The Lieutenant was dead.
Daniel didn't feel good about it. It was a messy, loud execution in a warehouse filled with glass and rain. He had left the body for the Agency cleaners.
He sat in his car two blocks away, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
His chest was on fire.
The Red Queen's blade hadn't penetrated his skin—the Kevlar vest had saved his life—but the force of her kick and the impact of the hilt had left a bruise that was already turning black.
It felt like a cracked rib.
She's getting faster, Daniel thought, wincing as he checked his blind spot. And she's angry. She fought like she had a personal vendetta.
He put the car in gear.
He didn't care about the pain. He cared about the time.
It was 1:15 AM.
If Elena woke up and found the bed empty, the "Logistics" cover would start to crack.
THE REED HOUSE – 1:20 AM
Elena was already home.
She had broken three traffic laws and nearly totaled her sedan to beat him back.
She stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection.
Her face was pale. Sweat matted her hairline.
She gripped the edge of the sink with her left hand. Her right arm hung uselessly at her side.
He hits like a freight train, she thought, gritting her teeth.
The Ghost's punch to her shoulder hadn't broken bone, but it had crushed the muscle. Raising her arm was impossible. Taking off her shirt had been a five-minute ordeal of suppressed screams.
She had hidden the tactical suit in the false wall. She had scrubbed the gunpowder residue from her hands. She had slipped into her silk pajamas.
Now, she just had to survive the night.
She heard the garage door rumble.
He's home.
Elena swallowed two painkillers dry. She forced her breathing to slow. She splashed cold water on her face to hide the sweat.
She turned off the bathroom light and slipped into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin to hide her trembling shoulder.
You are asleep, she told herself. You are warm. You are a wife.
Daniel entered the bedroom silently.
He had ditched his vest in the trunk of his car. He was wearing his undershirt and boxers, holding his side as he walked.
He paused at the foot of the bed.
Elena was there. A lump under the grey duvet.
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
She's safe. She doesn't know.
He moved to his side of the bed. He sat down heavily.
Groan.
The sound escaped him before he could stop it. The pain in his ribs spiked, sharp and hot.
Elena shifted. She opened her eyes.
They were groggy, but focused.
"Daniel?"
"Sorry," Daniel whispered, freezing. "Did I wake you?"
"You're late," she murmured. She tried to sit up.
She pushed off the mattress with her right arm.
Mistake.
A bolt of agony shot from her shoulder to her neck. She gasped, her arm collapsing under her weight. She fell back onto the pillows, her face twisting in pain.
Daniel saw it.
He forgot his own ribs. He reached for her.
"El? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Elena lied through clenched teeth. "Just... slept on my arm funny. Pins and needles."
"That didn't look like pins and needles," Daniel said. He turned on the bedside lamp.
The soft yellow light flooded the space between them.
He saw the sheen of sweat on her forehead.
She saw the way he was hunching forward, protecting his chest.
"You're hurt," Elena said. It wasn't a question.
"I... had an accident at the office," Daniel said. "Tripped over a pallet in the loading bay. Landed right on a concrete bollard. It's embarrassing."
Elena looked at his chest. Through the thin white undershirt, she could see the dark outline of a bruise spreading across his sternum.
That's not a fall, she analyzed instantly. That's blunt force trauma. Someone kicked him.
Or...
She remembered the fight on the roof. She remembered kicking the Ghost in the chest to create distance.
No, she dismissed the thought. The Ghost was huge. Daniel is... Daniel.
He probably got mugged and is too proud to tell me.
"Let me see," Elena said.
"It's fine, El. Go back to sleep."
"Let me see."
She sat up—carefully this time, using her left arm. She pulled his shirt up.
The bruise was ugly. A mottled map of purple and yellow.
Elena's fingers grazed the skin. She felt the heat radiating off the injury.
She felt a surge of protective rage.
Who did this to you?
Was it Vix? Did she get you into something dangerous?
"I'll get the ice," Elena said.
"I can get it," Daniel protested.
"Sit," Elena commanded.
She slid out of bed. She walked to the ensuite bathroom, favoring her right side, her arm held stiffly against her ribs.
Daniel watched her walk.
He noticed the stiffness. He noticed she wasn't swinging her right arm.
She slept on it funny, he repeated to himself. That's all.
TEN MINUTES LATER
The room was quiet.
Daniel lay propped up against the headboard. Elena sat beside him.
She held a gel ice pack against his chest.
He held a heating pad against her shoulder.
It was a tableau of domestic tragedy. Two liars, nursing the wounds they had inflicted on each other.
"Does it hurt?" Daniel asked softly, adjusting the heat on her shoulder.
"Only when I move," Elena said. "What about you?"
"Only when I breathe," Daniel joked weakly.
They sat in silence for a long moment.
The rain tapped against the window—the same rain that had soaked them on the rooftop an hour ago.
"Daniel," Elena said, staring at the bruise under her hand.
"Are you happy? With your job?"
Daniel looked at her. "Why do you ask?"
"Because you come home late," Elena said. "You come home tired. And now you come home hurt. Is it worth it?"
Is Vix worth it? she wanted to ask.
Daniel reached out and took her hand—her left hand. He squeezed it.
"It pays the mortgage," he said. "It keeps us safe."
"I don't need to be safe," Elena whispered. "I need you in one piece."
Daniel looked at her. Her hair was messy. Her eyes were tired. She looked vulnerable.
He felt a wave of guilt so strong it almost choked him.
He was hunting the Red Queen to protect this woman. But the hunt was bleeding into their home.
"I'm going to quit," Daniel said suddenly.
Elena looked up, surprised. "What?"
"Not... not today," Daniel stammered, realizing he couldn't just walk away from the Agency without a body bag. "But soon. I'm working on a... big project. Once it's done, I'm out. I promise. Just us. Maybe we can open that second café location you wanted."
Elena smiled. It was a sad, fragile smile.
"I'd like that."
She leaned her head on his uninjured shoulder.
"Just us," she repeated.
Daniel kissed her hair.
"Just us."
They fell asleep like that. Tangled together. Ice melting. Heat fading.
Both dreaming of a future they knew they couldn't have.
Because the "Big Project" Daniel needed to finish was killing the Red Queen.
And the "Project" Elena needed to finish was killing the Ghost.
They were holding the very thing they were sworn to destroy.
End of Chapter 21
Author Note:
The irony is suffocating! She's icing the bruise she gave him! He's heating the shoulder he punched!
They just promised to retire after they kill each other. 😭
How long can this lie last? The clues are piling up...
Drop a Power Stone if you feel bad for these deadly idiots! 💔🩹