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“Probably not the best idea.” He grimaced. “POTUS might be on the FaceTime call, too.”
“The President. Right. How? Why? I mean, what happened? To the lab? To me? Why are you here? How’d you find me?” I was rambling, the reality of my situation hijacking my thoughts.
Carter backed up, his hand resting atop the gun strapped to his side. Then those tight, strong abdominal muscles flexed before my eyes.
Thank God my vision isn’t that bad . . . because damn.
“We don’t know why your lab was hit yet.” His words pulled me free of my misplaced stupor and back to the matter at hand. “But the President thought I could help, so he brought me in.”
“Aren’t you . . .?” How could I finish that and not sound like an asshole? Just the past summer, Craig Paulsen said he was on all the bad-guy lists. Had something changed? Please say it has.
“I’m not who you think I am, Diana.” He shook his head. “Or maybe I am.” I lost sight of those dark eyes as they cut to the hardwoods.
“But you’re here. You came for me.” Now I was the one tightening my stomach muscles. I could feel the familiar dull ache of fear trying to claim control.
“Of course I came for you.” There was a touch of insult in his tone, as if shocked I’d ever expect him not to.
“So, um, how’d you find me?”
His dark eyes flew to my face, and he observed me for a few intense seconds before revealing, “There were cameras at the lab, ones the Serbians didn’t know about. I heard and saw what happened just before, though. It’s highly doubtful the traffickers who took you were the ones actually after you. We kept a few alive to question them and see what they know.”
Heard and saw me? Why was a fresh wave of oh-shit flooding my system? Despite the drugs, it didn’t take me long to put the pieces together in my mind and understand why I was becoming even uneasier at that news, at the fact Carter had . . .
“You heard me,” I whispered. “My time travel comment.” He was smart enough to put two and two together and know I’d been referring to him. When he peered around the room instead of keeping his eyes on me, I couldn’t help but dip into a past memory and ask, “Looking for a teleprompter?”
That had his attention squarely hot on me, and his tone an octave lower as he said, “You wouldn’t have been able to save her.” He paused for a beat, and my heart skipped three. “So, your first answer was probably the better one.” He turned away as if his words hadn’t anchored me to the same sad and dark place where he seemed to dwell. “Get dressed so you can talk to your mom. Do it from the bed.”
His husky voice wasn’t lost on me, but I also didn’t know how to interpret it after what he admitted. How could I explain to him why I’d given Bahar that answer without feeling like a horrible person since he’d been married when we first met? Did I drop the news on him now of all times that I’d had a crush on him when I was younger? That I still so obviously had feelings of some kind for him.
I let the towel fall, deciding to postpone that talk for another time. Shivering again, I did as he asked and pulled the black oversized shirt over my head. Then I shifted to my back so I could slide on the black sweats without tipping over. No undergarments, but I was good with that. I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of wearing someone else’s underwear.
“You doing okay?” His arms were still locked at his sides.
His broad back muscles pinched, drawing the angel wings together as I let him know, “You can look now.” When he faced me, I was mid-struggle to get back upright, so he quickly came over for an assist.
His hand went to my forearm as mine went to his, and our eyes remained fixed on one another. I’d swear there was a change in energy between us. I felt it shift, the same way I’d felt guys I’d been dating in the past pull back before they ghosted me. A woman always knew what was coming.
I squeezed down the lump in my throat, reminding myself I had to focus on what was important, which was finding Bahar and the others.
He released me and stepped away. “Griffin,” he hollered out a moment later, startling Dallas.
The door opened, and a man dressed similar to Carter, but with a shirt on, joined us. He was about Carter’s height, with the same dark hair, golden skin, and overall hard-ass look as Carter.
Why was he so familiar? “Do I know you?”
“The embassy,” Carter said, turning to the side so he could look between the two of us. “He was the one who saved us from joining floor four.”
It took me a second to connect the dots. I’d seen both of them without their masks that day but for only a few seconds. “That means you were Delta, but now you’re operating together again.” I set my palms at my sides for support. “I’m confused.”
Griffin folded his arms, hanging back by the door. “I was Delta, yes. And we do work together now.”
“We’re in private security.” Carter frowned as if that was bad news.
But, if he was doing that kind of work, that had to mean his name was cleared. “That’s why my mom and the President came to you?”
“It’s part of the reason we were asked to help,” Carter shared, his tone as low as my mood on a non-sunshiny day.
“So, you’re no longer a wanted man? You’re off the list?” I asked, feeling a surge of relief on his behalf.
