Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(269)

“The hell you can't!” Her words are like shattered glass, and I can tell by the strain in her face that she’s barely keeping it together right now.

“Quinn-” Chelsea starts to move towards her sister, but Quinn shakes her head furiously, tears stinging her eyes. The brave front is crumbling, right here.

“No! We go get him!” She narrows her eyes at the Major, anger flashing through her face; “You're saying the American government won't go rescue one of it's own citizens in trou-”

“Quinn, Logan doesn't exist.” Major Lawson's voice is steady, and his words drop like a shroud over the room; “None of you do, or did.” He sighs and looks towards Hudson and then me; “You know that. It's the price you paid for changing your pasts when William brought you back.” He shakes his head; “I mean you're here, you pay your taxes through a mesh of shell organizations and all that, but for all intents and purposes, you do not exist; not really.” He looks at Quinn, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second; “That's why I can't send in the cavalry.”

She starts to collapse then, but he's got her even as I move towards her. She's screaming, hitting his chest, but he's holding her tightly; every inch the father figure her own father asked him to be before he passed.

I look up, and for a moment, my eyes lock with her; with Peyton. And right in that moment, I see her start to crumble. Her face is still drawn and emotionless, her fists clenched at her side, and her shoulders square and back. But a single tear breaches the rim of her eye and starts to trickle down her soft cheek.

Fuck this. Enough is enough. My family is broken, wounded, hurt, and stolen around me, and watching Peyton’s normally iron-cast resolve crack in front of me is the final straw. It's the last thing I can abide.

I know I'm going to say it before I do, but I still get a shock when I open my mouth; “Fine. I’m going, then.”

The room goes still as every eye turns towards me.

“What?” Chelsea's shaking her head at me; “Going where?”

“After Logan. Fuck this and fuck Blackriver. I'm going in, I'm going to kill Benson with my bare hands, and I'm going to bring my- our brother home.” I look back towards Quinn and Major Lawson. She's wiping tears away from her eyes and nodding slowly at me. The Major has a grim looking smile on his face as he winks at me; yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing stoking this fire.

“I'm coming with you.” Javier's face is grim as he flexes, clenching his hands into fists.

“Same,” Chelsea says, stepping forward. Javier starts to open his mouth at her words, and I almost want to grin as she turns and shakes her head quickly, her mouth tight; “We're both coming.”

“I'm afraid not.” Major Lawson clears his throat; “Neither of you can, actually.”

“Better have a good reason why not, viejo,” Javier growls, fire raging in his eyes.

“It's the same issue only the opposite side of the coin. You exist; both of you do.” The Major says quietly; “More than that, you both exist and you both work for the Federal Government. You think it's OK for a CIA and a DEA agent to just go off to another country with guns and shoot people?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Chelsea's face is contorted with rage.

“I wish I was.” He says quietly. He turns to me; “Bryce, however, does not. For all intents and for our purposes, he's a ghost.”

I nod again; “Good, then it’s settled, and I’m going.”

“So am I.” Peyton breaking her silence, has me turning my head to glare right at her. Her hand comes up, and it’s almost unnoticeable as she brushes the tear from her cheek in one sweeping motion that has her pushing her hair back behind her ear; like that was the whole point of the gesture.

Jesus does this girl know how to hide the pain.

“The hell you are.” I growl.

“Wait, how could she go? She 'exists' too.” Chelsea shakes her head; “I mean no offense,” she says, glancing at Peyton.

“No, she doesn't.” I say quietly. It's a long story, and it's a story I don't need to go down right now. She’s the same as me; a broken past, and a chance at a better life as someone new. I glare at her; “But that doesn’t mean you’re fucking coming,” I say darkly.

She’s got that shadow across her face that I know, or at least knew, all too well. It’s that look of defiance, the look of cold resolve, the look of someone as broken as me who’s seen way more than they should’ve and come back from the edge anyways. That look on her face is like a twisting little blade in my side, and it tears me up inside because through all of this, she’s standing alone over there. Through all this shit, with the only family she’s ever had taken away from her, she’s alone; and deep down, I know she’s ok with that. A big part of me wants to get up and just go over there and protect her with everything I have and every part of me. But I know I can’t. We’re past that now, and there’s no going back. There was a time when it was me and her against it all, like two rocks standing tall against the winds and the rain; two broken souls finding solace in each other and finding healing for our scars within the other.