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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Savage

“Say it,” I order Asher.

Asher’s expression tightens. “A high-ranking admiral with the US Army.”

Holy fuck, and there it is, the dirty laundry of my world, and her father’s, sprawled all over the living room floor, dirtying up a morning otherwise filled with sex, tacos, and Starbucks. Seconds tick by, heavy fucking seconds before Candace folds her arms in front of her and turns only to run smack into me. I catch her arms. “Easy, baby.”

“I was looking for you.” Her voice trembles with the reality of what she’s learning about her father and me, but I don’t sense accusation, judgment, or anger in her. Or even withdrawal.

“I’m right here. I’m always going to be right here.”

“We both know what that assassination was. We both know it’s about my mother. What if Gabriel knows? What if—”

“We don’t know what that was at all. We have no reason to believe that had anything to do with your mother.”

She eyes Asher. “Do we?”

“I found no connection to your mother,” Asher confirms. “Nothing obvious or direct.”

Candace’s eyes whip back to me. “Nothing obvious means nothing.”

“When I went to work for the black ops project, your father was in charge. We ran tough missions, missions the US couldn’t officially operate. High-risk missions and yes a few went to the heart of DC.”

“Our own admiral?” she demands. “Surely not.”

I don’t hold back. The truth rules. The truth has to prevail. “If he was a spy, fuck yes. And the admiral might have actually been our man, not our target. The mission doesn’t always go as planned.”

“Right,” she says, and she immediately rotates back to Asher. “Can you get my father’s phone records for the weeks leading up to and after my mother’s death?”

“Those are old records,” he replies. “And I doubt he was using his phone for that call. More likely a government-issued number we need to know, to search.”

“Or a burner,” I add. “We used a lot of burner phones.” I lift a chin at Asher. “Was there a potential enemy combatant present in DC that day?”

“We’ll have to talk about the definition of ‘enemy combatant’ for me to answer that and only after I do research,” Asher replies, tossing an empty taco wrapper in a bag. “But we might not have to travel in that direction. I think we know why the admiral was a target. He was on a targeted government committee with Gabriel.”

“Gabriel?” Candace asks. “Unbelievable. Obviously, my father and Gabriel knew each other far better than I knew they did when I met Gabriel or after. I’m not sure what to make of that. I mean my father didn’t tell me.”

Just as he didn’t tell her he recruited me for his special ops team either, I think, but this is a rabbit hole better discussed alone and after tonight.

“I’ve got more to share,” Asher says, grabbing another taco, while Adam, Adrian, and Smith are stuffing their faces so damn fast there will be nothing left. Assholes. “One of the targets on the data drive you gave me,” Asher continues, motioning to me, “was a private businessman that had worked with the CIA as a consultant. He was flagged as a spy in the CIA database but Aaron, our man, the ex-CIA agent I talked about, did some digging. There’s something fishy about the whole thing. The common denominator between your target and the admiral in DC is—”

“Gabriel,” Candace says.

“The CIA,” Asher corrects. “Aaron is working to connect them to Gabriel for us.” He’s back to me now. “That mission,” Asher adds, “was before you joined Tag, Savage. If that tells you anything.”

“It doesn’t,” I say. “I was told everything I did was for the better of our country from day one but the missions were all shitty. They just got dirtier after Tag took over the operation.”

Candace looks between Asher and I. “Does any of this help us put Gabriel in jail?”

Asher holds up a finger, sips his coffee and then answers. “Our best bet in my damn good opinion is that we link Gabriel with your father. Then we use that with the message you have threatening him, and we might have enough for an attempted murder charge. Plus, we have the conversation he had with Pocher about getting rid of you.”

“Fuck, man,” Adam grumbles. “Can you be a little more sensitive?”

“I’m fine,” Candace says, waving him off and getting back on topic. “Is that enough?”

“That’s not enough,” I say. “Not even close to enough to take him down.”

“He’s running for office,” Asher argues. “This ends his campaign and forces him to protect himself. And in the spotlight, he won’t be able to kill Candace or her father, and he’ll have no reward for doing so.”

“You’re not listening to half this story, man,” I snap. “Pocher doesn’t leave loose ends. If we go this route, he might decide pencil dick Honest Gabe is a liability and kill him for us, but he’ll come for Candace and her father, too.”

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