Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

TAKESHI

Present Day

I kept myself as still as possible on the bed. If I so much as stopped breathing evenly, they’d notice. It was too early for this. Too soon for me to have to face reality.

A deep voice murmured to the others, then I heard the distinct echo of shoes heading away from the room.

Finally, they were leaving.

“Enough of the playing chicken, Shi. I sent the others away. We need to have a chat,” Fabian said sternly.

I cracked my eyes open just in time to catch his wince. Raising a brow, I gave him a bland stare.

His poor choice of words hadn’t bothered me. His reaction did.

Since the shooting, people had taken to walking on eggshells around me.

“Poor Takeshi.”

“This must be devastating.”

“We have to help him.”

So on and so forth. They’d encouraged me to go to therapy, to let out my emotions now that I no longer had a voice to use. It was as if they thought my new limitations changed who I was to my core.

I didn’t talk about feelings.

I rarely spoke at all. Only when I felt there was a need to speak up did I do so.

And I didn’t want to see a therapist.

There was nothing they could do for me anyway. Not unless they had a time machine to make me go back and kill that fuck Bradford Yancey Jr. the second he stepped out from behind Detective Mills.

Thinking of that day only led to more frustration on my end. It was best to squash it while I could.

“I’m sorry,” Fabian said gently, his tone softer. “It’s hard to remember what's a trigger and all that. These last couple of months have been challenging on us all.”

Oh, cry me a fucking river.

I wanted to scream the words at him. To yell and cry out until my breath emptied from my lungs.

But I couldn’t.

Not because Fabian was a usually nice guy who wound up in a shitty situation — aka taking care of my recovery.

No, I couldn’t yell because I was physically unable to.

The bullet Brad sent my way would have been lethal had we been just about anywhere else. Luckily, there were certified EMTs on site at the police station who went to work triaging me that fateful day.

Their hard work saved my life.

Unfortunately, nothing could save my vocal cords. I’ve been told more than once that I’m lucky I can eat and drink on my own without a feeding tube at this point.

Coming back to the present moment, I waved away Fabian’s apologies as I pushed up on the bed. It was still a struggle to move around now, even after surgery, recovery, and some physical therapy under my belt.

According to the specialists Tank brought in, I’d likely feel some type of weakness for a while longer. There is no set pace for an injury like mine. Typically, people didn’t survive it, which meant no studies were done to give us a guidepost.

Fabian handed me the dry erase board we used to communicate. I scribbled on it, Breakfast?

“We can make that happen. I’m sure Cohen grabbed something after swinging by Sinclair’s this morning. He’d never forget to get you something.”

Now.

He’d never forget to get me something now.

It was another new truth I refused to point out. Post injury, the team had gone above and beyond to ensure I was cared for. Tank and his doctors, Cohen and his food, Memphis and his research. Each of them brought something to the table in hopes I wouldn’t notice the sad looks they shot my way or the ease with which they kept me out of work conversation.

“Take it easy,” Tank had told me when I was first admitted to the hospital.

Ronan had agreed with him, his unofficial job as Tank’s right-hand man giving him more authority than the rest of us. “Yeah, Takeshi. Do as the boss says. We’re at a bit of a dead end right now anyway. We’ll clue you in when we know more.”

As the days turned into weeks, I realized they wouldn’t be sharing anything else with me. Surely they’d found out some scrap of new information in the time since I’d been recovering.

Memphis was a technical genius. He was lucky Tank came across him when he did, or he’d be bored out of his mind tucked away in some bunker working for one of the various alphabet government agencies.

If he didn’t keep himself in line, it was still a possibility. Agent Stabler, our FBI contact, always seemed intrigued by what Memphis could gather through his computer hacking. Any indication from him that he’d leave Tank, and I have no doubt Stabler would steal him away.

Fabian stood close by in case I needed his help out of bed. I only wobbled a small amount before finding my balance. My weakened state was the more frustrating effect of the injury. I was far too used to taking care of myself that having Fabian as my full-time aid was demoralizing. I constantly struggled with accepting his help since my brain believed I could do it.

My body wasn’t of the same belief.

“You look to be in tip-top shape today, Shi. Let’s see what Cohen snagged for you.” Fabian led me across the room to the small dining table with a to-go container and cup on top of it.

After I eased into the chair, he left me alone to eat whatever my friend had brought. While I knew he wanted to stay to watch over me, I’d told him it was a hard limit.

The constant staring, the worry that would be etched on his face, was far too distracting to focus on the method I needed to use to get the food down. While I could probably eat a bit more normal now, I still kept a close eye on how my body did in case some other issue popped up.

Cohen had grabbed me a parfait with some soft fruits on the side. I also had a matcha smoothie that I was sure had some blend of superfood healing tonic Memphis had told him would help me.

I ate and drank slowly, cautious of how my body reacted to what I was giving it. Though I’d kept to eating things that were easy going down, I would still occasionally feel the tension that came with doing too much too fast. I preferred to avoid the uncomfortable sensation whenever possible.

After I finished, I noticed Fabian still wasn’t back yet. I wasn’t sure what kept him away, but I wasn’t going to deny being curious.

The guys had told me staying at the NightShade offices was for my own benefit. We’d suited up a room when Godric got hurt all those months ago. Since then, it had been used by him and Cohen, Damari, and now me. While convenient for them to keep an eye on me, it also meant I felt decidedly singled out.

Knowing I would likely only have this one chance, I stood and quietly went down the hall towards the main room where our desks were set up. There was no one around, adding to the stealthy situation. It wasn’t usually a busy floor most days. Still, I felt like I was trying to channel my inner James Bond with the way I hugged the wall and tiptoed down the hall.

