Page 10 of Stealthy Seduction (SEAL Team Blackout Charlie #5)

“He was killed right in front of me. Shot.” Her voice was steady, but he could see the horror in her eyes. “It wasn’t a mugging—it was professional. Clean. I didn’t use my phone after. Turned it off. I didn’t know if I could be tracked.”

The woman didn’t know the half of it. For now, that was good. For now, it had to be this way.

Con returned then, his expression grim. “Team’s back. We need to debrief, figure out our next move. Take Izzy to the kitchen. Alyssa and Sophie are there.”

Steele nodded, but his attention remained on Izzy. She looked fragile in a way that had nothing to do with physical strength and everything to do with someone who’d been pushed too far, too fast.

“I’ll make you some tea,” he said quietly. “Then we’ll figure this out.”

Her smile was small but genuine. “Thank you.”

Minutes later, the team had reconvened in the war room. Izzy sat at the counter, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug, while Alyssa hovered protectively nearby and Sophie cut her a slice of lemon cake.

Izzy looked steadier now, but Steele caught the way her eyes tracked every movement, every sound.

She was on high alert. Waiting for the next threat.

* * * * *

As the warmth of the tea seeped into Izzy’s system, a tremor rolled through her despite the kitchen’s cozy atmosphere. This space felt familiar. Safe. Filled with happier memories than her desperate trek through the darkness that reminded her far too much of Syria…of being left alone in the dark.

Alyssa sat across from her at the bar, concern etched in the furrow between her dark brows as she cradled her own mug. Sophie hovered nearby, sliding a plate of cake toward Izzy with the kind of gentle care that made her throat tighten with unexpected emotion.

“Thank you,” Izzy whispered, managing a soft smile as she reached for the fork.

It slipped from her trembling fingers, clattering against the plate with a sound that seemed to echo through the quiet kitchen.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry.” The words tumbled out in a rush as the carefully constructed walls she’d built around her composure finally cracked. “I messed everything up! I never should have come here. I didn’t even think—what if I was followed?”

She pressed her hands over her face, fighting the tears she’d managed to hold back through everything. Even when Drysdale’s body had hit the pavement. Even during her panicked flight through the city. But here, surrounded by warmth and safety and people who cared about her, the dam finally burst.

Alyssa was around the counter in an instant, wrapping strong arms around Izzy’s shoulders.

“I messed up this whole thing,” Izzy continued, her words tripping over each other in their desperation to escape.

“I should have been more careful, should have seen this coming somehow. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard on the story, shouldn’t have agreed to meet with him, shouldn’t have—” Her voice broke.

“I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve compromised everything—your home, your safety, Hudson’s team. ”

“Hey,” Alyssa said firmly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on Izzy’s back. “Stop right there.”

“But I—”

“What choice did you have?” Alyssa’s voice cut through her spiral of self-blame with gentle authority, the sound of her friend’s voice taking her back to Syria. Instead of the memory of that day making Izzy’s spiraling even worse, it soothed her.

Izzy looked up through her tears, meeting Alyssa’s steady gaze. The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Izzy couldn’t think of an answer.

“I could have gone home,” she said weakly. “Or found a hotel, or—”

“Gone home to your apartment where you’d be completely vulnerable?” Alyssa’s eyebrows rose. “Checked into a hotel where anyone with a credit card scanner could track you down in minutes?”

Sophie moved closer, her voice soft but certain. “She’s right, Izzy. Where else would you have been safe?”

“They found Kennedy.” Alyssa’s statement made Izzy’s skin prickle again. “They found her at a safehouse in the middle of nowhere that was supposed to be completely off the grid, and they got through Dante to reach her.”

She sucked in a breath. She hadn’t heard this story before. In fact, she didn’t know anyone’s story except her own, but it was clear that the women around her were strong as hell.

She could be strong too.

Alyssa’s dark gaze caught hers. “If Cipher can penetrate that kind of protection, what chance would you have had anywhere else?”

Cipher? The terrorist was completely unrelated to this event. Had nothing to do with her.

