But because Cooper didn’t deserve any of this.
Will propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands.
Cooper had been so damn afraid that the last year and a half had changed her. Hardened her. Ruined her.
And in some ways, it had. Of course it had. A life on the run wasn’t easy and the choices she’d made had scarred her in myriad, invisible ways. But she’d worn them well. And no matter what she thought, she hadn’t lost her decency. Her kindness or her compassion.
Not for Will, who she’d saved more times than he could count. And not for Cole, who she’d both forgiven and championed.
She wouldn’t be half as kind to herself. Or half as forgiving.
Cooper had told him how afraid she was of crossing that final line. Of going too far. Of losing herself to dark and desperate choices.
Of never finding her way back.
She’d view killing Cole as an unforgivable sin she could never wash clean and never learn to live with.
The point of no return.
If Will let her go now, Cooper would be lost. To rage. To remorse. To revenge. Because, oh yes, she’d want revenge. Cooper had been grievously wounded, and she wasn’t the sort to slink off and lick her wounds. She’d lash out. In hurt. In anger. In grief.
She’d want revenge and she was more than capable of exacting it.
In so many ways, Reeves and Davis deserved her wrath. Deserved death.
And in a way that maybe only Will could understand, Cooper deserved to pull the trigger. To end this, once and for all.
A part of him wanted to step back. To do for her as she’d done for him on that mountain.
Except, this time an innocent life hung in the balance. If Cooper killed Davis before he gave up Olivia’s location, she’d be lost. To captivity. To torment. Forgotten in some pit and left to die as if she’d never existed at all.
That choice was a selfish, if understandable, one. But it would mean Cooper would put revenge before all else. Sacrifice an innocent for her own, selfish goals.
And yeah, Will knew damn well she thought she’d already done that. But taking one life to save another was not the same as condemning an innocent woman for the sake of revenge, no matter how well deserved it might be. No matter how good it might feel.
And in time, Cooper would come to realize that. It might take days or weeks or months, but once that rush had worn off and the grief set in, she’d recognize that she’d crossed a line. That she’d become Pierce. Ruthless and vengeful and uncaring about costs or collateral damage.
And unlike Pierce, Cooper would wither, rather than harden.
The choice would destroy her—if Will let her make it.
He stood, shouldered his backpack and headed for the door.
Cooper might have broken her promise to meet him.
But Will had made promises of his own.
If it comes down to it, if you get too close, I’ll stand between you and that line.
It was a promise he intended to keep.
The sun was high in a blue, cloudless sky when Will stepped off the private plane and onto the tarmac of a small airfield an hour outside Washington DC.
Funny, that in all the times he’d imagined being home, he’d never given much thought to the arriving part of it. He’d thought of beers and ballgames, of soft sheets and hot showers. He’d thought of endless days at the lake, spent in a quiet solitude he’d wanted to share with Cooper. And he’d thought of greasy burgers and endless buffets. Bad Chinese and boxed brownies.
And once or twice, he’d thought about what his sister would say when she saw him for the first time. But other than that? No. He hadn’t given much thought to the reunion. To what it would be like to stare across pavement at people who knew him, loved him, missed him.
Nerves, unfamiliar and unwelcome, buzzed like ants beneath his skin.
He rolled his shoulders, adjusted the backpack he had slung over his shoulder, and forced himself forward.
There were four of them, and for that, he was grateful. Much as he wanted to see the whole team, there’d be time for that. The people who mattered most, they were here. All but one, anyway, and Will planned to fix that soon enough.
Georgia stood, her face neutral and her feet firm, Parker just behind her, his forearm draped across her chest. She leaned back, the movement subtle, and pressed her head to his shoulder but her gaze never left Will.
Next to them, Ethan waited, his fists shoved into his front pockets, his jaw set. A woman lingered next to him. When she went to back away, Ethan snagged the edge of her shirt and pulled her close to his side. She bit her lip and he dropped his head, whispering something against her ear then pressing a kiss to her temple.
Fucking hell, had everyone gone and fallen in love while he was away?
Figured.
Ten feet to go. The roar of the jet engines died, and blood pounded in his ears.
Parker moved his arm, whispered something in Georgia’s ear, then none too gently pushed her forward. She cut Parker a look that promised retribution, then straightened and stepped toward Will, her face pale and her eyes fierce.
Oh hell, she was pissed.
“Hey, Georgie,” he said, pulling a fond smile to his face as the wind caught her curly hair. “Miss me?”
“Miss you?” she spat, her voice clogged with rage and what he sure as fuck hoped weren’t tears. Because, Christ, he’d learned to deal with just about every emotion his sister carried, but tears? No. Just no. He didn’t have the field experience or the game plan.
“Miss you!” she screeched, clenching her fists at her sides.
Anger. Much better.
“Not gonna hit me, are you, Georgie?” he teased.
She opened her mouth to yell . . . and puked on his shoes instead.
“Oh Christ,” Parker muttered, jumping forward and guiding Georgia away as Will stared down at his boots, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
“I . . . what?” he asked, taking a few steps toward his sister, who was still heaving like she’d just completed her first post-deployment bender.
