CHAPTER 1
RHIANNON
I wish things could go back to the way they used to be.
Not everything, of course.
In most ways, my life is so much better than it was just a couple of years ago.
I have a job I love, one that allows me to work with people who aren’t just friends, but family. And not just that—my job with the Blade and Arrow Security Bravo team gives me a sense of purpose, just like when I served in the Army.
Living on a renovated ranch just outside San Antonio along with the rest of my team instead of heading out on missions in the Middle East, I’ve finally found a place that feels like home. When we’re not working, we have barbeques and game nights and even celebrate holidays together, like our potluck Thanksgiving dinner and our Secret Santa exchange for Christmas.
As my teammates have coupled up, bringing their partners to the ranch to live with them, I’ve found the sisters I’ve always wanted. I became an aunt. And in August, I’m going to become a godmother.
When I look at it that way, there’s really nothing to complain about.
It’s just…
It was easier to try to ignore the gaping hole in my chest when the missing piece wasn’t in the same room with me.
When I wasn’t faced with what I lost, it was easier to shove down the sorrow. The aching regret. The guilt that’s eased over time but never completely gone away.
Since I separated from the Army almost four years ago, I’ve done everything I could to keep busy. First working as a paramedic in California, picking up overtime whenever I could. Then I came to Texas to help start up the new branch of Blade and Arrow Security, and there was always something to do—fixing up the rundown ranch, getting the company off the ground, and taking as many jobs as Dante, our team leader, would allow me to.
Add in my daily workouts, time spent helping my friends, and an almost unhealthy addiction to HGTV, I don’t often have time to obsess over the one person I miss desperately.
Does it hurt whenever he texts to check in?
Yes. Badly.
Whenever I see his name appear on my phone, there’s a foolish part of me that hopes this time will be the one when things go back to normal—when he calls instead of sending sporadic, stilted messages that don’t tell me much of anything. My wistful heart wishes that we could talk like we used to, joking and teasing and sharing things we never told anyone else.
But it never happens. Not four years ago, or two, or even the last time he texted a few weeks ago. It’s always the same how are you s and hope things are good s and tell everyone I said hi. And afterwards, I’m left feeling lonely and guilty all over again.
Back at home, at least there are things to distract me. Working out in the gym in our basement. Walking around the expansive property. Talking with my teammates. Hanging out with their partners. Or even calling my parents and reminding them once again that no, I’m not quitting my job and moving back to California.
Here, though, there’s no escaping it.
Trapped in the ballroom at the Four Seasons Hotel in Austin with my teammates and the man I once considered my best friend, the change in our relationship is thrown into stark clarity. The friendship we had is gone.
Well. I’m not trapped , exactly.
I could leave if I wanted to. It’s not like anyone would come running after me, tackling me to the ground halfway to the parking lot and demanding I stay.
But I wouldn’t, because I’m here on a job. And no matter how much it stings seeing Hawk again, I would never bail on my team.
During the actual job—overseeing security for a Fintech conference in Austin—we were occupied with running last-minute clearances and checking surveillance and making sure all the guards were stationed where they should be. There wasn’t time to think about Hawk and wonder for the fiftieth time why he never told me Dante had asked him to help out.
I only found out a few days ago during our weekly team meeting, when Dante announced that he’d asked Hawk to assist with security. “Since Matt and Niall are taking paternity leave this month,” Dante explained, “I was thinking it would be good to have an extra person to help.”
“Is one of the New York Blade and Arrow guys coming out?” Xavier asked. While the original Blade and Arrow team is usually booked up, thus the reason why the Bravo team was formed, it wasn’t an unreasonable question. Despite the thousands of miles distance between our teams, we’re always ready to jump in to help if needed.
“Not quite,” Dante replied with a smile. “But I think you’ll be pretty pleased to hear who I got to come join us.” He paused before letting his gaze move to Xavier, Niall, and me. “Hawk’s off the fishing boat in Alaska for a few weeks, just taking some time to travel, so I asked if he’d be interested.”
