James

Ben’s voice cuts through the static in my head, snapping me out of my thoughts. 

“Zeb, help Annelly pack.” He doesn’t wait for a response before turning to me. “You and I need to talk. Office. Now.”

My jaw tightens. “The hell we do—”

“Now, James.” His voice drops, low, clipped, and controlled in that way that makes it clear this isn’t a suggestion. 

It’s a command. 

One he knows damn well I’m in no mood to obey.

Beside me, Annelly tenses. Her fingers twitch against mine, a silent question in her eyes. And it’s that look—the trust and fear wrapped into one—that forces me to swallow down the fury rising in my throat. 

I lean in, press a kiss to her temple, and pull her in tight. 

“It’s okay, snowflake,” I murmur, trying to steady her. Though if I’m being honest, I’m saying it just as much for me as I am for her.

Zeb catches my eye. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly, stepping in. “I’ve got her.”

“Go on. Go with Zeb.” It takes everything in me to let her go. To step back and away from her like she’s not my entire goddamn world. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

I hesitate just a second longer. But because I can’t take the fear in her eyes—the way she’s looking at me like I’m both her anchor and her storm—I turn and follow Ben down the stairs. 

By the time I reach the bottom, my fists are clenched and my pulse is a war drum in my ears. The office feels colder than usual. The heater clicks off with a dull thunk, leaving behind a silence so thick it presses against my chest like a weight.

Ben doesn’t sit. He just stands there in the center of the room, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Like he’s giving me the chance to get my shit together before he lights the match.

I don’t take it.

Instead, I slam the door shut behind me, stalk halfway across the room, then stop. Because if I keep moving, I’ll start throwing fists at my boss. My friend. And that won’t fix a damn thing.

Suddenly exhausted, I brace both hands on the back of my leather desk chair and drop my head, breathing hard through my nose.

I already know what’s coming. 

He’s questioning my judgment. My ability to do my job. All because I challenged his asinine plan. Because I don’t trust the same bastards responsible for the hell we’ve been living through this past year.  

Ben doesn’t give me long to settle.

“You ready to act like a grown-up,” he says coolly, “or should I call Zeb in here to stroke your ego some more?”

I whip around, fists tightening. “Fuck you.”

His expression doesn’t change, remaining calm. 

Unflinching. 

That makes it worse.

“You think this is about my ego?” I step toward him, fury building with every word. “You think I give a shit about how I look right now? I’m trying to keep her safe, Ben. I’m trying to keep that bastard from getting anywhere near her.”

“Then you’re failing.”

The words hit like a sucker punch, but I don’t flinch. Not on the outside. But on the inside…

“You’re out of line,” I growl.

“No.” His voice stays maddeningly even. “I’m the only one in this goddamn house willing to say it to your face.”

“You want to tell me how to do my job now?” I snap. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it. Maybe you’d rather I hand her over to Dominick. Let that strait-laced fuckup keep her safe.”

Ben doesn’t even blink. “Maybe I should. You’re a huge liability right now.”

That stops me cold.

For half a beat, the air goes still. 

Silent.

Heavy. 

Dangerous.

Then I laugh—a sharp, bitter bark of disbelief. “You really believe I’d put her in danger?”

“You already are.” His voice lowers, most likely so Zeb and Annelly won’t hear. “Don’t you see? You questioning the plan in front of her? You planting seeds of doubt in her head?” 

He steps closer, jabbing a finger into my chest. “That’s you putting her in danger. Because if she doesn’t trust us—if she doesn’t trust our word when it matters most—she won’t stick to the plan. And if she doesn’t stick to the plan?” His voice sharpens. “You might as well call Victor now and tell him where to find her.”

I stare at him in disbelief, his words hitting like debris from a passing tornado. Scattered. Violent. Impossible to ignore.

“Snap the fuck out of it, James. Stop acting so damn panicked and get back to doing your goddamned job.”

Breathing hard, I take in his angry words. 

They land like an insult, just as I’m sure he meant them to. 

“You think this is panic, asshole?” My fists clench at my side, knuckles tingling with the urge to put him through the nearest wall. “Wrong. This is survival. Instinct. The feeling in my gut that’s never failed me. That’s kept me and Tyler alive and in one piece since we were kids.”

