Page 42 of Found Through Fire

“Already done, plane’s on standby,” Gig voices in my ear.

I shut the door, ready for the petal to hit the metal, only to be met with Grey giving me his signature glare as he just stands there.

“Give me the keys or start driving. We really don’t have time to argue about whatever I did to piss you off in your head right now,” I say while walking to the passenger seat. I know he won’t actually let me drive.

He takes a second and then starts moving. He climbs into the driver’s seat, starts the car, and drives like Ms. Daisy down the winding streets of the small town. I rattle off directions as we go.

We’re on a long, winding road alongside a cliff that overlooks the ocean. Silence is heavy, but I don’t miss him trying to avoid as many potholes as possible. “You’re bleeding all over the seat,” Grey says, white-knuckling the steering wheel, keeping his eyes forward.

I realize that I completely forgot about the “getting shot” thing, not even feeling it until he pulled my attention to it—thank you, adrenaline. “Ehh, I wasn’t planning on getting my security deposit back for the rental car, anyways,” I reply with a shrug and look back to the road, now aware of the stinging in my side as I try to shift and find a position that is more comfortable. He just had to point it out,fucking asshole.

He grunts and tightens his hands on the wheel. Pretty sure he’ll break it clean off if he grips it any harder. There’s a vein popping out of his forehead. He needs to relax more; being that tense can’t be good for his blood pressure. I open my mouth to tell him just that, but I think better of it and keep that bit of advice to myself for now. I’ll tell him when he’s calmer.

Reaching the rally point, we’re met with two black cars. As we pull up, one of the back doors of the first car opens, and an older man steps out. I recognize him immediately from the picture that the girl’s father sent me. He wanted to come, but I reminded him that he was too recognizable. If anyone spottedhim, it’d jeopardize the entire mission and his daughter’s safety. He’d reluctantly agreed the best bet would be to send someone that he trusts completely to get her from me and bring her back home.

When Grey brings the car to a stop, I open my door and get out without hesitation. Grey curses, shoving opens his own door and rushing to my side. I look at him, eyebrows crinkled in confusion, but he just ignores me, turning his glare at the men approaching as I help the girl out of the back seat.

Over my shoulder, she spots the older man standing in the middle of the cars and starts crying. She shoves past me, and I watch on in pride as she hobbles as fast as her injuries will allow her. He matches her as he hurries forward. When they meet, she throws herself into his arms, sobbing into his dress shirt.

The older man looks over the top of her head, and making eye contact with me, lifts his hand to cradle the back of her head into his chest as he rubs her back with the other. “Thank you so much for returning my granddaughter. The transfer was completed the second she got out of the car.” His voice is strained as he tries to hold back his emotions in front of everyone around us. I just nod and turn back to the car, climbing back into the passenger seat.

The second that my door closes, Grey joins me. The ride to the airport is blissfully silent. Though, I’m pretty sure the asshole next to me is about to implode.

CHAPTER 16

GREY

My restraint slips the closer I get to the airport. I feel like I have aged ten years since the brat walked away from the car towards the estate that had armed guards waiting at the entrance, leaving me sitting there doing fuckin’ nothing. I didn’t have any details of her plan ahead of time; I didn’t know what to expect… But watching her talk and walk her way through the gate like it was a normal fuckin’ day was not it.

After that, I put in my earpiece and logged into the body cam feed. Her camera was covered by the uniform that she put on before walking away from the car, so I just sat there like a dumbass waiting for it to start. I have never been on the sidelines during a mission, and I hated every fuckin’ second of it.

After an hour of her being in the estate and nothing on the video feed, the camera was finally uncovered. I almost lost my shit when she walked out of her room looking at her phone this morning. It shocked me so much that I choked on the gum that I was chewing. Why is she running around half fuckin’ naked, strapped down with knives and guns? Her father and brothers see her doing that shit and just let her?

I’ve lived with her for almost two weeks, and she always pranced around in shorts and loose shirts. But seeing her in tightspandex shorts and a sports bra, with her toned stomach on full display…and how taut that sports bra was around curves that I never knew that she had, pissed me the fuck off. What was she going to do if she was captured while trying to get the target out? I’d have to go in and try to get her out by myself and probably get killed in the process, leaving her to fend for herself until her dad or brothers could get her, if there even was anything left of her.

She never let me get out of the car, but I dropped her off every morning for her to sit at coffee shops and work on her computer. Sometimes she would walk up and down the street, looking like a tourist and wearing a different wig every day. She never told me what she was looking for exactly, but I never asked.

Coming from the military, we had plans that were made by our superiors and given to us when it was time to execute the mission. I was never in charge of recon; I tend to stand out from the crowd, so “blending in” was never an option. It was fine with me—I would rather go in full force instead of dancing around the bullshit.

After doing this all day, she would come back to the small, shabby-looking house, take a shower, and make dinner for the both of us. I watched her work and look over her notes as she would take a bite of food. It pissed me off how little she ate, and I noticed after the third night that she does eat, she just needs to be reminded when she gets distracted. Every now and then, I would ask her a question to pull her out of her focus, and she would remember to fuckin’ eat.

This shit is why I didn’t want to babysit her. I shouldn’t have to worry about making sure she eats enough to keep her energy up for whatever she was doing the next day. I wasn’t her dad or one of her brothers. If I was going to keep her alive, the least she could do is properly take care of herself.

Watching her work left me conflicted. I still didn’t see why she was doing it. I could see that the mission went smoothly since she was able to get in and out so easily. She’s well trained, and her plans were thought out. But the feeling of being impressed by her work changed to rage and worry when I realized that she got shot.

I don’t know what I was expecting her reaction to be when she saw me standing there, waiting for them with the first aid kit, but telling me to get my ass in the car was not it. It was like she didn’t notice that she was shot. It could have been shock, but she was still completely in control of the situation. She only shifted in her seat and showed some discomfort after I pointed out that she was bleeding, and her only response was the shit about the security deposit.

I could see her looking over at me through the corner of my eye, like she was trying to figure out if I was okay whenshewas the one who was fuckin’ shot! This brat is going to send me into a fuckin’ rage.

When we made it to the cliff that she directed me to, a man got out of the car. After seeing his face, she got out of the car, ignoring the pain that I’m sure she felt. I’ve taken a few hits through the years, and I know it hurts like a bitch for the smallest move.

I muttered under my breath as I followed her out. I was here for back up, and she was acting like she was flying solo. She didn’t even care that these men could be there to kill her or take her to do their own bidding. I’m sure her brothers looked into them, or she did it herself, but that is a chance that she shouldn’t be taking while she was already injured.

I stood tall next to her, staring down the men that exited the car. When the girl got out of the back seat and ran to the man in the middle, I started to settle a little. They then spoke to Willowin Spanish, which I’m assuming she understood after hearing her speak to the girl on the video.

After all was said and done, Willow turned and got back into the car. She was finally starting to get that I won’t have her driving me around like Miss fuckin’ Daisy, saving time without arguing that will get her nowhere.

I pull up next to the plane that Gideon said was on standby, and I only know that it’s him because Willow said his name while she was talking to him. I still have no idea how she can tell their voices apart.