What it would do to his future with Emma.
Sadiq moved faster. The others continued their backward motion, yelling at the man to stop.
He didn’t stop. But Trace did.
Praying he wasn’t about to let them and Emma down, he lifted his weapon and took aim.
“Winters, what the hell are you—?”
Sadiq finally stopped walking. His eyes locked with Trace’s, his cold stare feeling as though it was trying to reach into his very soul.
Trace pulled his trigger, then watched as the man who’d terrorized them for the last time fell lifeless onto the grass.
For a full thirty seconds, no one said a word. Then...
“Nice shot.” Trevor walked past, his gun still trained on Sadiq.
With a hand gripping Trace’s shoulder, Coop popped off with, “I knew I liked you.”
Ignoring the quipped comment, Trace looked to the team’s demolitions expert. “Hill?”
“I’m on it.”
Grant stomped over to where Sadiq lay. Squatting down, he carefully pulled the dead man’s cotton covering to reveal what Trace had suspected.
“What do you think?” Trevor looked over at Grant.
“Pretty basic set-up, but you guys should clear the area, just in case.”
“Fuck that, big guy.” Coop took a step closer. “We’re not leaving you.”
“I appreciate the sentiment.” Grant continued studying the device. “But you have families to think about.”
With a low snort, Coop reminded the former SEAL, “So do you, dipshit. And if you think I’m gonna tell that little girl of yours the story of how her dad got blown to smithereens saving our asses, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
“Coop’s right.” Trevor stared back at their teammate.
Trace’s throat worked against the painful knot of emotions suddenly building up inside his throat. This wasn’t just a team. It was a family.
A family Jake McQueen had created. A family Trace was proud to be a part of.
Without another word, he and the others remained by Grant’s side. Their breathes froze in their chests as they waited for their trusted team member to do his thing.
As he stood there, Trace pictured Emma’s gorgeous face.
He thought of the nights they’d spent together. The way her curves fit perfectly against him. The way their bodies fit together as if they’d been made for one another.
I love you.
Trace said the words to her in his mind, knowing if he made it out of this alive, he’d tell her the second he saw her again.
He’d spent so much of his life running from the very thing he needed. But as Trace focused on Grant’s movements once more, he prayed for the chance to tell her how he truly felt.
Grant used the set of clippers he’d kept stashed in one of his many pockets. Trace held his breath and waited, watching as the other man clipped one of the thin wires.
Nothing happened. A second later, Grant exhaled loudly and stood to his feet.
“We’re clear.”