Page 49 of BounBound By Scars

My face might’ve looked composed, but inside, I was burning. Rage. Shame. Regret.

“Dyla—”

“This isn’t the last mission we’ll have,” he said, his voice calm in that terrifying way Dylan always managed. “We’ll be doing this for years. Maybe the rest of our lives. But Kabir’s hurting—and he’s distracted. He hasn’t cracked the White House Crazon. You haven’t configured your drones since Operation Tantalus. You’re both… off your game.”

I clenched my jaw. So this was it? A lecture? And not even a brotherly one?

“You don’t get to assess our performance,” I bit out. “I’m working on Chariot. And maybe that firewall is a fucking fortress. Did you consider that?”

My tone wasn’t raised, but it was cold—clinical. The voice I’d used back when I was still with the Bureau. Detached. Unshaken.

Dylan blinked slowly. His frown deepened.

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” I exhaled hard. “I’ve wanted that man for years, Dylan. He’s the reason I’ve stuck around this long. And now that I’ve ruined everything… all I’m getting from you is a fucking debrief.”

“Amel—”

“You said you forget I’m not just your sister?” I stood, looming over him even though he was still a solid wall of muscle. “You can only forget something if yourememberedit in the first place,Titan.”

He flinched. Just slightly. But I saw it.

“I didn’t come here for a performance review,” I continued. “I came here hoping you’d understand that I’m trying my fucking best.”

He stood too then, carefully placing his hands on my shoulders, like he was afraid I’d shatter under the weight of his touch.

“You’re hurting too,” he murmured.

I shoved him off, not violently—but enough to make my point. “Congratulations. You want a gold star for finally showing some empathy?”

He dragged a hand down his face. “I thought you were… playing games. Trying to figure out which guy you wanted. Ithought all of it—Kabir, Sebastian—it was just noise. Noise that’s been screwing up this mission more than it already has been.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

My eyes widened at his audacity. “Why would Iwillinglymess things up? Why would I jeopardize a mission that’s takenyearsof our lives?”

I took a step back, irritation flaring like an unchecked flame. Everything Kabir had said was still echoing in my head. I wanted to hit something—launch Chariot at that nameless bitch who’d hurt him. Maybe even land a well-placed punch on my brother’s jaw.

My hands tangled in my hair, gripping tight at the roots, trying to ground myself. Trying to find the words. Trying not to unravel.

“Sue me,” I whispered through gritted teeth, chest heaving. “Sue me,” I shouted this time, voice cracking, “for trying to carve out a sliver of life in between these missions. Every time I hit that blue button and engage the heat signature module, I’m praying I don’t lose one of you.”

Dylan stepped toward me, reaching again, trying to calm me. But I backed away.

“I’m trying, Dylan. I’m trying to do both. But I thought my life meant more to you than just another mission.”

“It does,” he said quietly. The tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“It doesn’t,” I snapped, the words slicing out of me. “Otherwise you would’ve—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, cupping my cheeks with both hands. His voice was hoarse. “You’re panicking.”

I shoved his hands off. “I don’t panic,” I hissed. “I don’thavethe time to panic.”

He exhaled slowly, pained. “Amelia… I’m sorry.”