FOURTEEN

Leora

The wait was intolerable. Every minute stretched endlessly, each tick of the clock amplifying my fears. What if they were injured? What if they never returned?

I desperately needed a way to communicate with them.

As I paced the confines of my room, thoughts of Zarek haunted me. The prospect of never seeing him again, of never feeling his kiss, was crushing. Each shared look, every moment together had deepened my affection for him, drawing me deeper into an emotional whirlpool.

Before joining this life, I had drifted aimlessly, merely distracting myself enough to live ‘normally'.

Yet, this new life, this new purpose with Zarek and the squad, brought clarity. It resonated with a part of me that I hadn't known was seeking direction .

I was not meant to be a passive observer in my own life. I needed to be involved, to be part of the narrative that was unfolding. My previous life, especially these past two years, felt like being forced to swim with bound hands—I refused to experience that helplessness again.

With a deep, steadying breath, I made a decision. It was time to take action. The thought of contributing actively, of fighting alongside Zarek and the others, ignited something within me. Although I was not fully privy to their mission's specifics, I figured that I would be soon.

The sound of an engine slicing through the quiet triggered an immediate reaction in me. I darted toward the door, my heart hammering with the desperate hope that Zarek and the squad were returning unscathed.

Kabir entered first, and my gaze quickly swept over him, scanning for injuries. Aside from a few cuts on his face, he seemed intact. Relief washed over me briefly until my eyes caught the sight of Logan and Zarek supporting Dylan between them. Dylan's t-shirt was pulled up over his shoulder, revealing a large patch of gauze just below his collarbone.

"Is he okay?" I asked, my voice tight with concern as I looked from Zarek to Dylan. "Are you okay, Dylan?"

"Fantastic. Getting shot for the fifteenth time now," Dylan quipped with a weary smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oh God!" The words escaped me as a whisper.

I helped them escort Dylan to his room. Once done, I shifted towards Zarek and leaned slightly.

"Can we talk?" I asked .

He nodded.

"I need him resting," he commanded as we moved to his room. As he shut the door behind us, he began to shed his vest, his movements heavy with fatigue.

"I can't be the helpless woman waiting at home for her military man," I blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

He stiffened, pausing mid-motion. I felt as though something had irreversibly changed within him, between the kiss this morning and now. Without meeting my gaze, he murmured, "I see. What do you want, then?"

"You need to train me. I need to learn to be part of the squad," I declared, my voice firm.

Disbelief flickered across his face. "You're not—it doesn't work like that."

"Tell me how and I'll do it," I insisted, meeting his hesitant gaze.

"Where is this even coming from?"

I took a step towards him. "I have felt this way since the night in the alley."

"Felt what?" He asked.

"Just… me needing to be a part of something more. My life felt robotic before. And I want to feel useful here."

He looked at me, puzzled. "You want to be a part of this squad?" His words came out slow, as if needing his own confirmation.

"Yes."

He looked away, his shoulders slumping. "I'll have to talk to higher ups about recruiting you. There's a written test. You need to train to pass a mock mission and get your physical and mental exams done." He graced me with a pained look. "It's not easy. "

"Okay. I can try at least. I will lose my job at the Detention Centre for being absent without cause. I have nothing to do until this case closes."

"Leora, this isn't a life you want. It's dangerous. You saw what happened to Squad Two. Dylan barely made it out today. And the mock mission isn't really mock. People die in those."

"I know what I want. And I've worked with criminals before. I want to help and not be helpless when I'm being targeted," I countered, my resolve steeling.

He looked at me, his gaze burning. "No. You're not doing this. Once this case is closed and we've got the tail off your back, you're going back to your life. This isn't what you should want. I didn't save you, only to get you killed on a fucking mission ."

"Did you not hear me? I can't be that helpless woman—"

"‘Waiting for your military man.' I got it," he interrupted, his voice suddenly distant. "You don't have to, you know?"

"What?" My voice cracked, a sharp stab of pain threading through it as I anticipated where this was leading.

"You don't have to wait for me. I might not even come back one day."

"Are you serious? Wasn't it just this morning when you quote unquote claimed me?" My breathing became erratic.

"That may have been an oversight on my part."

"Oversight," I laughed without humor.

"Leora, you can't want this. You have a life, you have friends and family. You're not thinking straight."

"Oh," I nodded, a bitter edge to my voice. "Send me back then." I challenged.

"As I said," he shook his head, "you're not thinking straight."

"So, let me get this straight. You won't train me. You refuse to kiss me. I'm off-limits to you. And now I can't even pull my weight with the squad?" My voice rose with every accusation. "Right? That's what you're saying? That I stay fucking helpless?"

"That's not—"

"Right?" My voice grew louder.

Zarek closed his eyes, his features tightening as if my words physically pained him. "Yes. I don't want you to be a part of this squad."

"Take. Me. Back." The words came out sharp, my teeth clenched in frustration.

He rose swiftly, his movements brimming with a tense, intimidating energy as he closed the distance between us. "And then what?" he gritted through his teeth, "You get kidnapped? Again? They use you to get to us? Again? You want to risk my squad's lives for meaningless rescue ops?"

His glare was unyielding, and it dawned on me then. Hell, I was meaningless to him. A liability. I sucked in a ragged breath and turned away.

"Fuck, I didn't mean—" he began, his tone shifting, but I didn't stay to hear the rest. I stormed out of his room, the door slamming behind me.