if he wasn’t sure she could handle it. And judging from what I’ve seen today, she can. Besides, she’ll have to go in at some point,” he said. “At some point she’ll have to face him.”
Sterling didn’t like his expression. “What do you mean?”
“Morrow has been texting her phone. Demanding that she return to the office. If her cover is going to hold water, she’ll have to go in.”
Holy God. A volcano erupted in Sterling’s belly. “And when she does?”
“And when she does, we’ll have her back.”
“Will we?”
Steele clapped him on the shoulder. “We will. I promise. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” A grumble.
“If she joins the team, she’s one of us. You understand?”
Yeah. He liked the sound of that. If she joined the team, she wouldn’t leave him and—
His heart stilled. His mind spun.
And yeah. Fuck. That was it. He didn’t want to lose her. Couldn’t lose her.
Steele studied him. “Are you gonna to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” He turned away, though he had no idea where he was going. Just away. Just somewhere where he could think. Sort this out. It was—
“And Sterling?” His boss’s call stopped him in his tracks.
“Yeah?”
“Take a good look in the mirror.”
Sterling’s brow knitted. “In the mirror?”
“Yeah. Because what I see in your face is the same expression I see on mine whenever I think of Elena.”
Fuck.
But Steele wasn’t done. He leaned in and said softly, “It’s time to let Dancer go.”
The words echoed in his heart and his soul and his mind, twined with the horror of her scream as she fell.
It’s time to let Dancer go.
Release his hold on the past and open up to something new? Maybe something less illusive than wispy dreams and clouded memories?
The thought scared him to death. But somewhere, deep inside, a sprig sprouted. It felt very much like hope. With a dash of need.
* * *
Sterling had to get away. He needed to breathe. To process.
Steele was right. He usually was. It was time to let Dancer go. Time to release the hold her death had on him. Release the guilt. It wasn’t his fault she’d died. Any one of them could have bought it in that clusterfuck. It just killed him that he’d had to witness it. That he couldn’t help her. Save her.
And now, this.
Now Steele wanted to send Roni in. Into the line of fire.
Granted, there might not be actual bullets, but Morrow was in bed with the cartel, and God knew who else. He was a dangerous man, and they were plotting to subvert his operation. If he found out…
If he found out…
Sterling’s blood went cold.
To clear his head, he headed up top. Partly to get away from the sight of Roni and Ant with their heads so close together—it made his gut knot—partly to think in peace, and partly to clean his place. Ant was right. It was a disaster, and if he was bringing Roni here tonight—and he fully intended to, come hell or high water—he didn’t want to scare her.
It took him a couple hours to clear out the empty beer cans and pizza boxes, scrub down the toilet and wash the sheets. By the time he was done, it was early evening. A trickle of excitement washed through him. He couldn’t wait to get her alone. It had been far too long.
Of course, he had to acknowledge, things had changed between them since they’d last made love. Now he knew who she really was and vice versa. It was possible that she wouldn’t want to be with him again. And if that was the case, fine.
It would suck—more than he might be able to bear—but fine.
He would still do what he could to help her. Help her get her sister back. Help protect her. Even if, when this was all over, she never wanted to see him again.
It irritated him to no end that when he went back to the command center to collect her, she and Ant were sitting at the table and laughing. Laughing. A ripple danced down his spine. First, because he loved the sound of her laughter. And second, because she’d never laughed like that with him.
When she caught sight of his glower, for surely that was what it was, she blinked. Her laughter trailed away. He didn’t like that either. That his presence could sober her so. He couldn’t help but shift his glower to Ant, who grinned knowingly. The fucker.
Sterling cleared the gall from his throat. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, ignoring