“SHE FUCKED ALL OF US, and you don’t have a problem with it?” Garrison was griping at Blaze. “Because in all the years I’ve known you, I never thought you’d be into swinging like that.”
He’d been going off on Blaze since the moment we’d reached the rooftop deck, but Julius and I needed a moment to process. I stood back, leaning against the wall and thinking about the signs that I’d noticed and written off as something insignificant. Was Julius thinking the same?
“She’s allowed to make her own decisions. If it bothers you that much, don’t sleep with her again,” Blaze said, stating it as if it was the most obvious solution to the problem. And I supposed it was, even if the thought of not sleeping with her again sent a twinge of loss through me that clashed with the flare of jealousy when I remembered seeing her tangled up in the other man’s embrace.
Julius stepped forward, and the two of them fell silent. “How long has this been going on?” he asked in a no-nonsense tone.
Blaze gazed steadily back at him. “Today was the first time we ever hooked up—or did anything remotely close to hooking up. You saw how she reacted to me the first time I got flirty with her.” He paused, and a hint of a smile curled his lips despite the situation, one so pleased it provoked a renewed jab of possessiveness in my chest. “We got that all sorted out.”
“Wonderful,” Garrison groused, and turned to Julius. “It was only once for me too—that we slept together. The evening before the L.A. job. We fucked up here while the rest of you were out doing prep work.”
He spoke callously, but I couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t clarify the way Blaze had about interactions that fell short of “fucking.” He’d been the most obviously upset out of the four of us. Just how entangled had the two of them gotten?
At the same time, my mind was doing its own simple calculations. Unless Julius had welcomed Dess into his bed sometime before our threesome, which it certainly hadn’t seemed like in the moment, I was the only one who’d been with her before we’d known who she actually was. I’d been the first.
Should I feel triumphant about that fact? I didn’t really. The brief flickers of jealousy had faded, and now I only felt a dull discomfort when I thought about Dess waiting downstairs, shut out of our discussion despite how much it involved her.
She hadn’t committed a cardinal sin. She hadn’t betrayed any of us, not really. Our feelings were our own to deal with, weren’t they?
Maybe I only thought that because I rarely had much of any feelings to do anything about, but I didn’t like remembering the frustration and pain that’d shown so clearly on her face when Julius and Garrison had chided her in their own ways—and when we’d left her behind.
“What about you and Talon?” Garrison asked, his narrowed eyes flicking between us.
“Also once, on the way back from the convention center,” Julius said. “It sounds like this hasn’t been an ongoing situation then. She’s just… given each of us a try.”
I couldn’t tell how he felt about that idea, but the need to correct his mistaken assumption prickled at me, alongside Garrison’s earlier remark about lies of omission. I wasn’t sure it’d make a difference, but I wasn’t going to leave our boss with the wrong information.
“Actually,” I said brusquely, “she and I also ended up getting together once before we found out about her real identity.”
Blaze’s eyebrows shot up in a surprised reaction that might have offended me if he didn’t have way more of a reputation as a ladies’ man than I’d ever possessed.
Garrison’s eyes only narrowed further. “You got it on with her when we weren’t even sure if she was the enemy?”
I frowned at him. “She wasn’t, and I didn’t compromise the crew in any way.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he demanded.
I gave him an even stare. “Why should I have? I didn’t see how it was anyone else’s business. It didn’t affect the crew.”
“Yes, of course you’d see it that way.”
“Hey,” Blaze broke in. “I didn’t hear you announcing your involvement with her from the rooftops—even though that’s apparently where it happened.”
“Because I thought it was just me,” Garrison retorted, and sighed. “Which obviously we all did. Well, except you two, it seems.” He studied me and Julius in an evaluating way I didn’t totally like.
“How we conduct our own private business isn’t any of your concern either,” Julius replied.
Garrison threw his hands toward the sky. “It isn’t just private business anymore, is it? Look at us! We were thinking of bringing her into the crew permanently, and she has us at each other’s throats. How can we trust someone who’d create this much turmoil?”
I didn’t think Garrison trusted much of anyone anyway. But Julius stirred on his feet with unusual restlessness. “That is a point that’s weighing on my mind.”
Even Blaze was silent for a moment. The discomfort inside me congealed into a heavier ache.
Dess hadn’t done any of this intentionally. From her reaction, she hadn’t understood that what she’d done might bother us at all. She hadn’t liked that she’d upset us—I’d been able to see that much in her face—but she simply hadn’t viewed the situation the same way we had.
Some core part of me resonated with understanding and sympathy. How many times throughout my life had people gotten pissed off at me for not feeling the “right” way or as much as they thought I should? Teachers prodding me with concerned questions, my fellow soldiers joking that I should be sent to a shrink, friends and lovers from all the way back to my early teens shouting at me or turning their backs on me because I didn’t perform to expectations. I’d always wished they could just accept that I simply didn’t feel much of anything.
