Chapter 24

chapter

twenty-four

After Shane dropped him off at home, Rylan let Valor run around the yard. He felt guilty for leaving the dog in a kennel all day.

Which made him think of Jax living in a goddamn cage for years.

His gut twisted and he sank to the front steps of his porch, his legs suddenly too heavy to move. The evening was quiet, save for the distant hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. He hadn’t touched alcohol since Zak showed up with Valor, and the temptation loomed, beckoning him with the seductive whisper of oblivion.

I shouldn’t be alone.

As if the thought conjured her, Veronica appeared on the road at the end of his driveway, her two dogs by her side—sleek, muscular Rebel and tiny Alfie with his big fluffy ears and bowtie.

She hesitated, then started up the driveway.

Fuck.

She wasn’t who he wanted to see right now. Not after the emotional rollercoaster of visiting Jax. He fought the urge to retreat into the house, to avoid whatever conversation she had in mind. “Did Shane send you to babysit me?”

“No. Why? Do you need a babysitter?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Good.” She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable in the darkness. Then she sighed and moved to sit beside him on the step, leaving a careful space between them. “I was out for a walk and saw you sitting here. You look…” She trailed off and didn’t seem inclined to finish the thought.

“Pathetic?” he suggested.

“Your word, not mine. I was going to say lost.”

He scoffed. “I can’t be lost sitting on my own front porch.”

“Seriously? You know better than most that’s not true.”

Alfie trotted over to him and sniffed his pant leg, then jumped up in his lap. The small dog’s warm weight was comforting, and Rylan found himself absently stroking Alfie’s soft fur.

The psychic dog strikes again.

Alfie had a reputation around Redwood Coast Rescue for always knowing who needed the most comfort, and he must have decided, tonight, that person was Rylan.

Valor padded over to sniff Rebel, and Veronica nodded toward the pair. “I heard you got a dog finally.”

“Zak’s idea.”

A genuine smile curved her lips. “Always is. How do you think I ended up with Rebel?”

They watched in silence as Rebel and Valor circled each other. The dogs’ tails wagged, hesitant at first, then with more vigor. Rebel gave a play bow, and then the two were off, racing around the yard, growling playfully.

“You’re an asshole,” Veronica said finally. “I never thought that about you until the other day in the hospital. After all that shit you said…” She shook her head. “I almost kept walking just now. I didn’t want to stop and talk to you.”

He glanced at her. “So why did you?”

She said nothing for a beat, then exhaled sharply, her breath fogging in the air. “Because you’re also the reason I can go for walks without panicking.”

“No, that was all your husband’s doing.”

“But you talked to him when he needed guidance, helped him coax me out of my shell.”

“Connelly would have figured it out without me.”

“Maybe. But he didn’t have to. Because you were there for him, like you’ve been there for so many of us.” Veronica shifted to face him fully. “And I realize now we’ve taken you for granted. We dumped all our shit on you and never stopped to think that maybe one day you might buckle under the weight.”

He froze, his hand halfway down Alfie’s back. The little dog looked at him with a question in those soft brown eyes, so he continued stroking, focusing harder than necessary on the task. “I’m your counselor. That’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to carry us all by yourself,” she countered. “You’re human, Rylan. You’re allowed to need help, too. You’ve been there for all of us, so now let us be there for you.”

Rylan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, to insist he was fine, that he could handle this on his own. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew she was right. He had been drowning for months, struggling to keep his head above water as the burden of everyone else’s pain threatened to drag him under.

“I don’t know how,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I’ve been the one people lean on for so long, I don’t know how to let someone else carry the load.”

Veronica reached over and squeezed his arm. “You start by letting one person in. Just one. And then go from there.”

One person. He could do that. But who? His mind immediately went to Izzy, but he pushed the thought away. Things with her were too complicated, too raw.

As if reading his mind, Veronica said softly, “You should call her.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me. Call her.” Veronica’s gaze was steady, knowing. “She’s the one you want to talk to right now. The one you need.”