In the surprised silence that followed, he continued, “I know he’s not a part of Blade and Arrow, but I have full confidence in Hawk’s abilities. We could do the job with four, but I think it’ll be easier with five.” His eyebrows went up. “Unless anyone doesn’t want him coming? I just assumed, but if there’s a problem?—”
“Of course not,” Xavier interjected. “That’s great news. I’m just surprised you could pin him down. But it’ll be really good to see him again.”
“Definitely,” Niall added. Then he cast a quick side glance at me. “It’s been years since I actually saw Hawk, instead of just getting his texts.”
“Definitely,” I echoed, trying to force a smile. “I can’t wait to see him.”
Did my voice sound a little flat when I said it? Was my smile a little strained?
Judging from the side-eye Xavier gave me immediately after, possibly.
But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to see Hawk.
The exact opposite, actually.
I’m reminded of it every time I catch a glimpse of him across the room, his intricate tattoos hidden by his suit and his typically unruly hair tamed.
I’m reminded of how much I do want to see Hawk each time I notice another woman hungrily eyeing him, their gazes lingering on the muscles straining at the shoulders and sleeves of his jacket and his impressive height. At six-four, he’s usually one of the tallest people wherever he goes, and today is no exception.
It’s not that we’ve ever had a romantic relationship. As teammates on the same Green Beret team, that would have been an impossibility. Along with Xavier and Niall, Hawk and I were a part of the ODA5131, or A-Team, spending much of our time on dangerous missions throughout the Middle East. Our team was close, family without being blood, and I trusted all of them with my life.
Friendship, brotherhood—or sisterhood, in my case—was one thing. But romance? No way. Not on our team. And definitely not as one of the first female Green Berets. Not when I already had so much to prove to everybody.
So I ignored the attraction I felt for Hawk, reminding myself over and over that we could only be friends. And we were. Best friends, even.
Until everything fell apart, thanks to me.
And now I’m stuck over in the A zone of the ballroom gritting my teeth as I watch a very attractive woman flirting with Hawk over by the terrace. He’s not responding aside from a polite smile in her direction, but still. I don’t like it.
Yes, I know he’s been with women in the years since he left the Army, just a few months after I did. Or at least, I’m assuming he has. I mean, he’s a very handsome guy, with striking green-gold eyes and angular features just a hint too strong to be pretty. Just because I’ve been celibate for more years than I want to admit doesn’t mean he has.
It doesn’t mean I want to think about it, though.
“Hey, Rhi.” Xavier sidles up next to me, his voice pitched low so the surrounding guests can’t hear him. “Everything good?”
“Of course.” I flash a bright smile at him. “I don’t want to jinx things, but I think everything has gone really well. No security breaches, no drunk guests trying to stab each other with steak knives…”
Xavier laughs, and the shadow of concern in his eyes fades. “Those guys will never stop talking about that. And every time I hear the story, the knife seems to get longer and sharper.”
It’s become a notorious story in the Blade and Arrow world, how Nora, the lone female member of the original team, took down a guest at one of their events after he got drunk and went after the big award recipient for the night. Her husband Jackson loves to trot out the tale whenever we’re all together, bragging about how badass his wife is.
Which is really sweet, when I think about it. During the few times I’ve risked my sanity for a date, as soon as I told the guys what I do—former Special Forces, part of an elite security team, trained in three kinds of martial arts and able to hit a moving target at five-hundred yards—their interest waned.
Not that I really cared all that much. The dates were more out of a feeling of obligation than actual desire to meet someone. I’d see my friends going out or having sweet evenings together at home and think, maybe I should give it a try. Maybe there’s someone out there for me.
Or maybe not. Maybe the person I’ve always wanted is out of reach, and I just need to be happy with what I have instead of pining for something that’ll never happen.
