With Luca and Nik safely ensconced in the infirmary, Ethan headed up the corridor, desperate to put as much distance between him and Becca as possible.

When she’d been in his arms, his stomach had somersaulted. Desire had rushed through him, making his gut clench, even though she was no longer his. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly. But it would’ve been taking advantage of her and the situation. Dangerous events changed people’s behavior. He of all people knew that and after all this time, his body and heart clamored for her to be in his arms for the right reason—because she wanted him. Not because she feared for her life.

She’d already made it clear she didn’t want or need him anymore. They were finished, and for Ethan, there could be no in-between. His heart couldn’t take it—closeness, without her being his. When they got out of here, he’d be gone. She didn’t need him messing up the life she’d worked so hard to build.

He stormed up the corridor and through Operations, ignoring the surprised look on Cade and Preacher’s faces, seeking solace. Space.

The hatch door smashed back on its hinges as he careened into the corridor that linked all the labs. The hatch sealed behind him, giving him privacy. He roared at the ceiling, his fists hard knots of emotion at his side. Desire and something deeper, the love he’d always felt for Becca, seared through him, draining him.

His head sagged, his chest heaving and arms shaking with a toxic mix of suppressed desire and frustration.

He opened his eyes. The door he was standing in front of bore a plaque. Dr. Becca Johnson.

Ethan glanced at the corridor entrance. The hatch window was dark and empty. No one had dared follow him.

He made the decision, hit the hatch lock and stepped into Becca’s office.

Lights clicked on in response to his movement. The office was small, lined with metal filing cabinets on his left next to a sink and hanging rail with a towel.

On his right was her desk.

Ethan touched the wood, ran his finger along the edge. The surface was tidy and neat. A computer monitor, an empty jam jar filled with Becca’s favorite sharpened pencils—yellow-and-black striped ones with a pink eraser on top. She’d always called them her bumblebee pencils. A smile touched the corner of his mouth and his pulse slowed a little. So much had changed between them but some things were still the same.

He removed a pencil from the pot and rolled it between his fingers before placing it in his top pocket.

He closed his eyes, willing the raging torment eating him up inside to ease. Ethan rapped his knuckles on the desk and leaned into the wood, drawing sustenance from its solidity. A sigh escaped him, and he opened his eyes once more. He should get back to the others. He’d had his moment to get himself back under control. Now there was work to do. A madman to capture and a base to evacuate.

He straightened his spine and turned to leave.

A familiar shape caught his eye and he stilled. Heat reignited in his blood.

On the desk, behind a neat stack of notebooks. A ceramic cat ornament. Black and white, it clutched a pink heart between fat white paws. The word ‘forever’ was painted on the heart. It had been broken once, and the head was glued on badly, giving the cat a mad, slightly crazed look.

He’d always been such a clumsy shit with delicate things, and the cat had been no exception. Ethan touched the cat’s ears with the tip of his fingers, not daring to breathe. He’d bought it for her birthday then broken it on the same day. He’d thrown it away.

And yet. Here it was.