Page 83 of Shadowed Sins: Nitro

"We can maintain—" Mira starts.

"No." Asher cuts her off with characteristic bluntness. "You can't. Evidence suggests escalation, not resolution."

Remy leans forward, medical concern shifting to something more personal. "You realize what this is? Both of you?"

"Dangerous," Mira answers.

"Inevitable," I say at the same time.

Cole stands with fluid grace, gathering his tablet and intelligence reports. "Twenty minutes until departure. Whatever this is, table it until after we handle Viktor."

They disperse to their stations, collecting equipment bags and weapons without wasted motion. But Remy lingers, studying me with those eyes that see too much.

"That bad?" he asks quietly, nodding toward where Mira disappeared down the hallway.

"Worse." I roll my shoulders, feeling every scratch pull against fabric. "One night and now I'm—"

"Addicted." Not a question. "Both of you. Classic dependency pattern. You were already suffering from it."

"Is there treatment?"

"Time and distance. Complete denial." He pauses. "Or complete surrender." He grabs his medical kit, slinging it over his shoulder. "Guess which never works."

"Time and distance?"

"Smart man." He pauses at the door. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing."

"Keeping the team safe?"

"Keeping the woman you love alive, even when she's too scared to let you love her."

After he leaves, I head to the equipment room adjacent to the kitchen, close enough to hear the distant hum of the industrial coffee machine still cycling. Maps cover every surface—not desperate scribblings of a man falling apart, but precise calculations of someone who just figured out how to turn professional protocols into personal warfare.

"Jesus, Jax." The voice comes from the doorway. Cole stands there, taking in the controlled chaos with those eyes that miss nothing. "Planning to coordinate an invasion?"

"Just ensuring optimal operational security." I don't look up from the route calculations, but satisfaction edges into my voice. "Complex venues require comprehensive contingencies."

He enters, studying the maps spread across every surface—extraction routes, medical stations, communication dead zones, all marked with obsessive detail.

"Since when do you plan like this?"

Since I realized that loving someone doesn't mean breaking down, it means getting strategic.

"Since we're dealing with Viktor's network." I mark another overwatch position. The movement pulls at the scratches on my back, a constant reminder. "These people have resources. Political connections."

He settles into the chair across from my command center, movements deliberate and measured. "Want to discuss what's really happening here?"

"Mission preparation—"

"This isn't mission prep." His voice stays calm but pointed. "This is something else entirely."

I finally look up, meeting his analytical gaze. "Such as?"

"Whatever happened between you and Mira, she's been moving like she needs medical attention, and you look like you went ten rounds with a wildcat."

I go back to marking emergency routes, but now there's satisfaction in every line I draw. "She established professional boundaries. Very clearly."

"Ah." Understanding dawns in his voice. "She's compartmentalizing."