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I scoot closer to him, wrapping my arm around his waist. “How was it different?”

“You were there, of course. But we were—” He stops. “Is this going to be triggering for you? Maybe I shouldn’t?—”

“It’s fine. I want to hear about it.” And even if itistriggering, listening to Erik is more important.

After a brief hesitation, he continues, “We were stuck. With traps all around us. One of them was a pit, like the one we saw. But this time… we fell into it. Me. You. Jeff. And I couldn’t get either of you out. I had to watch both of you… Fuck. It was horrible.”

A shudder runs through my body, though I try to hide it. “Jeff?”

Erik gives a short nod. “Jeff was in my battalion, back when I was a Green Beret. He was one of the guys who stepped in when Cole and the rest of the Sleepy Hollow team left the Army.” He pauses. “You should know about this, too. Four years ago, we were on an op in the Middle East. It was supposed to just be the six of us—me, Dante, Matt, Nolan, Tyler, and Enzo. But Jeff had gotten sick a few days earlier, food poisoning, if you can believe it. So he couldn’t head out with his split team. Instead, he joined up with ours. We were supposed to all meet up for exfil a couple days later. Head back to the States. Instead…”

My stomach squinches into a knot. “Instead?”

“We were doing recon in enemy territory. Usually, we worked more on the training side of things; working with foreign allies to get their skills and tactics up to speed. But sometimes we’d be sent out to track an enemy target. Or do recon and surveillance, like we were that day.”

His arm slides around me and he goes silent for a few seconds. “Basically, we ended up trapped in a building with explosives blocking us in. Me and Jeff, we were the HAZMAT experts. So it was on us to figure out if we could defuse the explosives. I didn’t think we could. Not the way they were set up. Not without taking time we didn’t have. I thought we shouldhead to the roof and try to escape that way, even though it would put us at risk of being spotted.”

I don’t want to interrupt his story, so I just nod for him to continue.

“Nolan—he was our captain—agreed. But Jeff insisted he could disarm one of the bombs. He was so confident about it. And he was good. Better than me. So we… we let him. But he was wrong. And the bomb went off.”

“Erik.”

In a monotone, he says, “It was bad. Tyler was trapped under rubble, and his leg was crushed so badly it had to be amputated. Dante, Matt, Nolan, Enzo… they were mostly okay except for cuts and a few minor broken bones. But Jeff… he was right there. Dante tried to help him, but it was just… There was too much damage. Jeff didn’t make it.”

In profile, his jaw works. His throat bobs. “I still dream about it. Hearing his moans. Remembering the explosion. The pain. And later, waking up in the hospital to find out he was gone.”

“What about you?” I ask softly. “What happened to you?”

Erik turns to me, pain etched into every feature. “I always wake up wishing I’d done something to stop him. Convinced him it was a bad idea. Or tried to disarm the bomb myself. Then he’d still be alive?—”

“No.”The word tears out of me. “No, Erik. No. If you’d tried—” Tears spring to my eyes. “I need you. Your team needs you. If you weren’t here…”

“Tate, no. Don’t cry.” He pulls me against him, kissing my forehead. “I’m here.”

Blinking away the tears, I tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “Will you tell me? What happened to you?”

His lips thin. That muscle in his jaw twitches. “I was thrown back and hit my head against the wall. I was awake at first. But I couldn’t make myself move. Couldn’t help my teammates. ThenI passed out. When I woke up over a day later, that’s when I found out I suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

I can’t stifle my horrified gasp. “Erik. God. Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he replies. “Mostly. The TBI makes me more susceptible to PTSD and flashbacks. Plus, loud sounds and bright lights bother me sometimes. Crowded areas can be overstimulating. But I’ve learned how to deal with it.”

“Your meditation. Yoga.”

“Yes. I was struggling, and my occupational therapist recommended it. So I thought I’d give it a try. Thankfully, it helped.”

Ice expands through my chest. “Your occupational therapist?”

“That was the other thing. The TBI caused some vision loss. At first, everything was blurry. But that got better. My peripheral vision, on the other hand… It’s not bad. I can do everything normally. It doesn’t impact my work for B and A. But it was enough to pull me from my GB team. That’s why I separated from the Army. I could have taken a desk job. But I just… I couldn’t.”

“Oh, Erik.” I climb into his lap, straddling him. Then I wrap my legs and arms around him like a monkey and hug him hard. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand strokes down my hair. “I’m luckier than most. Tyler has a prosthetic now. And I know plenty of other people who suffered injuries much worse than mine. I can still work. Make a difference. I’m still here.”

Tears prickle my eyes again. “And I’m so glad you are.”

“Tate…” A kiss brushes my forehead. “I am too.”