Page 79 of Covert Operation

When Christian asked me earlier about friends, I was confident when I said Savannah. I knew naming Christian was a stretch, but I was ready to argue my case. But that was it. And more than I would have claimed a month ago.

But I was wrong. And an idiot. I was so wrapped up in my own barriers and restrictions that I didn’t see the truth.

I do have friends. Maybe even brothers.

In spite of my fucking self.

THIRTY-THREE

SAVANNAH

I HOLD TIGHT to Zeke as my feet skid against the sidewalk. It takes me a couple seconds, but eventually, I regain my balance.

That seems to be how things go for me. It might take me a bit, but eventually, I figure out how to be steady on my feet again. I recognize that the man beside me has played no small part in that. Zeke is steady and stable, and he’s always there for me to hang onto when I start to go down.

I think I could have done it on my own eventually. I’m glad I didn’t have to, but I could have.

Hopefully, I’m not the only one. “Do you think Audrey will be okay?”

Zeke is quiet for a second. “I hope so.” He sighs. “But it’s hard to tell who’s going to struggle and who’s not.”

I move carefully as we navigate the steps leading to Christian and Lydia’s front porch. “Did you think I was going to struggle?”

Zeke’s eyes come my way and he gives me a small nod. “I did.” His mouth hints at a smile. “Shows what I know.”

I’m not offended by his assumption. I made the same one. I thought it would take me years to be where I am now. “I hope Audrey is the same way.”

I don’t know her well—we’ve only spent a few hours together—but there’s a connection between us. Maybe that’s how it would be with anyone who’d been in a similar situation. It’s a club none of us want to belong to, but it grants us a level of understanding other people simply can’t achieve.

They try. People like my sister and Lydia, who’ve seen some of the same things, get close. I’m grateful they don’t know what it’s like to be tortured and raped, but it leaves a divide.

One I’m still figuring out how to cross.

“I hope so too.” Zeke punches the code into the door keypad, then opens it and leads me inside. After taking off our boots, we quietly creep up the stairs. Christian and Lydia came back earlier with Audrey, getting her set up in the other spare bedroom while we lingered at the firehouse, spending time with the other members of Zeke’s team.

I’ve never seen him as social as he was tonight. Sure, he still served as a human jungle gym for the little kids at the party, but unlike the evening we spent at my sister’s, he made an effort to converse with people. To connect.

It seems like I’m not the only one who’s changing. Who’s finally moving forward in their life.

After padding down the hallway in my stocking feet, I slip into the guest room where we’ve been staying, waiting for Zeke to come in before quietly closing the door and turning on the light.

Letting out a sigh, I peel off my coat. “How was your day?” The minute he walked into Christian’s house I spilled every detail of mine, and now I want to hear about his. I know the news isn’t good—there’s only two reasons all of Shadow would be back, and no one was celebrating—and I want to know where everything stands.

“A waste of time.” Zeke’s frown is severe as he shucks his own coat.

I know he’s frustrated. I am too. “Are we going to stay here until you figure out what’s going on?” It doesn’t seem like the best plan of action to me, but what do I know? “If there’s nothing happening, shouldn’t we go back to Alaska?”

Technically, I’m not in a hurry to go back to Alaska. What I’m in a hurry for, is to figure out what comes next. To get on with my life. To find a home like this one in a location I enjoy.

And I can’t really do that with everything so up in the air.

“I’ll be having a conference call with Pierce tomorrow to discuss our next course of action.” Zeke tosses his coat over the chair in the corner. “I agree with you. I don’t know that there’s any reason for us to be here.” , Untucking his shirt from the waistband of his tactical pants, he grabs the bottom hem and drags it up his torso as he continues talking. “I think the best plan of action is for us to go home so I can start putting some pressure on Vincent. He’s got to be behind this.”

I know Zeke is still talking, but my brain stopped registering his words the second his abs came into view. Why are those things so darn distracting?

Probably because I know just how helpful they are when it comes to certain activities. I know what it looks like when they flexon a thrust. When they expand and contract as his breathing becomes labored.

“Savannah?” Zeke’s voice is filled with concern. “Are you okay, Sweetheart?” He crosses to where I stand, his hands coming to cradle my face as his eyes search mine. “It’s okay if today was hard for you.”