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But I do it, push it all away. It’s what I was trained to do.
“Then let’s go,” I say fiercely. “Jennifer….”
When I turn to her, she waves a hand at me, tears in her eyes. “It can wait. Everything has to. Please get her back, Jamie.”
I almost smile. She couldn’t have said anything better. I think my woman knows what I need and how to support me as I’ll always support her.
She’s just given me my mission, and I’ve got the best motivation a man could have.
Kelly matters to my woman.
And anything that matters to my fucking woman is off-limits.
“We’ve got a civilian to save, Jamie,” Peggy says, striding over. “Enough daydreaming.”
I nod, focusing completely now. Nothing but the mission.
I’ll pass out and die before I fail.
It’s the same every time, this coldness, this ice.
Except there’s an ember now, a glowing warmth, cracking it, making me think of what ifs.
What if I don’t make it back to Jennifer?
“Let’s go,” I snarl, moving quickly for the stairs.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Jennifer
I stand at the front window, Lucifer in my arms, watching as Jamie and Peggy drive through the gates. Two of the guards quickly close it behind them, and Benny lets out a soft whine from my feet.
“He hardly ever does that in front of Jamie,” Patrick says from behind me.
I turn, smiling at the older man. He appears to be around sixty, if I had to guess, with sharp eyes and a quick smile.
Peggy mentioned he was a mathematician, a professor, I think…it’s hard to remember everything, events rushing around.
“Should they be going alone?” I ask.
Patrick sighs. “They would’ve taken men if they needed them. I guess Peggy thinks they’ll be less obvious if there’s only Jamie.”
“Are you worried about her?” I ask.
Patrick sighs, running a hand through his hair. Lucifer squirms at the same time, and I put him down. He’s so funny, the way he spins around, tongue out as he wriggles from side to side. He wants me to pick him up again.
“He likes you,” Patrick says. “It normally takes him some time to warm to people…and yes, Jennifer, I do worry about Peggy. But she always comes home.”
Always, I repeat in my mind, looking out the window again at the rising sunlight.
I have to believe it will be the same this time.
“Do you want some breakfast?” Patrick asks. “Or maybe some coffee?”
“Coffee, please,” I say, knowing I won’t be able to relax anyway. “Thank you, Patrick. For everything. You didn’t have to let me stay here.”
“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of ours.”
He leaves, and I stare even harder at the fence and the street beyond it as if that will make them come back quicker.
My thoughts jump back to just before Peggy came running down the stairs. It took me ages to summon the courage to ask about that family comment because I couldn’t stop thinking…what if he was thinking of a family with Kelly? What if that’s why he slipped?
But then I asked him, and I knew I was wrong. He was talking about something else.
Or is that just wishful thinking?
I can’t dwell on that now.
Kelly, be safe. Please just be okay.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Jamie
“Junior’s guys are all fiends,” Peggy says, tapping away on her laptop as I drive down the winding road, bordered on both sides by woodland.
We’ve been hitting it hard since we left the city.
Ninety minutes and we’re almost there.
“A holiday home owned by a mime couple,” Peggy says, laughing gruffly. “It’s like Cormac chose that front as a joke.”
“Maybe he did,” I say. “Cormac was always funnier than his son.”
“Fiends, I said,” Peggy says fiercely. “Cormac, the other gangs, they had some respect. Except for….”
“We don’t even know if Junior’s telling the truth about that,” I snarl, knowing she’s referencing what Junior said.
Cormac Senior ordered the hit on Matt.
“I know Junior,” I go on. “He spent his teens doing nothing but acting tough. I bet he got high one night, or drunk, or whatever….”
Peggy nods, picking up in a musing tone. “Yes, and then he killed his dad in an act of rage.”
“And now he’s trying to deal with the consequences, but he has no idea what he’s doing. He hasn’t lived this life. Kidnapping Kelly? So I’m not a threat? It’s something only Junior could think of. There are a hundred other ways he could’ve handled this better.”
“Yeah,” Peggy murmurs. “But he’s Cormac Junior. He’s the spoiled prince.”
I sigh, taking the turn and slowing the car down a little. The terrain’s getting a bit bumpier now, the car jostling a little.
“The handoff point is two miles ahead,” Peggy says.
“Handoff point,” I repeat, my stomach churning.
“It’s like I said,” Peggy goes on, tapping more keys.
She’s talking to her guy, Junior’s guy, too. If her intel and guidance hadn’t saved my life more times than I can count, I’d be doubting her right now.
