Page 41 of Until the End

“I went to war plenty of times and did what was necessary.” Emotion gathered on his face like a storm cloud. “But someone on my team died because of me. On my watch,” he continued, his jaw tightening. “I let a man down and they gave me a fucking medal. I’m no hero.” He spat out hero as though it were despicable. His jaw was taut, his gaze distant, and she realized more serious deflection was in order.

“That explains why you’re a badass and why you’re helping me.” She closed the drawer, stood, and faced him. “You’re this elite commando.” Kit thought of the Spartan Commando characters in the Halo game the guys used to play, kicking butt and taking names to save humanity. Castle couldn’t possibly object to that comparison. “Programmed to kill the bad guys and save people. It’s in your coding to feel a sense of responsibility for me. Probably for everyone around you.”

Did that make him a true white hat after all?

Castle’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Programmed? Coding? Are you kidding me?” He flicked the sheet harder than necessary.

Had he even heard all the other good stuff?

“Listen, lady, I’m a man, made of flesh and blood with free will. Not a damn robot.” He yanked the linen into hospital corners that would’ve made Martha Stewart proud. “Although I’m sure it’s much easier for you to think of me that way while you bury your head in the sand about national security, choosing to indulge in conspiracy theories instead.”

She’d put her foot in her mouth, and in trying to fix things, she’d only thrown fuel on the flames. It was so much worse now.

“Castle. I…”

Kit was walking on eggshells and couldn’t figure out why this beefcake spy had her head spinning in cartwheels. She dared to step closer and put her hand on his arm. His bicep was so thick and strong. The muscle almost didn’t feel real, it was so darn perfect. What kind of workouts did he do to get this chiseled body?

Marshalling her thoughts back in line, she slid in between him and the bed, forcing him to look at her, but he didn’t drop his menacing glare. Her insides twisted.

“Sometimes I speak without thinking. I have a tendency to rub people the wrong way with my poor choice of words. I didn’t mean to insult you or how you’ve helped me.” On the contrary. He’d saved her life, gotten her out of the Gray Box unscathed, opened his home to her to protect her. No one else living or dead had ever done so much for her. “I can’t fully understand your perspective any more than you can mine. But I want to. Really.”

She wanted to understand what made him tick, what possessed him to put on a military uniform and later choose to work as a covert operative for an agency with questionable practices and too much unchecked power. For goodness’ sake, she wasn’t here of her own volition, even though he seemed to be doing his best to help her.

“Please, Castle…”

He was her only ally. She didn’t want to lose him. There were justified issues of distrust and misunderstanding on both sides, but she knew in her heart she’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.

Her big, stupid tongue. Gah! It was like it had a self-destructive mind of its own sometimes.

The last thing she meant to do was hurt him. From the angry and wounded look on his face, it was too late.

She was going to be sick.

13

“I made a conscious decision to help you because I wanted to.” Against his training, against his boss’s advice. A decision based on instinct.

She’d been terrified with her back to the wall, a true underdog. Castle might be big and bossy, but he was no bully.

He felt sorry for her, losing her team the way she had, but it went deeper. Kit reminded him of his mom. The same spunk and fire that his father had smothered.

“And I appreciate it. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sorry.” She sounded and looked so abject Castle found it impossible to stay angry.

“Fresh towels are in the bathroom and new toothbrushes in the cabinet.” He headed for the door.

“Hey.”

He turned back toward her and the intense look of relief on her face loosened something in his chest.

“I’m sure you don’t have anything that’d fit me, but a clean T-shirt would work.”

“I can have my sister bring some things for you.”

“One night in your T-shirt won’t kill me.”

He pulled out a couple of tees for her to choose from. “Leave your clothes in the hall and I’ll throw them in the washer for you.”

“Promise not to peek at my unmentionables?”