Faint color dusted her cheeks, but over time she’d grown accustomed to him displaying his love and affection and admiration for her in front of others, though it had taken a lot of adjustment on her part.
“No one should ever have to suffer such degradation and humiliation. No one should ever feel so ashamed that they literally want to end their ceaseless suffering by taking their life. And yet she apologized for almost fucking up the mission,” P.J. said, terrible rage blazing in her eyes. “She apologized for being weak, for fuck’s sake, and not being able to save all those people because for that one moment she only wanted to die so the pain would finally end. No wonder Hancock can’t and won’t hand her over to Maksimov. Swear to God if he did, there wouldn’t be a safe place on this earth for him because I’d hunt him down and I’d repay in kind every hurt done to her.”
“Singing to the choir, sistah,” Skylar said, anger dulling her usually sparkling and infectious smile and gaze.
Nathan and Joe exchanged glances, then looked to their team, where Swanny stood tall and rigid. Before the twins could say anything, Swanny stepped forward, defying the precedent set by Rio and Steele’s team of waiting for their team leader’s decision before falling in behind him.
“I’m in,” Swanny said in a determined voice.
“So are we,” P.J. said, as she and Cole stepped forward, P.J.’s hand clasped tightly in Cole’s. There were flickers of surprise at P.J.’s lack of hesitation. It wasn’t a secret that she’d love to get Hancock between the crosshairs of her scope for one of her team members being shot by Hancock’s team when the mission to save Grace went all to hell. She’d sworn to kick his ass if she ever met up with him in a dark alley somewhere.
Zane and Skylar stepped up on either side of Swanny, not even voicing what their action implied. There was no need. Their actions did all the talking for them.
“I think we have mutiny on our hands,” Joe said with a wry smile.
Nathan shook his head. “Like our team is going anywhere without us?”
All attention turned to Sam and Garrett, the only two who hadn’t spoken up.
“Fine. I’m in,” Garrett said, throwing up his hands amid more muttered F-bombs.
Sam sighed. “Do you all honestly think I’m letting you infants go off on your own? Fuck that. I’m in. If only to save your goddamn asses.”
A round of flipping the bird erupted, breaking the strain so evident in the room. Then Sam issued the order for them to load and go. Hancock didn’t have much time, judging by the grim lines marring Maren’s delicate, feminine features.
“And just so you know, I’m in,” Maren said in a voice that rivaled her husband’s demanding tone. “Olivia can stay with Marlene.”
You could have broken a stone on Steele’s face as he grappled with the knowledge that he’d be putting his wife—his entire life—in harm’s way. But he also knew that Maren was Hancock’s only chance at survival. With a resigned sigh that said he didn’t like it one bit, he gave a clipped nod and was rewarded with a loving smile that melted the big man to his toes.