Page 25 of Avenging Angel

“Or patience?” Vinny asks.

Daisy looks at me with determination—and a bit of defiance—in her gaze. “Patience? I’ve waited 20 years. I’d say I have it in spades. As for stealth, there’s no point. He shot a drone, Angel. It’s no secret he knew where we were. Nor was it a secret that we knew of his presence.”

She gestures toward the remnants of the drone on the ground, then adds, “The evidence of that fact is lying at your feet. Slow and steady only gets you so far. Sometimes you need to sprint to the finish line. I want the win.”

I reach up and cup her cheeks, reddened from both exertion and frustration. “I want you to win as much as anyone else, Daisy, but not at the expense of getting yourself killed. Promise me you won’t go running headfirst into danger.”

Her callused fingers rest against mine, her eyes turning downcast. “That’s not a promise I can make.”

As soon as we walk through the front door of the cabin, I toss my pack against the wall and remove the comm device from my ear. Daisy huffs, tossing her pack on the bed before heading straight toward the bathroom.

The door slams.

“Trouble in paradise?” Vinny asks me.

I open the refrigerator door, looking for a beer that isn’t there. Now I’m regretting not picking up a six-pack from the store when I went shopping to stock the cabinets. Instead, I opt for a berry-flavored sparkling water. It’ll have to do.

“Paradise implies Daisy and I are more than friends, but she’s reckless and impulsive. If she continues down the path she’s on, then we’ll never get to be more than friends. I asked her to promise me that she wouldn’t purposefully put herself in danger. Can you believe it? She refused.”

Vinny walks over to me and lowers his voice. “Have you considered that Daisy’s recklessness might be because she just wants her current journey to end so that she can start a new one with you? One without the baggage of a life she hasn’t been able to fully leave behind her? How does one move forward if one is always looking back? In Daisy’s case, she still has to look over her shoulder until her abductor is caught. I honestly believe that she’s tired of having a crick in her neck.”

“What do I do?”

“Try to put yourself in her shoes. Daisy survived weeks in the wilderness—alone. No one was there to help her, guide her, or comfort her. She was truly lost and on death’s door when the Grahams found her. My advice: don’t let her feel that way ever again. Be there for her when she needs you most. Trust me, you’ll know when that is. In the meantime, try to keep a level head and keep some patience in reserve for those moments.”

I remove my beanie and run a hand through my matted hair. “I don’t know if I can stand idly by while she needlessly risks her life.”

“Then don’t,” Vinny says, as if it’s that simple. “You’re a protector by nature. It’s why, against my advice, you joined the CIA. But you don’t need a badge to prove you’re one of the good guys. So do what you were born to do. Protect. Protect Daisy, even if it’s from herself. Give her a reason to think twice before risking her life. Remember, this case isn’t needless to her. It’s personal.”

We both fall silent when the door to the bathroom opens and Daisy walks out. She looks at Vinny, then at me. “My ears are burning.”

I won’t lie to her and say we weren’t talking about her. She wouldn’t believe it anyway. Instead, I tell her the truth. “I’m worried about you. There is a right way to handle this, and then there’s your way.”

Vinny coughs, then grumbles. “Not helpful.”

“My way? What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks. Her pointed glare, widened stance, and hands on her hips suggest that I should tread carefully with whatever is about to come out of my mouth.

“Off the cuff. Without intelligence.”

“Are you calling me dumb?” she asks.

Vinny raises his hands and steps back. “I’m going to go outside and remove myself from the line of fire.”

I roll my eyes and wave him away before facing off with Daisy. “No, I’m not calling you dumb. I’m saying that you’re operating without gathering intelligence. Do you know who you were even chasing on that trail? What’s his name? What’s his profession? What’s his skill set and capabilities? You knew nothing about the man—a man with a rifle, I might add—and went running after him without waiting for backup!”

“That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You want to play the hero,” she says with a slight sneer.

I want to be her hero, but that’s neither here nor there. “It’s not about being the hero, Daisy. It’s about playing things close to the vest. My role within the CIA was as a sniper for counterterrorism operations, which is more paramilitary than being a spy like James Bond. That said, I didn’t go after a target without knowing everything there is to know about him, her, or whomever. Data collection was paramount so that I knew where to hit, when to hit, and how to hit. I certainly didn’t chase an armed man without backup in a place where he could easily ambush me or shoot me from behind cover. Nor did I blatantly question someone in the middle of a diner, giving away my intentions.”

“I was going to get that information direct from the source,” she says, a little less defensively this time.

“Riiight,” I drawl out. “Because he was so forthcoming the first time you peppered him with questions. We know he’s involved, but we need to figure out how. We need to figure out who he is before we engage him. Together, Daisy. Not you. Not me. We.”

Daisy walks past me and whispers, “I just want this all to be over.”

She opens the door for Vinny, who is sitting on the steps, saying, “It’s safe to come in now. No shots have been fired.”

“The night is still young,” he jests, blowing his warm breath into his cupped hands.