“Give us a second, huh?” Parker said, dismissing Will with a wave. “She’s fine.”
“She’s clearly not fine,” Will said, but stopped when Georgia shoved back her hair and shot him a look he hadn’t seen in years and really hadn’t missed.
Much.
“Take a walk,” she mumbled, then heaved again.
“Not the welcome home you were expecting, huh?” Ethan asked, his smile small but amused when Will glanced at him.
“I—no, not really.” He laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I kinda thought she’d hit me.”
Georgia threw him a middle finger over her shoulder and made a sound that had Will stepping back several paces.
“She okay?” he asked, turning to face Ethan.
“Yeah. Nothing time won’t cure.” Ethan cocked his head, and an awkward beat passed as he studied Will from head to toe then just cursed—creatively, in German—and pulled Will into a hug.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Ethan said, his voice tight with guilt. “We thought . . . I thought—”
“I know,” Will whispered, squeezing him back then letting go.
“You look . . .” Ethan held him by the shoulders and looked him over again.
“Pretty good for a dead guy?” Will asked.
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed with a chuckle, then sobered. “If we’d known . . .”
“You think I don’t know that?” Will snarled. Because no matter what doubts, what anger had plagued him in darkness and in pain, he did know. And it didn’t need to be said. “We’re good.”
“All right,” Ethan agreed, and just like that, as it always had, their friendship snapped into place. Easily. Seamlessly. As it always did when deployments and commitments and captivity took up temporary space between them.
“I want you to meet someone,” Ethan said, his tone telling a slow, cautio
us tale. “Keep an open mind, okay? She’s important to me and she’s nervous.”
“About meeting me?” Will asked, utterly confused.
“Hey—” Ethan started, but the woman with him stepped forward and said, “I’m Natalia.”
“Nice to meet you,” Will said, shaking her hand as Ethan blew out a frustrated breath.
“He’ll understand, honey.”
Honey? So it was pet-name serious? Jesus.
“William Bennett,” Ethan said, pulling the brunette closer to his side, “meet Natalia Vega.”
It took a second and Will was blaming that on jet lag, airplane food, and a barfing sister, but his mind snapped into gear.
“Vega?” he asked, turning to Ethan.
“It’s a long story,” he replied. “But Natalia is the reason we were able to locate you,” he explained. “Would have been the reason we brought you home, too, if you’d just stayed put a few more days.”
Will scoffed. “So sorry to check out early and ruin your plans.”
“Apology accepted,” Ethan said smoothly. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“I’m here now?” Will repeated, feeling more and more like he’d stubbled down the rabbit hole. This was so not how he’d pictured this reunion going. He’d figured on hugs and manly claps on the back. Some cursing, mostly from Georgia. And questions. So many questions.
Instead, his best friend was sleeping with the enemy and his sister was shacked up with Poindexter.
“My head hurts,” Will complained.
“You’ll live,” Georgia said softly.
Will turned, ready to try this all over again. She was pale, and her eyes were watery, but thank God she’d stopped puking.
“Here,” Parker said, pulling a cranberry juice box and a pack of Sour Patch Kids from his jacket pocket. He fleeced the wrapper from the straw, popped it into the top of the box, and passed it over, trading it for the bottle of water she held.
“You okay?” Will asked carefully.
“Are you?” she asked and to his abject horror, Georgia burst into tears.
“Oh geez, not that,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “You can’t cry, Georgie.” But when she didn’t stop, just hiccupped a sob, he looked helplessly up at Parker who was trying desperately not to laugh.
“Why is she crying?” Will asked.
“Maybe ’cause she owes me ten bucks?” Parker snickered. “Told her it would happen.”
“Why didn’t I get a part of that action?” Ethan asked, pulling Natalia closer and dropping an arm over her shoulders.
With a shove, Georgia pushed away from his chest and rounded on both Parker and Ethan, her hair flying and tears streaming down her cheeks.
“This is funny to you?” she snarled.
“A little,” Parker said at the same time Ethan said, “Nope.”
Natalia rolled her eyes. “She’s going to hurt you,” she informed Ethan. “I’m going to let her.”
“All right, all right.” Ethan held his hands up. “I’d offer you a tissue but—”
“Are you okay?” Will asked, reaching for her elbow then pulling her back around.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Why?”
“Why?” Will felt like he’d drunkenly stumbled onto a Tilt-A-Whirl and couldn’t find his feet. Couldn’t even find a steady point on the horizon. “Georgie, you’re crying.” He tried to wipe the tears that had not stopped falling down her cheeks, but she jerked away from him and rounded on Parker, who backed up a step, then held out the bag of candy.
“Tell him!” She snatched the pack from his hand and tore into it with her teeth.
With a sigh, Parker explained as if he’d done it a hundred times that day. “We don’t comment on the tears. Much like the stick up Ethan’s ass—”
“Hey!”
“We know they’re there, but we pretend ignorance.”
Georgia grunted something that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a “hell yeah you do.”
“Yes, okay, fine,” Will said, his head spinning with possibilities. “But why are you crying in the first place?” He’d love to believe she was just that damn relieved to see him. But Will knew his sister way too well for that.
