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“I know this, Summer.”
“They why are you here? With him?” She gestured angrily to Raeg as he sat silently, simply watching her, his eagle-like gaze far too intent. “For God’s sake, Falcon—”
Raeg smacked a picture down on the table.
Staring down at it, Summer felt everything inside her freeze in shock as she recognized the girl.
And she knew. In that moment, Summer knew peace was once again elusive, and hell was waiting instead.
Chapter
TWO
The picture was of a younger version of herself. Barely eighteen, her eyes more blue than violet, her smile more open, filled with warmth and joy. The young woman stood in front of a Main Street clothing store with several other girls, their expressions animated as they stared at the long, formal dress in the window.
“Aunjenue.” She whispered her sister’s name.
It wasn’t the only picture.
The four-by-six photos Raeg tossed onto the table in front of her featured her family, from at different times. Her brothers—though the picture of her eldest brother Caleb wasn’t there—Momma and Daddy, cousins, several aunts. And two of her mother shopping with Aunjenue.
They were surveillance photos.
“The envelope these came in was addressed to me,” Raeg told her quietly. “Inside was this note.”
He placed it carefully on top of the photos.
Summer Calhoun, Cliffton, Georgia
Not Summer Bartlett. Summ
er Calhoun.
“Who? How?” She shook her head.
She had been careful. Very careful. Even the name Summer Bartlett wasn’t ever used on an operation. Her codename Belle was the only one she’d ever used.
She was caught by Raeg’s gaze, the piercing golden brown predatory color was cool, watchful, waiting. Waiting to see if it was her fault? To point out how she’d messed up? She hadn’t messed up. She was too careful for that.
“Who did this?” she whispered, lips numb, fighting to process how this could have happened. “How did they do this?”
The implacable expression on Raeg’s face never changed as he answered her. “Dragovich.”
The word struck at her with a force that caused her to flinch.
The Russian crime lord had come in on her as she was retrieving a flash drive from his laptop at his office in Moscow that contained sensitive military information. Information he’d paid a premium for.
He’d shot her in her shoulder from the back as she jumped through a second-story window to the balcony. Falcon had been waiting in the SUV just below the edge of the balcony, and when she managed to drop to it and into the open sun roof, he’d sped away, ensuring no one identified her. When they’d finally managed to get out of Russia, they’d left enough suspicion that she’d died that she was certain he wasn’t even looking for her.
“How?” Linking her fingers together at her lap, she clenched tight, pulling back the shock, the fear to find that center where the cool agent rather than the woman torn with panic existed. “How did he learn my identity? Find my family? No one knew I was there but…”
That was all it took—the knowledge of who had known her identity and the fact that Dragovich would pay just about any price to acquire it.
“Just the team,” Falcon confirmed. “You, me, Gia.”
Gia. The friend Summer had been forced to kill to save Falcon.
“She sold Dragovich the information just after your arrival at that last job the three of you took to protect Alyssa Hampstead,” Raeg confirmed. “Payment was made and the file sent electronically just days before…”
