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And she does. Unreservedly. Even though I know damn well it hurts her to do it.

Tate meticulously recalls every memory from the minute she looked out at the darkened windows of my cabin to the moment Cole’s boat arrived at the island. She doesn’t shy away from the worst of it—the man who tackled her in the cabin and knocked her out, the confusion when she first woke up, not knowing where she was, the sightless eyes of the dead man as he stared upat the sky, and the sheer terror she felt while she waited for me to short out the electric fence, not sure if I’d walk away unscathed.

She cries as she tells us, but they’re silent tears. Which makes it almost worse to watch.

Halfway through, I give up on trying to keep my distance, and reach beneath the table to take one of her trembling hands in mine.

It’s comfort, I tell myself.I’d do the same for Jade or Lucy or Sarah or Isla. I’d do it for any of my teammates.

But it doesn’t feel like simple comfort. It feels… necessary.

And I think—though I could be deluding myself—that Tate’s glad I did it. Or at least, the grateful look she throws at me makes it seem like she is.

When we finally get to the end of the first round of questions, I’m the first to suggest a break. Partly to give poor Tatum a break, and selfishly, to give myself a reprieve from watching her struggle to rein in her tears.

But she’s not having it. “I want to finish this,” she insists. “If I put it off, it’ll only be harder tomorrow. Besides. I don’t know that many people. So this part should go pretty quick.”

“We have to go back years,” I warn her. “High school, middle school, even. Talk about people who might even have held a grudge against one of your parents. It’ll take longer than you think.”

Tatum shakes her head. “My parents were both teachers. Everyone liked them. Even their problem students. No one could hold a grudge against them. It’s impossible.”

“That’s probably true,” Niall says. “Most likely, if itissomeone you know, it’s someone with a personal connection to you.”

“It’s probably not,” I jump in to add. Though I know I shouldn’t say it, I can’t help myself. Though she hasn’t said it straight out, I know Tate’s worrying that she’s somehowresponsible for this mess. That she was the target and everyone else was pulled in by unfortunate convenience.

“What do you mean?” she asks. Her brows arch in question as she looks back over at me.

“Let’s face it. I work for an internationally-known security company. And while we do a lot of good, there are people out there who aren’t happy about it. The criminals we help put in jail, or their family members. Not to mention, we were all in the military. So any of us could have a target on our back from that.”

From the projection screen, Cruz nods. “Erik’s right. If this were my case, Blade and Arrow would be my first guess as the target. Given their history of stopping violent criminals… I’m not saying it can’t have something to do with you, Tatum. But it’s a lot less likely.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, low enough so only Tate can hear me. “So damn sorry I dragged you into this.”

Slender fingers grip mine with a surprising strength. Tate turns to look at me, her expression going fierce. “You guys do great things here. From what I understand, you save lives. And you protected our country. You shouldneverapologize for that.”

My heart stalls. Flips over. Swoops from my chest to my feet and back again.

Matt pauses from his typing to add, “From what I’ve found so far, it’s looking like this island thing has a connection to the dark web. Which is something B and A has a decent amount of experience with. Unfortunately.”

I’ve been so busy with Tatum, this is the first I’m hearing of a definitive link to the dark web. “Have you found proof?” I ask. “Did you trace any of the camera feeds?—”

“No luck so far with the cameras.” Matt scowls. “All the feeds were shut down immediately. And nothing to identify where they came from. But.”

As he pauses, I hold my breath.

“I found some mentions of a game on the dark web,” he continues. “Nothing substantive yet. Just some vague references to a game that involves traps. And something about paying to participate. I’m working on tracing the sources, but if they’re not directly involved… I’ll find something, though. Whoever’s behind this covered their tracks well, but they can’t cover everything.”

Shit.

The fucking dark web.

Not just a place for some of the worst of society to gather, plotting unthinkable criminal activity, but a place we know all too well.

If this is all a game on the dark web…

What are the odds of it happening again? And not justhappening, but us getting dragged into it?

Chest constricting, I say, “But the guy who took Lucy is dead. Everyone behind his fucked up game is in prison.”