Page 96 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

The silence left behind in Drakon’s wake is a living thing, heavy with the weight of his threats. I can almost hear it mocking me, laughing at the futility of my situation. But I refuse to let him win. My mind races, searching for some kind of angle, some way out of this mess. There has to be something I’m missing, some weakness I can exploit. I just need time...

A rustle of fabric draws my attention, a whisper of movement from the shadowed corner of the room. I tense, bracing for another of Drakon’s goons. But it’s merely Admiral Brady, standing guard at the door.

“How could you do this?” The question feels strange on my tongue, bitter with the taste of betrayal.

Admiral Brady regards me with an expression I can’t quite read. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. But there’s something else there, too. Something harder. Resignation.

“Thatcher,” he says, his voice gruff. “I never wanted it to come to this.”

“Really?” I can’t keep the venom from my tone. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re right at home in Drakon’s pocket. You sold us out. Me, Griffin, Hunter… Jenna.” My wife’s name catches in my throat.

He flinches at that, a subtle tightening around his eyes. Good. I want him to feel it, the sting of his own treachery.

“It’s not that simple,” he starts, but I cut him off with a harsh laugh.

“It never is, is it? There’s always some excuse, some justification for turning treasonous, isn’t there?”

“I’m not—” He stops, takes a breath. “I didn’t sell out, Thatcher. You and I, we signed up for this life. We knew the risks when we enlisted. But I’m trying to protect people. Innocent people who have nothing to do with any of this.”

Innocent people like Jenna.“By handing me over to a psychopath? By letting him terrorize my family?” The words tear from my throat, raw and bleeding.

“That’s not… I never meant for that to happen.” He runs a hand over his face, and for a moment, he looks old. Tired. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” I stare at him, incredulous. “In what world is helping Drakon the right thing?”

“In a world where my best operatives gave up! Quit the team and left the rest of us to clean up his mess,” he snaps, his composure cracking. “A world where after your wife died, you turned your back on your duties and your country.”

I rear back like he’s slapped me. “To raise myson. After that man murdered my wife. She knew she was being followed by someone. She told me and I ignored it. It’s partially my fault that she’s gone, but anything that happens next is all on you, Admiral.”

The admiral looks away, his jaw working. “It’s not that simple,” he says again, but there’s less conviction in it this time.

“Not that simple? Dmitriy Mikhailo was a confirmed terrorist. An arms dealer. And he was planning an attack on U.S. soil. Taking him out was the only way to prevent it.” My voice cracks, the truth spilling out like blood from a wound. “I was following orders, Admiral.Yourorders. The same orders we’ve followed a hundred times before. Since when do you join the ranks of a Russian mobster over one of your own men?” I’m grasping at straws, trying to find some shred of the man I used to know. The man who taught me everything I know about being a soldier.

“Things change, Thatcher. Circumstances change.” He sounds tired. Defeated.

“Circumstances? Is that what we’re calling it now?” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice. “What circumstances could possibly justify this? What could Drakon have offered you to make you turn your back on everything we stand for?”

The admiral’s silence is answer enough. But I press on, needing to hear him say it.

“What did he promise you, Admiral? Money? Power? Or was it something else? Something more personal?”

“Enough!” He slams his hand against the wall, the sudden violence of it startling in the quiet room. Slowly, Admiral Brady’s eyes lock on mine. “You of all people know what he’s capable of.”

And there it is. The truth, hanging in the air between us.

“He threatened your family, didn’t he?” I ask softly, understanding dawning like a rising sun. “Your wife. Your kids.”

The admiral’s shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. “I couldn’t risk it, Thatcher. I couldn’t risk them. Not even for you.”

“I get it,” I say, and I do. God help me, I do. “But this isn’t the way. Do you really think Drakon is going to spare your family? We’ve been gathering intel on Drakon’s empire for years before I retired… You and I both know he doesn’t leave any loose ends.”

“You don’t know that?—”

“Idoknow that. And you do, too.” The admission tastes like ash on my tongue, but it needs to be said, nonetheless.

Admiral Brady looks at me then,reallylooks at me. And for a moment, I see a flicker of the man I used to know. The man who would’ve gone to hell and back for his team.

“Let me help you,” I plead, sensing an opening. “We can take Drakon down together. We can protect your family, get them somewhere safe.”

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