by Nicole Helm
“Yes. I’ve always been aware that could happen. Kill you. Take me. But then what? My parents warned me to be on alert, more so than usual. That’s what I was getting from the PO box. A message from them. A warning. They knew something was off, but they didn’t tell me to hide. They just told me to be careful.”
“They thought they could take care of it?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was only a feeling—no fact. You’d understand that, wouldn’t you? Sometimes they just feel like something is off and they don’t know why, they just know it is.” She looked at him with heartbreaking eyes.
He had to stay strong against those eyes. “Yeah, I understand that.”
“It feels like something is off. I know I’m no spy, or...whatever you call yourself. But it doesn’t add up. Not cleanly. And it should.”
Holden tried to look at things from her perspective. Someone who’d probably known from an early age she could be a target like this. It made sense to trust her judgment on the matter.
“We’ve got tech on our end—bigger than what you have here. We could try to get a message to them.”
She shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. For them.” She sucked in a breath. “They’d do anything to protect me. And have. I don’t know the details, but I know they’ve sacrificed to keep me safe. I have to do the same for them. I just have to.”
Holden didn’t say what he wanted to. But I don’t have to.
“I’ve done the one thing I’m allowed to do if there’s an emergency.”
“Do you hear yourself? Allowed to do.” He tried to tamp down his anger over the position her parents had put her in. He knew what it was like to be naive and young and unprotected. How easy it was for so many bad things to happen. “You’re a grown woman. Act like it. Make your own choices.”
Her expression hardened. “Believe me. I do.”
He wanted to argue some more. Or maybe just order her around so that he could do his job and stop dealing with all these conflicting emotions that had more to do with who he’d been before North Star, before the Sons. A person from a very long time ago who didn’t exist anymore.
He’d left all that behind. But she’d somehow brought it all back to life inside him.
Enough.
His phone chimed, and he pulled it out to look at the message. Clean. Meet?
They’d sent Gabriel. By Holden’s opinion, Gabriel would make a good replacement for Reece. He was still a little young, and Holden would give him a few more challenging missions before he actually put him in a lead position, but it was good Shay had chosen him to lead the sweep.
“I’m going up,” he told Willa. “You’ll stay here.”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
“You’re staying here.”
“I need to take care of my animals. I can set things up so they’re okay for a few days on their own if I have to, but you have to let me do that first.”
He knew he shouldn’t be weak, shouldn’t give in, but he also understood fully that she had all those animals and animal figurines because she couldn’t have people in her life. She’d filled the void with things that couldn’t be used against her or her parents.
“We can’t take chances. You have to stick with me until we have a better idea of what’s going on. Regardless of your animals.”
“You’re not my boss, Holden. I didn’t ask for you or your group. This is my life you’ve crashed into. I don’t owe you diddly squat.”
Holden didn’t know why that hurt. She was right. She hadn’t asked for this, and technically she had very little to do with what he was here for. He was here to stop a killer—not protect Willa, but to stop the person trying to hurt her. There was a gray area there in how to do it, but his job wasn’t her.
“Whether you asked for it or not, my assignment isn’t fulfilled if you’re dead. So, I’m going to ask you to do as I say. I’m going to ask you to trust me to keep you safe while we stop the man who’s after you—however he’s after you.”
She seemed to consider that, watching him with green eyes he knew with a glaring clarity that would haunt him no matter the outcome of this mission. She closed the computer and flicked a switch that had the lights dimming and the sound of the generator going silent.
“I could trust you, Holden, but trust is a two-way street.” She turned to one of the doors and flipped a combination on the lock. It creaked open, and she pulled it the rest of the way open. “If we go through here, we can get in through the house and not disturb Creed. Have your man meet us at the front door. East side of the house.”
She didn’t wait for him to agree. She simply slid into the dark tunnel. Holden blew out a frustrated breath and texted Gabriel. Then he followed her into the dark.
Chapter Eight
Willa half wished she could stay in the dark tunnel that would lead her into the basement of her house. Here in the dark, her life was not in danger. There was no team. Her parents were off somewhere safe.
And she didn’t already trust a man who distrusted her. A man she barely knew. A man she shouldn’t trust, because this could all be an elaborate lie.
But she couldn’t work herself up to that kind of suspicion. So, she’d just have to trust him and hope for the best. Hope to hear from her parents soon.
“This is some movie-level stuff,” Holden said from behind her in the tunnel. She’d unlocked the door to the basement before she’d shut down the computer in the main room so when she reached it, she only had to pull it open.
She didn’t bother to respond to Holden. Maybe it was movie-level stuff. But it was also her life. The only life she’d ever known. Whatever attempt her parents had made at normal had been mostly before she’d been old enough to remember.
So, she’d grown up with security measures and over-the-top tech, all in the name of keeping her safe.
Everyone always trying to keep her safe.