And speaking of said person, just as I glance over towards the terrace again, Hawk turns in my direction and catches my gaze.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. A hint of a smile touches his lips. Then a blink later, his expression sobers, and he abruptly turns away again.
Ouch.
A shaft of pain spears my chest.
I know he blames me for what happened four years ago, but knowing and seeing are two different things.
I guess I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d moved past it.
Apparently not. Because apparently he can’t manage to look at me for more than a few seconds.
My heart squeezes, twisting painfully. And with it, the same questions I’ve asked myself countless times over the last few days come slinking back again.
Why didn’t he tell me he was coming to Texas?
Why didn’t he tell me Dante had asked him to come?
Why did I see Hawk at the same time as everyone else, just hours before we arrived at the hotel this morning? Why didn’t he come to see me first?
We could have talked. Caught up. I could have shown him my apartment at the Blade and Arrow ranch. He would have laughed at the ridiculous number of throw pillows I have, teasing that he still didn’t think I had enough of them. I could have asked to see all the photos he took in Alaska and gently lectured him about being safe on the fishing boat he’s been working on for the last year.
It would have been like we were real friends again.
Instead, it feels like there are miles between us rather than a few hundred feet.
“You sure you’re okay?” Xavier touches my arm, drawing my attention back to him again.
Shit. What am I doing? Allowing myself to get distracted when I’m supposed to be focused on the job? That’s not who I am. I’m supposed to be the unflappable one. The reliable one. The one who never wavers from her focus, no matter what else is going on.
“I’m fine,” I reply a touch too cheerfully. “Just taking a quick visual is all.”
Xavier’s forehead wrinkles. “Okay. But you know, if you ever?—”
But he’s interrupted by Dante’s voice coming through our comms. “Looks like we’re getting close to wrapping things up,” Dante reports. “We’ll need to do a final sweep of the hotel and check in with the on-site security team. But I’d say we should be done in another hour or so.”
“Sounds good,” Erik replies, his voice low and rumbly as it comes through my earpiece. “Where would you like me to go?”
Like everyone on the Bravo team, Erik’s also a former Green Beret, and while we were part of different companies—Niall, Xavier, and I were part of the Charlie company, and he and Dante and Matt were Bravo—we all were stationed at Fort Campbell and spent years training together.
“I was thinking you and Hawk could take the first floor,” Dante tells him. “Rhi and Xav, can you do a perimeter check? And I’ll meet with the hotel’s security team. We can recon back here in thirty. Does that work for everyone?”
“Roger that,” Erik answers. “I’m on it.”
Hawk’s deep voice echoes, “On it.”
“Sounds good,” Xavier and I reply in unison.
With a quick chin lift to each other, Xavier and I head towards the exit. Xavier says, “I can take the west side and you take east. Does that work for you?”
“Absolutely.” As we push through the glass doors leading outside, I breathe a mental sigh of relief. Now I have something to do that isn’t sneaking glances at Hawk and wondering and wishing. An actual task that will take me away from the claustrophobic ballroom. Just what I need.
But forty-five minutes later, when we’ve all reconvened in the now-empty ballroom, the tension settles back into my shoulders again.
Clustered in a loose semi-circle around Dante, now I’m close enough to Hawk to catch a hint of the same soap he’s always used, a musky blend of amber and pine and citrus. And I’m close enough—standing not six feet away—to notice a new scar intersecting his right eyebrow. The overhead lights pick up bits of bronze in his dark hair, a result of the hiking trips I know he still takes whenever he can find the time.
More questions come zipping at me, ones I wish I could ask but won’t.
How did he get that scar? Was it on the boat? Does he have any other new scars I can’t see?
Did he forget about all the times we talked about hiking the Appalachian Trail together?
Did he find a new hiking companion? Maybe a woman less complicated and with less baggage than me?
Once again, his eyes meet mine, this time darkening in response to something he sees in my expression. Tiny lines form between his brows as confusion flickers momentarily across his gaze.
