“Don’t babe me, don’t sweetheart—don’t either of you try to talk me down.” The cramp in her gut seemed to expand and assault every muscle. “I hate myself right now.” She looked past them, ignoring the mirroring concern grooving their faces. “I hate that I love you both, and I hate that some fucking terrorist and people I was supposed to trust seemed to have conspired to rob me of who I am. I’m nobody’s victim.”
God, she hated that word. Civilians were victims of circumstances. Civilians were victims of criminals and terrorists. She was a goddamn United States Marine. She walked into hell with no expectations, and she faced hell without blinking an eye. Except—they’d taken that from her, too. Kicked her to the curb, and on the curb she’d stayed, until… Titanium sent Brad to bring her in. New facts, slightly different, but there they were.
Facing the men she loved should be a cakewalk, except they were already inside the perimeter and had taken out most of the guards. It was her versus them.
“Fine. You two want to talk about this? Let’s talk about this.” She folded her arms, because the urge to go to both of them left her muscles trembling.
“We do want to talk,” Gabriel said. They’d both risen when she walked away and faced her. Odd how, side-by-side, they reminded her of each other in some ways. They didn’t look alike—in fact, Gabriel was fairer than Brad and had kinder eyes. Brad had seen hell, just like her, and beneath his cool façade lay a hurricane force. Gabriel wore her down with relentless persistence, but Brad battered through any obstacle. Yet, they stood with the same readiness, and they watched her with similarly assessing gazes.
Too bad they weren’t playing chess. She might actually prefer the mental exercise versus ripping her soul open.
“But we need rules for the conversation.” Gabriel’s statement reminded her of Vegas. They’d had rules then, too. “Rule number one, honesty. Don’t hold back because you think one of us doesn’t want to hear something, and neither will we.”
Seemed fair. She nodded. Brad took a moment longer, but then he said, “Fine. Rule number two, John is outside of this lodge and this conversation. It’s between the three of us, not the four of us.”
For his part, Gabriel frowned briefly before nodding. “I agree with that one. John’s unequivocally on your side. If it were a fight, we wouldn’t be able to keep him out of it. This isn’t a battle, at least not that kind.”
What would John say?“Whatever. Fine. Fuck it. He doesn’t need to be here. Iknowhe has my back.”
“Rule number three, we stay here. No mission, no falling into old parts—nothing else until this is resolved between the two of you.” Gabriel cleared his throat.
“Three.” Brad said before she could, and surprise filtered through her. “There’s three of us here, so we settle this between thethreeof us. And we’re locked in until it’s done.”
Insane. They were both certifiable. “It’s cold outside anyway.” John had better have packed his thermals, or she’d kick his ass.Tomorrow. He’s a big boy; he knows how to take care of himself.She just had to trust he’d gotten over the self-flagellation part of his existence. If he hurt too bad, he couldn’t help them. He’d never fail an assignment.
“Sachi?” Brad gave her a pointed look.
“What?”
“You didn’t actually agree to the rule.”
Really?Torn between irritation and amusement, she said, “Fine, I agree. Rule number four, if I say I don’t know,youdon’t get to use emotional mumbo jumbo.” She pointed at Gabriel, then swung her finger to Brad. “Andyoudon’t get to try and order me to answer. I don’t know all the answers. I’ve never been in this situation before, so I don’t know meansI don’t fucking know.”
“I think that technically falls under the category of honesty.” Gabriel grinned, and the slow upward tilt of his mouth softened some of her anger. “But I accept the term.”
“Agreed. I don’t suppose rule number five can be we do this naked?” Always going for the easy laugh, Brad raked her with a scorching look which only amped up her tension.
To her surprise, Gabriel actually seemed to consider it. What thehellhad they talked about outside? “No,” she answered for him. “It’s too fucking cold in here.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Brad grinned.
Chuckling, Gabriel said, “I can, because now I kind of want to see her argue naked. She’s not as good at it as she thinks.”
“Really?” Brad mused. “She must be nicer to you than she ever was with me. She liked holding out and making me work for it.”
“Or maybe I’m just better.”
Losing her effort not to laugh, she shook her head. “We’re nuts.”
“Yes,” Brad agreed. “Isn’t it glorious?”
“Glorious?” Skepticism ruffled Gabriel’s tone. “More like pathological.”
“Whatever.” Mood soaring, Brad didn’t seem remotely put off by their attitudes. Then again, could she blame him? Logic told her, whether it had been his choice or not, he’d lost her the same day she’d lost him. The only difference was he’d known where she was—and she’d thought him dead.
It was the little things that mattered. Humor sobering, she relaxed a fraction. They had a plan. Maybe it wasn’t the sanest plan, but it was still a plan.
After agreeing to the rules, they divided their efforts to make the lodge living room comfortable. Neither man would settle without doing a perimeter sweep, so while they split the effort between them, she took the time to make coffee. Someone had stocked the cupboards with dry goods but nothing perishable. She’d eaten worse plenty of times, and power bars would fill the hole.