She shoved away the bitterness. It didn’t do her any good. She waited for Holden to follow her through the door before she closed it back up. She set the lock from the outside, then pulled the false wall in front of it.
The basement was dark, but Holden had pulled up the flashlight on his phone. He pointed it at the wall, where you could no longer tell there was a door.
“Serious movie-level stuff,” he muttered. “Gabriel is waiting on the porch.”
Gabriel. “Do you use real names?” Her parents didn’t. Code names, usually. Even with people they worked closely with on the same mission, she didn’t think they ever used their real names. Even with her, they were simply Mom and Dad.
She thought about Holden saying his parents had died when he’d been a teenager. He’d had those years of normalcy, supposedly. And still tragedy had touched his life.
None of which mattered. All that mattered was figuring out who’d shot at them. She would be part of it. She would not be hidden away like her parents always forced her to be. Not as long as they didn’t respond to her message.
She would not hide in case they were in trouble. She would not cower just because things didn’t make sense. They’d trained her to fight. Taught her to be self-sufficient.
No one would push her away from the opportunity of helping them if they were in danger.
She moved through the basement. Holden used his light to follow her, but she knew the way in the dark. When he finally responded to her question about real names, his voice was clipped. Detached.
“Yes. Most of us. For the most part, whoever we are or were disappears once we join the group. So our names are safe. Not really tied to anyone.”
They used their real names. But disappeared when they joined the group. She had to assume they weren’t tied to anyone because his group collected people who didn’t have anyone. People like him who’d lost his family.
They climbed the stairs in silence, and Holden gently pulled her b
ack before she could open the door. He slid it open himself, inch by inch, leading with his gun. He held a hand out behind him—a silent order to stay where she was until he made sure it was safe.
She frowned a little but remained where she was. Being involved, making sure her parents were okay didn’t mean she had to take risks or chances. Sometimes she’d have to rely on Holden’s experience.
And sometimes he’d have to rely on hers. Whether he realized it now or not.
Eventually he motioned her forward, and in silence she followed him through the house and to the front door. He shined his light on the bunny doorstop that lay askew.
“Did you move that when you broke into my house?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yeah,” he replied. “What the hell are those things?”
“Doorstops. The house is old. In the spring and summer if I want the doors open, I have to use the stops.”
He shook his head. “Why rabbits?”
“What’s wrong with rabbits?”
“They’re rodents, Willa.”
“What’s wrong with rodents?”
Holden muttered something unintelligible and eased the heavy door open. The storm door opened from the other side, and a man slid in the opening.
“Parker,” he greeted Holden.
“Gabe. What have you got?”
“No sign of the shooter. Based on our scan, he acted alone. There is a problem though.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“The shells we found? They don’t go in the gun we’re looking for.”
It was strange. Appearance-wise Holden and this Gabriel were night and day—dark and light—and yet they felt the same standing there. It was in the posture, or the air of power, or something. You knew they were trained to handle whatever came their way.
You were, too.
But one thing she’d learned—not from her parents, but from experience—was it was best when she was underestimated. So, she didn’t tell them her theory. And when Gabriel and Holden went outside to “check the perimeter”—which she knew translated as “have a talk without the woman”—Willa got to a little work of her own.
* * *
“WHERE’D SHE COME FROM?” Gabriel wanted to know as they walked the perimeter of the house. Much as Holden trusted Gabriel and the other team members, there were some things he wanted to see for himself. Like where the shells had been. Like the shells themselves.
“What do you mean?” Holden asked, searching the dark for some sign of...something. Who shot at someone, missed and then just disappeared?
It didn’t add up. Which Willa had pointed out very astutely.
“Nice-looking.”
Holden straightened like a shot. Based on the way the other man’s eyes widened, he assumed his face was arranged in a way that screamed murder. He tried to school it into something softer. The sharp disapproval of a teacher, rather than...wanting to strangle him with his bare hands.
“She’s a victim in a situation we’re trying to mitigate, Saunders.”
“I didn’t say we weren’t,” he returned, but the words were careful. Measured. “Just commentary.”
“Commentary is best kept to yourself unless it’s relevant to the assignment.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was some sarcasm in the sir, but that didn’t bother Holden any. Made him feel a little old, when he wasn’t. Well, maybe by North Star standards he was. Especially now that Reece was gone. Wasn’t everyone but Shay and Betty younger than him?
Holden grimaced. He didn’t want to be old, even if it was just in this small microcosm of people.
But he was the leader, and he had assignments to lead. “I want the shells back at headquarters for tests. You can send someone else. I want you to stay close as secondary.”
Gabriel nodded. He stopped at a rock a few yards from the house. “This is where I found the shells.”
Holden studied the area. He’d want to look again in the daylight instead of the two narrow beams of light from their phones. But this would be a good vantage point. Still, how had Holden not sensed something was wrong? Why hadn’t any of her dogs?
Granted, they didn’t really bark or growl at him. Wouldn’t the point of having all those animals around be for them to act as some kind of protective element? Or at least an early alarm?
