by Norris, Kris
She blinked. How the hell did he know so much about her?
He chuckled, extending his hand. “The name’s Casey O’Reilly. But my friends all call me Six.”
Six. That was it. The name Cannon had said a few times. Why hadn’t she remembered it? Maybe because she’d been too focused on Cannon. On the way his muscles moved. How his lips twitched. The deep bronze of his eyes, not to mention the gravelly tone of his voice. The one that sent shivers racing along her nerve endings. Made her stomach scatter into a thousand butterflies as heat settled in her core.
Another chuckle.
Damn, she’d drifted off into thought while standing there, staring at Six. “Seems you already know all about me.”
“Only what Cannon’s mentioned.” Six’s smile widened. “Guy’s pretty focused on you. Has a way of bringing you up into any conversation. Poor bastard doesn’t seem to realize how far he’s fallen…” He paused, narrowing his eyes before shaking his head. “I stand corrected. I guess he knows exactly how far he’s fallen. About time, too. I knew he was yours as soon as he called me after that night at the bar. Glad he’s finally admitted it. Colt and I thought we’d have to beat it out of him.” Six leaned in closer. “A guy can only pretend for so long before he has to acknowledge the truth. Even if it is scarier than any other mission he’s faced.”
“You knew after that first night? I didn’t even know. And how do you know he’s admitted his feelings?”
Six shrugged. “I’m not wrong, am I.”
It wasn’t a question, the cocky bastard.
Jericho crossed her arms. “Since you didn’t ask, I’ll refrain from answering.” She motioned to the coffee beans. “Were you the one who drank all the coffee?”
“It’s been a long trip. Besides, Cannon went out to get you some caramel latte drink and some bagels. Apparently, you live on the stuff. He should be back soon. But, I’ll make another pot if you’d like. Tide you over until he arrives. From what I’ve heard, you could use the pick-me-up. Sounds like it was a long night last night.”
Shit. Had Six heard them, as well? Had they kept the other two men up?
Six moved in beside her, readying the machine. “Colt says you brought in that guy who escaped—Ty Brown. The one who hurt you. Killed your partner. Sounds like the loss of sleep was worth it.”
Oh, he meant they’d had a long night at the bar, collaring Brown. Not that he’d heard her and Cannon getting it on. Christ, she really needed to get her mind out of the bedroom and back on the job.
She gave herself a mental pep talk, turning to lean against the counter as Six flipped on the coffee maker. “Cannon’s the one who was busy. Who took all the risks. I just waited until he’d cleared out Brown’s men then arrested the jackass.” She sighed. “He seems to forget I’m armed, as well.”
“Cannon’s always been protective of his team. When he made unit leader, he took the position very seriously. Wouldn’t think of getting to safety until all of his men were accounted for. And his last stint undercover…” Six whistled. “It was hard. Being on his own. Then, having to break ranks in order to save a fellow serviceman. The guy would have sacrificed himself for strangers, let alone a soldier. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.” Six glanced over at her. “For you… I bet he’d fight the devil, himself.”
“I would. No question.”
Jericho jumped as Cannon’s voice sounded directly behind her, nearly knocking into him when she spun to face him. She placed a hand on her chest, willing her heart to stop pounding out of her rib cage. “Jesus. Don’t any of you make a noise when you enter a room? Damn near scared me half to death.”
Cannon smiled, and damn, it did that butterfly thing to her stomach, again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Old habits. Noise—”
“Gets you killed. Yeah, you’ve mentioned it before. Sneaking up on an armed federal marshal could get you killed, too.”
Cannon merely shrugged.
She huffed. “Like I was telling Six, you Spec Op guys are all just a bit too cocky for your own good.”
“I’ll take my chances. Besides, you’re not wearing your holster, which means your weapon’s still on the nightstand.” He laughed at her. “Don’t pout. I brought you caffeine and sugar. Your favorite combination. And bagels.”
Jericho inhaled as he handed her the latte. “You’re forgiven.”
