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“Shit, I started talking to Mason, and I totally forgot. Want me to go back?”
“Nah. I’ll go. You settle down and get comfy.”
I try my best to get comfortable, scooting my butt from side to side, turning my head, lying against the window frame, but nothing is even remotely comfortable. Using my thumb, I press the round button on the side of my armrest and throw my body back to recline my seat as much as I can. It moves about an eighth of an inch before the mechanism tells me it won’t go any further.
Griffin comes back holding a few different bags of chips and two sandwiches. He hands me half of his loot before he sits back down and unwraps his half. I open one of the bags of chips and start to munch on the crunchy snack. I still don’t have my appetite back fully, but at least this doesn’t taste like a cardboard box.
“What did you and Mason talk about?” Griffin asks between taking huge bites of his sandwich.
“Basically, clearing the air and making sure we are on the same page moving forward,” I explain. “Why? Scared we were talking about you behind your back?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“We did talk about Dallas. Mason offered to talk to him. He feels bad about how he reacted.”
Griffin’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Interesting. So, he would be okay with you dating Dallas.”
“It seems that way.” I don’t mention the comment Mason made about Griffin. It doesn’t really matter what my brother thinks because when he finds out that I want to be with both of them, I doubt he will be so open to the thought.
I’m not sure when I finally fall to sleep, but when my eyes flutter open the next time, I’m cuddled up against Griffin’s shoulder, slobbering on his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind; he’s asleep, snoring softly. The cabin is dark and quiet. As I look around, I realize almost everyone is sleeping. I twist around to check out Dallas, whose eyes are also closed, his head leaning against the window frame. I wish he would talk to me instead of pulling away. Hopefully, once we are back in the states, things will settle down, and we can move forward with what we have.
All we have to do is get out of Russia alive.
27
DALLAS
Well. Isn’t this just like a scene from a family sitcom? All we’re missing is the emotional music swelling in the background.
It isn’t that I’m unhappy everybody seems to be getting along better now. Their bickering was beginning to work my last nerve. I hope nobody expects me to muster a smile, though. She shouldn’t be here. I do not want her here. A detailed list of everything that could go wrong on this mission runs through my head the way it has been since Mason gave in to her demands.
I understand why she feels this is important. But I don’t have to like it.
She tries to catch my eye as we’re disembarking from the plane once we’re fully armed, but I’m not ready to do that. Not when there’s something she doesn’t know. I meet Mason’s gaze over the top of her head, and he nods firmly, his jaw ticking when he does. I couldn’t give him the answers he demanded when I told him I’m leaving, but it changes nothing. Once we’re through with this mission, I’m gone. She doesn’t know what she wants. She’s confused, and it would be way too tempting to give in. Because I want her, I want her with all of me, and I’m not sure even a hardened son of a bitch like myself could handleher coming to her senses and realizing the mistake she made by welcoming two men into her life. It’s better to take myself out of the equation before that happens.
She doesn’t know it. But she will soon enough. First things first: getting out of here alive, Natalie included.
A series of vehicles wait for us, and we waste no time splitting into teams as decided en route. I’m with Mason and Natalie, while Griffin takes another truck with a few of the SWAT team members. Along the way, we check our headsets, confirming there’s a clear line of communication. It’s dark, the roads barely lit, but the men driving the trucks are familiar with the terrain and know precisely where we are going.
“No taking risks,” Mason orders in a tight growl, and I know he isn’t talking to me. “Got it?”
Natalie doesn’t look up from her Sig, which she holsters before retorting, “Then none of us should have come here because this whole thing is a risk.” My chest warms when I hear her sarcastic quip. She’s getting better. She is becoming herself again. I’ll have to take that with me when I go, leaning on that knowledge whenever I miss her. At least I know she’s recovering. What happens tonight should further aid in that recovery. She’ll have closure, and now that it seems she and Mason are on speaking terms again, it’s the last piece she’s missing to make her whole.
I’m certainly not one of those pieces. She only thinks I am.
It isn’t long before the frozen nothing we came from gives way to civilization. For the sake of maintaining an element of surprise, each driver took a slightly different route. There isn’t much that can announce an impending attack, like a cluster of almost identical vehicles rolling through town. “Three minutes,” the driver announces.
“What’s the latest intel?” I ask Mason, who’s currently reading a message on his phone.
“He’s been hiding out at this brothel since his arrival. Fucking coward,” he adds with a snort. “Using a bunch of sex workers to shield him. Pathetic.”
“Not for long.” Natalie is grimly determined, poised at the edge of her seat, prepared to spring. I want to reach out to her, to calm her down. It would get me nowhere, and I don’t need to send mixed signals now, either. Not when I’m close to shattering her illusions. I can only watch as her knee bounces, betraying her anxiety. Not that it’s much of a secret, anyway. I can’t imagine anyone walking headfirst into a situation like this without their nerves being strained to the point of shredding.
“All units converging,” the driver tells us, and we take the opportunity to double check our weapons. Again, I find myself holding back, wishing I could reach for her, caress her, beg her not to do anything stupid in there. The world is a better place with her in it—that much I know to my very core. I have no right to speak to her that way. What kind of man would I be if I did?
I’m almost glad there is no time to reflect on this before all four vehicles converge in front of a nondescript building on the edge of town, flanked on either side by nightclubs where it seems the clientele isn’t what you’d call high class. I have the pleasure of witnessing a man stumble from one of them and vomit all over the ground, his own shoes, and the side of the building before staggering off. It looks like he wasn’t the first to paint the sidewalk tonight, either.
Mason’s voice rings out in my headset. “On my count.”