The crew had been the one group where that didn’t matter. But they didn’t seem to be able to extend that same recognition of our differences to Dess. After the brainwashing she’d been through, she had even more of an excuse to look at the world differently than I did, so why the hell were they demanding she fit their idea of a “correct” intimate relationship?
The strange thing was, I did feel something now. That ache, and a heat that pulsed from it with the determination to defend her. She’d woken up more emotion in me than I’d known I was capable of. Even if that still wasn’t much, it showed she was something special. She deserved some kind of recognition. Or at least respect.
My brothers-in-arms had started sniping at each other again while I’d been lost in thought. “She’s fucked up everything,” Garrison muttered. “And we all let that happen.” He shot an accusing glance at Blaze.
“Including you,” Julius said darkly.
My fingers curled into my palms. This was my crew. They had my absolute loyalty, and I’d have killed a hundred men for any of them. But in this moment, I had the intense urge to knock their heads together until I could snap them out of this fit of jealousy they seemed unable to shake off.
Garrison shook his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting with each other anyway when it was Dess who did this.”
My voice erupted out of me. “Dess didn’t do anything wrong. Actually, she’s totally right. She doesn’t belong to any one of us, and we’re lucky she wants all of us in whatever ways she does. She’s an impressive woman who makes her own decisions, so who the hell are we to try to tell her what to do?”
The other men gaped at me, even Julius in a more subtle way than the others. I guessed I didn’t often speak this much or so emphatically.
Blaze let out a low whistle that could have been teasing or approving. I shot him a quick glower before continuing.
“Frankly, after the way she’s been controlled and manipulated for her whole life, it’s wrong of us to even suggest that we have some claim on deciding how she’s supposed to feel about us—or sex—or anything. I know she matters to all of us, and you know it too. What’s the point in denying it? Do any of you really want to give her up just because you’re not going to be the only man she turns to? We’re a team in every other way. Why can’t we be a team when it comes to taking care of Dess?”
I hadn’t known I had quite that much frustration built up in me. Maybe it was flowing over from all the irritations I’d suppressed over the years. After the last words had burst from my mouth, a wave of exhaustion rolled over me, as if I’d scaled a skyscraper rather than making a relatively short declaration. Although for me, I supposed the latter was the more difficult act.
My colleagues seemed to be absorbing my words, each of them studying me in their own way. The animosity in the air simmered down. Blaze was the first to speak up.
“Yes. Everything Talon just said. That’s exactly how I feel about it.” He gave me a grateful nod.
Julius dragged in a breath. The fresh outside air swept over us with a gust of breeze, and he rubbed his close-cropped hair after the wind ruffled it. “I can see you have a point,” he said finally.
Garrison’s mouth had twisted. He dipped his head for a second, and I realized he looked almost… embarrassed. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him show any kind of reaction so humble before.
“Okay,” he said, still with a bit of an edge in his voice. “Maybe I went a bit overboard. I mean, it took us all by surprise, right? And because she’s started to become… important to me, I didn’t like the fact that she’d been with all of you too.” He hesitated, and then his tone steadied more. “But this crew also means a hell of a lot to me, and I wouldn’t be part of it if you weren’t people I’d trust to treat her right.”
I folded my arms over my chest and frowned at him. “We’re going to be lucky if she wants anything to do with any of us after the way we just came down on her.”
Blaze motioned toward the door to the stairwell. “I’d say we owe her a pretty huge apology.”
Garrison followed his gesture, and his posture briefly stiffened. But then something softened in his expression. He nodded. “Right.”
Julius echoed his nod. The tension seemed to be seeping out of his stance. He drew his back straighter, his usual authoritative presence filling the space. “We obviously need to keep lines of communication more open than they have been, but yes. We can start that process by going down and talking with her to clear the air. Hopefully she’ll at least be willing to listen.”
I followed the others down the stairs with relief coursing through me. It would all be okay in the end. We could straighten out this mess and get back to the things that mattered.
But when we emerged into the main room of the apartment, Dess had vanished. We glanced around, Julius heading over to the workout room that’d become her bedroom, Garrison poking his head past the door to the bathroom which stood ajar. As they both turned away with expressions that told me they hadn’t found her, Blaze leapt toward the sofa.
He snatched up his laptop. “Oh, shit.”
We all spun toward him. “What?” Julius asked.
“My image search turned up a match for that teardrop symbol,” he said. “It’s near here… I’ll have to check exactly where… She must have gone out to take a look while we had our heads up our asses.”
My gut dropped. “The pricks who want her back are still hunting for her, aren’t they?”
Blaze nodded, looking miserable. “And there might be a few mercenary groups who haven’t stopped looking to collect the bounty. I know she can handle herself… but she’s completely on her own out there right now.”
“Then we need to get to her now,” Julius commanded, flinging open the cupboard near the front door to grab his bulletproof vest. “Gear up and move out. We’re not letting her face any kind of trouble alone.”
