Page 81 of A Violet Obsession

“Sometimes,” he admits. His thumb goes still. “I miss the person I thought she was.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

His brows draw together. “I already did.”

“No, I mean the entire story. You know all my wounds. It’s only fair you show me yours.”

He pulls back and shoves a hand through his hair. “Mine are long healed.”

“Bullshit.”

29

FINN

She keeps her hand flat on my chest, warm and steady.

“Please.”

I’ve never told the full story before. In my exit report, Vincent only wanted the facts. His own feelings about the situation were volatile.

Looking into Lily’s soft eyes and survivor soul, I’m not afraid she’ll judge me for what I did.

“I was overseas after I got out of the Army—working for the company Vincent ran before he joined Brady.”

“What were you doing?”

I choose my words carefully. “Private security. The kind of jobs governments and individuals don’t want to risk being connected to.”

“Our government?”

I give her a pointed look. “We went where the money pointed and didn’t ask too many questions.”

“Where were you that time?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I pause, knowing she deserves more. “A place where people are more likely to kill you than talk to you.”

Her fingers twitch against my chest, and I cover her hand with mine. It’s easier to speak with her touch grounding me. “We were there too long. Long enough to get comfortable and make connections. The man who hired us had a personal assistant.” The name still burns like acid. “Elara.”

I breathe past the tightness in my ribs. “She was beautiful. Cultured. Smarter than me, and I liked that. I thought she was perfect.”

Lily frowns but stays quiet, letting me set the pace.

“I was so blinded by her, I missed every red flag. Rhodes saw them. Vincent did, too. He warned me it was moving too fast, that I couldn’t trust someone from that life. That a woman like her didn’t pick a man like me unless she wanted something—intel, money, whatever.”

“That’s because Vincent is a man,” Lily mutters.

I squeeze her hand, grateful for her loyalty, even if it’s misplaced. “Elara knew exactly which buttons to push with me. And she was very good at it.”

The logs shift in the fire, sending up a hiss of sparks. I release Lily’s hand and push to my feet, nerves firing as I pace the room.

“One night, I woke up and caught her downloading files from my computer. I realized she’d already been in before—probably more than once when I was asleep. She’d sold the information that sent our team straight into an ambush.”

Lily’s eyes widen. The memory slams into me the way it always does, though normally it only comes to me in my dreams.

“You were never on your high school’s basketball team,” I snort, not buying Rhodes’s bullshit about winning with a three-point shot. Before Rhodes can defend himself, a kid runs in front of our SUV. I slam on the brakes, the bumper stopping inches from him. He’s maybe eight years old, with eyes wide with fear. He doesn’t run. He just stands there, staring at us through the windshield, his fingers twitching at his side—one at a time, like he’s counting.

Every hair on my body stands up. The kid bolts as the radio crackles with shouting from the rest of the convoy, now out of sight somewhere in front of us.