TJ gave his name to the guard at the gate. After several minutes, he was allowed entry. His thoughts jumbled, he parked the car and walked up the steps. The door knocker echoed through the seemingly empty house. He heard the faint tap of heels approaching through the foyer and thought of Alyssa.

He exhaled a steadying breath, not unlike the cleansing breaths he took as he would lie in wait for his enemy. On a rooftop. Sun sinking low on the endless horizon. His body still. His breathing shallow. Calm descending before the unsavory task that awaited. When the door opened, he was ready.

"Major O'Brien? What are you doing here?"

"Mrs. Robbins . . . may I come in?" TJ acknowledged her bewildered expression. It only lasted for the moment it took for her to open the door wider.

"I-- I'm in the middle of something-"

"I won't keep you, ma'am." Standing in the foyer, he watched the slow transition in her demeanor. "We need to talk."

"Of course. Come to the study." Her expression one of surprise, her eyes held a guarded quality he'd seen too many times before. "I heard you found the photographs. That's spectacular news."

"Yes, ma'am. We informed the mayor about it two days ago."

"What questions did you have? Shouldn't Theo be here?"

"Mrs. Robbins-- I think you know why I'm here."

Twin patches of blush stood out in unnaturally pale cheeks. "What's this about-"

"Ma'am-- I know what you did." Normally, TJ might have more patience for the wife of a government official, but this one-- had hurt Alyssa. "I just don't know the reason."

"I think you should leave." Jerking away from him, she picked up the phone.

"Cryptanalysis is typically used for breaking codes," he said conversationally. "But, as you can probably imagine, we use it often in the service branches."

"Can we speed this up, Mr. O'Brien? I have appointments-" She clutched the phone receiver, her knuckles showing white. "While my husband is fascinated by all things military, I don't claim to hold the same interest."

"The passwords, Mrs. Robbins-" Uninvited, TJ sat on the arm of the leather chair. Maggie had obviously rationalized her behavior-- convincing herself she had good reason for planting the blackmail photos on the server. Maybe she didn't want her husband to run for governor. But he couldn't excuse, nor forgive the torment she'd caused Alyssa. For that, he wanted-

"Our hacker would've eventually found the trace back to your laptop." He waited for her to deny it. "Then we would have speculated about your ability with graphics. With photographs. Your PR business."

Her sigh was an attempt at exasperation. "Where are you going with this?"

He heard the note of fear. "Before we got to any of that . . . your passwords gave you away."

"My passwords?" Her smile forced, she dug in. "Tell me, Major, where did the files originate? Where in Theo's office-"

"You uploaded the photos from Alyssa's office."

"You mean Alyssa uploaded those photos." Her fingers sliding along her string of pearls, Maggie smiled, regaining her poise. Several minutes into her lie-- it became easier to sustain. If the person didn't crumble, they gained strength. "Isn't she in enough trouble? She's going to be fired-- and now you're trying to protect her."

"Your passwords, Mrs. Robbins," he corrected, ice forming in his stomach as his thoughts drifted to Alyssa-- her smile. Her giving nature. The sunny confidence that was slowly invading his soul. That Maggie Robbins could demonstrate such cruel indifference to the devotion Alyssa had exhausted on her husband-- made him want revenge.

Suddenly irritated by being forced to waste more time on this selfish woman, he rose. "You created the photos-- probably at your PR firm . . . where you've been forced to abandon the career you loved-"

"That's ridiculous," she cut him off.

"Then you password protected them with your kids' names?" He shot her a derisive glance. "Seriously? Bridget and Michael spelled backwards? You couldn't think of something more challenging?"

"You need to leave." Her tight smile didn't match the panic in her eyes.

"No-- you need to listen." He made his way to the door. "I'm here as a courtesy. I'll give you one day." He paused, watching her throat work as her panic rose. She wouldn't go down without a fight. "If you don't tell the mayor, I'll tell him for you."

"Wait."

His hand on the door, TJ paused, wondering why he wasn't even remotely interested in her excuse.

