When he stepped outside into the blazing Texas sunshine, Reese took a deep breath, but he didn’t stop walking. He considered making a beeline for the truck parked with a line of other vehicles, all there for the same training exercises Reese had just undergone. Instead, he headed around to the side of the building.
He’d bet good money that no one else would go into a full-blown panic simply by walking into a dark room. It wasn’t the first time, either, and he hated that it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Pacing along the length of the enormous metal building, Reese allowed his breaths to return to normal. Being outside helped.
He was on another trek away when he heard the door slam shut, knew it was Brantley coming to check on him. It was enough to ratchet up his frustration another notch.
“You okay?” Brantley asked when Reese pivoted and headed in his direction.
“Fine,” he snapped. “I don’t need you checkin’ up on me.”
As soon as the words were out, he could see the surprise on Brantley’s face. If he hadn’t been seconds from that damn panic attack, he would’ve felt shitty for using Brantley as his verbal punching bag.
“What can I do to help?” Brantley asked, his tone harder than before.
Reese came to a stop, stared at the man. “You can give me some breathin’ room.”
Brantley held up his hands in the sign of surrender and took a step back.
“More than that,” Reese grumbled. “I need some distance. I need the truck keys.”
“They’re in the truck,” Brantley stated, his voice ringing with worry.
“I’ll see you back at the hotel later,” Reese said, marching away without a backward glance.
Reese found the truck unlocked, the keys under the seat where Brantley usually left them.
A second later, he was behind the wheel, pulling out of the parking lot. He didn’t give a shit if he looked like a fucking pathetic loser for walking out or running away. Right now, he couldn’t think straight, and he damn sure did not want to see the pity in Brantley’s eyes.
He’d seen it enough lately.
*
“He good?” RT asked when Brantley strolled back into the tech room.
Brantley glanced at the man who was technically his new boss. “Fine. We’ve been at it too long.”
When RT didn’t respond, Brantley knew Reese’s brother-in-law was as worried about Reese as he was.
He couldn’t blame the guy. Whatever was bothering Reese was now projecting off of him, and Brantley had a bad feeling that it was more than the panic attacks he was currently having. More than likely, it was a culmination of the tension that had been growing more taut between them and his unease with enclosed dark spaces.
“Well, I definitely like the progress they’re makin’,” RT said.
Brantley nodded. “I agree.”
They had come a long way in the six months they’d been training. It helped that Reese had a military background, having been in the Air Force. Baz was a former APD police detective and Charlie a former officer, so they had proper training from a law enforcement agency. Not counting the newbies, the only team member who was out in the field who didn’t have any formal training was Trey. He’d been a security guard, so his training was minimal, but he was proving he could do as good as, if not better than, the rest of them.
As for Evan and Slade, they would have their turn before the weekend was over, and Brantley would get his chance to see their baseline firsthand.
Brantley’s skill set—having been a Navy SEAL—was still above and beyond what the Sniper 1 Security team could provide, but he was utilizing the courses and the simulations to keep his mind and body sharp since he’d been forced into retirement after suffering a career-ending injury.
Brantley exhaled, looked out into the warehouse.
RT stepped up to his side. “Why don’t y’all lay off the simulation this weekend. Maybe try some team-building exercises that don’t require them to snake through container walls in the dark. Might help Reese’s mood.”
If they were lucky.
“Or better yet, don’t work at all. Gather the team, do somethin’ fun. Take a breather.”
A breather.
Unless that was referring to two minutes to collect his thoughts, Brantley didn’t even know what that was. But he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, and right now, he feared forcing this training might be doing more harm than good.
“I think we’ll do that,” he informed RT.
Baz stepped up to his side. “I’m gonna swing by the office and pick up JJ and Tesha and head back to the hotel.”
Brantley informed him of the new plan to leave tomorrow before Baz slipped out of the building.
When Trey strolled out from the maze of shipping containers, Brantley gave him a nod. “Mind if I catch a ride back with you?”
His brother looked confused for a second, glancing around as though searching for someone.
“Reese headed back already,” he explained.
Trey nodded. “I’ll be in the truck.”
Half an hour later, after saying his goodbyes to the Sniper 1 Security team, Brantley walked into the hotel room he was sharing with Reese. The digs weren’t fancy, but it certainly wasn’t the worst place he’d ever stayed. The rooms were clean, the furniture updated sometime in the last decade, plus they had a continental breakfast and a small bar that opened a few hours each night. Since it was cheap and convenient, they’d become frequent guests.
When he heard the shower running, Brantley set his phone down on the dresser and considered joining the man. He knew just how to relax Reese and a shower would be a bonus.
Brantley was tugging off his shirt when his cell phone buzzed. He tossed the shirt to the bed, then glanced down to read the text only to realize it wasn’t his phone that was making the noise.
Reese’s phone was plugged into the charger, the face lit up with a text message from—
Brantley’s chest squeezed when he saw Madison Adorite’s name on the screen.
He knew it was wrong to pry, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the phone and reading the message she’d sent: Tonight works for me. I’d love to have dinner with you. See you at seven.
What the fuck?
He set down the phone, looked at the closed bathroom door, took a deep breath, and willed the tightness in his chest to abate.
Before he could conjure up the energy to confront Reese about it, Brantley changed his mind. He grabbed his shirt, yanked it on over his head.
When he heard the shower turn off, he grabbed his cell phone and slipped out of the room. It was safe to say he needed that breather. Maybe he’d misread the message. Surely the man he lived with, the man he loved, was not going on a date with his ex-girlfriend. It had to be a mistake.
Please, God, let it be a fucking mistake.
Chapter Twenty-One
After drying his body and wrapping the towel securely around his hips, Reese grabbed a smaller one and ran it over his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the compact, single room. He glanced around, almost certain he’d heard Brantley come in.
No one was there.
Frowning, he walked over to his phone, glanced at the screen.