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  “Huh” was Jesse’s only response.

  Seeing no need to further explain, Ken grasped the armrests and prepared to stand so he could clean out his locker and return his issued gear.

  Jesse surprised him with, “When have you failed me and HIS?”

  He should’ve resigned with AJ—the baby brother—instead of Jesse. It might’ve been easier.

  Ken dropped his hands back to his lap. “Well, there’s this.” He gestured to his hip.

  “While I’d rather you hadn’t been shot, you prevented our client from being killed. I don’t see the failure.”

  Frustration slipped into his bloodstream at Jesse’s pushing back. “It was my fault she was in that situation.”

  “No, it wasn’t. She ignored your directions. That would’ve happened to any of us.” Jesse drew his brows into a V-shape. “What else? It can’t be only this instance. I know you better than that. You’re not a quitter.”

  The words slammed into his chest and he wanted to puff up and argue, but he had been a quitter this time. The team deserved better. He’d make Jesse understand. “Let’s start with Madison. I made a stupid move and she almost got shot.”

  Jesse steepled his fingers and tapped his two forefingers together. “You did right by attempting to clear the place. Besides, my new sister-in-law appreciates you taking a bullet for her. Excuse me, a bullet graze.” Jesse waved his hand in a gesture that said his statement had been no big deal and he needed to continue bringing it on.

  “Well, there’s Caitlyn. I didn’t leave the house protected.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one, but only because I think you should’ve hit my brother over the head to knock some sense into him. Because he was crazy in love with Caitlyn, Matt had taken the lead from you, and he shouldn’t have. We promised in the field that you’d lead. I’m sorry to say that with those women who have since become our wives, we haven’t lived up to that bargain. We all got a bit emotional.”

  Ken raised his eyebrows and almost tossed his head back in an unexpected full belly laugh. The men had gone over the top with their women. He’d never seen the like before. Thank goodness they were all married. “A bit?”

  With that, Jesse smirked and squirmed. “This isn’t about my brothers or me. This is about you. What else do you have, because I’m not seeing why you should resign unless you have a better job?” He cocked his head and quirked that damn brow again.

  Something told him he already knew Ken’s answer. “No, sir.”

  “You don’t like us anymore?”

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think Jesse was enjoying this. “I like the team, but that’s not what this is about.”

  “Hmm.”

  Damn him. Maybe if he thumped Jesse over the head with his computer monitor, he’d fire him and this would be done. Ken cleared his throat and wished he’d grabbed a bottle of water for his dry mouth and parched throat. “Look, you know what happened in Kate’s case.”

  “I don’t blame you for that, Ken, and neither does my wife. You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened.”

  With deep sorrow, Ken closed his eyes a moment before speaking and looked at Jesse’s blue shirt since he couldn’t look him in the eye. “Les.”

  Jesse stiffened. “You weren’t even there. You went to take care of your mother after your father passed away.”

  “But I should’ve been there.”

  Heaving a heavy sigh, Jesse stared at Ken as if assessing him with a new eye. “This is stupid. You know things can and will go wrong, no matter how much planning and preparation goes into it. Our clients’ actions sometimes create unexpected problems. You’re doing an exceptional job with us. We’ve had hundreds of ops go well, and I attribute that to you. Don’t let the few that didn’t stay with you. You know to learn from them and move on. In fact, you’re the one who told me that when I kept trying to dwell on the team failures our ops suffered in the middle east. Listen to your own advice.”

  He had said that and was surprised Jesse still remembered it—and had listened to it. In no way did he want to leave HIS. It just seemed the right thing to do. It left him conflicted about Sam, but he’d led her on that assignment that could’ve gotten her killed. That wasn’t the right way to protect her.

  Of course, with Jesse not accepting his resignation, he could do one of two things—walk out without a backward glance, or stay. With everything in him, he wanted to stay, but the fear of failure rested there heavier than it ever had. And one of those times, Sam could pay the price and he couldn’t live with that.

  He wasn’t due back from his medical leave for a while so he could work on controlling that emotion. His concern for Sam had gnawed at him for years, and when he’d finally been able to do something about it, he’d screwed up. She’d come to trust him and he couldn’t lose that. They couldn’t lose it. It’d become the foundation of their personal and professional relationships.

  Inside, a switch flipped, as if new life had been breathed back into him. It shouldn’t be so easy to change his mind, but, dammit, he didn’t want to leave these courageous men and women. He wanted to stand by them. To fight the battles that matter.

  “Okay, I’ll stay.” With those words, his heart lightened and something inside told him he’d made the right choice. He shouldn’t have allowed his despair to overwhelm him into making the wrong decision.

  “Good,” Jesse agreed. “Now tell me what’s going on between you and Sam.”

  Shit. She’s had my heart since the day we met didn’t seem the appropriate answer, even though it held the truth. If I have anything to say about it, we’re about to become more than friends probably wasn’t the right thing to say either. No matter if he stayed or left, he’d have requested this one thing. Staying as the team leader gave him a stronger voice for it. He only hoped she’d forgive him.