"Bridget was kidnapped . . . several years ago." Her voice had gone hoarse in the still library. "After that-- Theo s-said . . . Theo promised he would-- finish this term and-" Her voice breaking, she collapsed into the leather chair he'd vacated. "Why would anyone risk that again? His children."

Maggie quietly sobbed into her hands. "He's a lawyer," she sniffed. "A war hero. Why can't he just settle? Why can't he just be a normal guy? A husband. A father."

TJ suddenly straightened. Not wasting a glance at her, he walked to the bookshelves. A war hero. He picked up the photograph of the four men whose lives had been shaped by the Ready Brigade. Some, whose lives may have been altered by it. Altered by the choices they'd made. As TJ had been altered by his choices. He studied it for several seconds before moving to the door. "Tell him, Mrs. Robbins. Or I will."

* * *

Another night around the dining room table. That evening, Alyssa absorbed the animated conversations going on around her, trying to memorize the picture for later. The warm glow of a crystal chandelier overhead, plates pushed to the middle of the table, Teagan snagging a last piece of bread from the basket. Wine glasses being refilled by her mother. Madeline's idea of a perfect evening was lingering around the table with as many people as she could squeeze in. Simultaneously, she peppered Teagan and MaryJo with questions about Mrs. Robbins, while entertaining baby TJ in his high chair.

"I still can't believe Maggie would do that." Madeline shook her head. "Alyssa has worked so hard for him-"

"Maybe she resented you helping him get re-elected." Teagan glanced at her, seeming to notice she was suspiciously quiet.

"I feel bad for Theo." Alyssa wasn't sure what to feel. Relief-- that one bad thing was finally over. Awkwardness for Theo. She avoided thinking about how tomorrow would play out-- once her boss heard Maggie's confession. And guilt-- because the blackmail situation created an opportunity. For her. One she planned to seize. To finally walk in Theo's office and hand in her resignation. While he still felt terrible over his wife's actions. She could make a clean break-- and still gain Theo's support for her jobs program. With the backing of the mayor's office, she'd gain avenues of potential funding that might not have been available if he'd been angry about her departure. The timing was perfect.

"What did you learn in Cambridge?" Relieved to turn the attention away from her, she sensed Teagan's gaze on her-- as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Two witnesses claim they saw a man loitering in the area. Alone." Sean leaned back in his chair. "Non-descript clothing, but neat. Middle-aged. Dark hair. Dark beard."

"Did they pull security footage from the area?" MaryJo set her fork down, her eyes flaring with interest.

Her father nodded. "They've got three different angles on the area in front of the bar. None from the actual murder scene, which took place in an alley two blocks away." He sipped his beer. "Then there are two more sightings of him on side streets thirty minutes later."

"TJ, you're the only one who's seen him. Could you recognize him?"

"Howard saw him, too," Madeline remembered. "Last night."

Alyssa felt his intensity from across the table. Teagan stared at the wall, his brain processing memories. Unlike everyone else at the table, he didn't reveal excitement. Nor hope. He wouldn't speak until he was certain of his answer. "Possibly. I've only seen him in the dark."

MaryJo glanced around the table. "We could try something-- if you have access to that film."

"TJ's ID won't hold up. He didn't witness an actual crime." Mullaney thumped down in his chair.

"I know, Dad."

Alyssa hid her smile. She often wondered what it had been like for Mariela, growing up with a man as tough as Sean.

Her laptop never far away, MaryJo pulled it from her backpack on the floor. "While I've been messing around at City Hall, I noticed on the Mayor's website there's a page about his military career."

Alyssa caught her breath. "Pictures. There are lots of pictures."

MaryJo nodded. "Obviously, we can't ask Theo for the picture in his library, but I was wondering if that one had made it to the website. . ."

"What will that accomplish?" Sean had leaned forward, elbows on the table.

MaryJo's smile was hopeful. "This is a long shot, but I've been playing around with this new facial recognition software-"

Teagan whistled. "Can you do that? Compare a really old picture to the footage?" He nodded to Mullaney.