“How did you?—“

“Please. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching. She should be the one you let in.”

Jesus, were they that obvious?

He dragged a hand over his face. “No. Things with her are… complicated.”

“Connelly was my person,” Veronica mused and stood, dusting off her jeans. “But I fought tooth and nail against letting him in at first because things were complicated with us, too. We had a lot of history— not all of it good. A lot of hurt.”

Veronica whistled for Rebel, who came bounding over. “But in the end, I realized that’s exactly why he needed to be my person. Because despite our complicated history, he understood me better than anyone. He knew all my dark places, and he loved me anyway.” She looked down at Rylan, her expression soft as she scooped up Alfie. “Just something to think about.”

She started down the steps, Rebel falling into step beside her.

“Veronica,” he called.

She paused at the bottom and looked back at him.

It took a moment for him to find the right words, and once he did, it took another to work them past the hard lump in his throat. “What I said in the hospital… using what I know about your struggles like that… it was cruel. I wanted to hurt you all because I was hurting, and?—”

Jesus. He’d done the same thing to her that Jax had to Shane. Lashed out to make the people around him hurt because he couldn’t stop his own pain.

“I’m sorry,” he finished, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to forgive me,” he added quickly when he saw the flash of pain in her eyes. “I just need you to know how fucking sorry I am for weaponizing your demons like that.”

She rubbed a hand over her eyes and cleared her throat. Then, to his surprise, she set Alfie down, closed the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around him in a hard hug. Veronica was a sexual assault survivor. She didn’t offer physical affection freely or easily, and the fact that she was hugging him now meant more than any words of forgiveness ever could.

“I’ve already forgiven you, Rylan.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Says you.” She held on a moment longer, then released him and stepped back, swiping at her eyes. “Please do me a favor and call her. Don’t be alone tonight if you don’t have to be.”

With that, she turned and headed down the driveway, Rebel and Alfie trotting at her heels. Rylan watched until they disappeared into the gathering dusk before letting out a shaky breath.

Call Izzy.

Let her in.

Could he do that?

Did he dare?

He pulled out his phone and stared at the dark screen. His thumb hovered over the button to wake it.

He wanted to.

God, he wanted to.

With a sigh, he pocketed his phone and whistled for Valor. The dog bounded over, tongue lolling out in a happy grin.

Rylan scratched him behind the ears. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, bud.”

Valor cocked his head, studying Rylan with soulful eyes that seemed to see right through him. Then he whined and pawed at Rylan’s leg as if urging him to reconsider.

“Not you, too. I’m fine, I promise.”

Valor whined again, unconvinced.

“What would I even say, huh? Sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately. Want to come over and… What? Cuddle?”

He snorted. Yeah, that would go over well. Izzy wasn’t exactly the cuddling type. At least, not that he’d seen. But then again, neither was he usually. Except right now, the thought of her arms around him, her warmth pressed against his side, was so tempting it made his chest ache.

Fuck it.

Before he could second-guess himself again, he grabbed his phone and pulled up Izzy’s number. His finger shook as it hovered over the call button.

Valor gave a soft, encouraging woof .

He pressed down, held the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice.

Maybe she wouldn’t pick up. It was late and?—

“Rylan?” Panic streaked through her sleepy voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I...” The words stuck in his throat. He didn’t even know where to begin. Because what could he say? That he was afraid of what he’d do if left to his own devices tonight? That he needed her in a way that terrified him?

“Rylan?”

“I’m alone,” he blurted.

Valor scooted closer and laid his head on his thigh as if to remind him that wasn’t true. He patted the dog’s head, and the coil of tension inside him eased a fraction. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

But he still wanted to see Izzy.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of Izzy’s soft breathing on the other end of the line.

“Do you want me to come over?” she asked finally.

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. If he said yes, things would change between them. He knew that. But maybe things needed to change.

Shane had forgiven Jax.

