Lucas breathed in and out slowly. This couldn't be happening, Adam couldn't be dead. After eight years of Russian prison, he was finally back in England and back with Adam. He couldn't lose him again.
"It's not fair!" he screamed, anger and hurt pouring out of him.
Thinking back to this morning, everything had been fine. They had shared a smile and a kiss in private before the briefing. They'd found out who was behind the attack. He had followed the woman and had seen Adam standing near the car. It had all seemed so innocent, so normal.
No one but Adam had know that there was a bomb in the trunk. God damn, Adam. Why did he have go off and play the hero? What about him? Did Adam even consider what his death might mean to him?
Closing his eyes, Lucas prayed for oblivion. One minute Adam had smiled at him, and the next, the shit had hit the fan. Damn. He was even starting to sound like a bloody Yank. He shook his head, refusing to believe that Adam was dead. Lucas had always thought that he would feel it in his heart if something happened to Adam.
"Damn you, Adam! Why do you have to be such a fucking hero all the time?!"
When his mobile rang, he looked at the display. Frowning at the unknown number, he picked it up. "North here."
"Lucas, it's me," a man's voice replied.
Lucas gasped in recognition, tears of relief streaming down his cheeks. "You bloody bastard," he said, his voice soft. "I'm going to kill you!"
"I love you, too."