What is he seeing?
Before everything fell apart, Hawk could read me better than anyone. But I’ve had a lot of practice since then at hiding my feelings. At putting on the mask I’ve spent years perfecting.
“I just spoke with the event coordinator,” Dante says, “and he was really pleased with our services. He said he’s going to recommend us to some of his contacts, so that could result in more events like this in the future.”
“Nice,” Xavier replies with a lift of his chin. His voice dips conspiratorially. “Considering the pay for a one-day job, only a couple of these will cover our pro-bono cases for the rest of the year.”
Dante gives Xavier a quick nod. “That’s what I’m thinking. And considering how many applications we’re getting, anything that allows us to accept more is a good thing.”
Erik and I bob our heads in silent agreement. While we spend plenty of time working paid gigs—events with high-value guests in attendance or providing private security assistance to CEOs and millionaires around the country—our real mission is providing pro-bono help to people who truly need it.
That’s why Blade and Arrow was originally formed. Dante’s old teammate, Cole, was working as a cop here in San Antonio during the first year after he left the Army. After a domestic violence case ended tragically due to a lack of evidence, he decided something else needed to be done to help the people most in need of protection.
That’s where we step in—when people are in trouble but don’t have the money to pay for private security and due to lack of evidence, the police can’t or won’t get involved. We work the paid jobs to cover salaries and company expenses, and everything that’s left over goes towards our pro-bono cases.
In the nearly two years our branch has been open, we’ve investigated identity theft, trafficking organizations, and dark web conspiracies, just to name a few. And that’s where I draw the greatest satisfaction, knowing that even though I’m not fighting for my country anymore, I’m still making a difference.
“So I think we’re good to head out,” Dante continues. He glances at Hawk. “Thanks for jumping in to help. We really appreciate it.”
Hawk smiles. “It was no problem. After hearing about Blade and Arrow so much, it was nice to see you guys in action.”
“This is nothing,” Xavier interjects. “You should be on one of our pro-bono cases. That’s when things can really get intense.” Pausing, his gaze goes distant for a second, and I just know he’s thinking about the rescue attempt we staged to get his wife, Lucy, back after she was abducted.
Not that she was a case, exactly. When Lucy was kidnapped, she and Xavier had been dating for months, and there was never any question of taking on her case. But we would never have accepted money to protect her, whether or not Lucy could afford it.
“So your pro-bono cases are more dangerous?” Hawk asks. His smile fades as his gaze sweeps around our small group before lingering on me for a moment. “I thought this was a pretty safe gig you had going on here.”
“Most of the time it is,” Dante answers. “But some risk is unavoidable.”
An unhappy expression moves across Hawk’s face, so quickly I’m not sure anyone else noticed it. Then his smile is back again, just slightly tighter than before.
Xavier turns to Hawk. “Are you coming back to B and A tonight? It shouldn’t be too late by the time we get back. We could go out to the barn, grill some burgers, play some cornhole…” He looks at his old teammate hopefully. “It would be like old times. And I know Lucy would love to meet you.”
“Absolutely,” Dante adds. “The client apartment is available, so you could stay there.”
Hawk frowns. “I wouldn’t want to take up space that could be used for your clients.”
“We wouldn’t be using it tonight.” As Hawk’s attention shifts to me, I explain, “We don’t have an active pro-bono case right now. So it’s just going to sit empty.” A beat later, I find myself adding, “Or if you don’t want to stay there, I have a spare room. It’s all set up. So you’re welcome…”
But he’s already shaking his head. “I should really get on the road tonight.” His gaze skitters away. “I told Rafe I’d be in Corpus Christi to help him with a job tomorrow.”
His rejection feels like a boot slamming into my chest, driving all the air from it.
Unexpectedly, tears prickle behind my eyes.
