Page 16 of Going Rogue (Tactical Operations & Protection (TOP))

Rogue

During their two-hour drive out of the desert, Rogue tried and failed not to think about what Crane had said.

How he felt.

About her.

Every time her thoughts wandered in that direction, her heart beat against the bars of the cage she’d locked it in. But she did her best to ignore it. She trusted him to get them out of this hellhole alive, but did she trust him with her heart?

Unsure of the answer, she shoved the question away. No good would come of entertaining his feelings. Only heartbreak. She’d rather keep hers locked up than have him shatter it to pieces.

Wouldn’t I?

A frown creased her forehead because a part of her seemed to disagree. Anger stirred in her blood, but it was directed at herself. She’d hurt him. The pain she’d inflicted had been evident in his eyes. Remembering twisted her insides. She hadn’t meant to; she’d only wanted to protect herself.

But at what cost?

Glancing at his stiff profile, regret crept in, and she hid a wince. He’d opened himself up to her and she’d slammed the door in his face. A sigh whispered past her lips as she turned away to stare out the windshield. But the barren landscape only blurred in her vision.

Rogue’s gaze remained inward, where something gnawed at her. A truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. Instead, she chose anger. Anger had the power to override regret.

Because how dare he spring his feelings on her when their main focus needed to be getting out of Iraq in one piece!

Scowling now, she crossed her arms over her chest, angling her body away from him to glare out the passenger-side window.

Why did I let him drive?

Driving would’ve at least kept her busy enough to stop from dwelling on . . . things . Like how she wanted him to kiss her again. To smile at her and tease her. Anything but the frosty silence she’d had since they’d driven away from the Bedouins.

“We’re five minutes out.” Crane’s voice lacked the warmth she’d become so familiar with. The words were only the second time he’d spoken since they’d started the trip. The first had been to tell her about the message he’d finally received from his contact.

The man had warned Crane that TOP had left and requested he meet him at a new safehouse.

Something about it had sent her gut spiraling, but she’d been too distracted by Crane’s feelings for her to pay it much heed.

Besides, it was probably nothing but her growing anxiety to get out of this country.

If his contact could help, they needed to meet with him.

“Copy.” Her one-word answer came out as cold as Crane’s statement had been. She didn’t even move to look at him. If this is how things would be between them now, she was more than ready to get home and part ways.

Liar.

Her scowl deepened as the inner voice she kept trying to ignore called her out. She never should have slept with him.

No. She should never have kissed him.

This is why she’d always avoided sex. Attachment was inevitable with intimacy. She knew that. Yet, she’d jettisoned all her reservations, anyway.

Stupid, Rogue.

Grumbling at herself, she sat up straighter and uncrossed her arms when the landscape changed.

The arid, rocky desert gave way to a town.

Streets started to branch off from the road they traveled.

Buildings of different sizes cropped up along those streets, but they had one thing in common.

They were all tan. Tan dirt on the ground, tan brick on the buildings .

. . just tan . She was really starting to hate the color.

Crane made a left turn, and a large warehouse loomed before them—also tan.

Though it did have a metal-shingled roof, which glinted under the puffy clouds moving across the hazy blue sky.

Beyond the warehouse, a chain-link fence stretched around a runway.

She knew they were close to Al Asad Airbase and wondered if this airport was a military or civilian one.

Hope that they could fly home sparked in her chest.

“Is this it?” The question proved moot as Crane pulled into an empty dirt lot behind the warehouse. She’d asked it more to break the silence than anything.

He put the truck in park and killed the engine. “Yeah.”

She thought it was all she’d get but then he finally looked at her.

“I don’t suppose you’d stay here if I asked you to?” A hint of his usual teasing danced in his eyes.

As much as she didn’t want it to, her damn heart responded to that look. But there was no way she’d stay in the truck. Raising an eyebrow, she tossed back, “Not a chance.”

His exaggerated sigh loosened some of the tension between them. “I figured.” He nodded toward the building and added, “At least, let me lead. Dafi doesn’t know you’re the package I went in to extract.”

She could agree to that since the man was Crane’s contact, not hers. “All right.”

He offered his Glock with a slight grin. “Try not to shoot me, squirrel.”

She palmed the gun with a smile, happy they were back on familiar footing. “No promises.”

But he continued to stare at her. His grin faded, and then a shadow settled over his expression. It made her gulp as worry surged up her throat. She still wasn’t ready to talk about what he’d told her. Even if she had his heart, she didn’t know what to do with it.

Crane started to reach for her but quickly dropped his hand, his expression clearing. Turning for the door, he cleared his throat and said, “Go time.”

Without another glance, he hopped out of the truck.

Rogue frowned after him. A part of her had wanted him to say or ask something more.

Despite the fact she’d told him to drop it for now.

Was it normal to feel this confused? Because if this was what came with relationships, she was glad she’d always avoided them.

She’d grown accustomed to seeing a clear path through everything, but the longer she searched for one with Crane, the more muddled her vision became.

Why does this have to be so hard? Why can’t I walk away?

