Page 77 of Duty Compromised
No fucking way.
Ethan Cross stood on my parents’ guesthouse porch, hands visible, posture relaxed but alert. He was wearing jeans and a Henley, Colorado casual, but his eyes swept the perimeter with professional assessment.
I yanked open the door. “What the?—”
“You sounded like you needed help.” He stepped inside without invitation, those dark eyes taking in everything. My bruised face. The weapon in my hand. The makeshift workstation with its tangle of cables and equipment. The bedroom door where Charlotte still slept. “When Citadel Solutions got no fewer than thirty-seven calls from Vertex and the FBI wondering where the hell you were, I figured something was going on I wasn’t exactly privy to.”
“Thirty-seven?”
“Thirty-seven. In eight hours.” He moved deeper into the house, checking sight lines automatically. “Since I was already planning to come out from Colorado this week to talk to Donovan anyway, today seemed like a good time. Got a mission in Kenya coming up. Thought Donovan might be particularly well suited for it. Anti-poaching unit needs someone with his K9 background.”
My phone buzzed on the table. I grabbed it. Text from Ben.
Sorry I didn’t warn you. Was afraid you’d run. Or do something stupidly heroic. PS: tell Ethan I kept the perimeter secure like a good soldier.
“Ben says hi,” I muttered.
“Tell him and Donovan I said hi back.” Ethan’s mouth quirked slightly. “Good to know they’re watching your back out there.”
He pulled out a kitchen chair, turned it around, and straddled it. The casual move didn’t fool me. Ethan could go from relaxed to lethal in under a second. I’d seen him do it.
“Sit,” he said. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
I sat. My ribs thanked me for it.
“Let’s start with the obvious,” Ethan said, his voice dropping into that tone he used when cutting through bullshit. “You’re the youngest member of our team. Newest too. But you’re still part of the Citadel Solutions family.”
“I know?—”
“Do you? Because family doesn’t take side jobs without telling anyone. Family doesn’t disappear off the grid when they’re supposed to be recovering from a gunshot wound.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I know I should’ve been upfront about it from the beginning.”
“Yes, you should have.” He leaned forward slightly. “Look, I get it. I understand the frustration of being on the sidelines too long. Feeling useless. Watching everyone else do the job while you sit at home counting ceiling tiles. But we wanted you on the sidelines so you’d come back stronger than ever. Getting the shit kicked out of you—” His eyes tracked over my visible injuries “—which has obviously happened, could make things worse. Set back your recovery. Maybe permanently affect your performance.”
I nodded, accepting the truth of it. My shoulder already ached worse than it had in weeks. The temple wound throbbed constantly. “You’re right. I know you’re right. And I’ve definitely set myself back.” I shifted in the chair, unable to find a position that didn’t hurt. “But that’s not even the worst part.”
His eyebrow rose. “Worse how?”
I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I’ve gotten involved with the principal. The person I’m protecting. Charlotte. Dr. Charlotte Gifford.”
The silence stretched between us. I waited for the explosion. The lecture about maintaining professional distance. The reminder about company policy. The disappointment.
Instead, Ethan laughed. Low and short, but genuine. “You expect me to read you the riot act?”
“Don’t you have to? Professional boundaries and all that?”
“I can’t throw too many stones there.” His expression softened slightly. “Considering I met Mel while on assignment. You were there for that disaster, remember? Me trying to keep it professional while falling for her? How’d that work out?”
“You married her.”
“I married her.” He shrugged. “Sometimes the heart doesn’t give a damn about professional boundaries or company policy. The question is whether it’s affecting your ability to protect her.”
I thought about the past three days. The desperate drive to keep Charlotte safe that went beyond professional duty. The way I’d taken risks I might not have taken for another principal. The knife-edge between keeping her alive and wanting to be close to her. “It’s making me more invested. Maybe too invested.”
“There’s no such thing as too invested when someone’s life is on the line.” Ethan’s voice carried the weight of experience. “The key thing is that Citadel is a team. We’re family. Real family. Family helps each other out when they’re in trouble. We don’t say ‘I told you so’ and walk away.”
Relief flooded through me, loosening muscles I hadn’t realized were tense. “I wasn’t sure?—”