Back in the old days, when we both lived in the same apartment complex just off base, Hawk thought nothing of crashing on my couch if we stayed up late watching one of his silly action movies, the ones where cars drive off bridges or fly out of planes and inexplicably end up in one piece.
“You sure?” Xavier asks.
“Yeah.” Hawk flashes him an apologetic look. “Maybe I can swing by afterwards. If I have time.”
The already claustrophobic ballroom feels like it’s shrinking by the second.
“You’re always welcome, you know.” Dante gives Hawk a chin lift. “You ever need a place to land for a few days, a few weeks, whatever.”
“Want to grab a quick drink at the hotel bar?” Xavier glances at his watch. “Lucy’s not expecting me home for a few more hours. And I know she won’t mind if I’m a little late.”
I can’t listen to Hawk making excuses for not visiting. Not again.
So before he can respond, I quickly announce, “You know, I think I’m going to head out. But you guys should stay.”
Dante looks at me, his brows raised in concern. “You okay, Rhi?”
The walls squeeze even closer. “Yeah. I just have a bit of a headache. It’s nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Stepping back from our little group, I add, “I drove myself, so it’s no problem if you all stay for a drink. I’ll just”—another step backwards—“get going. But you should hang out. Really.”
“Rhi,” Xavier starts. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yup,” I reply brightly. “Totally fine.”
Liar.
Hawk regards me with an inscrutable expression, giving nothing away. “If you’re not feeling well, maybe you shouldn’t drive back to San Antonio by yourself.”
His concern is almost my undoing. I almost blurt out all the things I’ve wanted so badly to say but never quite worked up the courage. Please forgive me. What can I do to fix things? Can we be friends again like we used to be?
But it’s not the time or place. So instead, I just say, “I’m fine. Just a headache.” I pause. Paste on a smile. “It was really good seeing you, Hawk. Like Xavier said, we’d love to see you at the ranch any time.”
Great. Now my throat feels thick. My nose burns with the threat of impending tears.
I can’t cry now. I haven’t shed a tear since that night four years ago, and this is the absolute worst place for it to happen again.
So I make the world’s fastest exit, throwing fake smiles at everyone and swearing to call if there’s a problem. As if I’m not capable of making the hour and a half drive from Austin to our ranch thirty miles northeast of San Antonio by myself.
But I get it. That’s part of being a team. Looking out for each other. Worrying. Caring. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Just maybe not tonight, when I’m desperate for some private time to pull myself together again.
As I head out to the parking garage, my pace quickens. I try to force my thoughts to more pleasant things, or at least things that don’t make me feel like bursting into tears.
Tears weren’t an option during my years in the Army, and over a decade later, I’m conditioned not to cry. At least not in public. But back home in the shower, with the hot water diluting the salty dampness on my face? That’s something different completely.
In the garage, my footsteps echo on the concrete, and the LED lights create odd shapes out of shadows. There’s no evidence of anyone else in here, no rumbling of engines or the flash of headlights coming on. And honestly, I like it better this way.
I stride towards my little SUV in the back row of the garage, my key fob already in hand. The tiny canister of pepper spray attached to it bounces against my palm, primed and ready to use. Not that I’m concerned about being attacked in here, but after emphasizing the importance of always being prepared to our clients, it feels kind of hypocritical not to follow my own advice.
As I get closer, I hit the button to unlock, and the taillights of my SUV blink several times. The band around my chest releases a little.
Once I get home, I’ll take a steaming hot shower, then snuggle on the couch with a glass of wine while I watch the newest episode of House Hunters . And hopefully by the end of it, my mind will be clear enough to fall asleep instead of lying awake for hours wondering if there was some way I could have done things differently.
Just as I’m about to open the car door, a voice calls softly across the garage, “Rhiannon. Wait.”
Hawk.
The sound of brisk footsteps follows. Not running, but not walking, either.
What does he want? To make me feel even worse?
