“What’s wrong boss? Something bothering you?” Mace asked me quietly as I watched the door where the women had just left.
“No, it’s not that.” I couldn’t give him an answer because I didn’t know what it was that was making me twitchy about the whole thing.
I wasn’t sure if it was my natural sixth sense or my new overprotectiveness where she was concerned. It didn’t help that Lyon’s men didn’t look too settled either at the idea of their women going joyriding in the middle of an Op.
Maybe that was it. This whole situation has left me feeling more bereft than my first firefight. I’d rather dodge bullets in the desert than deal with this evil shit that I’d been pouring over for the last few hours. How anyone could deal with this shit day in and day out and not lose part of themselves is beyond me.