Eyes bright behind her glasses, she shrugged. "I can try. I'm not super talented with this."

Alyssa grinned. "Says the girl who just solved the blackmail case on a hunch."

"Dad-- send me the video." She was already typing rapidly.

Mullaney went down the hall to his office. Several minutes later, he returned. "It's coming." He positioned himself over her shoulder, his wiry body suddenly crackling with energy. "If you're right about this, Cambridge can use the mayor's army photo to place Doucette at George's murder."

"Well, yeah." She paused. "But-- here's the thing. I'm having trouble finding Henry Doucette."

"Because it's Harry," he interrupted.

Alyssa smothered her laughter when MaryJo rolled her eyes. "I ran a scan of Harry this afternoon-- still no luck."

"How is that possible?" Madeline returned from the kitchen with baby TJ's bottle.

"He's off the grid," she answered. "I found him in Ohio. Born in Canton, military for eight years." She glanced up. "Harry Doucette matches to the records of the 82nd Airborne. But after the war-- he basically disappears."

"He's got a new name." Mullaney sighed. "Even if you can match him to the murder scene, we won't know how to find him."

"We had him last night," Teagan muttered, frustration evident.

As conversations took off in several directions, Alyssa watched her friend. Her determined face like a map, all you had to do was read it. "Could you find a face without a name?'

"That'll take forever, won't it?" Surprising her, Teagan took the seat next to her, capturing her hand under the table. Only eighteen days left. Alyssa was torn between wanting to lean against him and wanting to keep her distance.

MaryJo stilled. "Not if we narrow it down. We know he's in Boston."

"Can you bust into the registry of motor vehicles?" Mullaney rounded the table. "He ain't been takin' cabs the last twenty years."

She grinned. "No sweat."

* * *

TJ's pulse ricocheted as he stared into the face of the bearded guy. "That's him."

"Harry Douquette," Mullaney read over MaryJo's shoulder. "One letter off. Not bad," he admired. "Easy to remember. Easy to respond to."

"And he lives in Brookline." TJ glanced up, grateful Maddie was in the kitchen, water running in the sink. If she decided to meddle now-- it could be dangerous. "That's a subway ride from Cambridge-- and my place." His stomach knotted over the implications. He had the sudden, sick need to find Alyssa-- make sure she was safe. "This bastard is a murderer."

Douquette wasn't just recon. He was awaiting orders. When they were issued, he'd have zero reservations over hurting Lyss. He pinned Mullaney with his stare. "Until he's caught-- I want-" He lowered his voice, the blood rushing in his ears. "She can't be alone."

"Son, I've had someone on her the last week. No one's gettin' near her."

He closed his eyes. Jaw clenched, he nodded. "I need to-"

"She's in the living room, TJ." MaryJo's knowing gaze met his. "Feeding the baby."

Changing his mind, he headed for the bathroom, knowing he needed a better grip on himself before he sat down with Alyssa to tell her about the murderer on her trail. After splashing water on his face, he released several cleansing breaths and opened the door.

From the hallway, he watched her. A peaceful smile on her face, cooing at her nephew. His gut twisted for an entirely different reason. Jesus-- he wanted her. Suddenly lightheaded, he leaned against the archway, praying no one was watching too close. He wanted-- this. He wanted to stay. Here in Boston. He wanted to forget the last decade. Where he'd been. The things he'd seen. He wanted to wipe the slate clean and start over. He wanted-- all of it.

Heart pounding, he chose the far end of the couch. Lyss probably wouldn' t be able to see his expression from his angle. "Is he asleep?"

"Almost," she whispered. As she met his gaze, the baby released a soft, fitful whimper, his tiny fist clutching her finger.

A fierce longing flashed in her eyes-- before she was able to shutter it. In that moment, TJ felt her pain as though it were his own. "I can put him down for you."

Glancing away, she nodded. "What's going on in there?"

"I'll fill you in when I get back."

