Page 67 of Stealth Mission
The nurse pours something into the cut on my brow that burns like fuck. I want it to hurt more.
Probing the cut, she sighs. “You want me to numb you?”
“No. I need the pain.”
She frowns down at me as blue tips of her gloved fingers push the wound together. “You’re getting glue after that answer. This is not about being a martyr.”
I stare at the ceiling with a war raging inside of me.
“Alright. Done.” The snap of her gloves is loud as she jerks them off. After washing her hands, she turns to my team leader. “He’s all yours. I’ll be outside to take him to see the patient when you’re done talking.”
I lurch up off the table, only to be slammed back down. Beast’s hand is around my throat, Scouts’s hand is biting into my shoulder.
Beast lets out a grunt. “Not yet, man.”
I grab the TL’s oversized wrist and try to knock Scout’s hand off. “Don’t fuck with me right now. You got what you wanted, now let me up.”
Scout steps back, but Beast tightens his hand around my neck as we stare at each other.
I know what’s coming. Pure venom. Beast doesn’t anger easily, but when he’s on a tear—watch the fuck out.
“Now listen to me, asshole, before I lock your ass down and let security drag your carcass to a holding cell. That girl’s going to be scared. She’s going to need your head straight. You need to change your shirt, wash all that damned blood off of you, kick yourself in the ass, and walk in there ready to help her.”
“I am ready.” I grit out as I squeeze his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. “But I am never going to forgive myself.”
He jerks me upright by my throat. Seething mad, he hisses in my face. “Guilt is a dangerous fucking thing. We all make mistakes. We all miss things. You know this from the Teams. But you had no reason to think a bomb had been planted on the truck. No goddamn reason.”
Breath heaving, I tighten my hold on his wrist. “That’s not true and you know it. My head was messed up because all I could think about was being alone with her.”
Fury burning through me, I clench my free hand into a fist and slam it into the tabletop. “I failed. Failed to keep her safe, Beast. I’ve been distracted and every one of you deserves better. I’m never going to be okay with that.”
His hand loosens and he steps back. “Change your shirt. That’s an order.”
I snatch the clean black T-shirt he throws from the air. Fisting the back of my filthy shirt, I rip it off over my head and throw it in the trash can.
It takes every bit of my strength to breathe down my anger as I smack the faucet handle. The hiss of water breaks the deadly silence.
Blood swirls in the sink.
I’m covered. Bloody ass head wound. No depth to it, just lots of vessels.
I scrub the remnants off my neck and my chest, until I’m mostly clean. Scout shoves a wad of paper towels in front of me.
Crossing his arms, Beast blocks the doorway. His shoulders reach from side-to-side of the opening. “You remember the night I almost lost Camile?”
“Of course,” I snap.
“Don’t you think I felt the same as you do? I went out on the op that night. I wasn’t there to protect her. If I let that eat me alive, I wouldn’t be the man she needs. The mate she deserves, not someone that’s living in a damned loop inside my head.”
“Fuck,” I roar and shove my hands in my hair. “I need to be angry at myself right now.”
“Or what?”
“You don’t understand me, Beast. Everyone thinks I’m the jokester. That’s not what’s under here.” I pound my chest as I stalk across the room toward him. “This is how we’re different.”
Getting in his face, toe-to-toe, I let the ugliest parts of me show. “This is how I survived. When my world was shit, this was how I held my broken pieces together. Anger. I can’t let that go. If I do… I won’t be anything. Nothing to the team. Nothing for… her.” The last word breaks, clawing out of my throat.
I need to feel the burn of my anger. Fuel. Glue. The only thing I know.