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Just thinking about it now is getting me hard, so I shift to my side to rearrange myself. Not going to lie… memories like that are making it hard to like the travel aspect of this job.
“… on the east side through that gate. What do you think, Kellen?”
I blink, pull the binoculars back up, no clue what was just said. “Come again?”
“Dude,” Cage drawls. “Zone out much?”
“Fuck off,” I growl back—all in good fun.
He snickers. “Not fretting over your crazy ex, are you?”
“Definitely not her,” I mutter as I keep watch through the binoculars.
“That implies you are fretting over someone,” Malik chimes in. “Spill.”
“It’s no one,” I assert.
“Spill,” Jackson says.
I curse them all. “We got a job to do.”
“Spill, motherfucker,” Cage demands.
“Spill, motherfucker,” Jackson and Malik echo with laughs.
Exasperated, I give them what they want. “Fine. I met a woman named Abby and have been spending time with her. She’s great. I like her. The end. Now can we concentrate on our mission?”
“Kidnappers aren’t going anywhere,” Malik taunts lazily. “Give us more.”
“Listen, just because you can’t stop talking about your engagement doesn’t mean we’re all sharers.”
“Hey… Anna’s the love of my life,” Malik says smoothly. “I’ll talk about her all the damn time, and nothing will stop me.”
“Kellen’s just trying to deflect,” Cage interjects. “He’s new to the team. Doesn’t get we’re all bros who share. We might need to ease him into it.”
I can’t help but laugh. The guys all share about their significant others, and I give them hell about it, but I truly have nothing to hide. Abby isn’t someone I’d ever sweep under the carpet.
“She’s Bubba’s vet. I met her last week when he wasn’t feeling good.”
“Is she hot?” Cage asks.
I ignore the question. He’s not asking because he really wants to know. He likes to yank my chain. “She’s a spitfire. Within twenty-four hours after meeting her, I was harboring property she’d stolen and then bailing her out of jail on another matter.”
There’s dead silence over the comms, and I grin as I pull my binoculars back up.
It’s Cage who finally speaks. “Okay, forget about the hot question. You’ve got to give us more details if you’re dating a criminal.”
I laugh. “It’s not like that at all.”
I fill the guys in on Levi Hellman and Abby’s crusade against him. I don’t hold back that we’ve spent a lot of time together since then, and that I’d like them all to meet her at some point when we get back.
“She sounds great, man,” Malik says, happiness for me evident in his voice. They all know the shit I went through with Adriana.
“I say we have a get-together when we get back,” Cage suggests. “The four of us and our ladies. Jaime makes these incredible trays of meat and cheese… what do you call them?”
“Charcuterie,” Jackson replies. He’d be the one to know those fancy words as he’s going to be a member of a royal family before too long.
Speaking of which, “When are you popping the big question?”
“Dude… I’ve already popped it.”
“Wait!” Cage says as Malik echoes, “Seriously?”
“Yeah… I mean, sort of. We talked about me being a prince and living in Bretaria with her, eventually.”
I frown at the lack of pomp. She’s a fucking princess, after all. “Without a ring?”
“The ring is in the making, and she doesn’t know anything about it. I’ll formally propose when I get it, but I don’t know anyone who doesn’t talk about marriage to some extent first.”
“That’s true,” Malik agrees. “Anna and I talked about it before I proposed.”
“Jaime and I didn’t,” Cage points out.
I snort. “Too busy getting drunk in Vegas.”
“Whatever,” Cage grumbles. “Back to my original idea… let’s plan a thing when we get back. We can do it at our place.”
“Only if there’s charcuterie.” Malik laughs.
“And those fancy dessert pastries.” Jackson cackles.
A female voice comes across the comms—Bebe Grimshaw, our resident hacker who is back in Pittsburgh monitoring us—and I can hear the smirk within her inflection. “If you girls are done trying to schedule your manicures, I suggest you put your eyes back on the task. You’re supposed to be taking photos and video for me so we can pass it on to the client.”
I snort and lower the binoculars, picking up the small camera with a mega lens that Bebe created for high-powered, zoomed-in photos and video. I get several of the PKS, the gate on that side, as well as close-ups of each guard. They’re wearing ragtag clothing and don’t appear to be particularly vigilant as they stand around smoking cigarettes and laughing.
A rescue could probably be pulled off without much effort to overpower those on the outside. But it still doesn’t mean that the kidnapped victim on the inside wouldn’t be killed. I suppose all we can do is hope that the father will do the right thing and pay the ransom for his kid.