* * *

More weary than she ever imagined possible, Alyssa trudged into the apartment an hour later. She'd been on the verge of tears all evening. Surprisingly, it had little to do with stalkers. Or Maggie Robbins. Or the secret thrill over a new job. Instead-- she'd been taken out at the knees-- by the man walking beside her.

"I didn't know you could fly helicopters." At the dinner table, she'd swallowed her amazement while he and Sean had debated the merits of Hueys over Black Hawks.

"Some of them." Teagan bolted the door. After texting Howard they were safely inside, he followed her to the kitchen. "I haven't been trained on all of them."

Afraid of the emotion churning through her, Alyssa avoided his gaze. "You never mentioned it." Teagan was willing to give up his vacation. He was willing to protect her. Fight for her. He'd jump at the chance to sleep with her. But, he would never actually confide in her. Never mind secrets-- he guarded even the most basic information.

"Choppers don’t typically come up in general conversation."

How could someone so talented be so obtuse? Teagan didn't need to brag. Wouldn't brag. Instead, he employed the opposite extreme. Dismissing his abilities. But it wasn't humility keeping him closed off. It was isolation. Even now. Even from her. "I think it's pretty incredible."

"I save feats of strength and dexterity to finagle women into bed." His rueful smile was now achingly familiar.

"You never told me," she reminded, ignoring the I-told-you-so stab of pain in her chest. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Alyssa had stupidly, doggedly plowed ahead, making assumptions. Making plans.

"I was saving it for later." The glint in his eyes teased, but the truth behind his words shone through.

Why had she believed he'd change? He'd made no promises. Teagan had assured her he was incapable of them. She'd been foolish-- keeping the door cracked open to wishful thinking. In the unlikely event Teagan might stumble over the threshold. Now-- or two weeks from now-- nothing would change. The ache in her heart was entirely her fault.

Teagan flopped down on the couch. "Are you okay?"

Steeling herself to his knowing gaze, she forced a smile. "I'm good."

He tipped her chin up. "Are you sure? So much has happened. You look . . . sad."

Heart in her throat, Alyssa held her breath. Praying he wouldn't see the resolution in her eyes. Praying he wouldn't read her intentions. She wanted one more night. One last, beautiful, amazing night. No accusations. No arguments. No wishful thinking about how she'd hoped things would turn out. Tomorrow, she'd move back to her apartment. After ten days in his company, her heart was on the verge of breaking. She couldn't endure any more. "I'm just tired."

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he smiled down at her. "Well, let's get you to bed. A few days and everything will go back to normal."

Normal? Swallowing around the knot of misery lodged in her throat, she closed her eyes. In the bedroom, he undressed her slowly. Gently. Kissing her tenderly. Surrendering herself to sensation, Alyssa silently corrected him. One more day.

* * *

Maybe she should wait. Frazzled by the commotion in the mayor's office the next day, Alyssa changed her mind a hundred times. "I'm not sure I can handle Teagan, too." By ten am, she'd already met with the mayor. Embarrassed over Maggie's plot, Theo's eyes held remorse as he'd tried to explain his wife's actions.

Enduring the endlessly awkward conversation had been grueling. Then-- she'd compounded it by submitting her resignation. After another twenty minutes of contrite- and- regretful Theo, Alyssa stumbled back to her office. Grateful to sink down in her chair, she closed her eyes.

A moment later, her phone buzzed. "Hey, Donna." She prayed Theo would sit on the resignation news for a few days. The thought of having to explain herself was too exhausting to contemplate.

"You've got a call." Donna hesitated. "I wanted to check with you first. It's Paul."

She suppressed a groan. Not. Another. Thing. "I'm not here." Whatever photo-op, press-release, joint-statement, stupid announcement he wanted from the mayor to give his freshman congressman a boost-- would wait. "Tell him . . . tomorrow," she relented.

Just for today-- McQuinn could wait. Weasel Paul could wait. Theo's homeless initiative would wait. Even Teagan would wait. Glancing around her office, she contemplated shoving everything from the top of her desk. She needed a massage. A facial. "A vacation."