Georgia just heaved a sigh, poured half the bag of candy into her mouth, and gestured to Parker.
“Why do I have to tell him? He won’t kill you,” Parker whined.
“Tell me what?” Will’s confusion was crumbling away beneath the weight of his suspicions. Surely not.
“It’s the hormones,” Parker offered.
“Hormones?” Will echoed.
“Because of the pregnancy. That wasn’t obvious?” Parker asked, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
Will snapped his head back to his sister. “H-how long was I fucking gone?”
Georgia shrugged and sucked on a mouth full of candy. “Long enough for me to get knocked up, not long enough to become an uncle.” She passed him the pack of Sour Patch Kids. “Brat likes sour stuff, by the way, just like his father.”
“I don’t understand,” Will said, staring down at the package she’d shoved into his hand, then fishing out a green one. “How did this happen?”
She turned and started walking away. “Glow-in-the-dark condoms from China are faulty—did you know?”
“Oh Jesus.”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” she called back over her shoulder at the same time Parker shouted, “His! It’s a boy?”
Will took a few stumbling steps forward and Ethan fell in beside him, a Vega under his arm and a smug grin on his mouth.
“I think I need to sit down.”
“You’ll get used to the idea. The rest of us have,” Ethan said, clapping him on the back. “Welcome home, Will. Shit’s about to get interesting.”
And then his bastard of a best friend laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I still don’t like this,” Georgia said, a hand smoothing down the front of her shirt. It was a gesture that looked oddly natural on her, though it drew Will’s eyes every single time.
His baby sister was pregnant.
Probably with an evil genius.
Crazy.
“What if she shoots you?” she asked as he tugged on his boots.
“She’s not going to shoot me, Georgia.” He stood, beyond grateful to finally be in shoes and clothes that were his. Thank God, Georgia hadn’t gotten rid of all his stuff.
“You’re awfully confident,” his sister continued as she followed him into the kitchen. “Have you met you? You can be a real pain in the ass, you know. It’d be tempting.”
“So what you’re saying is you missed me.” Will shot her a grin and stepped around Parker, who was turning over what was frankly an impressive-looking omelet on the stove.
“Yeah, a little,” Georgia snapped out, her tone fierce but her face sad. “I’d prefer it if your friend doesn’t put a bullet in your chest.”
Will reached for her, then tugged her close when she tried to plant her feet and avoid the hug. “Missed you, too, Georgie.” He kissed the top of her head just to hear her complain then let her go. “And I’ll wear Kevlar if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Won’t stop a high-velocity round and you know it,” she said mulishly.
“Or a headshot,” Parker helpfully added.
“Thanks for that.” Will pulled open a door, scanned the dozens of coffee pods he found there, and selected the one marked bold and dark. He pulled open the lid of the Keurig, but Parker intercepted him, taking the pod and tossing it into another drawer.
“She doesn’t like the way that one smells,” he offered by way of explanation.
Will sighed and selected another, then discarded it when Parker snorted and shook his head. Then another, and another. When he realized that Parker’s collection of coffee rivaled Will’s childhood baseball card collection, he gave up. “Just point to one that’s safe.”
“Here you g
o,” Parker plucked one out of the drawer and handed it over.
“Creme brûlée donut? Are you kidding?”
Georgia shrugged. “Kid doesn’t object to the sugary shit and I like keeping my breakfast down, so . . .”
“Good enough for me,” Will grumbled, shoving the pod into the coffee maker. “Mugs?”
“Cabinet on the left,” Parker said, and a split second later Georgia snorted and said, “He means the right.”
“Killjoy, he’d appreciate my eclectic taste in mugs,” Parker teased, plating the omelet and sliding it in front of Georgia, who took a seat on a barstool. “You want one?” he asked Will.
“Sure.” Coffee made, Will took the chair next to Georgia and snagged a slice of toast off her plate.
“Jerk.” She smiled at him and normalcy, like the hoodie he’d bought on base a zillion years ago, settled warm and comfortable around his shoulders. He’d missed this. Missed his sister and home-cooked meals. Snarky smiles and shared coffee. Over the past few days, Georgia had worked hard to make things feel normal. Easy.
But every time they shared a meal or a laugh or an insult, a part of Will focused on what was missing. Cooper, taking cheap shots at his eggs on toast. Taking his sister’s side. Taking his coffee and his focus and his edge. Because, God, did she keep him off-center and on his toes.
He missed her.
In the waking moments when she was sleep mussed and soft, before life and fear and stress caught up with her.
In the shower, when he had cleaned up the line she’d created along his cheek and jaw, her mark still there, but fading every day.
In the quiet, restful moments when Parker worked, and Georgia napped, and all Will wanted to do was look at Cooper one more time. Memorize her profile. Lean into her warmth. Trace his fingers against her skin.
And at night, when he tossed and turned on Parker’s monstrous modern sofa that was perfectly comfortable but still cold. He’d gotten used to having Cooper there. To waking from a nightmare with her hand on his heart and her face in his neck. And to waking up with her smile somewhere else, somewhere wicked and wonderful.
Fearless (Somerton Security Book 3) Page 28