The team is starting to click, and that should feel good. It should feel like progress, but something in me resists because it’s happening too fast. Faster than I thought it would.
Storm with his constant grin and restless energy. Razor running sharp with something to prove. They’re filling the space where Charlie’s quiet steadiness used to be. Where Brett’s dry, bone-deep loyalty used to hold the line beside me.
They stepped away. Left Guardian HRS to start their next chapter—family, peace, and an everyday life. They earned it, but I’m still here.
Still carrying the weight.
Still watching the gaps close around me as if the shape of this new team was always meant to form.
“Earth to Jon.” Storm’s voice breaks through, a hand waving casually in front of my face. “You in there?”
I blink, drag my thoughts back. “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Just thinking we should wrap it up. After-action review in fifteen.”
“Copy that.” Razor’s already tugging on his shirt.
Storm lingers half a second longer, gaze steady. He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t push. Just nods once, then follows Razor out.
I roll my shoulders, working out the lingering tension. The facility hums around me—the sound of professionals honing their craft. The steady rhythm of gunfire from the range, the distant clack of keyboards from the tech hub where Mitzy’s team works their magic.
My phone vibrates in my gym bag. A message lights up the screen, bringing an involuntary smile to my face. The sight of Aria’s name triggers something warm in my chest.
“Hey.” I press the phone to my ear, suddenly aware of how much I’ve missed her voice today.
“Jon.” My name in her mouth carries a tension that instantly puts me on alert. “I need a favor, and I completely understand if you can’t, but I’m kind of desperate.”
“What’s wrong?” I’m already moving toward the Delta team’s bullpen.
“My father.” The two words carry volumes of complication. “He demanded I come to his office at seven tonight for some ‘urgent business discussion’ that can’t wait, but I managed to negotiate dinner at Mastro’s instead. I—I don’t want to face him alone.”
I pause by my locker, weighing the implications of what she’s not saying. Marcus Holbrook—billionaire, power broker, and Aria’s father—remains unaware of our relationship. Aria’s choice, and one I’ve respected, though the secrecy sits uneasily with me. Asking me to join her represents a significant shift in her approach to our relationship.
“What do you need?”
“Come with me?” A pause, then, “I know it’s last-minute, and probably crossing all kinds of lines since I’ve been keeping you secret from him, but?—”
“I’ll be there.” The decision comes without hesitation. “What time?”
The relief in her voice is palpable. “Seven, at Mastro’s. God, thank you. You have no idea?—”
“Aria.” I cut through her stream of gratitude. “It’s fine. I’ve got your back. I’m just surprised you want me there, given how careful you’ve been about keeping us separate from your father.”
“I know. But after today…” She sighs with a heaviness I want to lighten. “I rejected his business expansion plans for the shop, and I’m done hiding parts of my life from him. It’s time.”
“Whatever you need, it’s yours.” Her words send a rush of pride through me.
“That’s why I—” She stops herself. “That’s why you’re you.”
The unspoken words hang between us, a bridge neither of us is quite ready to cross. Not yet. I smile into the phone.
“I need to clean up. I’ll meet you at the shop at six?”
“Perfect. And, Jon? Brace yourself. He’s… Well, he’s Marcus Holbrook.”
“I’ve faced worse.” I keep my tone light, though we both know it’s not entirely a joke.
SIXTEEN
Jon