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“I’ll be back soon. Promise.” I whisper into the phone just outside the FBI building in Los Angeles, my head on a swivel just in case. Banger and Wild Man are inside talking to Agent Stiles about those BTD fuckers who tried to kill him. “How’s Hope?”
“She’s fine,” Sophie whispers. “Finally asleep after someone smothered her in his big broad chest and then left before she was fully asleep.”
I smile. My little girl loves nothing more than cuddling with her daddy. “Not my fault. On driver duty this morning,” I tell her without telling her anything else. Ace’s orders, not because we don’t trust the women but because today’s mission is strictly need-to-know.
“You’re being safe?” The worry in her voice has the unique ability to make me feel one hundred feet tall and like a cared-for little boy.
“Always, babe. Gotta get back home to my girls. I promise.”
“Okay. I don’t want to distract you; I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Okay. Tell my girls I love them.”
“Girls?”
“Yeah,” I say. “You and Hope.”
“Love you, too,” she sighs and ends the call before I can tell her that I love her even more.
I keep my head on a constant swivel because that’s why I’m here, but also because there’s static electricity in the air, charged like some shit is about to go down. I can’t describe it. I felt this way too often in the SEALs right before a mission, a kill shot, a raid. The same tingling that reminds me to stay on my game.
Alert.
Focused.
Ready.
It’s weird as fuck being out here in the wild without mykutte,but Ace and Dix thought it was a smart move not to broadcast our cooperation with the Feds in case any allies or enemies spotted us, and word got out. I lean against the black SUV casually, looking left and right. For anyone watching closely, I look like a driver waiting for a passenger. Nothing more.
But the tingling intensifies, and I push off the truck, taking in my surroundings a little more carefully, noting the couple strolling down the street hand in hand. They smile up at each other and talk softly, ignoring everything around them but one another.
There are a few old guys in the park across the street sitting at a covered table playing chess or checkers, taking a beat to watch the women jogging in tight, brightly colored clothing.
Cars line both sides of the street, almost none of the meters are expired and there’s a lull in traffic, except for a dark blue sedan that I chalk up to lost tourists based on the out of state plates.
“Goddamn, that was rough!” Banger’s voice sounds, and I turn to face the building again. He’s shaking his head and wearing a lopsided grin. “Stiles doesn’t fuck around. I’m surprised she didn’t ask me how long my dick is.”
“Don’t worry,” Wild Man says, clapping Banger on the back. “He was about two minutes away from whipping it out to show her anyway.”
“She acts like I’m still some young gangbanger.” He’s shaking his head, his smile is there but fading, anger darkening his gaze. “Like this is some long con, or maybe I brought the shit on myself.”
“She’s just making sure you don’t make her look like a fool. Tough for women in a job like hers,” Wild Man offers with a sympathetic shrug. “For what it’s worth, I think she believes you.”
“Yeah?” That one word makes Banger look like the kid he’d been when he ran with the Bloodthirsty Devils.
“Yeah, man. She was just pushing you hard to make sure you were believable. Cops do it all the time.”
I watch Banger carefully for a long minute to make sure he’s all right. “It couldn’t have been easy, reliving all that shit.”
“Fuck no, it wasn’t. But,” he sighs. “It’s done though, and hopefully the Feds will help us eliminate those fuckers sooner rather than later.” He lets out a long, slow breath with the weight of the world on it. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
“Let’s stop atFor Goodness Cakes,” Wild Man says. “I need some sugar. And a few pastries, too.” The teasing glint in his eyes makes us laugh.
My laughter fades as I round the black rental and stop to watch the same dark blue sedan roll back up the street. “Guys,” I bark and nod toward the street.
“Jumpin’ at your own shadow?” Banger shakes his head and slips in behind the passenger seat, slumping down and closing his eyes, the first real sign of the effect that remembering the shooting took on him.
I stare at him for a long minute before I slip behind the steering wheel. “Not fucking likely, brother. That’s the second time that car rolled up this street.” I start the engine, and Wild Man jumps in beside me.