* * *

Alyssa's courage returned that evening. Since Teagan's IT job had officially ended with Maggie's confession, he waited for her in the marble lobby. By seven, the cavernous lobby was all but deserted. Heart in her throat, she crossed to the picture windows where he waited.

His smile vanished as he watched her approach. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk."

"Lyss-- what's this about?" Teagan looked beyond her shoulder. "Is this about Harry? Have you been threatened-"

"T-- I'm fine." Taking his hand, she guided him to a couch near the window. "I can't do this anymore."

"It's almost over. We'll have them-" He stiffened, suddenly understanding her meaning. "You mean . . . us."

"Last night-- you didn't get why I was surprised about the helicopters."

He scowled. "What's the big deal? I can fly a helicopter."

"It's not the flying." She released a shuddering breath. "It's-- you don't talk about it. You don't talk about anything."

His expression shuttered. "I’m well-trained, that’s all."

"Acknowledging you’re great at something-- it bothers you." His wintry eyes suggested she was wandering too close to his secrets.

His glance was stoic. "I'm not bothered."

"I think you are," she countered. Since their relationship-- if it could be called that-- was about to blow up in her face, she threw caution aside. "You could take all that training and apply it to a job that makes you proud."

"I am proud of my job."

"Yet, you never talk about it." His indifference sent icy shards of warning down her spine. She could stop now. Walk away, her brain urged. Gain clearance from the pending explosion. "Because it’s ugly?"

"It’s classified." His voice issued a challenge. "War is ugly."

"Changing careers . . . could make a difference." Finally, she would do something for herself-- no longer caring whether the time was right. Teagan could do the same. Start over. A new life. A new line of work that didn't snuff out his soul. "What about drug enforcement? You could talk to Finn-"

"Don’t go there," he warned, his voice chilling several degrees.

She refused to back down this time. Someone needed to get through to him. His aunt had likely tried. If Teagan would ever forgive himself- She steadied herself. The worst he could do was cut her down. "Fine, talk to Matt."

"Drug enforcement isn't a cake walk, Lyss."

"The Coast Guard," she countered. "Get your thrills chasing drug runners." Despite the warning flares igniting in his eyes, she continued. "Occasionally, you can . . . rescue people."

"I know this jobs thing is a big deal-- and I'm happy for you." Jaw clenched, he looked away. "But, I'd appreciate you not practicing on me."

"What about counter-terrorism-" His mutinous expression made him want to beat her fists against his chest. "You earned all those medals-"

"Don't-" He extended his hand, commanding her to stop. "Don't glorify that," he warned, his voice measured to keep from shouting. "Each one represents . . . a nightmare. A day when other guys-- great guys-- didn't make it back. I can't look at them without feeling . . . disgust." A shudder rolled through him. "They signify luck, Alyssa. Not skill. Not bravery-- at least not for me." He fisted his hand. "I was in the less-wrong-place. And I happened to survive."

"I'm sorry." Her heart breaking, Alyssa swallowed back tears. "I just-- I want . . . I want you to be happy."

"You want?" His laugh was deliberately mocking. "Babe, I can take care of myself."

She dropped her gaze, unable to face his defiant anger. The tiny balloon of hope slowly deflated. "It’s easier to believe there’s nothing else out there." Her shoulders ached with the effort to appear confident. "It's easier not making changes. Not searching for something that could make you happy," she argued. "Because it’s safe."

He snorted. "My job is a lot of things-- but safe isn’t one of them."

Ignoring his sarcasm, Alyssa remained stoic, her chest slowly icing over. "You know what I mean. Safer than searching for something you may never find."

"I don't need a lecture about my job." He stabbed a hand through his hair."About it not being good enough."

"Not good enough?" She wanted to shove him "Anything you do is good enough for me."

"Lyss, save your pep talk for one of those lost souls you're so interested in helping. I’m not worth saving."

"You are. I know you are." Despite his words, Teagan couldn't hide the torment in his eyes."T-- I love you," she whispered. "I've always loved you."

"You-" He released a tortured breath. "I'm not worth it."

