Page 52 of Rescued By the Alpha SEAL

He emerges from shadow like he never left it.

I knew it.

Thomas Granger.

Still wearing desert camo like the sand never quite washed out. His rifle stays level, practiced and precise.

"Long time no see, Bishop."

His voice slides over me like ice on rock.

No warmth.

No humanity.

Just the predatory gleam I remember from that last night in the sand.

"Doesn't feel like a reunion." I keep my weapon trained center mass, muscle memory taking over where emotion fails.

"I'd say it's business." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. Never has. "You haven't forgotten what I'm capable of, have you?"

"Some things never slip my mind." Like the sound of his rifle cycling. Like watching him walk away while we bled. "What you did—what you allowed—wasn't just a mistake. It was betrayal."

"Betrayal?" He laughs, sharp and hollow. "Such a heavy word. It weighs down your judgment like dead weight. I prefer to think of it as a necessary choice."

He takes a step closer, boots crunching in snow. "You and your precious team thought saving one civilian would make a difference. Now look where we are. It's all so... tragic."

"We were supposed to save lives." The words tear from my throat, rough with old rage. "You chose to follow orders while your brothers burned."

"I think you've miscalculated where loyalty lies." Another step. Smooth. Predatory. "I stayed in the fight while you walked away, clinging to your delusions of heroism. You thought you were noble—a savior. But saviors condition themselves to save, no matter the collateral damage."

My grip tightens on my weapon. "You think that's justification? We were meant to protect people, to serve a purpose that transcended orders?—"

"What?" he cuts in, voice like steel wrapped in silk. "You were led astray. That civilian you tried to save—it had implications you were too busy playing hero to see. If you could comprehend the bigger picture, you'd understand we're all just pieces on a board."

The disconnect hits me like physical pain. The complete lack of empathy. The realization that he sees us as pawns in a game he's been playing long before this moment.

"You think you're here to teach me a lesson?" I challenge through clenched teeth. "I won't let you manipulate me into your game. If you're here because of Sloane?—"

"I'm not here because of her." His expression flattens to nothing. "But her presence complicates matters. If you truly believe you can shield her from the consequences of your past, you're naive." A pause heavy with threat. "Do you really think you can keep her safe?"

Ice slides down my spine.

Not for me.

For her.

For my family.

For everyone I've tried to protect by building walls around my sins.

"What do you want, Granger?"

"Come with me to Crosspoint." His voice stays smooth even as menace bleeds through. "You need to see for yourself what's at stake. This isn't just about you anymore. I don't want collateral damage, but you must realize that knowledge is a dangerous weapon—for you and everyone around you."

Every instinct screams to refuse. To put him down before he can threaten anything else I care about. But this isn't over. This is barely beginning.

"I'm not your pawn," I say, keeping my voice steady. "You think you can manipulate me because you know my past?"