Page 10 of Oathbreaker

I’m supposed to have a date tonight.

“Briar?” Atlas calls, worry creeping into his expression.

I slap a smile on my face. “If we miss our reservation, then I’m calling you and you can have dinner delivered for us.”

The doors close, but not before I see him shake his head, lips curving up.

I know he’ll do it.

Because he’s Atlas.

But I can’t sit in the blip of amusement at whatever meal my over-the-top, secret-romantic-at-heart big brother would cook up for West and me if I had to work late.

Because I’m too busy feeling guilty.

Because…West.

I’d forgotten all about West.

Four

Colt

Sleep comes easy, just not for long periods of time.

Nightmares are part of it. Discomfort is the rest.

Aside from the normal beatings, which were almost daily, there was a new guard toward the end and he hated me. Hated all Americans, really. Wanted me dead. And did his level best to make it happen without being too obvious.

My broken sternum and bruised kidney can attest to that.

When Igor finally got me out, he had to take me to a tiny hospital in Alaska until my superiors could bring me to D.C. for better care and debriefing.

I barely remember those first few days when I’m awake.

But in my dreams, it’s all pretty vivid.

Gunshots ringing out when we finally got through the gate.

The bitter cold.

And the pain.

So much goddamn pain.

The now familiar stitch in my side screams for mercy as I drag myself to the bathroom.

I take care of business and then wash up, resting my hands on the cabinet so I can rest before making that walk back into the main room. Then I look in the mirror. Big mistake.

Who the fuck is this ugly bastard staring back at me?

Hair too long, bruises all over my face, and a bump on my nose that will require surgery to fix, they broke it that many times.

Fuck.

I’m desperate for a shower but don’t think I can manage it now.

It’s a good thing, too, because I’ve just gotten back in bed when there’s a knock on the door and Briar steps in.