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“Rainman, boss. Dustin Hoffman with the toothpicks.” Turner chuckled.
It was only a shared understanding of a movie reference, but the look Turner and Lake exchanged made it feel like an inside joke, and much like it had when she was sharing smiles with Fitz, this feeling irritated me beyond belief as well. “Never saw it.” I ignored the small gasp of disbelief from the back seat.
I went back to evaluating for threats as we finally headed out of the city in a sea of traffic. The surveillance detection route we’d taken had been more than a hassle before we’d been able to actually set off. As the traffic became less congested, the cars spacing out more, I felt the tension ease up slightly. I was always on guard, but those times when traffic was too tight, elevators overpacked, or any other normal situation that required close proximity to others, I felt myself almost expecting attacks from every angle. It was why I’d stayed back in office the majority of the time, taking the business reins and letting my three other partners do the field work.
I’d never quite lost the struggle as I kept tight to clients at award shows, parties, galas, and any event that suffocated me. So I’d transitioned to being the face of Remington Security, my leadership abilities more than enough to keep the people under our employ busy and thriving. Aiden Cabot, Fitzpatrick O’Rourke, and Jack Kasey had been with me since BUD/S and, even after we’d lost Grady, they were family. They also held equal parts in the company, yet no one seemed to shift from their rank once we’d all been discharged. That meant that even if they weren’t active duty anymore, my three brothers and business partners still regarded me as their commanding officer. And since Cabot, Fitz and Kasey all felt the need to call me boss, none of the men who worked for us really understood that the four of us had an equal share in the company.
I had no illusions that my need to take over and make myself the face of RP had little to do with the desire for the role and more of a need to hide the part of me still fractured. If any of them really understood the internal shredding that my mind put me through any time I felt control slipping, they would have had me in therapy the second I’d stepped off the plane. We all came back changed and haunted, but I’d never let them see the sheer panic that gripped my gut during relatively easy situations.
I wasn’t stupid enough to miss the blinking neon signs telling me I had PTSD, but I also knew I wasn’t in a place to show vulnerability. The men by my side and the path we’d all chosen made life too busy and complicated for me to deal with diving into my own fucking trauma. Besides, I’d pushed it down, saving it for… when? When would ever be a good time to let one's life unravel in hopes of a head shrink attempting to put it back together? I had too much to do, too many people who needed me at my strongest. Eventually I’d make time to figure my shit out. Eventually.
“Can I have my phone back?” Lake’s voice rang out in the silent SUV, ripping me from my self reflection and distracting me enough to not realize I was glaring at her through the mirror in response. After several moments of silence, she let out a childish huff and glared back at me. “MayI have my phone back?”
“No.”
In all honesty, I had no right to have her phone at all, and it was a fact driven home in the tense set of Turner’s shoulders at my response even if he wouldn’t open his mouth to say a word against it. I hadn’t meant to keep her phone in the first place. Hell, I hadn’t even meant to snatch it from her on the plane. I just had. Fucking reactions.
I’d wanted to keep her from spreading word about her situation originally. Lake Harrington couldn’t blow her nose without her or someone in her circle making a social media post about it, so I wasn’t all that thrilled with leaving her access to announce her locations to everyone. Not to mention the fact that Bailey Voss and Monica De Carlo had been constantly texting and threatening Lake to answer them about ditching Hong Kong and them. Kasey had been relaying each text and voicemail and with their venomous hold on Lake, I’d kept the phone off and in my pocket even if my tech genius had run interference and effectively blocked them from communicating with her for now.
Another reaction. One without reason or logic. Lake was an adult, and it didn’t matter to anyone, least of all me, who she surrounded herself with. I’d tried to make excuses to myself that their level of backstabbing made them potential threats, but anyone with eyes could see that the only threat those two posed was to an account balance. Their threat to my client ran closer to emotional repercussions and that was out of my scope of support in this particular case. So why was her phone still off and in my pocket? Because those vipers would find a way to make contact and say something vicious and it would hurt her. I knew without a doubt that I would react without rational thought when it came to stopping that. Best to just keep the entire thing from blowing up before it even could.
Lake opened her mouth, ready to argue when the entire energy of the SUV’s interior became tense. Turner had gone damn near motionless except for his hand subtly moving the wheel as we drove. My attention had been on Lake when the change had occurred, and I was playing silent catch up while taking in the environment around us. It was a second later that there was the distinct sound of a call unmuting as Jones’ voice came through the car’s speakers.
