Besides . . . a glance at Barry, yes, now asleep in the recliner, and the memory of Noemi’s pain at saying goodbye to her father, again, even if she didn’t want to admit that . . . no, Tae didn’t want to put Colt in that position.

The family had just found their footing again. She wasn’t going to rip it out from under them.

She’d miss this world. Miss the quiet.

Miss Colt. The thought unsettled her. But he’d been her friend. A hot, way-too-charming friend, but just a friend. Who made her feel safe. So maybe that was what she’d miss.

Time to go.

Find Zoey.

Save the world.

Without Colt.

Then no one else would get hurt.

Something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t the nagging tightness in his chest that just couldn’t seem to release, despite the thousand times Colt told himself that he wasn’t hanging over a cliff, or even taking the shot that might have killed them all.

Sure, he might attribute it to last night’s conversation with the president’s men, Sutton and Thorne, including Tae’s words, which really should have everyone scared to their last wit.

The conversation sat in his head, his chest, his soul.“All you need is a sick fanatic to get to a populated place. We are completely unprepared for the virus to reach American shores.”

He’d met quite a few sick fanatics over the past ten years working as the tip of the spear for his country, and off the books for Jones, Inc.

So yeah, that could account for the buzz under his skin, the way he stretched out that night behind his room-darkening drapes, staring at the slit of light in the ceiling.

It might even have been his conversation yesterday with Tae, on the deck, her story about losing her father at the age of ten, the pain that still edged her voice. And he wouldn’t easily forget the way she’d looked at him when he’d told her that he was in this with her.

Had surprised himself, really, too. Because he’d seen himself heading back to Jones, Inc. and his next assignment as soon as his body stopped hurting.

Although, he’d long ago learned to live with pain, on the inside and out.

But something about watching Tae face her regrets, her failures, had tugged at something inside. And listening to Thorne berate her yesterday afternoon had only solidified the urge to protect her.

Colt punched his pillow, rolled over. His shoulders still ached a little from when he’d held both of them up over the glacier edge. And that only brought the memory of Tae tucked into his arms, so to speak.