Cannon shouldered in beside her, lightly pressing his side against hers. “I’d hoped to surprise you in bed. Thought you’d sleep later. You were pretty wiped out after last night.”
Six chuckled until Cannon swatted the man up the backside of the head. Six made a point of schooling his features, though she knew he was still smiling on the inside.
Cannon sighed. “Ignore him. He hasn’t been around regular people for a while.”
Six snickered. “As if you’re the embodiment of social interaction. Outside of Jericho, how many non-military people do you associate with?” Six nodded at Cannon’s glare. “That’s what I thought. And, for the record, I let you swat me. Don’t think I wasn’t aware it was coming.”
Cannon took a swig of his coffee before handing Six one then placing a variety of bagels on a plate he grabbed out of the cupboard. “And to think I asked you to join me voluntarily. I must be losing my mind.” He glanced at Jericho. “How are your ribs?”
Had he seriously just asked how her ribs were? When their tumble in the sheets would have been the reason she might be sore? Was he trying to make her blush?
She smiled. “I’m fine.”
“And if you had to draw down? Chase a felon through an alley? Tackle them? Would you still be fine?”
“Cannon…Rick. I think we both know it’ll be another week or two before I’m a hundred percent. But that doesn’t mean I’m not fit for duty. I’m sure Art will have me riding a desk until he’s satisfied I can do a weapon check without dropping to my knees. You don’t have to worry all the time.”
“Of course, I do. I love you, which means, it’s my job to worry.”
Jericho knew her mouth gaped open. He’d just said he loved her. Again. In front of Six. And he’d said it as if he was asking her if she wanted butter on her bagel. Or if she was warm enough. As if it was easy. Natural.
She turned to face him, with every intention of returning the sentiment, when Colt’s hand appeared beside her head, her phone in his grasp.
She jumped—again, damn it—this time making an unflattering shrieking sound. “Christ. Can you all please stop scaring me? Learn to scuff the floor or something when we’re in the loft. I doubt there are any tangos, as you call them, hiding in the showers.”
She frowned at Colt. “And when did you come in?”
“I was with Cannon, but it appears you only have eyes for him.”
Jericho groaned, palming her face. “Maybe I should have slept longer. Is it too late to change my mind? Start this day over?”
Colt laughed. “Don’t worry. Cannon’s just as focused on you. And you wouldn’t have gotten much sleep. Your phone’s been going off for a couple of minutes. You had it on silent, so I didn’t hear the first few vibrations. Looks like your office wants you.”
“Art’s been calling? But I’m not officially back, yet.” She took the phone, scrolling through the missed calls. “Shit, three times. It must be important.”
She unlocked the screen when a blast of music filled the room.
Cannon reached into his back pocket. “Looks like Art’s trying another route. He’s calling the burner number I gave him.”
“You gave him a burner number?”
“I told you. I don’t give out my personal cell to anyone—other than you and my brothers. I’m keeping this one just for Art.” He hit the button. “Sloan.”
A pause as his eyes darted to either side. “She’s fine, Art. Was just getting something to eat. Left her phone in the bedroom.” He chuckled. “Do you really want me to tell her you said that? Didn’t think so. What’s up?”
Another pause. Longer than befor
e until she found herself shifting from one foot to the other. She hated not knowing what was being said, especially when she knew it involved her.
Cannon straightened. “He did what? That’s…unexpected. Of course.” He looked at his watch. “We’ll be there at eighteen-hundred.”
Jericho stared at him after he ended the call, trying to be patient, but the brute just stood there. Silent. “What? What’s unexpected? Why was he trying to call?”
“Easy, sweetheart. You’ll pop a blood vessel.”
“Cannon…”
“It seems that Ty Brown wants to swing a deal. Says he’ll give the feds everything they need to bring down the Macmillan enterprise if they put him in Wit Sec.”
She blinked. Obviously, she’d misheard him. “You said Brown wants to give up his employers? The same ones he refused to move on for months? That he wasted time in a federal penitentiary for? But he wants to talk, now?”
