As he walked across the base her earlier words kept bouncing around in his head, torturing him with the possibility that she’d been telling the truth. That she’d actually told her family she’d been wrong before.

That she’d chosen him over them.

It wasn’t fair that she’d been put in that position in the first place but it hadn’t been his doing. And, much as his instinct warned him to ignore everything she’d said, he couldn’t.

Because impossible as it seemed, if it was true, it meant that against all odds, there might still be a chance for them.

Chapter Six

Honor winced as she shifted the pillow behind her back and changed position on her bunk slightly. The stitches in the back of her shoulder pulled whenever she moved her arm and even when she didn’t the wounds throbbed. After sitting on her bruised ass for the past two hours she was stiff as hell and she knew it was only going to get worse before it got better.

The book she’d started was one she’d been looking forward to reading but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t concentrate on the story. Her thoughts kept slipping back to Liam, everything he’d done today, everything he’d said. He might not be willing or able to forgive her for what she’d done but he still cared enough to stay with her and wanted to make sure she was okay.

Obsessing about what it means is only going to make you miserable.

She got busy reading. She was only half a chapter into the story when her cell beeped with a text message. Her heart leapt, hope surging inside her that it might be Liam. But when she eased to her side to retrieve it from the upturned crate that served as her bedside table, disappointment filled her, along with dread. Her sister.

For a moment she contemplated ignoring or deleting the message, but since it had been nearly a month since she’d last heard from Charity, she decided to read it.

Just heard about attack on the news. R U OK?

A bittersweet pain pierced her. In spite of everything, Charity still loved her and cared enough to reach out. She knew this was her sister’s version of the proverbial olive branch. No matter how toxic she could be or how conflicted Honor was about their complicated relationship, she didn’t have the heart to ignore the peace offering.

I’m OK, she replied, leaving out all the details. Made for some excitement around here.

A few seconds later a response came back. I’ll bet.

When Honor didn’t reply, Charity sent another text. Was worried about U. Stay safe and keep in touch. Miss U.

Staring at the small screen in her hand, Honor’s throat tightened. If the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, then she knew she couldn’t reply in kind and let herself slide back into the part of peacemaker. Her entire life she’d always smoothed things over, avoiding conflict when she could and diffusing it those rare times when she couldn’t. She’d been raised that way, had been expected to fulfill that role, or suffer the consequences.

It had taken losing Liam to make her wake up and eventually break free of that cycle, using the backbone she’d been born with. After losing so much in an effort to embrace who she truly was and what she wanted, she couldn’t go back now. Wouldn’t, no matter how much this hurt.

Thanks. Be well, was all she could think to say. Charity didn’t send anything else.

As Honor set the phone back on her nightstand, a sinking sensation filled her, the same reaction she always had when the scale of the loss hit home again. Though she was on the other side of the world in a combat zone and had just been wounded in a deadly attack, it was knowing that she essentially no longer had a family that made her feel totally alone. Seeing Liam again today and his reaction to what she’d said felt like the last tether of hope grounding her had been severed.

The hut door opened and Captain Candace “Ace” Bradford walked in, dressed in her flight suit. Ace stopped inside the doorway as she shut the door behind her and raked her gaze over Honor, her eyes zeroing in on the sling and bandages. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as it looks from this, just a few stitches and stuff.” Stuff being a few remaining shards of shrapnel they hadn’t been able to dig out of her. And a mild concussion that made her feel like an army of miners was hammering at the inside of her skull with pickaxes. She set down her e-reader. “Did you guys get airborne when the attack happened?” She hadn’t seen a Spectre in the air earlier, but everything had happened so fast and she’d only seen a portion of the battlefield from the Chinook’s shoulder window.

“Yeah, but it took a while. We’re lucky we didn’t lose more aircraft to those rockets.” Ace walked over and sat on the foot of Honor’s bunk, her expression worried. “Heard you were in the air today too.”

“Who’d you hear that from?”

“Ryan.”

Of course. His and Ace’s relationship had caused quite the scandal when the story had first broken in the media—them both being in AFSOC, and Ace’s father being a Senator and all. Somehow they managed to see each other and still fly under the radar while being back here together. Not an easy feat, to make a relationship like theirs work, but they clearly loved each other a lot and were willing to do whatever it took to stay together.

Honor admired them both a lot for that. She should have given Liam that exact same dedication and loyalty when she’d had the chance.

“Who’d he hear that from?” she asked, pushing aside the painful thought.

“From a SOAR pilot.” Ace’s brown eyes searched hers. “Were you on Liam’s bird?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know it until I got on board though. Everything happened so fast, it was utter chaos out there. A crew chief came up yelling that they needed a gunner. One of my guys and I just ran after him up the ramp.”

“I know, it was crazy out there.” Ace leaned back on her elbows, still studying her. “So. You guys talk at all once it was all over?”

“Unfortunately,” she muttered.

Looking all kinds of intrigued, Ace rolled to her side and propped her head in one hand. A few tendrils of honey-blond hair that had escaped the tidy bun framed her face. “Why, what did he say?”

“I think he felt bad about the way he’s ignored me, so when he realized I was hurt he came with me to the hospital.” She reminded herself that it was likely guilt that had motivated him, nothing else.

“So he definitely still cares.”

Honor swallowed and lowered her gaze to the blanket she’d draped over her legs. “Yeah.” As much as he’d let himself, anyway. She supposed she should be grateful that he cared about her at all anymore. “Not that it much matters now.”

“What? Of course it matters.”

“What matters?” Erin asked as she stepped into the hut.

Ace glanced at Honor for permission before answering. “She was telling me about Liam.”

“Oh.” Erin shrugged out of her jacket and came over to perch on the other side of the bed, leaning on her hip and elbow beside Ace. She raised a dark eyebrow, her expression curious. “So, you were saying…what about him? That he’s an unfeeling prick and doesn’t deserve the time of day from you?”

“No.” She scowled as a wave of protective anger washed through her on his behalf. Only she could call him a prick, no one else. “It’s not… He’s not…” Man, she so didn’t want to have this conversation, let alone when she was so raw. “Look, he’s not a prick, okay?”

Erin blinked in surprise at her vehemence. “Uh, okaaay,” she said slowly. “Can you elaborate on that then? Because from what I saw earlier at the hospital, you wanted him the hell away from you as soon as possible, and I assumed it wasn’t because he was being a sweet, supportive guy. So please enlighten me,” she finished blandly.