Not intentionally. Hawk isn’t like that. No matter how upset he might be, he’d never be cruel. But his words could cut deeply, anyway.
I raise my voice as I call out, “I’m fine. Really.”
“Still.” Now I see him across the garage, a tall figure in dark clothes, his shadow stretching out behind him. “Just wait a second. Okay?”
Part of me wants to take whatever he’s offering, even if it’s just a few minutes of conversation before he leaves. But I’m feeling too raw right now. Too close to tears. And the last thing I want is for Hawk to know I’m upset.
“I’m just going to go,” I reply, pitching my voice loud enough for him to hear me. “You should go grab that drink with the guys. I’ll text you soon.”
And before he can reply, I reach the side of my SUV and reach for the door handle.
Is it cowardly to rush away like this? Yes.
But seeing Hawk was so much harder than I’d thought it would be. And I’m tired of putting on a good face. Of pretending the loss of my best friend doesn’t hurt.
“Rhi…” He sounds frustrated. Unhappy.
I’m just about to open the door when something catches my eye.
Something I don’t remember seeing when I arrived here this morning.
Along the bottom of the door, there are a few smudges in the thin film of dirt and dust coating it.
But not marks like someone’s leg brushed against it. Smaller ones.
Ones that look like fingers made them.
If the weather wasn’t so dry, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. But with the artificial light hitting the smooth surface, the smudges stand out.
Hawk calls to me again, but the words don’t register. My brain is still stuck on those mysterious marks.
Why are they there?
Could there be a rational explanation for them?
But then why is my gut shouting at me that something’s wrong?
Why would someone have touched the bottom of my car door? Did they drop something, maybe it rolled underneath, and they were crouched down trying to reach it?
Despite logic telling me it’s fine, that I’m creating problems where they don’t exist, instinct demands I investigate further.
So I kneel beside the SUV and peer closer.
At first, there’s nothing. Just those suspicious—or not suspicious—marks.
A moment later, I see it.
A small box attached to the undercarriage.
A box that shouldn’t be there.
My heart stops. A beat later, it staggers back to life again.
And before I can fully examine my findings, I’m back up and running.
Sprinting.
Something is very wrong.
And I’m in danger.
I hear a puzzled, “Rhi?”
And then.
It all happens in the blink of an eye.
An eruption of flames.
A deafening sound.
Pieces of metal fly past me, their edges on fire.
Something slams into my back, bringing a searing slash of pain.
I’m lifted into the air.
For several seconds, I’m weightless.
A frantic thought bursts to life.
I never fixed things with Hawk. I never told him how I felt.
Then gravity starts working again, and I’m dropped back to the ground.
All the air is knocked out of me. My head raps against the concrete and everything dims for a moment. A rush of coppery blood fills my mouth.
I can’t see. It’s just a blur of white.
But I’m not dead. At least, I don’t think so.
As I lie stunned on the ground, my limbs not responding to my brain’s scrambled commands, my vision starts to clear.
At first, all I can see is the ceiling of the parking garage, the orange glow of flames reflecting off the metal cross beams.
A beat later, Hawk crashes to his knees beside me.
Fear twists his features. His eyes are wild. With a shaking hand, he touches my cheek.
His mouth moves, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the ringing in my ears.
I concentrate on the movement of his lips, and it looks like he’s asking if I’m okay. How badly I’m hurt. Instructing me not to move.
I’ve never seen him look this panicked before.
“It’s okay,” I try to reply, but I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs to speak.
From behind him, my teammates converge, matching expressions of fear and worry on their faces.
Hawk strokes my cheek, his touch achingly tender even as his fingers are trembling.
“Breathe,” I hear him say as if he’s talking through thick panes of glass. “Just breathe, Rhi. Breathe .”
I manage to touch his arm, clasping my hand around his wrist.
And I finally suck in a gasping breath.
“Please, Rhi.” This time I can hear him more clearly. Desperation tinges his voice. “ Please . Please be okay.”