“That’s what Art said. The feds are there, now. Art said to meet him at the office at six. Guess we’ll get all the details, then.”
“But…the man is wanted in connection with the murder of a federal marshal. Attempted murder of another. Why the hell would the feds cut him a deal when we gave him back to them practically gift wrapped?”
“I—”
“So, that’s it? They’re just going to let the bastard waltz into Wit Sec? I mean, I know how the game’s played, but… I thought they might reconsider due to the severity of Brown’s latest charges.”
“Jericho.” Cannon gently grabbed her shoulders, waiting for her to look at him. “Those are all great questions, but I don’t know the answers. And worrying about it before we can get them will only give you an ulcer. Sit. Eat. We’ll go through everything. Make a list of what you want answered, then head over when it’s time. Okay?”
She blew out a raspy breath. She hated waiting. “Fine.”
He tossed Colt his truck keys. “Colt. Six. You guys will take my truck. Go ahead of us. Circle around the office. Keep an eye out. When you’re sure it’s clear, one of you come up. The other can keep watch. You’ll need the code on the off chance you’ll have to get inside. If Brown really is going to cut a deal, that makes him one hell of a liability. And I don’t want Jericho caught in the crossfire, again.”
She swatted his shoulder. “I can handle myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t. But we have no idea what kind of firepower we could be up against. No sense getting shot because we were stupid.”
“You realize you’re describing pretty much every day on the job for me, right? I rarely know exactly what I’m up against. There’s never enough information, and things rarely go as planned.”
“Which is why we’re taking Colt and Six along. I’m calling Rigs, too. Just to be safe.”
“If this is you working on your protective instincts, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” She sighed. “But, I suppose we can’t be too careful, considering Brown’s history. The resources that could be used both for and against him. Just…try not to kill everyone who looks my way.”
“No promises, but I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Well, shit.
That was all Cannon could think as he stood there, shaking his head as Art laid out the plans involving Ty Brown. Plans that dashed any hopes of Jericho getting her answers, but succeeded in putting Cannon right in the middle. The one place he didn’t want to be. Not when he knew his proposed involvement was like a slap in the face to her. After all she’d sacrificed—nearly dying. Losing her partner. Busting her ass to apprehend Brown. Return him to custody—she was being benched. Put on medical leave until she could pass her firearm’s practical, again.
Not that Cannon disagreed. After all, she was still healing. Despite her incredible strides forward—how well the wound had healed. Her unshakable resolve—she wasn’t quite ready to return to the field. And she knew it. But she seemed determined to ignore the signs. Refused to admit she’d been in pain just drawing her weapon on Brown.
Which made Art’s decision sting even more. She was proud. And not seeing this situation through to the end obviously ate at her. It was evident in the purse of her lips. The narrowing of her eyes. Even the way she replied with curt one-word answers. The girl was pissed.
Add in the fact Brown had specifically requested that Cannon be part of his temporary security detail until the out-of-town agents arrived in a few hours, and Jericho’s mood had turned nuclear.
Except when she looked at him. Even angry and frustrated, her gaze softened, and the tentative smile she flashed him lit up her face. Made him want to hike her up on his shoulder and carry her off. Back to his loft so they could spend the next few days discovering every inch of each other’s body. Though, he had a pretty good road map of hers, already, the thought of putting every tiny freckle and mole into memory was too damn hot to resist.
But that wasn’t in the cards. Not unless he refused Brown’s request. Cannon studied Jericho, trying to determine which course of action would ease the tension straining her shoulders. Take the scowl off her pretty mouth.
Art cleared his throat, gaining their attention. “Look, Jericho, I know how frustrating this must be for you, but it’s standard protocol.”
Her jaw clenched. “I’m fine, Art. Brought the creep in last night without incident.”
Art glanced at Cannon then back to her. “All right. Then, let’s go run through the firearm’s course.”
