Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,35

and I will rescue her from the rubble your brother left in his wake.”

An ache blossomed in her chest. She wanted that. The admission loomed in her brain, but reality shoved it aside. She couldn’t risk opening that vault she’d shoved her former self into.

Focus on the anger.

“Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t you dare think I’m a prize to win. She’s gone, you know. She died way before Peter when the only person she…”

Addy bit back the rest of the reply. She wouldn’t give him a look into what remained of the Addy he remembered. He didn’t deserve to win this so-called war because he’d been AWOL for nineteen years when he’d left on the mission for the camp and never returned.

He’d left.

“She’s in there,” he whispered.

Then he took a step back and turned to face Gavriil as he entered the room. Though only a couple minutes had passed, Addy felt as though she’d run a hundred miles in the desert. Tumultuous memories banged around in her brain. For those few minutes, she’d forgotten she was an Arsenal operative on a mission. She’d been nothing more than a woman wishing to hell the man she’d once trusted more than anyone would bridge the gap between them with the answers she so desperately wanted.

Why had he left her back then?

Why was someone trying to kill him?

Why did she even care?

A knock sounded at the living room entry. Gage entered, concern on his face when his gaze locked with hers. “We’re ready for the others.”

Right. Addy nodded and refocused on what mattered. The mission.

Kristof Lavrov was a memory. Nothing more. He’d ghost from her life once the missiles were secure. Then she’d move on like she always did.

Kristof was an idiot. He bit back the curse rising in his throat as Maksim drove them toward his home. It’d taken three hours to get the women settled with what they needed. A different Arsenal team arrived on a private plane and took over their transport out of Russia.

He’d observed Zoey’s processing of the women from a distance as Addy sat with the women and translated whatever it was the brilliant woman on the computer needed. None of the personnel present made an attempt to disarm the blonde Addy had given her knife to.

Everything had gone smoother than he’d expected since The Arsenal was in charge. They were far more formidable and honorable than even he’d realized.

Which was why he was an idiot. He’d lost his patience and declared his intentions when Addy was cornered and not alone. How many of her teammates had heard what he’d said? Likely everyone. Though no one approached him, he’d noted the glares and hostile stances as they kept him at the fringes of the airport hangar.

Away from Addy.

No.

Away from the women.

Now that they were secured and outside his father’s reach, Kristof needed to separate himself from Addy and everyone else long enough to speak with the bastard who’d been kept on the back burner too long.

If Kristof had moved faster to take him down, maybe the women wouldn’t have been taken.

No.

He couldn’t blame himself for that. Still, the guilt burned. Keeping the truth about what happened nineteen years ago and why and who he truly was from Addy was harder than he’d imagined it’d be.

The divide between him and Addy was greater than he’d realized. Everything he’d done the past two decades was what she reviled. How could he undo the damage he’d inflicted and gain ground with her?

Did he even deserve to try?

“You aren’t listening to me,” Addy said.

“Sorry, I was thinking of what I must do next.” Focusing on the mission was common ground he could safely traverse with Addy. Their training within the camp had conditioned them both to focus on the assignment and erase their identities.

“Which is?”

“It’ll wait until the morning.” He glanced over at the woman seated beside him and realized the car had pulled up outside his estate outside Moscow.

Addy’s brow furrowed. She rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. Frustration rose in him. “You have a headache.”

“How did you know?” Her eyes widened.

“Whenever you rub your temples and squeeze your eyes shut you always reach for the bottle of pills in your purse. The com you wear all the time gives you headaches because you never get a moment alone. Do you?”

“That’s not your problem,” she said.

He didn’t argue even though he should. Had she told Zoey or anyone at The Arsenal she needed time away from the com? Rather