Veronica had forgiven him.

Maybe it was time to forgive Izzy.

“Please,” he whispered.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Izzy didn’t know what she’d find when she reached Rylan’s. Was he drinking? He hadn’t sounded drunk on the phone, but she just kept picturing that moment she and Zak found him on his couch, soaked in alcohol and half alive…

Oh, God.

She pressed harder on the accelerator and made it to his place in record time, her heart as loud as a drumline in her ears as she pulled into the driveway. The house was dark, save for the porch light illuminating the front steps. And there he sat, Valor at his side, his head in his hands.

Izzy threw the car into park and jumped out, slamming the door behind her. Rylan’s head snapped up at the sound, and even from a distance, she could see the raw vulnerability etched into every line of his face. It made her steps falter. She’d never seen him like this, so utterly broken open.

Valor’s tail thumped against the wooden step as she approached, but Rylan remained still, watching her with hooded eyes. She stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he didn’t really want her here. Maybe?—

He stood slowly, Valor rising with him. “You came.”

“Of course I did. You asked me to.” She took a tentative step closer, searching his face for any sign that he regretted making that request. “Unless you changed your mind...”

“No.” He closed the distance between them in two long strides and pulled her into his arms. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Izzy went willingly, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. She felt the shudder that rippled through him and tightened her hold. “I’ve got you,” she murmured. “I’m right here.”

They stood like that for a long moment, just holding each other in the dark. His heart beat a steady rhythm beneath her ear, and gradually, the rigid set of his shoulders eased.

When they finally pulled apart, Rylan cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and Izzy’s breath caught in her throat.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

She covered his hand with her own. “I’ll always come when you call. You know that, right?”

Something flickered in his eyes, there and gone too quickly for her to decipher. He let his hands fall away and took a step back, putting some distance between them. “Come inside?”

Izzy nodded and followed him into the house, Valor padding alongside them. Rylan flicked on a lamp, bathing the living room in a warm glow. It was clean now, so different from the morning she and Zak and found him. She glanced around, taking in the simple but comfortable furnishings, the framed photos of his family and friends on the mantle, the books— a mix of heavy psychology texts and adventure novels—stacked two rows deep in the bookcase. It suited him, this space, when it wasn’t reeking of alcohol with empty bottles covering every surface.

Rylan moved to the kitchen, his movements a little stiff, as if he were trying to hold himself together. “You want something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

“Water’s fine,” Izzy replied, trailing after him. She leaned against the counter, watching as he filled two glasses from the tap. His prosthetic hand gripped the faucet with practiced ease, but she noticed a slight tremor in his left hand as he passed her a glass.

Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through her. Rylan’s eyes met hers, dark and intense, and for a moment Izzy forgot how to breathe.

“So,” she said, breaking the charged silence. “You want to talk about it?”

Rylan took a long sip of water, his throat working as he swallowed. When he set the glass down, his gaze was fixed on somewhere far away. He took a deep breath that moved his shoulders.

“Not really,” Rylan said, his voice low and rough. “But I probably should.”

He moved back to the living room, sinking onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Valor padded over and rested his head on Rylan’s knee. Izzy followed, perching on the edge of the cushion beside him.

Izzy watched as Rylan absently stroked Valor’s head, his gaze distant. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

“Shane took me to see Jax today,” Rylan finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Izzy’s eyes widened. “Jax? As in... your former teammate?”

Rylan nodded, still not meeting her gaze. “The one who tried to kill Shane and Alexis. Yeah, that Jax.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “And Shane took you there? How did that go?”

A humorless laugh escaped him. “About as well as you’d expect. It was...intense. Brought up a lot of shit I thought I’d buried.”

He fell silent again, his hand stilling on Valor’s fur. The dog whined softly, nudging Rylan’s knee.

“Ry,” Izzy said gently, reaching out to touch his arm. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“I told them something I’ve never told anyone before. About that night. The mission that went sideways.”