“But you’re not helpless children anymore.” Ben’s voice rises, not loud but firm. “And more than that, you’re not fucking alone. You have us, James. Your friends. OTS. You have us at your back, and you damn well know it. You know it in your gut that we would never, ever put you, Tyler, or Annelly in harm’s way.” He steps closer, jabbing a finger toward my temple. “So use your fucking head and think.” 

My chest heaves in uneven bursts. As much as I hate it, he’s right… at least about this. Though I have my doubts about the plan, I do trust him. I trust in the team.

“You’re right,” I mutter. “I know I can trust you. I just…” The words catch in my throat. “I’m at a loss here, man. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”

I drag a shaky breath, like I can pull myself back together through sheer force of will. But it’s useless. The pressure inside me is too much. It’s pushing in from all sides, crushing me from the inside out.

“She’s scared,” I say, quieter now. Almost to myself. “She’s fucking terrified. And every time she looks at me with that fear in her eyes, I can’t—” My voice breaks. I swallow hard. “What if you’re right? What if I fail her? What if I can’t keep them safe?”

The words just hang there. Small. Fragile. Awful yet true.

Ben doesn’t move. He just watches me, letting the silence strip me down.

I sink heavily into my desk chair and bury my face in my hands. “I just… I can’t think straight, man. Not when she’s scared. Not when I know he’s out there—watching. Waiting for his chance. Getting closer with every second.” My voice thins, almost breaking. “And I don’t know what to do with that. I can’t breathe with that weight pressing on my chest.”

Still, Ben says nothing.

So I look up. 

Meet his eyes.

“I’m in love with her,” I whisper. “And the idea of losing her—it’s killing me. Almost as bad as the thought of never having her. Of her never giving me a chance. And all this… this chaos rattling around in my head—it’s turning me into someone I swore I’d never be again.”

The confession rips through my chest, sharp and choking.

“I’ve spent my whole life fighting to be strong. Controlling the variables. Locking shit down. Staying three steps ahead of every threat.” I laugh, bitter and broken. “But she—she’s not a threat. She’s…” My voice catches. “She’s a goddamn variable I didn’t account for. One I didn’t want or need. And now I can’t even think straight long enough to do what needs to be done. To keep her safe.” The shame hits low and deep. “What kind of protector does that make me?”

Ben finally moves. 

He steps closer and drops into the chair beside my desk. From the corner of my eye, I see the shift in him. Less edge. Less judgment. He’s seeing me now for exactly what I am.

A man breaking apart at the seams. Too scared to know how to hold all the pieces together.

He lets out a breath, rough and quiet. And then finally he says, “You’re in love with her.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t bother to respond. But the tension in my jaw says enough.

“Then fucking act like it.”

My head jerks up.

“Love isn’t this—” he gestures at me. “This panic. This cycling in and out of control. You’re not helping her like this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I snap, but it comes out weak. Hollow. I’m a fucking mess, and we both know it.

“Then get a grip, James. Because love—it’s not fear. It’s focus. It’s choosing trust when everything in you screams not to. It’s knowing she’s counting on you to keep your head when hers is barely above water.”

The words hit hard and land exactly where they’re meant to. Right in the center of the ache I’ve been carrying like a second heartbeat.

“You want to keep her safe?” he asks, leaning in, voice dropping an octave. “Then pull your head out of your ass and get back in the fight. Stand with us. With your team. And let’s finish this.”

I stay quiet for a long moment. Not because I’ve got nothing to say—God knows, my head’s still a goddamn war zone—but because I need to breathe. 

Let it all sink in. 

Let the dust settle.

I inhale slowly. Then again. And for the first time since those flowers showed up on my doorstep, something inside me clicks back into place. Not everything. I’m still a wreck. But it’s enough.

Enough that I can finally think straight. 

Enough to pull my focus back where it needs to be.

Enough to fill my lungs with air that doesn’t feel like it’s suffocating me.

I rise from my chair and meet Ben’s gaze. “You’re right. I’m good. I’m in.”

Ben studies me for a beat longer, then gives a quick nod. “No more solo hero bullshit.”

I lift a brow, doing my best to act like the adult here and not roll my eyes.

“Say it, James. No more what?” He presses with a smirk. 

Asshole knows exactly what he’s doing—lightening the moment by being an annoying little shit.

And damn, it’s working.

“No more solo hero bullshit. There. You happy now?”

“Yep.” His lips curve into a genuine smile as he claps me on the shoulder. “We do this together. You, me, Zeb. The whole damn team. That’s how we beat that bastard. That’s how we keep your girl safe.”

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