Into the Mist (Falcon Mercenary Group #1)(25)

Finally content with the plan of action she’d formed, she uncurled her stiff limbs and stood. She dug her hands into the side of the cliff and prepared to climb back up to the deck.

A few minutes later, she hauled herself over the railing and fell with a thump.

“Climbing up and down a cliff is never a good idea after drinks and marijuana,” Jonah said dryly.

She stood, brushing herself off as she looked over to see Jonah sitting in the dark. When he continued to stare at her, she let her shoulders sag and braced herself for a lecture.

When he didn’t say anything further, she leaned against the railing and propped her weight on her hands.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Waiting for you.”

She stiffened again.

“I know you’re angry with me, Ty. In your shoes, I would be too.”

She stared uneasily at him. The only thing worse than a brooding, pissed-off Jonah, was dealing with a Jonah she wasn’t used to. An understanding, nice Jonah.

“I would have done the same thing you did,” he said quietly.

She went completely still.

“I’m not condoning what you did, but I understand why. Even though I can’t allow you to continue this crusade to help D.”

A frustrated sigh spilled from her lips.

“If this was a mission, if it was anything else, I’d place my confidence and my trust in you. You’ve never let me down. You’re damn good. Our team relies on you.”

Even as her cheeks tightened with pleasure from his rare praise, disappointment settled heavy in her stomach. “Why don’t you trust me now?”

He sighed. “It’s not a matter of trust, Ty.” He stood and covered the short distance between them. He stood just inches from her and looked down. In the pale moonlight, she could see tension and fatigue etched into his hard features. “You, Mad Dog and D are the only family I have. The only people I care about. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her fingers curled into tight balls against the coarse wood railing. “But D needs help. By not allowing me off the island, you’re hurting him.”

Jonah shook his head. “I won’t trade you for D.” His words echoed Mad Dog’s statement of a few days ago. “We’ll find a way to help him that doesn’t involve you chasing after Eli Chance or his team of shifters.”

He reached out and gripped her shoulders. “Do you understand that, Ty? Do you honestly think any of us could be happy that Damiano was saved at your expense? It doesn’t work like that, and if you think it does, then you don’t know us very well.”

Shame crept up her spine. Tentatively she circled Jonah’s waist with her arms and pressed her cheek to his chest. He hesitated for a moment then slid his hands from her shoulders and hugged her tightly against him.

After a few seconds, she shifted uncomfortably and pulled away. He stepped back and shoved a hand to the back of his neck. It was more up close and personal than either of them felt comfortable with. She chuckled softly. Boneheads, the both of them.

“Thanks, Jonah,” she said.

He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Get some rest, okay? You look like hell.”

“Gee thanks.”

She watched him walk back inside and expelled a pent-up breath when he closed the sliding doors behind him. It was as if he’d read her goddamn mind and knew exactly what to say to make her feel about six inches high.

For a brief moment, she contemplated chucking her carefully thought-out plan, but the image of Damiano writhing on the floor, in so much pain, shut the door on any guilt she felt.

Jonah’s anger, his disapproval, she could face. She couldn’t face herself if she let Damiano down. Jonah might well toss her out on her ass once this was all over with, and she wouldn’t blame him. No one in FMG crossed him. What he said went. But as long as Damiano got what he needed to survive, she was okay with the fallout over her actions.

Chapter Nine

It wasn’t easy to pick a time when either Mad Dog or Jonah wasn’t skulking about. Tyana sometimes wondered if they slept at all.

She picked an hour before dawn, typically when Mad Dog had just gone to sleep and Jonah was holed up in his office doing what he did best. Brood.

She put on a muscle shirt, a pair of shorts and her running shoes then walked out of her room, prepared with a story that she couldn’t sleep and was going on a run. Something that, as it happened, occurred frequently.

First she’d swing by and check on D.

When she found two guards posted outside his door, she frowned. When she tried to move past them and open the door, they moved to block her.

“Sorry, Jonah’s orders. No one goes in without his say so.”

Anger exploded within her. She wanted to kick their asses and then go tear a strip off Jonah’s hide, but she had to remember her objective.

She glared at them both before she stalked down the hall to the stairs. When she was stopped by another of Jonah’s security team, she let out a hiss of impatience.

“I’m going running. Or is that allowed?”

“Let her go,” Jonah called from his office door where he stood watching Tyana.

She turned her resentful stare at him and had to make herself forget about the fact he’d barred her from Damiano’s room. Otherwise they’d be in each other’s faces again, and she wouldn’t get anything accomplished.