Shaking her head against the questions she didn’t have an answer to, she checked the Glock and followed him to the warehouse.

◆◆◆

Crane

The warehouse was unlocked.

An open padlock hung from the right-side handle of the double metal doors. They’d once been painted tan but now sported rusted hinges and bald spots where the coating had chipped away to the matte metal underneath.

If this were a safehouse, those should be secured.

Dafi wouldn’t have been so careless. Finding the warehouse open felt like an invitation . . . or a trap.

Crane gripped his Ka-Bar tighter, pausing outside the entrance until he felt Rogue at his back. His whole body vibrated with tension, not just because something was off. Having her with him, worrying about her safety, clawed at him. He’d tried and failed to shove the fear into a box.

“It’s unlocked.” Positioned at his side now, Rogue spoke barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah.” His agreement came out in a harsh puff of air.

Whether Dafi or someone else waited for them inside, they had little choice but to enter.

The fact twisted in his gut until it became a snarl of knots.

As much as he wanted to get Rogue home, he couldn’t get them out without help.

And without any way to contact the team at Tactical Operations she looked like she wanted to pull away, but he held her steady. “Let me have your heart, Rogan. I’ll guard it as fiercely as you.” The words came out as a demand, not a plea, but her rum-colored eyes softened.

Because they did, he pushed, “If you give it to me, I promise to cherish it.” Leaning down, he breathed in her sweetly spicy scent before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

When she didn’t pull away or try to knee him in the balls, he added in a murmur, “And you can put all the energy you use protecting it toward something else . . . like loving me back.”

Her breathing hitched before she retreated a step. But he wouldn’t let her run away this time. Capturing her chin, he laid himself bare. “I love you, Rogue. If we don’t make it out of this—”

She made a strangled sound.

“—I need you to know that.”

A thundercloud of emotions flashed in her eyes before they filled with unshed tears, and she jerked her face away.

“We’re not dying here, Crane. We’ve come too far for this to be the end.

” With the fierceness of a lioness, she gripped the gun and nodded toward the warehouse. “Now, open the damned door.”

All business again. He wanted to push the issue, but it wasn’t the time. A grim sort of fog fell over him, and he shut down anything that didn’t relate to keeping them alive. Whatever he did or didn’t feel would have to wait.

Bracing his shoulder against the left-side door, he signaled Rogue to move behind him and slung open the right one. When nothing exploded or whistled past his head, he took a deep breath and swept inside with her on his heels.

The building was laid out like a large open bay .

An empty bay.

It smelled of stale air and old paper. Sunlight streamed in from windows near the ceiling.

Their beams permeated the gloom of abandonment apparent in the inches-deep layer of dirt coating the cement floor.

Nothing moved except the dust motes dancing in the rays of sunlight as they passed through the metal braces supporting the roof.

It was also deadly quiet. Until he took a step and the scratch of his boots in the dirt seemed to reverberate off the cinder block walls.

He paused and felt Rogue at his back. She’d moved with him but now they both stood stock still—waiting.

Too quiet.

It made his skin taut with unease. If Dafi had set him up . . . Crane didn’t like where the thought led. He moved further into the warehouse, keeping his ears piqued for any other sounds.

Skirting the streams of light, he led Rogue to the shadows on the left side of the building. As he gripped his knife tighter than necessary, he marched them through the length of the bay. Determined to root out anyone who might be hiding.

When they reached the corner of the room, Crane turned and checked behind them.

Still no movement and no noises other than his own harsh breathing.

Rogue seemed to have melted into the darkness at his back as silent as any skilled predator.

Speaking of, there weren’t even any animals here.

No telltale sounds of rats or other critters.

Where is Dafi?

Rogue tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see her signaling toward another pair of double doors.

This set looked almost rust-colored with two large industrial pull handles.

Again, no locks. They hadn’t traveled the full length of the building, so Crane knew those to be interior doors. But what exactly lay beyond them?

He felt like a mouse being funneled through a maze. No doubt, some manner of foul-smelling cheese waited at the end.

“I don’t like this,” he growled low and shook his head at Rogue.

“Me either.” She huffed impatiently. “But what choice do we have?”

Oh, they had a choice. They could leave. It might not get them home but at least it wouldn’t get them killed.

She clearly wasn’t on board with the idea because she pressed her shoulder into the left-side door and motioned for him to do the same with the right.

The flatbread they’d eaten this morning became a solid stone in his gut.

He didn’t think his body could be more on edge. Despite that, he did as she requested.

When their postures mirrored each other, both gripping the door with a free hand, Rogue gave a nod. Though every instinct Crane had warned against it, he pulled when she did. Unwilling to let her face this alone.

The doors creaked so loudly there was zero chance their presence hadn’t been noted. Because of that, he nearly yelled at Rogue to stay put, but the hand signal he sent her did the trick. They flattened themselves against the opened doors and waited. Whoever had lured him here could come to them.

Breathing hard against his rising panic, he kept his eyes trained on Rogue, praying she didn’t go through the doorway. She watched him just as closely, though her expression conveyed impatience.

But it didn’t take long for a voice to pierce the stillness.