As her brain analyzed the stupidity of revealing her feelings, her heart twisted. He wanted . . . so much. But-- he would never allow himself to have anything.

"All this talk about a new career. . . that’s for my benefit?"

"Maybe it benefits us."

His eyes anguished, he shook his head. "Babe-- I can't- There's no . . . us."

The dagger struck her heart, exactly where he’d aimed. The chill traveled all the way to the pit of her stomach. "Right-- I forgot."

"Lyss-- after this op, I’m gone." His fingers clenched in a restless fist. "If I happen to be on this side of the world-- we might bump into each other." His smile mocked. "You-- with some poor guy and that damned rugby team of kids you’re hell-bent on."

"And you with an assault rifle slung over your shoulder?" Alyssa swallowed around the burn of tears. "A bimbo on the other arm?"

Anguish flared in his eyes-- a raw instant of vulnerability. In that blinding moment, she witnessed a grieving nine-year-old-- still waiting on the porch for a mother who would never return.

Teagan shuttered his expression, the rock hard, no-care-in-the-world soldier back on display. "Sounds about right."

"I get it now." A hollowness stole over her, protecting her. Detaching her from the ache of futility. As though she'd awakened during surgery. Her soul hovering above them, oblivious to the pain being inflicted below. "You just . . . don't want me."

"Don't want you?"

She jumped when his angry voice echoed through the empty lobby.

"I go into ugly situations and I get the job done-" He lowered his voice. "Do you understand? I blow up villages . . . because at that moment," he said scathingly, "they're our enemy. He shook his head, his laugh toneless. "All under the banner of protecting people like you. Hell, I’m a hero." He thumped his chest. "Do I still look like a great guy now? Like the perfect father to those kids?" His eyes sparked with self-loathing. "What I am is . . . a good time. Hell, I’ll admit it. We’re incredible together. Is that what you wanna hear? That I've never been able to forget you? That I love taking you to bed? That I . . ."

His harsh words reverberated off the marble hall, the strength of his fury seeming to dissipate. "Fine, Lyss-- wait around your whole life. When I get my r & r-- if I’m not shot up too bad, I’ll come back for a visit."

Hands trembling, she pressed them to his chest, as though her touch might somehow reach him. "Don't do this."

He stared down at her, using his height to challenge her. "We'll spend fifteen days in bed, and then I’ll leave you again. Does that sound like something you’re interested in?"

"You said y-you wanted something different," she whispered. "You said that was the reason you came all the way back h-home."

"It’s too late," he admitted. "I’m accepting my limitations."

"It’s never too late." Her anger flashed over. "Why would you sign on for four more years of hell-"

"That's why you're changing the rules?" His voice grew deadly quiet. "Because I'm not sure what I want?"

Nice evasive maneuver, she congratulated. Stillness descended over her, a modicum of control falling into place. Preparing her for the fallout. "How I feel-- that's what changed," she admitted, hating when her voice broke.

It was funny what love did to a person. Standing before the unyielding, implacable soldier, her heart breaking . . . Alyssa still found a smile. "I never told you this . . . but all those years ago-- when you walked up to me at that party-"

"What about it?" His voice wooden, the words were dragged from him. Yet his expression told her he couldn't not ask. His soul at war with his brain. Clinging to an old standby. His desire to feel nothing.

"That semester felt magical." She dropped her gaze, unwilling to risk seeing him smirk when she laid herself bare. "Every time I turned around, you were somehow-- there," she whispered. "I didn't even know your name." She swallowed around the pain in her throat. "The library. The campus center. What were the odds?" A lone tear managed to squeeze past the sentries. "Then you walk up to me at a party. Like it was-- fate."

He was quiet for so long, she assumed he'd been stunned into silence. "The campus wasn't that big, Lyss."

"Fine-- it's silly," she dismissed, rousing from the memory. "But I liked that it felt that way."

"Probably a coincidence." His voice had gone hoarse but Alyssa couldn't summon the energy to wonder why.

