FIFTEEN

Zarek

Fuck. Fucking fuck!

I had screwed up. The hurt I saw flicker in her eyes—the hurt I caused—it was not something I could shake off.

I called her rescue mission from when she was kidnapped, meaningless , when it had meant everything to me.

Just as the echo of the door slam faded, Logan burst into my room. His entrance was less a question, more an accusation. "What the fuck did you do now?" He demanded.

"Stay out of this, Log—"

"She wants me to drive her back to Toronto," he cut in, his tone a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Says if I don't, she'll sneak out herself. Obviously, she won't manage, but what the hell, man?"

"Fuck!" My hands went to my hair, pulling at the roots as if I could somehow yank the frustration right out of my skull. I recounted the disastrous conversation to Logan, who listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

After a heavy pause, he finally spoke. "Listen, Zar. If she wants to train, let her. If she thinks she can handle a mission, start her on surveillance with Amelia. Maybe even talk to Callahan about getting her into the training program."

"She's a civilian!" I exploded, the word ‘civilian' sounding more like an accusation than a fact.

"So were we, once," Logan countered calmly, leaning against the door frame. "I don't think anything about her decision has to do with you. It's probably about that ex of hers, Adriano."

The mention of that bastard Adriano's name ignited a familiar rage within me. "Adriano McLeen, that motherf—"

"Can't kill a dead man, Zarek," Logan interjected, his voice flat.

I sighed, the fight draining out of me as reality set in. "Fine, train her. But I'm not talking to Alpha One about this," I said. "And make sure it's just self-defense. She is not part of the squad," I added, fixing him with a hard glare.

"Fine," Logan agreed, a bit too quickly.

"Fine," I spat.

"Fine," he threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jeez, chill!" He shook his head as he left the room, leaving me to stew in regret.

???

I glanced over as Logan toyed with one of the Crazons we'd snagged yesterday. Morning light poured into the warehouse, casting long shadows. "Looks like a disc of soap, doesn't it?" he chuckled, tossing it lightly between his hands.

"Hey, careful with that," Kabir warned, his eyes narrowing. "I've shut off any external tracking they might've placed on it, but who knows if it's got some sort of beacon we haven't found yet."

Logan examined the Crazon, his finger hovering over the discreet power button etched into the back. "Not planning to start a fireworks show, are you, Gunner?" I chimed in, half-joking.

He rolled his eyes at us, setting the Crazon back on the metal table with a soft clank. Stretching his arms above his head, he announced, "Alright, training calls." He waved nonchalantly and sauntered out, the door clanging shut behind him.

Kabir shot me a look as the echo faded. "Are we really bringing in a trainee now?"

Amelia, leaning against a nearby stack of crates, grinned. "I wouldn't mind some female energy around here."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "It's just for self-defense, not full squad training," I clarified, "And just for the record, it wasn't my idea."

"Of course not. The mighty old Zarek would never endanger a woman by training her. Lest she learn how to take care of herself. No, no! Mighty Zarek needs to be the protector," Amelia drawled animatedly.

"What did I ever do to you?" I grumbled.

"Zarek, please. On my first day, you put me on surveillance, and I am still on it. I'm more of a combat operative than Kabir, yet here I am. Sur- fucking -veillance. "

"Hey!" Kabir slapped her arm lightly as she eyed him with a tell me I'm wrong, I dare you look.

"Did you just imply I'm sexist?" I rolled my eyes, "You're a trained surveillance and drone expert. Yes, you've fought two combat missions. But, I put you where your expertise lies."

"Fine, I won't argue with that. I'm an expert after all." She smiled.

My lips twitched, not enough to call it a smile, but Amelia's smile widened.

"Did you talk to her after your fight?" She asked. Kabir pretended not to listen and continued to work on his laptop.

"We didn't fight."

"The walls are pretty thin, Boss," Kabir muttered.

"Great, so you all heard."

"Just the bits that were loud enough," Amelia grinned.

I remained quiet, my face blank. I didn't need my squad thinking I was distracted.

"What's the estimate on testing? I want to know what this soap thing is," I asked Kabir.

"0 minutes and 45 seconds," he squinted at his screen mockingly.

"Amelia, get started when he's ready."

I left the team to start their testing and went to check on Dylan who was still resting on heavy painkillers. I saw him sound asleep as I opened his door slightly, and then quickly shut it to avoid disturbing him.

Leaving Dylan to rest, I made my way back to my room. I didn't want to start working out and relieving this tension right in front of my squad. Dropping down, I started doing a few pushups. My mind was reeling, replaying the conversation with Leora. It churned in my mind, her determination clashing with my concerns. She could be killed, dammit.

Late into the night, the familiar thud of fists against the punching bag drew me from my room. With a reluctant pause, I made my way to the makeshift gym where Leora was taking out her frustrations on the bag.

"Use your shoulder blades more," I advised quietly, immediately regretting it as her glare pinned me like a sharp dagger.

