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Tex lifted a brow. “Make it five.”
He turned and strode out as Bondo clapped his hands together. “You heard the man. Five miles, gentlemen.”
That should’ve been the end of it. But Brawler wasn’t letting Dagger off that easy. He stepped forward, towering over him. “You wanna sit there and take it? Fine. But you don’t get to pretend like you’re in this alone.”
Dagger’s eyes flicked up.
Brawler jabbed a finger at his chest.
“You keep pulling this lone-wolf bullshit like we don’t see it. Like we don’t know what’s going on inside that thick-ass skull of yours.” His voice dropped, low and rough. “You’re not the only one who lost Brian.”
Dagger flinched. Barely. But Brawler saw it. A crack in that steel.
The others stayed silent.
Brawler’s throat felt tight, but he swallowed past it. “You think we wouldn’t have your six? That we wouldn’t back you up? You think you gotta carry all that guilt by yourself?”
Dagger held his gaze, breathing slow. Controlled. That damn wall was still there, but the edges weren’t as sharp.
“Kade, you’re not alone,” Brawler muttered, voice like gravel. “So quit acting like you are.”
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then Dagger exhaled, slow and rough, like something inside him had shifted.
Brawler let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Five miles, huh?”
Dagger cracked the ghost of a grin. “Guess I deserved that too.”
Brawler huffed, shaking his head.This asshole.“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his sore knuckles. “You did.” Then he turned and headed for the door. They had five miles to run. After that? Brawler was still debating about round two.
Fifteen minutes later half the milage had been eaten up. But damn, the fucking heat, fucking foothills. What a bitch to run. He wasn’t the fastest guy and had often gotten dinged in BUD/S getting relegated to the goon squad.
Humidity clung to the morning air, thick and oppressive, wrapping around them like a second skin. The sky was a deep, burning blue, the kind that promised heat and trouble before noon even hit. The terrain was all loose dirt, jagged rocks, and patches of stubborn grass fighting to reclaim the path. In the distance, the sprawl of the city stretched toward the horizon, buildings stacked like uneven teeth, a mix of wealth and desperation barely separated by winding streets.
The team’s boots hit the ground in rhythm, a steady cadence of controlled breath, pounding heartbeats, and unspoken tension. Brawler wrestled with his anger, and his compassion, but the hurt won out. He wanted to be part of this team, indispensable. When Dagger cut them out, that made a statement. Slow, simmering deep, twisting inside his ribs and refusing to let go. Dagger took the damn punch like he expected it, like he wanted it, but that didn’t mean Brawler was ready to let it slide. Not yet. So when the moment came, he took it.
Dagger had just settled into his pace, strong, steady, that fucking unshakable presence like nothing had happened at all. Brawler stuck out a foot. Dagger’s next step hit nothing but air.
The tough guy went down hard, dust kicking up around him as he ate dirt on the rocky terrain.
Flash barked out a laugh, damn near choking on his breath.
Easy shook his head, already seeing where this was going. “Here we go.”
Twister stopped running and turned to look at Brawler with a groan. “Dammit, Brawler.”
Dagger wiped dirt off his face, spitting grit from his mouth. No warning. Dagger was all knives out. He shot out a leg and swept Brawler’s feet right out from under him.
Brawler hit the ground with a grunt, rolling onto his back just in time to see that same smirk aimed down at him.
Gloves off.
The team moved.
Flash didn’t even hesitate. He tackled Twister, taking them both down into the dirt in a tangle of limbs, no humor in sight. Twister had to take his lumps, too.
Bondo and Easy locked up like a pair of wrestling heavyweights, arms around each other’s heads, trying to gain the upper hand.