Guilt still gnawed at Izzy’s chest. “But bringing danger here—”

“You didn’t bring danger here,” Alyssa said with conviction. “I’m not entirely sure what happened to you tonight, but to me it’s clear that danger was already hunting you. At least here, you’re with people who know how to fight back.”

Izzy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to process the kindness being offered so freely. With the exception of Alyssa, these women hadn’t known her very long, yet they were treating her like family.

“You were right to come here,” Alyssa added softly. “This is where you belong when you’re in trouble.”

The words settled something restless in Izzy’s chest, but underneath the gratitude was a growing urgency. She needed to do something, anything, other than sit here feeling helpless while the people she cared about planned her course of action without her input.

“I need to talk to Hudson,” she said suddenly, the words escaping before she could think them through.

She was up and moving before either woman could react, her bar stool scraping against the floor as she headed for the door. Behind her, she heard Alyssa call her name, but her feet were already carrying her down the hallway toward the sound of voices emanating from the war room.

Her heart hammered against her ribs with each step, but her purpose was clear. Whatever they were discussing in there, she needed to be part of it. This was her story, her investigation that had led to a man’s death on the street.

She wouldn’t be shuffled off to hide in a corner while others dealt with the aftermath.

The corridor seemed longer than any others in the mansion, each step echoing. As she neared, male voices grew clearer, so she could make out words from the low rumble about resources and timeframes.

“—safehouse in Virginia,” Con’s voice projected through the partially open door. “Isolated location. Full surveillance capabilities. We can have her relocated by dawn if we move fast.”

The word “safehouse” hit Izzy like a physical blow, and every muscle in her body tensed in rejection. She wouldn’t be hidden away, wouldn’t be made to disappear while the people she cared about fought a battle that had started with her.

She didn’t hesitate. Her hand hit the door with enough force to send it banging against the wall, drawing every eye in the room to her sudden entrance.

“No.” Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “I’m not going to a safehouse.”

The war room fell into absolute silence. Ten pairs of eyes turned toward her. The pressure of their collective attention should have been intimidating, but Izzy found herself searching for one particular gaze.

Hudson sat at the far end of the table, his intense gray eyes already locked on hers. In that look, she found something that steadied her—not pity or concern, but belief that she had a right to be here, to have a voice in decisions about her own life.

Con’s expression remained carefully neutral, but she could see the calculation happening behind his eyes. “Ms. Cruz, this is for your protection—”

“There is no safehouse,” Izzy interrupted. She stepped farther into the room. Her gaze flickered to Hudson again, drawing strength from the slight nod he gave her. “Don’t you see? Alyssa says they found Kennedy, even in a safehouse!”

“We need to move you to a new location.” Con’s tone brooked no argument.

“This is the most secure location you have.” Izzy’s voice grew stronger, more certain with each word. “This is the safest house there is.” She met Hudson’s eyes again, seeing something there that made her pulse quicken. “ I feel safe here.”

Mason shifted in his seat, his expression skeptical. “But if you led them here—”

“I didn’t.” Her quiet confidence surprised even her. “I’ve developed skills that most people never have to use.”

Her hand moved unconsciously toward her throat, fingers brushing the crystal that hung there. The gesture was automatic now, something that grounded her when memories threatened to surface.

“Two days blindfolded in captivity teaches you things.”

Everyone silenced at her painful admission.

“Things about awareness, about listening, about knowing when you’re being watched or followed. I would have known if someone was tailing me tonight.”

Hudson leaned forward slightly, his intense gaze focused entirely on her. “You’re certain?”

The question carried weight. They couldn’t make life-or-death decisions based on incomplete information.

“I’m certain.” She met his stare without flinching.

“I took precautions. Multiple precautions. Changed routes, used a taxi for part of the distance, walked the rest through well-lit areas, backtracked. I checked every reflection in shop windows, every shadow, every sound behind me.” She paused, her throat working slightly.

“I’ve been doing it for three years. It’s second nature now. ”

“Dante, check all the cameras.”

He gave a nod and got to work.

Con’s expression was a mix of caution and something else—like he might just be impressed by what she said. “Even so, having you here puts the entire operation at risk. If a connection is made between you and this location—”

“Half the people on this base are targets. We aren’t moving them,” Hudson interrupted, rising from his chair with fluid grace.