"Use my shoulder blades." She scoffed, a harsh laugh breaking through her controlled exterior. "And when will you stop controlling my life?"

"Leora—"

"No!" The word sliced through the air. "When will you stop dictating what I should or shouldn't do?"

Her reaction cut deep, laying bare the core of her frustration. She stepped away from the punching bag, her movements bristling with anger, and strode towards the long table at the center of the warehouse. With a sharp gesture, she ripped off her gloves and slammed them down.

I followed her, my own frustration mounting but my voice remained steady, "Why, Leora? Why is joining the squad so important to you?"

"Why?" she echoed, her tone laced with exasperation. "Because I want to know what it's like to be needed, to do something that makes others feel safe."

"I get it—"

"No, Zarek, you don't ." Her interruption was sharp, and she looked up, her eyes softening despite her anger. "I've been dealt shitty hands over and over. I've never felt safe. I need this. I need to feel capable, Zarek. I can't sit around and let people dictate my life. I have had that life before. With Adriano. You know all about him, don't you?"

I closed my eyes in frustration. "I don't know everything."

"There's not much to tell. Just a series of bad decisions because I was too naive to see that when others impose their will, dictate your life, it leads to nothing but trouble. When they assume they know better, they're not protecting you—they're fucking sentencing you."

Her words hit hard, and an uncomfortable silence fell between us. I struggled to keep my composure, my fury raging. "Are you saying I'm like him ?"

Her eyes met mine, fierce yet filled with a pleading for understanding. "Zarek, every time you try to decide what's best for me without listening, it feels the same."

The torrent of emotions swirling within me was almost unbearable. Leora's comparison of me to that vile ex of hers triggered a volcanic anger inside me, and I couldn't see past the haze of red clouding my vision. I stalked toward her, my strides deliberate and menacing, trapping her against the edge of the table with a ferocity that mirrored my inner turmoil. My voice was a low growl. "You want me? You want this squad? Have at it, woman!"

Her eyes met mine, a fiery determination burning within them. "Yes, I want it," she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm around us.

In an instant, my lips crashed against hers, our mutual fury transforming into a desperate, searing kiss. I lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the table without breaking the kiss, her fingers weaving through my hair while her other hand explored the contours of my bare chest.

When we finally broke for air, her hands fumbled with the drawstrings of my sweatpants. My response was immediate and primal; I yanked at the fabric of her leggings, ripping them apart at the seams, thankful in that reckless moment that she wore nothing underneath.

She deftly pulled my sweatpants down, her gaze locked on my hard length with an intensity that matched her earlier fervor. She aligned me with her, and with one forceful thrust, I was enveloped in her warmth. "Fuck, baby," I rasped, my forehead resting against hers, overwhelmed by how she was squeezing me, "you're so fucking tight. Two years, huh?"

"Two fucking years, Zarek. Now move !"

I smirked against her lips, starting with slow, deliberate strokes that soon quickened into a relentless pace. As I lavished her neck with kisses, her moans filled the air, vibrating against my lips. My hand found her clit, teasing and pinching, driving her towards a climax.

The world seemed to shrink to the raw, visceral connection between us. Her climax was fierce, pulling me deeper into her as her body clamped around mine.

I lost myself in her warmth, watching as a vivid blush spread from her cheeks down her neck, tinting the skin visible above her camisole. She was breathtaking, completely undone and beautifully spent.

Driven by her response, I chased my own release, which overtook me with shattering intensity.

Blinking through my dazed haze, I kissed her, hard. As we both came down from the high, reality began to seep back in. "Fuck, I didn't use—"

"I'm clean," she interrupted, her smile wistful. "And I had a shot recently."

I exhaled in relief. "I'm clean too. Not much action on that front with all the missions," I said.

"What, no other women you stalked?" She asked, her eyes gleaming with playfulness.

But then the gravity of what just happened hit me. I knew I couldn't have this.

Why the hell did we do this?

This was a mistake. Despite the intensity of what we shared, I knew it was wrong. She was a civilian; I couldn't let her be dragged deeper into my world. She had to remain safe. She could still go back to her old life.

Keeping my eyes shut, perhaps too cowardly to face her reaction, I finally spoke the words I knew would make her loathe me. "This shouldn't have happened, Leora."

"What?" Her soft whimper started poking through my defenses.

Keep it together, Zar.

She pushed me back gently, and I moved away several steps, adjusting my sweatpants. "We shouldn't have done this. It doesn't mean what you think it means." I shouldn't have let it get this far.

Her silence was heavy, filled with confusion and hurt—a stark contrast to the passion just moments before. As I looked into her eyes, filled with emerging tears, I knew I had not only crossed a line but also hurt someone who had begun to mean more to me than I dared admit.

"You coward!" Leora hissed through her tears and walked away. I stood there, frozen. The only sound surrounding me was my shattered breath, broken just like me.