“God, no,” Caroline replied. “Do you?”
Addison pulled aside her black, leather duster to reveal her Glock tucked into the shoulder holster. “Carry your weapon.”
“That’s extreme.”
“You gotta protect yourself,” Addison pushed back.
As Caroline drove out of the parking lot, she scanned the area for Stan’s vehicle, but didn’t see it.
“I thought being in Karakistan was dangerous,” Caroline muttered as she drove toward home. “There’re just as many predators here as there are there.”
GREYSTONE
Greystone had nailedsix hours of sleep like a swaddled baby. The only thing missing was a woman in his arms, a dog on the floor beside his bed. Rested and refreshed, he pushed hard on his morning run, was a beast in the gym, and enjoyed a full-protein breakfast on his porch table while soaking up the morning sun. For the first time in a long time, he could breathe. But his moment of Zen would be short-lived.
For the two weeks since he’d been called back to the DMV—the District, Maryland, and Virginia—he’d been in the dark as to why. His desk job at Langley was more smoke and mirrors… and non-existent. When he swung by HQ, no one would answer any of his questions. He’d asked about Caroline Austin, only to be told she’d been promoted to an intelligence officer and was on assignment.
Where?
No one would tell him that.
Who was her handler?
He was chastised for asking. How dare he expect an answer when he knew that information was confidential? He hated not knowing where she was, hated that he didn’t haveherback for achange. Theonething his superior told him was to work the restaurant gig like it mattered.
In truth, it did. He hadn’t been a part of the family business since he was a kid, but that business was all about dirty deals, blackmail, cons, manipulation, and murder. At least this time, the eatery was legit.
He hadn’t been a Santini in so long, it felt damn good to be one again.
His phone buzzed with a text from Dakota Luck.
I’m outside
With his backpack in hand, Greystone left the small house in Arlington that the Agency had rented for him. It was an older home with outdated furniture, but it was clean, it was close to DC, and the neighborhood was filled with regular people. Regular people with normal jobs. Some had families, some had dogs. Some had both. People said hello to each other, neighbors stopped to chat on the sidewalk.
And he had no idea what the hell to make of that.
He made his way down the front lawn, got into Dakota’s black SUV. Two coffees waited in the cup holders.
“Hey,” Greystone said.
“You want a coffee?”
“I’m good.”
Dakota pulled away from the curb, drove down the quiet residential street. “You’re gonna have to cut back on your restaurant hours.”
Greystone said nothing.
“The assignment will eat up your time,” Dakota continued.
“No prob.” Greystone shifted his attention out the passenger window.
“How are you adjusting?” Dakota pressed.
Greystone glanced over at Dakota. He wasn’t much of atalker, but Dakota wanted to have a conversation, so he’d have one.
“It’s good to be back,” Greystone said. “Lotsa changes. I missed my brothers, and it’s been tough seein’ ‘em. They’re like strangers to me.”