  Ken cleared his throat so he’d have the firmness in his voice to match the resolution he held in his statement. With a desire to see her safe, he didn’t even blink when he stated, “About that….”

  2

  Moving away from the toxic environment in Columbus, Georgia, had been good for Samantha. Although not free of her internal demons, she enjoyed her new life. In general, being happy and positive had become easier, except when someone tried to be overprotective or treat her as if she couldn’t hold her own. Thankfully—and unfortunately—only one person did that at HIS. Ken Patrick. The tall, brown-eyed hunk who rode a Harley and wore his longer blond hair in a low ponytail, appealed to her, more than he should.

  With a heavy heart and her cell on speakerphone, Samantha Milton sliced a tomato to make a BLT sandwich. The tantalizing aroma of bacon floated through the house, making her mouth water and her stomach rumble. While she fixed her lunch, her best friend Beverly Shodun, in her heavy southern accent—Georgian to be specific—continued her rant. This time it referred to her perceived injustice of the men who’d deployed with her husband being alive while he was dead and buried. At some point during the tirade, Sam realized she could repeat the outburst word for word since she’d heard it so often.

  Since Bev’s husband’s funeral, her bitterness only deepened. To this day, her friend still blamed Jesse and Ken for both of their husbands’ deaths on that ill-fated op. Worse, she wanted the army to charge and hang them. Yes, she wanted hanging as their punishment.

  Over the last ten years, Sam had overcome that initial shock of seeing the army chaplain and her husband’s battalion commander walk up her drive and knock on the front door to share the news of Lance’s death while on a “training op.” Training op, my ass. Lance hadn’t broken OPSEC and told her about the op—location and threat. He’d promised to come home to her. She hadn’t expected it to be in a US flag-draped coffin.

  After each seeing the two men bearing life-changing information, she and Bev grieved together. Initially, they laid the blame on anyone and ev
eryone they could. After her mind cleared, Sam came to terms with her husband’s death as no one’s fault but the foreign renegades who’d killed him. Ken had risked his career by explaining to her what had actually happened. He’d called them “tangos,” but she used “renegades.” Ken tried to be a rock and help her through her grief—whenever she’d allow it.

  Memories rushed forward, and Sam closed her eyes for a moment to absorb the force of all that had been powerful in her married life. Lance Milton had been a good husband who’d always been there for her with the right words, the perfect touch, and more love than she thought anyone could share.

  Sam sniffed and closed her eyes again, but this time to ward off the tears trying to break free. Prior to his final op, Lance had told her that if he died, he didn’t want her to continue to grieve, that she had to live… and to love again. Neither of them had any idea how difficult—if not impossible—that task would be. In jest, he’d suggested she marry his best friend, Ken Patrick.

  “I still can’t believe you work for them,” Bev spat.

  Heck, Sam had been so lost in thought she’d missed all Bev was saying. Until now. She knew by “them” her friend meant Jesse Hamilton and Ken Patrick, the leadership on the fatal op that cost her and Bev everything. Well, not everything for Bev. She had a son with her husband. Unfortunately, Adam Shodun never had the opportunity to see his only son. Bev had been pregnant when he’d left for the final time, and she’d delivered not long after she’d become a widow.

  Before Sam could form an appropriate response, Bev continued. “I still can’t believe the army didn’t discipline them.” Her venomous response shouldn’t have startled Sam, but she hadn’t been ready for it.

  When she realized her friend paused, as if waiting for Sam to speak, she sighed. Dropping her head, Sam squeezed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and said, “Bev, I’ve told you this before; it’s a primo job. It’s elite and difficult to get hired into, even with all my years on the police force. I love it and am glad I’m here.”

  Seeing Ken again after so long, feeling the heated connection between them, had sent her spiraling. While the memorable kisses they’d shared long ago had touched her heart and imprinted themselves on her soul, and if truth be told, still haunted her, she’d been slow to open her lonely heart to a possible future for them.

  “But they just left you home while they went out to save the world.”

  Sam shook her head at the uninformed statement. “No, they didn’t. I mean,” she corrected, “I didn’t go, but a few members, including Jesse and Ken, didn’t either.” She halted and almost clamped her hand over her mouth. Knowing how much her friend hated the two men, she’d just given her the opening for another tirade.

  Ignoring her response, Bev plowed forward. “You were doing fine on SWAT. I don’t see why you had to leave and move so far away. I miss having you here. Brunch on Sunday isn’t the same. All the other wives talk about are their new husbands and kids. You were the only other single woman.”

  Her appetite gone, Sam left her sandwich on the counter and strode into the living room, then dropped onto the red leather couch that came with the apartment. Sam would’ve chosen differently, maybe a nice vintage piece like she’d had when she lived near Bev. Instead of moving everything, she’d sold anything and everything and chosen a furnished apartment. Thank goodness Bev wasn’t here; she would have gone nuts over the poor taste the owner had and pushed to have him refurnish it. When Sam purchased her own place, it would be away from it all, and she’d decorate it to her taste. She just wasn’t sure where that place would be. Sometimes she saw herself and Ken furnishing a place together. Then a slight uncertainty about remarrying crept into the dream. Not an uncertainty about Ken but about her feeling she’d be cheating on Lance. It made no sense since her husband was dead, but when did love make sense? Or in her case with Ken, likes a lot.

