Oh hell, yeah. He was more than ready to kill.
The other time Archer had been angry enough to commit murder had been the day they’d lost Hunter. Over two years later, he and the others werestilltrying to find the person or people responsible for their friend’s death. And their military demise.
But even that sort of vengeance-fueled anger felt different than what he was experiencing now.
It didn’t matter that Cassie was still alive and standing right beside him. The fact that, minus some bruising, swelling, and a tender-as-fuck throat, she was going to be okay did little to appease the need for revenge against Edward Yates. Even knowing the bastard was no longer a free man didn’t matter.
There was an unprecedented darkness brewing within him, and Archer feared, this time, he might not able to keep it contained.
He tried to take her from me.
Archer turned and looked at Cassie again, this time not bothering to be sly or indiscrete. His chest tightened as he took in the shades of blues and purples that had already formed below her left eye and across her cheekbone. And when his gaze lowered to the raw, angry marks marring the delicate skin at her neck, his fists twitched with the need to break through that goddamn glass and finish what he’d started back in her office.
Cassie doesn’t need you to go all caveman on her, dipshit. She needs security and comfort. She needs…you.
He studied her closely as she stood silently beside him. With her arms wrapped tightly around her own waist, those sad, tortured eyes hadn’t left that glass since Knox had first escorted them into the room.
On the other side, in the room adjacent to the one they were in, Edward Yates sat cuffed to a bar permanently mounted on the table before him. The man’s face was swollen and bruised all to shit, and Archer felt a modicum of satisfaction knowing his fist was the one responsible for the damage.
“You don’t have to be here, you know,” he spoke with a gentle tone. “Knox has our statements, and you made a positive I.D. of your attacker at the scene. Your job’s done, sweetheart. Why don’t you let me take you home?”
“No.” She started to shake her head but reconsidered when the move caused her to wince. “I want to hear what he has to say.”
Her voice was rough. Damaged.
Yates should die for that alone.“It doesn’t matter what the son of a bitch says.”
“It matters to me.” Cassie finally turned to face him.
Sadness and betrayal dulled the blues of her eyes, and a well of unshed tears made them glisten in the room’s low light. The pain, confusion, and sorrow he found staring back at him rippedhis heart to shreds, and suddenly Archer wanted nothing more than to make it go away.
For her.
For Cassie.
For the woman he was pretty sure he’d fallen in love with.
Archer knew how crazy that sounded, given the short amount of time they’d known one another. But in the last few days, he’d begun to feel as though she was the one he’d been searching for all along.
I didn’t even know I was looking.
After everything he’d witnessed in his thirty-six years—the violence, death, and acts he could only describe as pure evil—Archer understood better than most how short life truly was.
His team had been walking along, joking and laughing when Hunter was killed by a terrorist’s bullet. The man had been talking mid-sentence when the ambush occurred, and minutes later, one of the best men Archer had ever known was dead.
Just that fast, Hunter lost his life and Natalie her husband. And those left behind…him, Logan, Lucky, Chase, Van…Nat…their lives had been forever changed in an instant.
It was only by the grace of God that he’d regained consciousness when he did today. If he hadn’t…
“Stop.”
The soft, husky order left him blinking. “Stop what?”
“You’re still blaming yourself for what happened. I can see it in your eyes.” Another wince twisted her gorgeous, battered face as she swallowed. “I’m banged up and sound like shit, and…yeah, I was terrified and thought I was going to die. But I didn’t, thanks to you.”
“Yates never would have touched you if it hadn’t been for me.”
“Maybe.” She closed the distance between them. “Or maybe he just would have waited for another time. A time when you wouldn’t have been around to save me.”