Page 66 of Chasing Grace
“I’m sorry, Gracie. I truly am.”
She kept her gaze steady despite the use of her childhood nickname but jammed her hands in her pockets to hide their shaking. “For which part, Adam? Making me believe you were dead? Leaving me to bury Mom by myself? Aiming a sniper rifle at my chest and pulling the trigger? Which is it, because I’d really like to know what the fuckyou’resorry for?”
“All of it.”
She shook her head and averted her teary gaze to the wall of windows. Sunshine streamed through the dusty glass, a hazy reminder of happier times when they were younger.
“I was there,” he said. “At Mount Sinai, before Mom died. She didn’t know anything about the mission, but she knew I was alive and working for the colonel.”
“And what about me?” she cried, looking back at her brother’s face. “Why couldn’t I be let in on the family secret, huh? Did I ever tell anyone anything? Did I ever put you at risk? Dad at risk? In case you’ve forgotten, the answer isno.”
“The mission was classified, Gray. Wecouldn’ttell you anything. Besides, it wasn’t safe.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. We didn’t know what we were dealing with. Hell, we still don’t know what we’re dealing with, and we didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. We were trying to protect you.”
“Well, that went according to plan, didn’t it? Twelve inches to the right, and you’d be burying me right alongside Mom.”
“I never would’ve pulled the trigger if I thought there was any chance I’d hit you. Have some faith.”
“Fuck faith and fuck you too. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the last two days? Screw that. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the last two years?” She could tell by his expression, he knew exactly where she’d been and what she’d been up to, and he was none too pleased about it. “Seriously?You’remad atme?Why? For Jordan?”
“For Jordan, for Afghanistan, for Libya, for Venezuela. Jesus, Gray. You’ve seen more action in the last two years than most combat-ready units.”
“I was doing my job!”
“You’re not trained for armed conflict! You don’t even know how to take the safety off a fucking handgun. Jackson was an ass—”
Volume steadily increasing, she shouted, “Don’t you dare!”
“You almost died! You want to talk about inches. An inch to the left and you would’ve come home from Jordan in a pine box. You think Jackson cared? He sent you to Kabul three days after you were discharged from the hospital.”
“At least he cared enough to come see me in the hospital,” she shot back.
“Once. He went to see you once. I was there every damn day for the first week and a half. Hell, I rode in the back of the fucking ambulance from Homestead Air Reserve Base to Miami Memorial.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That was you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re a shitty fucking paramedic!”
Adam threw his hands in the air. “You were hopped up on morphine and out cold three seconds after we loaded you in. How the fuck would you know?” His gray eyes held hers, and she saw the moment they softened. “I will always come for you, squirt. No matter where. No matter when. You know that, right?”
Her vision blurred as the chains around her heart loosened. “How could I possibly know that? I thought you were dead, dickhead.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to be undercover this long, or…”
She wiped at a leaky eye. “For me to go off the rails.”
He snorted. “You kidding me? I totally expected you to go off the rails. I just didn’t think you’d go out and get shot in the process.”
Oh God.The bubble of laughter started deep in her belly, shaking her insides until it erupted from her like water through a busted pipe.
Her brother was alive.
Alive and pissed at her for being shot—through no fault of her own.
