Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

None of us spoke until after McQuade closed the door on the bedroom, leaving her inside. It made me itch to have her out of sight. It had earlier when she’d been unconscious. Letting her sleep had been the right call. Whatever doubts I may have had cleared away when we got a good look at her injuries…

“She needs a doctor,” I said, revisiting a subject the three of us had been dancing around.

“Agreed,” McQuade said with a shrug. “The problem is we need one we can trust, implicitly. I won’t risk her.”

“We may be risking her by not taking her. She needs antibiotics.”

“We can get her those,” the stubborn mercenary argued. “The only reason we haven’t so far is we don’t know what, if any, allergies she might have. She’s awake now—we can ask her.”

“When she wakes up again,” Remington stated. The assassin was on his feet and gathering up her dishes. I hadn’t missed that he waited on her, but he just prepped stuff for us.

Worked for me.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I turned over what details she’d shared. I hadn’t missed how she held back. Why shouldn’t she? I’d trust her with my life and my freedom. No question.

I had trusted her. No one had to tell me that Remington and McQuade were the same. We’d all trusted her. She was our operator. The woman we called when we needed anything and she’d never let me down.

Not once.

So of course we trusted her.

“She doesn’t trust us.” Maybe it was obvious to them and I was slower on the uptake. But I’d spent the past couple of hours hoping she would trust us, tell us who hurt her, and let us take care of it.

“We can hardly blame her,” Remington said, turning from where he’d finished washing up their precious few dishes. Arms folded, he leaned back against the counter and stared out at me.

“I don’t blame her,” McQuade said, the gruff tone punching up the sobriety in his words. “She hasn’t had a reason to trust us as we have her.”

That was it in a nutshell.

“But, I think our actions will settle that debt soon enough.” McQuade shrugged. “We can’t do anything else. Who sleeps next?”

“Not tired.” It was a lie, to a point. I was tired, but I didn’t think I’d sleep. Not while I was trying to figure out who was behind this and what we should do. “We could go back… two of us anyway. Clear out that site.”

“If they haven’t already erased it,” Remington said. The measured delivery didn’t betray an emotional involvement. The more I got to know him, however, the more I recognized the reserve was just a part of him. “McQuade and I have already discussed cleaning it out, and appropriating anything of hers they may have taken.”

“If we can identify it,” McQuade said, reclaiming his mug. The cup seemed too small for his massive hands. Almost dainty, but he didn’t seem troubled by it. “Frankly, I don’t really care what they took so much as making sure they aren’t alive to exploit it—or her.”

Couldn’t really argue with that. Except…

“I want to just agree,” I admitted. “But I don’t. Because I don’t want to invade where she doesn’t want us.”

“We’re not planning on using whatever we find to hurt her.” In fact, McQuade sounded insulted that I might even be suggesting it as a possibility.

“If I thought you would—I’d shoot you myself.” It wasn’t an idle threat. I didn’t have their experience or training, but it wouldn’t stop me from trying to protect her. Our gazes locked for a long moment, then he nodded once.

Acceptable damage.

“It feels invasive,” Remington said, speaking slowly as though he needed to inspect each word, “because she doesn’t owe us any explanation. We want to know because we want to protect her. There is a fine difference.”

McQuade glared. “None of us have the info we need to eliminate the threat. How are we supposed to get her secure and walk away if we don’t know what threat to eliminate and make sure it’s gone? We need to know to protect her.”

“She didn’t ask to come and she’s never made us any promises except that she would be there when we needed her.” Then she wasn’t. It made all of us come running. “She’s kept those promises. That she was taken at all—not her fault.”

“Nor hers that we came.” Remington seemed to understand me, but McQuade’s irritation climbed.

“So what do you want us to do? Pack it up and walk away? She’s out…we did our part. So we leave?” Every single word was a damn insult and he had to know it.

“No,” I told him. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until she tells me to get lost and for the moment—particularly while she’s hurt and in the field? I probably won’t go away then. I’ll stick with her until she’s got control back.”

I’d also attempt to change her mind. Now that I was here, I didn’t want to be anywhere else. McQuade’s scowl and brusque attitude didn’t faze me. Apparently, grumpy was his love language or communication style—personality defect?

“I ain”t budging till she”s safe. End of story.” Remington and I really were absolutely on the same page.

“I want to know everything,” I told them, setting my cards on the table. “We’re here now, we can be effective now. We might have helped to get her out, but she isn’t safe—not yet. As long as the threat is out there, she’ll never be safe.”