"Please don't ruin it," she begged. Maybe she was a fool for trying to make him feel something he was so clearly incapable of. But-- he had no right to make her feel small. "You have the power to hurt me," she confessed, hating the uncertainty in her voice. But Alyssa knew with blinding certainty she had to be the one-- to risk everything.

"You'll walk away just like ten years ago. Like you’ve walked away a hundred times before. And apparently-- you’ll be fine." Anger building, she stared at him. Since his return, she'd tossed aside all the hard-earned lessons of the past. Again, she stood on the precipice. Another man deciding she wasn't good enough. Another man deciding to leave.

"What do you know about me?" The intensity of his voice vibrated through her like a tuning fork. "Your whole life-- you’ve lived in a vacuum. Great family. A rich father who adored you. A mother who cheered you on. Who's proud of everything you do. Who celebrated every accomplishment." He stared at her. "Look at me," he commanded. "A lazy, worthless drunk for a father-- who left when I was five." His breathing was ragged with fury. "And a weak, selfish bitch who abandoned me on a doorstep." His jaw clenched, he looked away. "I came from nothing-- I am nothing. But you-- you’re so afraid of success, you’re walking away from it."

Heartsick over his confession, Alyssa felt bitterness lodge in her chest. The need to correct him. To justify her decision. But the anguish in his eyes snuffed out her anger. "You're right. I may completely flop. . . but at least I’ll know I tried."

The expression on his face was enough to terrify her, but if she didn’t finish this-- she would regret it. Because once their conversation ended, she’d never see him again. He’d make damn sure of that.

"Being halfway around the world is an easy excuse for keeping yourself isolated. You were abandoned-- but Louise took you in. She loves you, yet you allow her to suffer."

He grew deathly still, his face draining of what little color remained. His eyes haunted by her words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You deliberately stay away. I'm sure you feel brave and tough and hard. And you delude yourself into thinking everyone’s better off." Her throat ached with unshed tears for him-- and herself. "But all you really are-- is cruel."

"I was a burden."

His truth echoed in her ears. "You’ve never allowed yourself to get attached to anyone-- not Louise, not your brothers. Because they might dump you, too, right?"

His angry smirk sent a shiver through her. "I'm not listening to this."

"You isolate yourself from them because you never felt good enough. Your argument with Finn is about you-- not him."

"Babe, this therapy shit might work in your support group, but I’m not interested."

His words sliced through her. But it was a strength borne of desperation that forced her to continue. Teagan needed to hear this from someone. It may as well be her who fell on the grenade.

"Your secret fear has come true. You’ve cast aside everyone who ever mattered to you." The dam around her heart finally broke, a crashing wave of pain roaring over the sides. For once, she didn’t fight it, allowing the warm river to spill down her cheeks. "I’m going to tell you something," she choked out, "you’ve probably never heard."

"What's that?" Two syllables-- laden with misery.

Grateful for her blurry eyes, Alyssa's crushed heart began softening at the agonized rasp. "I’m so disappointed in you."

Her heels echoing on the marble tile, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Pushing through the heavy, oaken door, she didn't look back at the tortured man she left behind.

* * *

By tomorrow, he could be gone. TJ repeated the oath on the drive across town. The pounding tension behind his eyes had left him with a monster headache-- one that would only be vanquished by several shots of guilt-numbing alcohol. With any luck, he could finish tomorrow. Phone the mayor. Run down leads for Mullaney-- without having to see him. They'd already eliminated the budget guy. That left Theo, Luther and the congressman.

According to Sean, the cops were picking Harry up tomorrow. That meant Alyssa would be safe. Until then, she had a tail. After dumping him an hour ago, he'd at least remembered to call Mullaney to inform him he wasn't with Alyssa.

"She's at her place." Mullaney's gravelly voice confirmed his suspicion. "You sure you can't work this out? Things are heatin' up."

"Pretty damn sure." TJ resisted the urge to swerve into the guardrail. Lyss had made it clear she didn't want him anymore. Except for the part about loving him. The acceptance he'd seen in her eyes. The conviction he hadn't wanted to believe. Even now-- it sat there, the weight of her words crowding his chest. Whispering in his ear. The damned stupid hope. The want. The need. The what if? A shudder rolled through him. Each time he rejected them, they bounced back.