So many things that didn’t fully add up. He looked back at the house. Willa had a light on and was in the kitchen. Probably cleaning up the shattered glass.
“We need the bullet too,” he said, watching the shadow of her movements. She’d told him things, and yet he knew she’d kept things from him, too. Probably always would. His job was to protect her, but she’d protect her parents.
He wanted to blame her for that, but it was hard to find the frustration. If his parents were alive, he’d do everything in his power to protect them too.
“Something doesn’t add up here,” Gabriel said, his voice low and quiet in the dark of night.
“No, it doesn’t.” Holden crouched by the rock, tried to figure the angle of the shooter. Tried not to think about how he should have been more careful.
Eventually he stood. “Do another check. Not as wide, but even more thorough. I’ll get the bullet and meet you back out here.”
“Afraid to let me inside because I’ve got eyes in my head?”
Holden didn’t give Gabriel a look. He would have said the same thing once upon a time. Hell, if Sabrina was leading this and he was on secondary, he would have said the same to her. The fact it annoyed him was neither here nor there.
So, he said nothing at all. He strode for the house and trusted Gabriel to do his job. He went in through the front door, studying the house with new eyes. When he’d first sneaked in, he’d been looking for signs of who Willa really was. Now he was looking for signs of weakness.
She had that whole safe house underground setup and she lived in this rickety old farm house like she didn’t have a fear in the world. Where she tried to live a normal life, with only animals for companionship.
He could not let that affect him. Sympathy, empathy, they weren’t the enemy, but they could make it harder to do what had to be done. Much as he felt his new mission was to protect Willa, he couldn’t trust her one hundred percent. She still had secrets.
Soundlessly, he made his way to the kitchen. He stood in the shadows, just out of sight, watching her sweep up glass. She talked the entire time. To a dog and a cat who sat obediently away from the glass.
“Windows can be replaced,” she was saying. “Any thing can be replaced.” She sighed, resting on her haunches—broom in one hand, dustpan in the other. She looked at her animals. “I don’t know how I’m going to protect you guys though.”
“We’ll figure out something.”
She jerked in surprise, but she didn’t screech or fall over. She simply eyed him warily. “Will we now?”
“Much like you, they’re innocent bystanders.”
She sighed and got to her feet, dumping the dustpan’s contents into a paper bag. The glass clinked together, and she looked up at the window that had exploded. She’d taped cardboard over the opening.
“Innocent bystander. I don’t feel like that. I feel like a pawn.”
Since that’s essentially what she was, he chose to change the subject. “Do you have anything I could dig the bullet out of the wall with?”
She turned and studied the wall where there was a hole. It didn’t bother Holden that it could have been his head that bullet had been lodged into. He’d been shot at too many times to count. He had a healthy grip on the idea of mortality.
But Willa had gone a little pale as she studied the wall. He wondered how deeply she’d considered her own. Likely more than the average woman, but that didn’t mean some people ever got comfortable with it.
She turned away and opene
d a drawer. She pawed around in what appeared to be a collection of junk—rubber bands and random screws, cords and pieces of paper, then pulled out a pair of needle-nosed pliers.
She handed him the tool, and he worked to get the bullet out of the wall with minimal damage to the wall, but either age or damage made much of the drywall and plaster crumble away as he dug around for the bullet.
Much like the shells, the bullet didn’t match the ammunition for the high-powered gun they knew about. Still a deadly bullet and weapon, but Holden had to wonder why a hit man who’d been sent a specific weapon would then use a different one.
The only reason he could think of was that Willa wasn’t the target. Not specifically. He didn’t want to worry her, but she had a connection to two people hooked up with government missions and danger.
“Willa...” He sighed. “Do you know where your parents are?”
Her expression didn’t change. There was no shock or worry or surprise. Because clearly she’d already come to the same conclusion he had. “I don’t know. They’re not answering my messages.” Willa looked back at the window and hugged her arms around herself. “You think they’re the actual target.”
There was no getting around it. “Yes.”
When she looked back at him, her eyes were direct, no sign of tears. Her expression was grim, but not afraid. “I do too. Which means you have to help me find them.”
Chapter Nine
Holden’s mouth moved into a frown. A disapproving one. She knew it would be difficult, but she had to convince him to let her be part of his assignment. She couldn’t sit back while her parents were in specific danger.
She’d done it her whole life. Let them be in danger. Just...hoped they’d be okay and she wouldn’t be left helpless and alone. But what if they needed her now? What if that’s why they hadn’t responded to her help message? What if they couldn’t? Could she really just sit around and wait for news they were dead?
No, she couldn’t.
This was different from anything that had come before because they weren’t communicating with her. Because Willa herself had been shot at, not just threatened. Besides, in this moment she had... Well, Holden wouldn’t see himself as her partner, but they could act as partners. For this. She just needed to be a part of it.