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Tex finally spoke, voice even, measured. “You know what makes us different, Quinn?” he asked. “When we fight, we fight for something bigger than ourselves. It’s not about money. It’s about the man next to you. About duty.” His blue eyes pinned her. “These guys? They fight for the highest bidder. You really trust them to put their lives on the line for yours?”
She hesitated. Not long. Just a second. A breath. Most people wouldn’t have noticed. Dagger did and it was enough for now.
But just as fast as it came, it was gone. Quinn’s jaw set, her arms uncrossing, and she squared her shoulders. “Yet,” she said coolly, “he’s been hired by the State Department.”
Flash scoffed. “Right, ’cause State’s never made a shit decision before.”
“Yeah?” Dagger pressed. “How many times has the government fucked up picking the right people?”
Quinn’s fingers twitched, her weight shifting ever so slightly, like she was about to step back, but caught herself.
There it was again. A crack in the wall.
But then she squared up again, shaking her head. Writing them off. Writing him off.
“Of course you’d be difficult about this, Dagger,” she said, exasperation creeping in, “but I didn’t think you’d be this arrogant.”
The energy shifted.
Brawler’s laugh was short. Sharp. Dangerous. “You don’t get to say that.”
Quinn’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
Easy sighed, running a hand down his face. “Geezus, Quinn. That’s unfair.”
“Unfair?” Her voice was sharp, but Dagger caught it, just the faintest shake in her hands.
Easy nodded, his usual lightness gone. “Dagger is one of the best men I’ve ever known. When the chips are down, when the lead is flying, he’s the one standing between us and whatever’s coming, a shield at our backs. Every. Single. Time.” His voice was quiet but firm. “So, you don’t get to judge him. Or us. Not after everything.”
Brawler wasn’t so soft about it. “All we’re trying to do is make you aware of the shitstorm you’re walking into. But go ahead. Act like we’re the problem.”
Quinn squared her shoulders. “This isn’t about?—”
“Bullshit,” Brawler snapped. “You’d rather eat shit before taking our advice.” His eyes narrowed. “You blame us. You blame him. For Brian.”
The words landed like a goddamn explosion.
Quinn actually rocked back a step. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Dagger took that one like a fist to the ribs.
Brawler wasn’t done. His voice was raw now, all the anger, all the loss from losing Brian came out. It was clear he was fed up with Quinn’s blame without a single word back. “You think we didn’t die that day, too? A piece of us went with him. For our brother? For Kade? It was way more than a piece.” His jaw flexed, the muscle jumping in his cheek. “I’m not going to swallow my words because you're his widow, and that means something. You’ve suffered. We all know that, but it’s not his fault. It’s not our fault. It’s fucking war. Dagger’s taken your shit for long enough.”
Dagger sucked in a slow breath. He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected them to fight for him. He’d spent so long carrying this, so long believing that he deserved every ounce of Quinn’s hate, that it had never occurred to him that his team didn’t see it that way.
Her chest rose and fell too fast. She was trying to hold it together, but he saw it, saw the way her fingers curled like she needed something to anchor herself. Blinking rapidly, her eyes filling, she swallowed hard.
Brawler exhaled sharply, voice lowering but no less brutal. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it. If it wasn’t for those kids?—”
“Brawler.” Tex’s voice sliced through the air.
Brawler clenched his jaw. His fists were tight at his sides, his shoulders rigid. But he didn’t say another word. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Dagger filled the gap. “You go ahead and trust them.” His voice was low, deadly. “Because I don’t. I’ve seen how these private military companies operate. When shit hits the fan? They don’t stay. They survive. At any cost.” He closed his eyes, working to keep his composure over this. “You have my cell number. If you need me…need us, we’re only a request away.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’ll be deployed and out of the picture.”
“We’re right back to that,” he bit out. “Me out of your life.” The hurt seeped in again, adding fuel to the fire, like acid in his veins, the mix pushing away all that wonder at her accomplishment.