Free Operation Zulu Redemption: Hazardous Duty - Part 3 by Ronie Kendig

bottle in a small trash bag, his gaze never leaving hers. “I needed him where I could see and control him.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “That he plastered your name and likeness all over the Internet. He ran your fingerprints through databases.”
    “Fingerprints? Where’d he get those?”
    “Doesn’t matter,” Trace said, hooking his hands on a thin counter behind him. “He had them, and we couldn’t afford you popping back up on the grid when you’re supposed to be dead.”
    “But here?”
    Trace said nothing, just gave her that look. The one that said he didn’t have a regret. That he made the right decision.
    “Just like Albuquerque.”
    He flinched.
    “This is just like that because you think it’s the right thing.”
    Remaining tight-lipped, he didn’t move.
    Annie scooted in till she stood wedged between him and the counter. “Trace, I can’t do this. I can’t operate with him here.”
    “Fine.”
    She breathed a little easier.
    “I’ll send him to max-sec.”
    “
Prison?
Are you serious?”
    Again, he went tight-lipped.
    “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Sending him away, where I can’t speak to him.”
    “I want him where he can’t do any more harm to you or the others. It’s not just about you, Annie.”
    She leaned in, her heart thundering. “Isn’t it, Trace?”
    “What does that mean?”
    “You brought him here because you knew I wouldn’t like it. You wanted him to see that. To see me blow him off.”
    “I wanted his hands out of the fire. Do you realize, have any idea, what his hunting you almost did to this entire team? Do you know what it’s done to me?”
    “To you?” She scoffed. “You did this because you couldn’t have me, so you didn’t want him to have me.”
    “It was five years ago, Annie. I got over it.”
    “Yeah?” she said, her lungs squeezing tight. “Well, I haven’t.”
    Trace went still, his green eyes probing hers.
    The heat rushed through Annie’s face, disbelieving she’d said that out loud.
    His frown deepened, digging a deep groove between his eyes. That look is what darkened the intensity around his eyes. What had drawn her in. . .every time. She could smell him. Smell the woodsy scent that mingled with the smell that was uniquely Trace.
    His hand came to her cheek, smelling of antiseptic soap—probably from the onboard bathrooms. Despite calloused fingers, his touch was light. Soft as he traced his thumb along her jaw.
    Annie felt her body responding to his touch as it had all those years ago. The tremor in her chest strangled the hope of a steady breath.
    He leaned closer, his gaze on her mouth.
    Breath backed into her throat.
    “Need something, Squid?” Trace said, his breath skidding across her cheek, then he eased away.
    Annie jerked, realizing Trace was actually looking over her shoulder. She glanced that way and froze. Darkening what served as a doorway, Sam stood there, a wicked storm brewing in his expression. When she moved backward, she bumped the counter, so she sidestepped and turned. “Sam.”
    His upper lip curled. “This how you keep her loyalty, Colonel?”
    Trace moved toward Sam, and Annie planted her hands against Trace’s abs. “Trace, don’t.”
    Eyes on Sam, Trace touched Annie’s shoulder. “It’s okay.” Trace almost looked ambivalent. He moved past Sam, every taut second it took him to move past him filled with crackling tension.
    Fists balled, Sam gave her commander a look that could kill.
    Annie breathed a cold, painful breath as Trace returned to his seat. Then slapped Sam’s gut. “
What
was that
?
Do you really have a death wish?”
    This time, Sam seemed ambivalent. “Talking to me now?”
    Fingers to her forehead, Annie slumped against the wall of cabinets. “Sam. . .I’m sorry.”
    “For what?” He stepped into the clogged space. Arms folded he looked much larger than she remembered. “For lying to me for four years? For faking your attraction to me? Or for attacking me in