Novak’s eyes narrowed. “You really think your broken arm is what caused Scotty’s death?”

“I didn’t cause his death but there is no one in this world who can argue the only reason Scotty was holding the breacher last week was because I couldn’t.”

“Oh. That’s funny. You told me you could handle the breacher despite your cast. In fact, you told me you could do it better than ever because the cast helped strengthen your arm. That’s what you told me.” Novak sounded coldly furious.

Shane huffed. “I was bullshitting you and you knew it.”

“That’s right.” Novak took a step forward until he was right in Shane’s face, but the look in his eyes wasn’t anger. It was complete ruination. “I did know you were bullshitting and I knew why. If it was up to you, you would have handled the breacher even with two broken arms. I’m the one who put Scotty in your position. I’m the one who ordered you to stand down. I’m the one who ultimately signed a death warrant for whoever breached that door. Me. Not you.”

Shane could see the same guilt he was feeling, reflected in the wreckage of Novak’s eyes.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault either. It was that evil son of a bitch’s fault. He’s the one who needs to take the blame. He’s who we need to focus on, not our own useless self-pity.”

Shane blew out a massive breath. He couldn’t speak. Novak was right but dealing with the emotions he was feeling wasn’t that easy.

Novak continued. “Accidents happen. We can spend our days fast-roping out of helicopters and then trip over the curb and break an arm on the way to our car. It’s called life and it isn’t fucking fair.”

Shane nodded even though there was no way anyone could tell him he wasn’t responsible in some way for how things had gone down. But he didn’t want to lose his place on the team by arguing the point further. Bad enough being sidelined. He needed back on the team if he were to have any hope of being there when the FBI caught this asshole. He needed to see the psycho pay.

“I’ve got this, boss.” He stood straighter and stared Novak in the eyes—because when you sold a lie to a man of this caliber you had better put your heart and soul into it. “I’ve made an appointment with the psychologist next week and I know I have to work through the grief process, but I promise it won’t affect my judgment or my ability to do my job.”

Novak waited a beat, then nodded. “Be that as it may, you are off the team until your arm heals.”