Her heart clenched at the pain in his voice. She reached out, hesitating for a moment before laying her hand on his arm. “What was it?”

Rylan’s eyes met hers, filled with a mixture of guilt and anguish. “I hesitated,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “There was a tango with an RPG. I had a clean shot, but I... I froze. Just for a second. But it was long enough.”

Izzy’s heart clenched at the raw pain in his voice. She squeezed his arm gently, encouraging him to continue.

“By the time I fired, it was too late. The RPG hit Alejandro’s position. And then everything went to hell.” His prosthetic hand clenched into a fist. “If I’d just taken the shot right away, maybe?—“

“Hey,” Izzy interrupted softly. “You can’t torture yourself with ‘maybes.’ You were what, twenty-two? Twenty-three? It was your first combat mission. Of course you hesitated.”

Rylan shook his head, his jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked near his temple. “I was trained not to hesitate. That’s what separates us from everyone else. We’re supposed to be able to pull the trigger when it counts. But I was a coward.“

“No. You’re human.” She took his left hand in hers. His fingers were ice cold. “Not only that, but you’re one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. You take on everyone’s pain like it’s your own. That’s what makes you so good at what you do now. That split-second of hesitation? That was your humanity showing through.”

His eyes met hers, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. “My humanity got people killed, Iz.”

“No,” she said firmly. “The enemy got people killed. You were just a kid thrust into an impossible situation.”

He pulled his hand away, running it through his hair. “I wasn’t a kid. I was a Navy SEAL. I had a job to do, and I fucked it up.”

The stubborn man. Frustration welled up inside her, and she did the only thing she could think to do to pull him out of this spiral of self-loathing he seemed determined to stay trapped in. She pushed him back into the cushions and straddled his lap, silencing his protest with a hard kiss.

Rylan froze for a split second, then melted into the kiss with a low groan. His hand came up to cup the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Rylan rested his forehead against hers. “Iz...” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Stop punishing yourself,” she whispered fiercely. “You’re a good man, Rylan Cross. The best I know. And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “Might take a while.”

“I’ve got time,” she replied, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone.

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching her face. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him, because the next thing she knew, he was kissing her again. This time it was hungry, almost desperate, like a drowning man gasping for air.

Izzy met his desperation with her own fierce need, letting the kiss consume her. Her hands slid beneath his shirt, fingers skimming over the hard planes of his stomach. Rylan hissed out a breath, his muscles contracting under her touch.

“Izzy,” he groaned against her mouth, her name almost like a prayer. “Are you sure about this?”

In answer, she tugged his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. Her hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the lines of his scars, the intricate tattoo that covered his left shoulder down to his wrist. The base of the design was a stormy ocean, dark waves crashing and swirling in shades of deep blue and gray. Rising from the tumultuous waters on the side of his chest was a golden trident and a weathered anchor entwined with rope. Three sets of dog tags dangled from the prong of the trident—one set for each member of his team he lost. Further down his arm mountain peaks emerged against the ocean, their jagged silhouettes framed against a glowing horizon streaked with fiery oranges and reds, as if caught in the moment of a sunrise—or a sunset. A compass rose dominated the back of his biceps, its needled pointing north, and around it swirled flames, the colors so vibrant and alive, she was almost surprised they didn’t burn her fingers as she traced them.

The entire sleeve was a masterpiece, every element seamlessly woven together in a way that felt alive, vibrant. It wasn’t just a tattoo. It was a story, an intricate blend of chaos and beauty, a perfect reflection of the man who wore it.

She trailed her fingers from the tattoo to the scars on the other side of his chest. His prosthetic arm glinted in the low light, and she leaned over, pressing her lips to the spot where metal met flesh. He was beautiful, this broken man she’d fallen so hard for. She wanted to map every inch of him with her hands, her lips, her tongue. She wanted to make him forget, just for a little while, the ghosts that haunted him.

“I’m sure,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “If you won’t love yourself, let me do it for you.”