Clad in pajamas, I was sure to be a hilarious sight for any guys watching the security monitors. I could only hope they wouldn’t tip the rest of the crew off before I managed to listen in a bit.

As I leaned around the doorway, Tank’s harsh voice rang out. “Alright, men. Tonight is the night. We have a solid plan in place. We are a go for the targets. This is a kill mission considering the red tape that comes with persecution. The victims need to be secured and brought back to HQ for our guys in law enforcement to handle. Am I clear?”

A chorus of agreement went up, followed quickly by Ronan’s barked orders to the team. Still tucked away near the door, Tank missed me as he stepped from the room. His phone was pressed to his ear, which meant he didn’t see me from my hiding spot.

“Now isn’t a good time,” he mumbled into the device.

Someone on the other end replied. Whatever they said had his shoulders dropping.

In the softest voice I’ve ever heard, he said, “Soon. I miss you too.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

Tank had a lover.

A secret lover.

Because for as much as he was all in our business, we were in his. Yet no one had mentioned him having a partner. It had been years since he dated anyone seriously. The man had people in his bed, sure, but none worth letting into his work life.

“I know, but we’ve got a mission soon. I can meet you tomorrow for breakfast. Our place?”

There was a hopeful lilt to his voice. Like he was genuinely sad he couldn’t meet this person right that second.

Had the world turned upside down since I’d been recovering?

Tank released an audible sigh, then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. Can’t wait, baby.”

He hung up, then marched forward down the hall. I wasn’t sure how he had no clue I was standing there. Again, this was totally out of the norm for my very astute boss.

But… with Tank out of the picture, I could probably convince the team to talk to me. I didn’t have to go on the mission — in fact, I knew I couldn’t. Them sharing details wasn’t against my healing regimen though.

When I stepped through the door, all eyes came my way. Cohen, Godric, Ronan, Memphis, and Frost were there. To the side of the room, Damari was curled up, napping.

I grinned at them all, then walked forward to a loose notepad on the desk. I wrote, What’s the plan tonight? I want details.

Ronan glanced down at it first, his expression tortured. “How do you know about this? Shouldn’t you be resting? Where is Fabian?”

I rolled my eyes, then turned the pad back around. Fabian disappeared while I ate. Don’t know where he is. I heard you talking about it. I’ve rested enough.

“Are you sure you’ve rested enough?” Godric asked. At my scowl he added, “I was recently on bedrest for a bit there too, if you recall. I’m only asking because I know how restless I felt back then. We don’t want you to overdo it.”

I’m not overdoing it. I’m bored. Give me something else to think about.

As an afterthought I added, Please , at the bottom in all caps.

The group read the sheet, then looked at one another. I knew what those looks meant. Had worked with them long enough to read them all.

Well, all except Frost.

I wondered if he was taking over my spot or if his role was temporary. The idea of never being able to work again was one I’d avoided so far. There were plenty of people working with impairments. People doing things in all areas of life.

I wasn’t that special.

And if they could adapt, then so could I.

Ronan straightened, then motioned to the chair. “How about I go over it all and any questions or thoughts you have, you jot down while we talk? That way, we can recap anything at the end. Deal?”

Smirking, I eased into a chair and set the pad on my lap. I waved my hand in a way that screamed, get on with it.

Cohen chuckled, to which Godric elbowed him. “Hey! He’s funny. It’s better than the pissed off version we’d been dealing with.”

His cheeks pinkened at the blurted-out words. No one needed to explain to me what he meant. I had been angry after I woke up. My entire life changed in a span of a few seconds. I felt like a failure for not protecting Sinclair. And even more so, I was worried about how this new version of my life would go.

It was misplaced, sure, yet I could still feel it simmering beneath the surface. Hopefully, with becoming more involved in the team they would go away completely.

Ronan outlined the plan, which was mostly to figure out exactly where the sale was happening. Everyone really wanted to stop it before it went down, however, there was no lead on how the trafficked victims would be arriving. It could be by plane, cargo ship, or even truck. There were far too many options these days.

Memphis jumped in along the way to explain where he got the intel and how many victims he thought there might be based on the preview of the listing. He’d signed in under one of his dark web aliases, giving him access as if he were a buyer.

To these men, that’s exactly who he was.

“We’re going to need to have a truck on standby to get them back here. Stabler will be waiting here with me,” his eye turned to me, “and I guess Takeshi too since he’s back on his feet. We’ll be ready to help get people back to whatever homes they need to.”

Cohen leaned into my side, his gaze taking in my list. “We’re not getting police involved since there's going to be too much heat at the site. We’ll tip them off about the bodies after. The rest is going to be handled in house.”

I squinted at him, my frustration at his closeness unwarranted. Yes, I still didn’t feel good about him being close. I didn’t feel good about anyone being close besides Fabian, and that was only because he’d had to literally wipe my ass when I couldn’t. That type of thing made people close.

“Have you thought about learning sign language?” Memphis blurted out during my stare-off with our teammate.

I whipped my head in his direction. He held his hand up, as if trying to prove his innocence.

“It’s just a suggestion. We could all learn it. That way, you can communicate to us directly instead of writing it all out.”

Yeah. Sure. No biggie.

We’re in the middle of the largest mission we’ve ever taken on, one that will get us all the death penalty if anyone finds out, but sure, let’s stop to learn fucking sign language. What a ridiculous idea.

I shook my head, then stood to leave. Their voices called out behind me, apologizing for upsetting me.

It didn’t matter though. My mood had dropped and there was no reason to stay anymore. I went back to my room, laid down, and pretended nothing else mattered.

What good was I to them anymore?

Worthless a voice echoed in my head. It sounded suspiciously like my father.

I closed my eyes tight, hoping to keep those memories at bay. No need to remind myself I was a failure long before now.