  But Bev only cared about having her best friend close, and Sam couldn’t fault her for that. What bothered Sam was that her friend knew how painful talking about the issue she’d faced on the force was for her, yet Bev regularly brought up the subject. “You know the men on SWAT were harassing me. I’m strong, but I didn’t want to take it anymore.” She’d worked hard for her spot with the team, but the men didn’t want a woman working with them.

  Needing to change the subject before Bev went on a rant about that, Sam tried again, hoping for a different answer. “Bev, why don’t you move up here? Since you don’t have to work, you’re free to live where you want.”

  “I’m not leaving Adam’s home.”

  Sam sighed in disappointment. Her friend just wouldn’t let Adam’s death go enough to move her life forward. No one expected her to forget Adam and the life they’d shared. Bev needed to rebuild her life and no one could get her to do that.

  She worried about the effect Bev’s behavior had on Cody—Bev’s son. Being an honorary aunt, when Sam hadn’t been working, she’d taken Cody away for some special time. Unfortunately, by the time he’d reached the age of six, he’d figured out his mom wasn’t normal. Normal in the sense that any little thing that reminded her of her husband’s death sent her in a rage at the U.S. Army, the Ranger team, and anyone else she felt responsible for his death, including the chaplain who came to break the horrible news. But mostly at Jesse and Ken.

  As a friend, Sam had tried many things to help Bev quit living in the past and that moment of initial sorrow, but she’d failed. Miserably. Reminding Bev she could have two things—like Sam—where she didn’t forget but instead moved on in the world.

  Sam had almost declined the job with HIS since she’d wanted Cody to have someone, for lack of a better term, sane in his life. Bev wasn’t insane like someone who needed to be committed or who would do harm to herself or her child. She just didn’t give Cody the love Sam would’ve.

  “What happened to you?” Bev asked. “You used to feel the same way that I did.”

  “I did in the beginning, Bev, but I opened my eyes, and I’ve realized I have a life to live. And, after all I’ve been through with my career, I’ve learned that when all hell breaks loose, sometimes the best-laid plans are useless.” As she looked back, it’d taken too long for her to come to this conclusion, but come to it she had. A rightness of that realization—and the bitterness she’d released against Lance’s team leaders—rested in her soul.

  Bev huffed in indignation. “You did nothing wrong on that op.”

  Realizing her friend had switched back to her SWAT days, Sam took a deep breath to remain calm. “A hostage died,” she seethed, knowing what op Bev meant, but at least she was off her revenge kick. The image of the woman in the jewelry store would never leave her. The woman on her knees, with her long, dark hair wrapped in the gunman’s hand. Her head had been pulled back a moment before Sam’s eyes had connected with hers. Though she doubted the hostage saw her since the woman’s eyes were wide and full of fear. Per procedure, once Sam had found the optimal location, she’d radioed in the situation from her perch on the rooftop across the street. It would have been an easy shot for her to take out the lone gunman, with his weapon pointed at the hostage’s head. She’d tried to impress upon the negotiator the urgency, but he’d shut her up. Some negotiators thought themselves God. Unfortunately, this negotiator failed and the next moment had instilled itself in her mind as the gunman fired his weapon and the hostage fell with a bullet in her head. The approval to fire came too late to save the woman. Sam’s light touch on her trigger brought down the murderer, but there’d been nothing she could do to bring back the woman’s life.

  “Didn’t you say you weren’t given the order to fire or free clearance to do so if you felt it necessary?”

  At times, Bev surprised the hell out of her and talked reasonably about the situation.

  Frustrated, Sam jumped up and all but stomped to the kitchen to pick up the sandwich she no longer wanted and dump i
t into the garbage. “The fact that I was cleared didn’t change that the woman died and I could’ve prevented it.”

  “Adam always told me that no matter how good the team was, sometimes people die because they couldn’t be everything to everyone.”

  If only Bev would listen to her own words.

  “I know. Lance used to say something similar. Jesse also explained that to me, although his preference is that everyone remains alive.”

  Her gut twisted at how damn confused she was. As an agent—of any law enforcement or military team—saying “shit happens,” which was what it basically boiled down to, was easy. For the survivors, not so much. With Sam being on both sides, it made every day a struggle, not knowing which emotion would rule the day.

  “Dammit, Sam, quit that job and move back here. You know the department will take you back.”

  And they were on that road again. She didn’t believe her friend would ever stop trying to get her to move back to Georgia. “Bev,” she said patiently, “I’m here now.” Near Ken once again. “Like I’ve said, I love it and like working with this team. The types of ops they run make a difference. Thankfully, there’s little to no red tape. Plus, there are women on the team, and the men seem to trust them and treat them as equals.” With the way the male-heavy team had treated her so far, she wasn’t plagued with the fear or insecurity that had haunted her once the men of SWAT began their campaign of sexual harassment. “Can’t you understand how this is the perfect fit for me?”