“We can eliminate all the threats.” McQuade gave a shrug as he stood. He was the only one who hadn’t gotten any rest since we began the operation. It might be time for him to take some shuteye. “We just need to identify them.”

Then again, he said he didn’t sleep while on an op. Not more than doze, which was why he’d taken first watch. If he was that light of a sleeper, it would be easier on him than having to listen to us moving around.

“My point,” I said before I downed the last of my coffee. There wasn’t enough caffeine to keep me awake much longer. She needed to rest and heal before we got on the move again. I’d ask about her drug allergies and everything else when she was up.

Acquiring broad spectrum antibiotics was not a problem. We’d passed a few pharmacies on the way in. I just needed the names.

“We can’t make her tell us anything.” At the end of the day, that was my final word on it. “We can ask, we can infer, we wait—but we can’t demand it. As we’ve established, she doesn’t owe us. We need to earn her trust.”

“That might take time we don’t have.” McQuade punctuated the mutter with a grunt. Then he rubbed the back of his neck. “We might not have another choice though. We’ll make the time.”

“Exactly.”

It was nice to know that while he might be a grumpy bastard, he did see sense. I caught Remington’s nod. We were all on the same page.

“You still need rest,” I told McQuade. “I’ve had four hours and so has Remington.”

“I told you, I don’t sleep on a mission.”

“Well this isn’t just a mission anymore,” Remington told him. “It’s likely going to be a long-term op. You need sleep so that when you have to watch our backs, you can.”

McQuade scowled. I got it. I really did, but… “Maintaining that level of alertness on no rest is not healthy for any of us. Not to mention, your sweet personality doesn’t need any more reasons to get grumpier.”

His dark look seemed permanently etched onto his face. Then the corners of his mouth twitched. When I raised my eyebrows, he let out another grunt.

“You know, I still don’t get why no one has shot you yet.” Grousing tone or not, he was almost smiling.

“It’s just a hallmark of how much more likable I am than you are. Try smiling once in a while, it’s good for your mental health.”

The absolute snort he released at that statement made me grin. So many battles could be avoided if you knew how to talk a person down. Charm could disarm even better than a weapon.

Sometimes.

The door to the bedroom opened and I rose to my feet even as Remington and McQuade turned to her. Patch limped out, every slow, carefully measured step made me hurt for her.

It was why McQuade had carried her inside. The last thing she should be doing was walking out. I took a step forward and I wasn’t alone, they moved as well.

Only the fact she raised her hand stopped us.

“I know you wanted me to sleep,” she said slowly, reaching the back of the sofa where she planted her bruised and battered hands. Leaning there, she looked from one of us to the others then back. “I’m tired—I need sleep. But…”

Her lips compressed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I assured her. “We just discussed that you owe us nothing. Right now—you need to figure out if you can trust us the way we trust you.”

The tightness around her eyes deepened. The fact her hair was pale like cornsilk that had been dipped into chocolate at the ends was a captivating look. Maybe because I always expected her to be a little more buttoned down, maybe even prim and proper.

At the same time, it suited her. Off-beat, independent, and very much her own thing. She wasn’t going to fit in anyone’s box.

“I am so grateful that you came,” she said, the rasp in her voice revealed another layer to the damage she’d taken. “You want to help me and that’s—amazing. The thing is, no matter how grateful I am, I can’t ask you for more. I can’t ask you to fight this battle.”

Because it was a battle. At least she wasn’t pretending it was anything else.

“You didn’t ask,” McQuade said. “You never ask.”

“Nor do you have to,” Remy added. We’d say it as many times as we had to in order to make sure she understood.

“Maybe you don’t want to answer because you have secrets to keep and to protect. I get it.” Their silent nods added agreement. “But currently, you’re injured and without us you’re in the open. Not a place any of us are planning to leave you, whether you answer or not.”

Blowing out a breath, I locked my gaze on hers. Charm wouldn’t work here. Nor would brow beating. We had to keep this as logical and precise as possible.

The devil, as it were, was always in the detail.

“We came looking for you because you’ve always been there. When I needed you, you always answered. When I wanted a way out, you found it. When I needed a trace, you dug up the information. You are always there for us, no matter what.”

“Then you weren’t,” McQuade stated, the gruffness seemed less sharp now as though he’d sanded it down just for her. “You weren’t and I had to know why. I had to know you were alright.”

“Same,” I promised. “So you don’t have to ask us. We’re here. You know what we can do. Use us. Use our skills. Put us to work, Patch. Whether you are Fallon or not, or even want to tell us why or what, we’re here now. We’re not going anywhere. Use us.”

“Yes,” Remy said slowly. “Talk to us.”