By this time tomorrow, he could be at the base, where he’d catch a flight back to Germany. But, right now-- his gut in a knot-- he just wanted to get home. He wanted to sit in his darkened apartment and drink from the bottle of Jack. Until he could no longer see Alyssa's haunted eyes. Until he couldn't hear her words. If he was lucky, he might eventually be able to forget the things she’d said. But no amount of whiskey would provide the oblivion he'd need to forget the pity in her eyes.

He checked his rearview mirror and switched lanes, his brain still functioning despite the stabbing pain in his chest. Maybe he wasn't a robot. He'd drifted through life trying not to feel anything. Now-- the demons unleashed-- they cascaded from him. Rage. Pain. Sorrow. Remorse. Like a damned tsunami he couldn't outrun. Alyssa's words pummeling him. Raining down on him like blows. He'd showed up to a firefight with no weapon. And she'd kicked the shit out of him.

She'd spoken from her heart. No caution. No holding back. And still-- he couldn't be honest. About anything. The life-altering, from-a-dream night a decade earlier. He'd lost his heart to the one woman he was never supposed to have. "Not that you've ever deserved her," he mocked. He'd been broken and fixed too many times to hold any value. Like a shattered vase-- the glue could only hide so many cracks. People like him needed to stay on a high shelf. Gathering dust until they were eventually forgotten.

But-- hell if he hadn't wanted her. That summer, his life had boiled down to a series of 'ifs'. If he hadn't been so screwed up. If he'd been worthy of her. If he'd met Lyss sooner- "I could've said 'screw you' to the Army." He sighed. "Except for the court-martial." Hell-- he would've risked his friendship with Matt. He would have convinced Matt that he'd do whatever it took to keep the beautiful, sunny girl he didn't deserve.

Now-- all he could do was finish the op. Salvaging his relationship with Alyssa was beyond hope. He’d treated her cruelly. He’d dismissed her concerns for him. Insulted her dreams. Because she’d hit too close. Because she could read him-- like no one else ever had. Alyssa's blunt, to-the-point style—one of the things he liked best about her, had been his undoing.

"Focus on the mission. Abandon the rest." At least then, he could leave with the knowledge he’d kept his word. He’d finally square it with Matt-- even if his friend never knew. Helping Alyssa made them even.

Without knowing how he got there, Teagan pulled into the familiar driveway. A wave of anxiety sweeping him, he froze. Sitting there behind the wheel, afraid to move. Afraid to acknowledge the tiny spark of hope. Prying his hands from the wheel, he left the car. Heart pounding like a locomotive, he climbed the cracked, concrete steps, pausing on the porch to drink in the riot of petunias and zinnias and ivy cascading from their pots. Purple morning glory climbed the faded shutters, their vibrancy muting the peeling paint. Heart in his throat, he raised his hand and knocked. When the door opened, he released a steadying breath. The woman framed in the doorway had aged. But the smile wreathing her startled face was timeless.

"TJ? Oh my lord- Is it really you? Oh my lord-- TJ."

He caught her in his arms when she leaped into them, relief flowing from every cell in his body as she rained kisses all over his face. "Mama Lou? I'm home."

* * *

"I can handle it." Douquette resisted the urge to hurl his phone at the wall. One friggin' mistake and all of a sudden he was expendable? "You're not cut out for this," he warned. "I'm the one who does the heavy lifting, remember? You just look down your nose and issue orders."

"You screwed this up, Harry." The clinical voice sent a spike of rage down his spine. "Now, I'll have to step in and take care of it for you."

"You'll leave a mess. It's not as easy as it looks." Harry flicked a glance at Idiot. "You fuck this up and we'll all go down."

The other man chuckled. "Sometimes, Harry, it's a brain that's required. A little charm. A nice suit," he deadpanned. "You wouldn't get past the damned doorman."