Page 16 of Trapped Truth

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s going to be out of action for a while.” Warner’s brows pinch together. “And this fight isn’t going to wait for his wounds to heal.”

“Then we protect him. Simple.”

“When has this case ever been simple?” Warner shakes his head.

“We have the upper hand now that Madden’s operating from the shadows. He’s lost his base of operations and his biggest ally. Even if he makes a move against us, we’re ready to take him down.”

“Do we look ready to you?”

“Then we prepare.”

“It’s never that easy, Em. You should know that better than anyone. We don’t even know which country Madden is holed up in, preparing to strike us next.”

Seeing him so drained hurts more than I care to admit. All this time, Warner’s been the driving force behind our team’s fight for justice. He’s the constant, steady rock that keeps us all afloat, no matter the setbacks or complications with the case.

It must take its toll.

Bracing myself on the edge of the bed, we’re almost knee-to-knee, an inch of breathing space holding us apart. I rest a hand on his good leg, eliciting a minuscule smile.

“I’m not used to the roles being reversed,” I admit. “Usually you’re the one talking me back from the brink, not the other way around.”

“I’m sorry, love.”

“Don’t be. Back when I joined Sabre, you told me this is what teams do. We bring our worries to each other then solve any issues as a family.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Then let me share the burden with you.”

With a weary nod, his hands clasp mine. His grip is firm. Steadfast. A silent promise that no matter how far this case drives us to the edge of no return, we’ll always have each other. Just like a real family.

“You should sleep.” I study the smudges under his eyes. “Axel’s doing fine, and for now, we’re safe.”

“Only if you come with me.”

“Someone should stay with him.”

“I’ll send Hyland in here.” Warner tugs on my hands. “He just got a couple hours sleep. Come on.”

Reluctantly, I rise from the bed and hand him the borrowed walking stick tucked against his chair. I don’t know where he found it, but I’m thankful he’s off his prosthetic for a while, at least.

The cabin is eerily quiet in the low light. I’m not sure where Blaine has skulked off to, but Hyland presses a kiss to my temple as he passes us to take over Axel duty. I’m guided towards the back of the cabin by Warner’s spare hand on my waist.

“Here, we can use this room.” He gently clicks the door of the master bedroom shut behind us. “Maybe it’s best if we leave town. I’m not sure how much longer we can go on living in each other’s hair like this.”

“Don’t fancy getting up close and personal with Blaine?” I snort.

“Not particularly, no.”

“You surprise me.”

“Watch it, Em.” Warner sits on the end of the bed, tugging off his T-shirt. “I’m not so tired I can’t punish you for being a brat.”

“Promises, promises.”

While leaner than Hyland with his mountain-like bulk, Warner’s no less trim and muscular. His chest, stomach and arms are corded, packing well-honed strength built over years of patient endurance.