Page 43 of When We Collide

My eyebrows raise in surprise and amusement, unable to hide the smug grin that spreads across my face. I know Jeyla can never resist me when I'm in my uniform, but to hear that she was turned on by watching me fly adds a whole new level of satisfaction. The thrill of flying mixed with the heat between us is an intoxicating combination, and I want nothing more than to explore it further with her.

But first, I need to find a way out of this mares nest.

“Eat it.”Dean insists, glowering hard at me from across the table.

I shake my head, my stomach rolls when I look down at the grilled cheese toastie sitting on the plate in front of me. “I don't want it. I’m not hungry.”

“JJ, you haven’t eaten anything in two days. You are not moving from that chair until I see you finish every bite of that toastie,” he declares firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Dean’s stern tone combined with the death stare he’s pinning me with has my spine tingling with agitation. “Excuse me?” I hiss, narrowing my eyes at him. “I think you’re mistaking me for oneof your air cadets,Captain. You don’t bark orders at me. I am not a damn child.” I fire back at him and stubbornly cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair.

“Really, JJ? Because you sure are acting like one right now.” Dean voices, leaning forward and staring intently into my eyes. I know him well enough to know he means business when he looks at me like that. Before I can respond, he speaks again with a sense of tenacity. “Do I need to remind you that you’re breastfeeding? If you don’t eat, you won’t produce milk to feed our son.” His words struck a chord within me, and I feel a pang of guilt settle in my chest. With gentle but firm hands, Dean pushes the plate closer to me. “Eat,” he commands, his unwavering gaze daring me to defy him.

Damn him and his gorgeous eyes. If I wasn’t so infuriated right now, I would have dived across that table and kissed him.

Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to challenge him, but one, I don’t have the energy, and two, I know he will make good on his threat and I’m not about to go anywhere. And three… well, he’s absurdly attractive when he’s being all firm and authoritative. So, I begrudgingly pick up the toastie, ignore the churn in my stomach and take a bite out of it in a very exaggerated manner—might I add.

“Happy now, asshat?”

“I will be when you finish it, shrew,” Dean replies and casually sinks back into his chair. I don’t miss the smug smirk that pulls at his lips as he goes to sip his cup of coffee.

“Self-righteous git.” I mumble as I take another bite of the toastie and force myself to swallow it before I projectile vomit allover Dean. Though, that would serve him right for forcing food down my throat when I tell him I’m not hungry.

“I heard that.” Dean expresses with an arched brow, and I push the plate of half-eaten toastie away from me and sit back in my chair.

“Good, you were supposed to. I’m sure I didn’t stutter.” Dean stares at me, keeping me locked in his gaze as he leans forward.

“You’re lucky I have a briefing I need to be at in a couple of minutes or I would have taken you back to my bunker and fucked that bitchy attitude right out of you, JJ.”

My cheeks heat up and I feel my heart pacing a little faster because I know he will make good on his threat, but I’m not about to show him that he’s affecting me. “It’s going to take a lot more than your monstrous cock to subdue me this time, Captain.”

Dean’s lips quirk and his eyes do a quick sweep to ensure no one is listening before they settle on me again. “I have fingers and a tongue too baby girl, or have you forgotten how resourceful I can be? I’ll have you begging for mercy in two minutes tops.”

I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to keep me distracted with the back-and-forth suggestive banter so I don’t worry, but my mind is still reeling with thoughts of getting DJ back and how he is. Are they looking after him properly? Or are they torturing him? What is he eating? The briefdistractionswith Dean serve as temporary relief, but the weight of worry for my son's safety continues to gnaw at me like a crushing force I can’t seem to shift. One that is slowly and painfully siphoning the air out of my lungs.

My heart aches with longing to hold him in my arms once again, to bury my nose in his soft fluffy hair and fill my legs with his heavenly baby scent.

And then there’s the threat to Dean's life which is constantly looming in the back of my mind. I’m terrified he won’t make it back alive and I’m going to have to face a life without him all over again. I feel so goddamn helpless. The only thing I can do is put all of my hope and trust into a higher power and pray that I’ll get my family back together.

“I would much rather you channel that energy into bringing my son back home safe and sound.”

Dean interrupts me with a sharp push of his chair, the legs scraping against the dark grey vinyl floors and filling the canteen with an uncomfortable screech. “Our son, Jeyla,” he corrects me sternly. I can feel the tension in his voice as he speaks. “DJ is my son too. You're also not the only one that's worried about him, alright?”

My eyes intently track his movements as he rises to his full height, towering over me. I can feel my anger boiling beneath the surface as I sneer at him and narrow my eyes in irritation. “Really?” I spit out, my tone laced with bitterness. “Because you seem awfully laid-back considering your son has been abducted by the world’s most ruthless arms dealer who wants your head.” A fleeting expression of hurt flickers across Dean's face at my words. I watch as he leans forward, placing his hands firmly on the table and lowering himself to meet my eye level before responding.

“What would you suggest I do, JJ?” Dean's voice is slow and deliberate. “Burn the whole fucking place down? I've been in and out of briefings with intelligence, doing everything in mypower to prepare for DJ's safe return. There are a million things happening behind the scenes that need to be taken care of before we can even think about making a move. Until we receive the green light to proceed with our operation, there isn't much else we can do but wait. Do you think I'm not feeling the same anger, frustration, and anxiety that you are? Of course, I want DJ back unharmed just as desperately as you do, but chewing me out or giving me attitude won't make things happen any faster.”

“I know you carry a lot of resentment toward me, and I take full accountability for it,” he admits. “But please believe me when I say I am doing everything in my power to fix this,” he leans forward earnestly. “Iwillget DJ back at whatever cost.”

A lump that feels like the size of a golf ball forms in my throat and I can feel tears prickling the back of my eyelids while I sit impossibly still, looking at him mutely. It’s not until Dean stands upright and turns to walk off that I allow the tears to fall.

The canteen suddenly feels suffocating, a mix of emotions and unspoken tension looms in the air while I watch his retreating back, his entire posture wound tight.

Well fucking done, Jeyla.

Three hours have goneby since Dean walked off after our little tiff in the canteen. I’ve been pacing the small space of his bunker waiting for him to return from the briefing, but each hour that passes seems to drag on longer than the last. Meanwhile myconscience is gnawing away at me. My emotions are all over the place. My nerves are frayed, so much that I’m unsure of how I’m supposed to feel or act with him and it’s clearly frustrating us both.

I am still resentful toward him. I wish I wasn’t but the damage he’s done to me, and my mental health, isn’t something that’s going to magically heal and vanish because he’s back and we’ve slept together a couple of times. Dean has broken me both intentionally and unintentionally in so many ways I don’t think I will ever be whole again.

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