Backblast by Candace Irving (miss read books TXT) 📕

Gil's end, he laughed. Then again, it was 0800 back at Campbell. Gil was heavily and contentedly caffeinated by now. Unlike her. The first name on Palisade's list had arrived before she'd had a chance to locate the closest coffee pot. The caffeine-driven throb from this morning had returned.

"From what I hear, not you."

Whoa. What exactly had Gil heard? And from whom?

The possibilities sliced in. And all wielded the same double-edged sword: her hand. "I beg your pardon?"

"Garrison called."

Shit.

Stick to the case. And pray. "Did you give him the official assessment on Brandt? It's the chimera, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. And I told him. But that's not the only reason he phoned."

She wasn't sure what piqued her more. That John had spoken about her with Gil. Or that he hadn't bothered to let her know he'd planned on ratting her out.

Except her ire was already cooling, and rapidly…because she also realized what it would've cost John to reach out to Gil. To a man who less than three weeks earlier, John had believed she was not only involved with, but pregnant by. It didn't matter that he now knew differently. When John cared, he leaned toward jealousy—sharply. She'd known that from almost the moment they'd met. She'd even abused the knowledge out in that bar's parking lot to reel him in faster and tighter so she could get him to open up about his houseguest. She wasn't proud of her actions then, but she was of John's now.

John had known she needed to hear from Gil, so he'd arranged it. At his own emotional expense, and pride.

Her remaining ire eased out along with her breath. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth. That you're back at it too soon. That you need to get your butt home and get some serious rest." Gil's sigh mirrored hers. "But we both know that's not possible right now. So listen closely: you need to take your downtime whenever and wherever you can. And take it seriously. This stress? It's not helping. Neither did the stunt that bastard pulled on you last night. Garrison told me what Durrani said, what he did. I know you're rattled. Hell, anyone would be, and they don't share your past. But you'll get through this. Durrani won't. It's over for him. Don't let that bastard win. I meant it, Rae. The way your arm reacted? If you don't take it easy, you'll be risking a significant setback. Possibly one that's irreversible. And then where will you be?"

Lord, she hated when Gil was right. "I know."

Nor was she mad at him either. The contents of a soldier's medical record weren't sacrosanct like a civilian's were. The needs of the nation and the mission came first. Always. It was right there when you signed on the dotted line. Gil would've been obligated to talk no matter who'd called him from her chain of command with respect to her current mission. Frankly, they were both lucky it had been John.

Still, another sigh filled the line, overridden at the end as its owner's name was paged over the hospital's PA system. "Rae, I—"

"Gotta go."

"Yeah. Hang in there."

Before she could agree, he'd hung up.

She was left staring at those barren, windowless walls. They were driving her nuts. Her makeshift office was rapidly becoming her makeshift cell, trapping her with the other bombshell that Jeffers had lobbed her way earlier.

John had an open offer with Homeland Security. And he hadn't told her.

It hurt. More than she wanted to admit. Though, really, what had she expected? That he'd stick around for the long haul? John might've intimated as much when she'd woken from her coma. And he might've reiterated it silently last night aboard the Griffith when he'd held her in her rack. Hell, he'd even all but roared it in the wardroom this morning while he'd been staring down Riyad.

So why hadn't he told her about the offer?

They hadn't had a lot of time for privacy, but they'd found some.

Did he want the slot? More than he wanted her?

She could hear Durrani and his acidic filth filling her ear, eating away at her confidence. Damned if the man's voice didn't sound a lot like her final foster mother's at the moment. As much as she hated to admit it, both were right. She was damaged goods. Between her dad, her mom, her grandfather, fifteen different foster homes and her final, not-so-loving group facility, how could she be anything else?

Hell, even Mira, Jelly and Gil all added together had never been able to fill the gaping hole inside her. Worse, she'd donned a different mask with so many people for so many years, she wasn't sure who was really beneath it anymore.

How could John figure it out? Much less love who he found enough to want to stick around for the long haul? No one else had. Ever. She'd been told eighteen times that she wasn't worth it. Even the world's biggest moron would get that message. She didn't need Durrani or anyone else telling her that, eventually, John would do the same.

And then he'd leave. It was probably best that he do it now. While she still had the strength to let him go.

Screw this. Gil was right. She could not let that bastard get to her. Not even if John left the Army—and her—for good.

She retrieved her phone and called Scott. DSS agents were qualified to investigate embassy personnel overseas; he might as well assist. Even if he wouldn't know what he was really assisting with.

Not only had Scott pushed through his own work on the human trafficking sting, he'd already retrieved the keys to Staff Sergeant Brandt's quarters from the RSO's office and had been about to pick up the phone himself to call her.

"Grab your gear, Prez. I'll be there in five minutes to show you the way to the Marine House."

He made it in three.

Regan waited until she and Scott had entered the two-story barracks building and climbed the stairs to