Suffocating dampness enveloped Sawyer as he descended into the sewers after Julia and Anna. The air was thick and cloying in his nostrils, rank with scent of rotting vegetable matter and another more acidic overtone he attributed to the hidden alien presence below.

“If I never see a sewer again, it will be too soon,” he complained, following the bobbing light of Hardy’s headlamp. Ahead of Hardy was Bailey. Neither he nor Hardy trusted the man to take the rear, and Hardy had insisted that Anna and Julia walked in the middle. No one had argued with Hardy’s knitted brows and ‘don’t shit with me expression’ as he’d outlined the team order.

Bailey prattled as they walked. The man didn’t have an off button. It was only a matter of time before Hardy gave him a warning punch in the mouth to shut the hell up. Sawyer looked forward to that. It might take his mind off all the other crap running through his head right now.

He tapped at the headset connected to his helmet. It crackled intermittently but provided contact with Garrick’s team approaching from the south. He wasn’t sure how long the radio would hold out as they descended further into the labyrinthine maze of tunnels, even though the two teams were moving toward each other. Sawyer calculated that they had about an hour of walking before each group was positioned for planting the charges to seal off and destroy the Chittrix nest.

Rank water had soaked through his boots and his socks rubbed on his heels. Had he done anything else apart from wade through dirty river water and sewage for the past week? He gripped his pulse rifle tighter. He just wanted to get this done and sorted, then he could get back to the base and get on with the business of avoiding Julia for the next ten years.

He sighed. How on earth did he find himself in these situations? First, he’d epically messed it up with Beth, screwing up her life and putting her brother away, and now he’d fucked it up with Julia too. He’d given it his all, and he’d fallen flat on his face. Said a lot about his skills in the romance department.

Anna turned around, her headlamp blinding him. Sawyer covered the light with his palm, his patience on a thin thread. “Anna, get that thing out my eyes.”

Anna twisted her head to the side. “Quit complaining. Have you noticed how weird the water is here?”

“Nope.” I’m trying not to notice anything. At all.

“Figures. Try looking down sometime. Here.” Anna dipped her hand into the water and cupped a handful, raising it up and letting it run through her fingers. It cascaded in oily rivulets, more like thick soup than water.

He swore softly. “The water’s full of crap. I hate to break it to you, but we’re walking through a sewer.”

Anna gave him a sideways look. “You shouldn’t let your love life interfere with work.”

Sawyer’s head snapped up so quickly pain shot from his ear to his collarbone. “Excuse me?”

Anna stopped dead, letting Julia trudge ahead out of earshot. “You heard. You gonna do anything about it?”

“Julia’s a grown woman. She can decide for herself what she wants.” He rolled his shoulders. “We don’t want the same thing anymore. End of.” His gaze drifted to Julia’s silhouette, a shady mirage in the rusty light of the headlights. She’d come to a standstill, craning to see what Anna and Sawyer were up to, then she called out for Hardy to wait.

Anna sighed, ignoring Sawyer’s disgruntled expression. “We’re good, Jules.” She waved and then returned her attention to Sawyer. “She’s just scared. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Sometimes, a person needs help to see what they have in a relationship.”

Sawyer braced himself against his rifle. He’d heard it all before. If only he could just persuade her, show her the error of her ways. He’d endured enough romantic films in his times to know how he was ‘supposed’ to behave. “She doesn’t want me, Anna. Or at least, not in any kind of romantic way.” He was the one who wanted more, when all along he’d said it wouldn’t be him. He’d been wrong. Really wrong.

“She doesn’t know that she needs you. There’s a difference. You’re better together than apart.”

Maybe.

“Well, it’s too late now. I’m not that guy. And stop giving me that frosty glare.”

Anna hissed in exasperation. “It’s only what you deserve. Julia’s complicated. She’s a workaholic, and she doesn’t know how to switch it off. You’re always going to have to push through that. I’d thought you were up for that, that you’d make the grade.”

“Make the grade?” Sawyer spat the words out. “It may have escaped your notice but she dumped me.”

Anna widened her eyes, dismissing his protestations with a bat of her lashes. Julia was doubling back, Hardy close on her heels. She’d be within earshot in less than a minute.

Anna was not going to be dissuaded. “She’s just freaked out. No one’s ever got to her like you have. Her feelings for you—it was easier to push you away than admit it. Now you have to ask yourself, are you going to let her be an idiot, or are you going to fight for her?”

Words formed on the tip of his tongue, but he was unable to speak. His feet were rubbed raw from friction against his wet socks. His shirt itched under his armor. Nothing was working out the way it was supposed to, and now Anna was rubbing salt in the wound.

“Sawyer?”

“I want to be with her Anna, but—”

She grinned and her teeth shone white in the grime of the tunnel. “That’s more like it. Fighting talk.” She slapped him on the back. “Speak to her. Get a move on, though. Foster keeps telling me we could all be dead soon.”

Jesus. “Anna—”

“What’s the holdup?” Julia drew level with them, Hardy at her side. Bailey sulked several feet behind, his face puckered and cross.

Julia’s gaze skittered from Sawyer like a startled deer. Jesus, she can’t even look me in the eye.

Anna was suddenly extremely interested in her rifle. “My safety is sticking.” She shouldered past Sawyer, leaving him face to face with Julia. An awkward silence descended.

“Anna was making scientific observations,” Sawyer explained, searching Julia’s face for answers, for any indication of what Anna had told him.

“Sawyer, I—”

Hardy butted in, his bulk filling the limited space between them. “We have a job to do. What’s with all the chitchat?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Sawyer shifted his backpack, it was rapidly becoming uncomfortable from the sheer weight of explosives. Excruciating pins and needles sprinkled across the small of his back as the blood returned in a whoosh. He didn’t want sympathy or explanations. He just wanted to go home.

Hardy grunted and wheeled around to chivvy Bailey.

Julia’s mouth snapped shut, and she sucked in her lower lip, teeth pressing into the soft flesh.

Hardy whistled, moving everyone on.

Sawyer indicated ahead. “We should move.”

She gave the tiniest nod, her expression flattening. “Yes, we have a job to do.” She half-turned and then swung around abruptly.

“Sawyer?”

“What?” he asked, unable to stop frustration from coloring his voice.

She flinched. “Nothing.”