“We’ve got a visitor.” The deep gravel of his voice managed to put our passenger on high alert as Fitz answered the affirmative and Turner unmuted the call from them to confirm.
“Black Prius, three cars back. Originally thought it might have been a tail back in the city, but they backed off and we’d lost them.” Turner let out a breath as his eyes flicked back to the car that we hadn’t lost as well as he’d thought.
I shot a look back to Lake who outwardly appeared bored as she leaned against her door, eyes cast toward the sky, but the slight bite to her bottom lip revealed her unease. That and the anxiously bobbing leg that she apparently didn’t notice.
“Jones. You and Minor give us breathing room, then approach. Kasey, get them back-up.” My voice held no trace of the anxiety swirling in my stomach, trying to keep my mind from flashing back as the SUV became suffocatingly small.
“Home team or visitor?” Kasey’s voice sounded just as calm.
“Home, we don’t have time for anything else. We also don’t have time to go into details, so figure it out.”
“On it.”
I was watching the car through the mirror, attention honed in on the target. It was easier to turn all my focus on it and block out the past until a head of perfectly done brown hair popped up in the space between me and our driver. Turner let out a “Christ” of surprise under his breath.
“What did you mean breathing room?” Neither of us responded, but after a moment Turner gave a nod toward the rear view mirror. Instead of being any type of covert, she completely turned in her seat and stared out the back window in time to see the identical black SUV containing Jones and Minor fall back fluidly. It wasn’t long before they’d let traffic weave before them and were directly in front of the Prius. She watched as they faded further back and effortlessly stopped the car from passing them as the rest of the entourage sped forward.
Even though my mind was working to keep calm in the face of anything that felt similar to my past, my bones hummed with the excitement of a physical person stepping out of the shadows finally to give us an idea of the monster behind the letter. We’d needed a break like this, and once my men had hands on a suspect, we’d be that much closer to stopping the threat. We’d gained miles of distance in silence before Jones’ voice was back through the speakers, making Lake squeak in surprise.
“Lost ‘em, boss.”
“How?” I forced the word out as the temperature around us seemed to drop to dangerous levels. We couldn’t lose our only fucking lead when my best men were chasing it down. It was a failure I refused to accept.
“The Pruis took an exit onto side streets, ran a red light and when we followed, some dumb fuck PD pulledusover after a few more blocks. Apparently he didn’t see the Prius, and by the time the others who weren’t on fucking lunch joined us, the car was gone. We’ll catch up to you.” The last words sounded hesitant, and I knew why. There was a healthy dose of fear within all the men at RP when it came to me. He didn’t want to let me down and knew this was a fuck up I would be livid with. And I was. But not at Jones or Minor. They’d been in an impossible position having to heed the law, and it was that law that had fucked up their chances.
“Working on it.” This time, it was Kasey’s voice breaking through the mumbled curses coming from the other men on the line.
“I’m guessing Fast and Furious wasn’t just a coincidence then.” Lake sounded winded, like she’d run a marathon. I looked over my shoulder to her in the back seat and frowned.
Was she about to detach again? I hadn’t seen the beginnings of her ordeal earlier and had no idea what I was looking for to clue me in on her emotional state. She locked gazes with me, and I watched as she layered her defenses one by one until she was scowling right back at me. And fuck, I‘d never ached to kiss a scowl off a woman’s face more. She looked fierce, positioned in the middle of the back seat, back rigid, chin out, and defiance rolling off her in waves. The heat in her cheeks and neck were evident by the pink tint accompanying them. She looked like a fucking warrior, and my fingers clenched the arm of my seat; the only reaction I’d allow myself to her in this moment.
The fact that I wanted to touch or taste this woman was completely due to the adrenaline. Obviously. I was willing to put any and every reaction in this moment on that. Although, I’d never felt the urge to tangle limbs with any other client after situations pumping much more adrenaline through me. Like that club opening that ended in a shoot-out while on the job with that female rapper. Or the stalker who’d tried to stab me to get to the actress he was “in love” with. Adrenaline had very much been present, but the desire to taste either of those women? That hadn’t been there at all.
Didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let myself dwell on it a second longer. With a sharp nod at her to let her know the situation was handled, though not answering her earlier question, I turned back to Turner and said through clenched teeth, “Get there, now.”
