Page 39 of Entwined With You

“Why didn’t you say so ages ago,” Cami asked. “And why didn’t anyone tell us. Nothing personal, Mr. Hunter, but part of the agreement when we joined was that all of this would remain confidential.”

“And I assure you it will. Colonel Seagrave is the one who told me, and it was most definitely a need-to-know situation. Even so, you’re right to feel annoyed, even betrayed. But let me assure you that I don’t care what you did before. There’s not a one of us who doesn’t have things in our past we’d like to keep buried. No one else in the office other than Damien is aware. Share if you want — that’s your prerogative—but as far as Stark Security is concerned, your past is irrelevant. All we care about is your work.

“What happened three weeks ago?” Brax asked after Cami just shrugged in response to his questioning glance.

“We’ll be landing soon. We’ll tell you all of it then.”

Brax frowned, but nodded. He sat back in his seat and told himself not to panic. It was ridiculous, but he could feel that same terror rising the way it had when he was a kid and his dad would slide into one of his rages. The unpredictable kind that might earn Brax a mere spanking, a series of shoves holding his head under water, or the pain and smell of burning flesh that came when his father pressed the branding iron to the back of his thigh.

It was the same kind of fear he’d feel in later years when he’d be walking the street—not even thinking about a con, much less pulling one. But he’d see a cop and start to panic, certain the officer would scoop him up for no reason at all, then toss him into a dark cell just for the pleasure of punishing him.

He felt the light squeeze of his hand and realized he’d closed his eyes. He opened them to find Cami studying him. Her brow rose in question, and he nodded, silently telling her that he was okay. He hoped to hell he’d just told her the truth.

After fifteen minutes in the air, the copter descended to a roof long enough for them to get out before it rose back up into the sky. Brax looked around, but nothing was familiar. He knew only that they had to be somewhere in the LA area. And that didn’t tell him much at all.

A door led to an elevator bank, and they got into the waiting car. There were no buttons and no floor indicator, but Brax could guess from the swift movement of the car and the lag it took from start to finish, that they were in one of the city’s skyscrapers.

The doors opened onto a crisp, modern area with a polished stone floor and contemporary furniture in mostly leather and steel.

A pair of sliding doors parted, and Colonel Anderson Seagrave rolled through in his wheelchair. “Cami, Brax.” His gruff voice was reassuring. “I’m sorry if we put you ill at ease, but it’s wonderful to see you both again.”

“It’s great to see you, too, Colonel,” Brax said. “And please don’t take this the wrong way, but why the hell are we here?”

“You’re currently undertaking to protect the Sisters against another attempted theft.”

Brax glanced at Ryan. “That’s correct.”

“As it turns out, the mission is about more than merely protecting the Sisters. It’s imperative those stones don’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Brax met Cami’s eyes and saw that she was just as confused as he was.

“What I’m about to tell you is highly classified,” Seagrave said. “The consequences, should this information leak, would be dire. Do you understand?”

“Of course. Whose wrong hands are we protecting them from?”

“Well, that’s where it gets interesting,” Seagrave says, shooting a half-smile toward Ryan.

As if taking his cue, Ryan swipes his arm in a circle. “From the SOC,” he says.

Brax pinched the bridge of his nose. “The SOC. This SOC?”

“Actually, no,” Seagrave said, then frowned, his expression turning completely grave. “It appears that we have a shadow.”

“A shadow?” Cami repeated. “What does that mean?”

“A criminal organization—highly funded, extremely professional, and very organized. And it’s passing itself off as an off-book division of this organization. Needless to say, the Pentagon is not pleased. We’ve been trying to locate their cell for months. We know enough to be certain there are cells in both Manhattan and Los Angeles. We believe Miami and San Francisco, too. London and Paris are also confirmed.”

“Good god,” Cami said, her voice barely a whisper.

“What’s our assignment?” Brax asked. The SOC was the organization that had pulled him out of the morass of grief and crime he’d slid into after Sabrina had died. For that alone, he’d do whatever was necessary to stop the counterfeit group.

“We have reason to believe they’re trying to steal the Sisters. We’ve had a deep cover agent in place now for almost two months, and his intel seems solid.”

“You have an agent in place?” Cami repeated. “Then why haven’t you burned them to the ground?”

“We need more evidence from every cell, not just one. And we need to know how many cells there are. Even with our mole, we’re mostly flying blind. We’re hoping to remedy that soon. In fact, we’re hoping to capture one of their agents during your operation. The priority is to prevent the theft, of course, but lassoing an agent of the Los Angeles cell for interrogation would be an incredible coup.”

“You think they’re going to piggyback off the heist that we’re planning?”