Her face paled a bit. Not enough Art might notice, but Cannon saw the slightly whiter hue. The way she sucked in her bottom lip for a moment before flicking it free. “You really are a bastard, you know that?”
“A bastard who cares. Hell, until a couple of days ago, I thought you were dead. Cut me some slack, okay? I promise to give you the next mass murderer we have to track down. But…let Cannon see this one through on your behalf. He can ask Brown whatever questions you have rattling around inside your head.”
The man chuckled at her wide eyes. “Please, I know you far better than you think. And I’ll do what I can to see you get some kind of closure. But, after all that’s happened—with our reputation at stake due to Faraday’s possible, albeit unsubstantiated, involvement, both with the Macmillans and your injuries—we need to tread very carefully. The fact Brown requested Cannon is curious, too. I’d like to figure out why, and maybe riding with him to the safe house and spending a few hours waiting for his detail to arrive will shed some light into it. I’ll also give me a chance to get to know Cannon, better.”
Jericho crossed her arms over her chest. “I still say I could sit in a car and watch Brown sweat. I’d be safe with Cannon.” She held up her hand when Art looked about to argue. “Fine. But I’d like a few hours to go through some files I couldn’t access before. Figure out if I really am going crazy.”
“No one else is in today. So, you can stay until we get back. Then, you’re taking a couple more weeks off.”
She stuck her tongue out at him before turning and heading for her desk.
Art snorted. “Well, at least she didn’t flip me off. I guess that’s something.” He twisted to fully face Cannon. “You on board?”
Cannon glanced at Jericho, again, but she was already at her seat, punching on the keyboard. “You’re putting me in a tough spot, you know that, right?”
“Thought you Delta guys thrived at being in the line of fire.”
“With tangos, sure. With the woman they love…”
Christ, he’d said it, again. Out loud, and to Jericho’s boss. As if it was nothing. Just a fact, no different from him admitting he was packing a suppressed M9 or that he’d parked in the garage.
Art paused, looked over at Jericho then sighed. “Guess even the best of the best have to fall sooner or later. I’m glad she found someone who won’t let her down, because she’s had enough of that to last a lifetime.” Art made direct eye contact. “You won’t let her down, right?” He nodded at Cannon’s death
stare. “Didn’t think so. Okay, we leave in ten. The feds will rendezvous with us at the safe house in a couple of hours and take over security. I’ve got a team of marshals flying in from out of state to help. Pray there isn’t another leak out there I haven’t plugged.”
Art shook his head. “Do you think Dave really was involved? There was something going on with him. That’s a given. But actually being involved with organized crime…” He whistled. “That’s an entirely different level.”
Cannon shrugged. “Jericho’s memory is still foggy, not that I’m surprised. The amount of blood she lost, and that concussion. But she swears it was Dave who stabbed her. My gut tells me something’s off. Him dying doesn’t make sense if he was their inside man. You’d think having a federal marshal on the take was worth more than freeing a hitman. Guys like Brown are replaceable.”
“Agreed. But, if there’s even a chance Jericho’s account is right, if Dave was involved and did try to kill her, I’ll have to play my cards very close to my vest. Which is why I didn’t argue when Brown requested you. And why I’m bringing in personnel from out of state. Why the Bureau is assigning agents the same way. The less chance there is that the Macmillan family has any influence over them, the better.” He nudged Cannon. “Go make peace with her, and I’ll grab you as soon as we’re ready.” He turned then glanced back. “Oh, and thanks, Cannon. I appreciate your help.”
Christ, how could Cannon argue with that? He nodded at Art then made his way over to Jericho’s desk, leaning his hip against the edge as she stared at her monitor. Her shoulders hunched before she focused on him.
Shit. She wasn’t just upset. She was hurt. But he had a feeling it wasn’t because she’d been sidelined. Being back here… It had to dredge up some conflicting feelings. He’d caught her glancing over at Dave’s desk and bet his ass her ex-partner weighed heavily on her mind.
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”
She looked over at Dave’s desk, again, then huffed. “Not sure. I didn’t think it would feel like this.”