that had gone both completely wrong and entirely right, depending on your perspective.
He entered without waiting for permission.
The room fell quiet. Con sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable in the way that meant he was either planning Steele’s court-martial or his commendation. Chase, Mason, and Chickie occupied their usual seats, their faces a mixture of relief and concern. Dante sat slightly apart from the others, looking like a man who knew he was about to face the music for his own choices.
“Special Operative Hudson Steele reporting, Commanding Officer.” He set the bucket down with a soft thud that seemed to echo in the silence.
“Cipher got away,” Con said without preamble.
“Yes, sir. Target was wounded but mobile. Lost the trail after approximately fifty meters.”
“You don’t miss, Steele. We know why you took that high shoulder shot. How badly is he hurt?”
“Hit him in the clavicle, probably damaged the subclavian artery based on the blood loss pattern. He’ll need medical attention within six to eight hours or risk bleeding out.” Steele kept his voice professional, clinical. “But he’ll live long enough to activate those contingencies he mentioned.”
Con nodded grimly. “And you decided that taking matters into your own hands was worth the risk of global terrorism?”
The question hung in the air like smoke after an explosion. Steele met his commander’s stare directly.
“I decided that leaving Izzy in the hands of a psychopath wasn’t an acceptable outcome, sir.”
