8
“You get your wish, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it very much,” Kade said when Paps answered his call.
“Oh yeah? What wish is that?”
“I’m calling an emergency meeting. Now.”
“What the—”
“Now,” he repeated. “I’m in 1016. Tell Eighty-eight and Razor to get their asses over here too.”
“Roger that.” Paps disconnected the call.
Kade threw his phone on the bed, relieved that Paps hadn’t pushed the issue and given him any more shit. He was already spitting mad.
“What’s up?” asked Razor, coming through the door just ahead of Paps and Mercer.
“Close the fucking door,” Kade spat. Once it was closed, he motioned toward the chairs near the window. “Have a seat, gentlemen.”
The other two sat, but Paps stood with his arms folded. “I’ll stand. Now, tell us what this bullshit is all about.”
“I had to find out from my daughter that she found certain documents in the floorboards of one of the cabins on Leech’s property. Any of you want to explain why I wasn’t briefed on that particular development?”
When the three men looked at one another the answer became clear to him. “You all assumed someone else told me?”
“I’ll take this one, Doc,” said Mercer. “I should’ve briefed you.”
“Nah, you’re not taking this one, Eighty-eight,” said Paps. “You are.” He pointed at Kade.
“What—”
“Yeah, that’s right. You are. It’s been five fucking days since we saw your face for the first time in two years. We’ve been in the air most of that time, and on top of that, you’ve refused to make time for the meetings I’ve requested. So don’t give me, or them, any shit about what you were or weren’t briefed about.”
Kade gripped the back of his neck and turned away from them. To a certain extent, he agreed, but what Quinn had found was important enough that they should’ve insisted.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Paps continued, “but don’t assume for a hot minute that you can crawl into any of our heads and do the same.”
“You’re right, but—”
Paps stormed across the room and got in his face. “Do you not get that we were sure you were dead? Jesus Christ, Doc.”
By their look, Razor and Mercer were as stunned by Paps’ outburst as he was. Kade had known the man for close to twenty-five years, and he’d never seen the level of emotion his teammate was exhibiting now.
“I don’t know what to say,” Kade murmured. It was as honest an answer as he could come up with. “Don’t leave,” he said when Paps walked to the door.
“I gotta. I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he muttered before letting the door close behind him.
“What the hell?” asked Mercer, looking at Razor, who shook his head.
“I don’t know for sure…”
“But?” said Kade.
“I think this might have something to do with Barbie. And you.”
“In what way?”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
“For Quinn’s sake.”
“Yeah, well…”
“But he detests her,” said Mercer.
“Maybe, but then again, maybe not.”
“Holy shit,” he muttered, and then looked at Kade.
“It isn’t just that,” said Razor. “You’re back, and I just wonder if he’s questioning his role in the organization.”
He decided now was as good a time as any to tell them his plans. “I’m leaving K19. This will be my last mission.”
“What?” the men said at the same time.
“You heard me.”
“You better find Paps and tell him, man. You should’ve told him first,” said Razor. “You’re pissed that we didn’t brief you on the info Skipper found. I gotta tell you…this feels worse.”
—:—
“Who else has this information?” Merrigan asked Sorcha.
“Laird, and whoever else he’s shared it with.”
“Meaning the K19 team.”
“I’m not certain, lass.”
“Who is ‘Animus’?”
“I dinnae ken, but that is the code name the source referenced.”
The intel Sorcha was passing on indicated that someone, code name Animus, had been the one who’d found Calder’s stash, and had hidden it elsewhere. The name was not familiar to her, and the rudimentary search she’d done yielded nothing. She passed it on to her MI6 team, who could dig far deeper than she could.
It was the most promising lead she’d received and the only thing that made sense. Calder wouldn’t have forgotten where he’d hidden the insurance he needed to keep the Maskhadovs from eliminating him.
—:—
Kade looked across the aisle of their chartered plane to where Quinn slept with her head on Mercer’s shoulder. The last few days had to have been rough on her. He doubted he could’ve handled learning everything she had with as much grace and maturity.
Things hadn’t been easy between Paps and him either. When Kade told him that he intended to leave K19, the man had stormed off again, only to come back a few minutes later to tell him that neither he nor Razor and Mercer were willing to accept his resignation until after they’d completed their current mission. Once they had, it would be up to the four of them together to determine whether K19 would stay in business or dissolve completely.
“It’s all or none,” Paps had said. “You better be damn sure you want to quit, because if you do, we do too.”
Leech approached and sat in the seat across from him on the same side of the plane in a row that faced the back. “Lena said you told her,” he whispered.
Kade nodded. “She needed to know.”
“What now?”
“She and I will arrange for a DNA test.”
“And what if—”
Kade leaned forward, speaking as quietly as he could. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. I’m her father. It doesn’t matter what any test says. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t do it. But it isn’t up to me. It’s her decision.”
He thought about how Quinn struggled with that very thing, always looking to Mercer for his opinion before voicing her own. She’d come to this decision without his input or anyone else’s, and no matter how hard it was to consider the outcome, he would respect her wanting to know.
He cringed when he saw Quinn stand. “I’m sorry if we woke you.”
“May I?” she asked, motioning to the seat next to her grandfather.
“Of course,” he said, moving aside the papers and blanket he’d set there.
She sat and faced him. “I know you and Mom don’t want me to do this.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t explain it, but I have to know.”
“It’s okay,” said Kade, immediately wishing he hadn’t when he saw the look on her face.
“I don’t care whether anyone else thinks it’s okay.”
Kade held up his hands and did his best not to smile. “Got it.”
“Poppy…” she began and hesitated as though she was stunned by the word. “Is it okay if I call you that?”
Leech smiled. “Always.”
“It’s what I used to call you, isn’t it?”
“It is. Do you remember what you called your grandmother?”
“Nonna.”
“That’s right,” he said with a huge smile.
Quinn, however, was more somber. “I know so little about my own life, Poppy. Even if you don’t agree with my decision, please respect it.”
Leech was quiet for a while and looked out the window. When he turned back to face them, his expression had changed. “I will, Quinn. You’ll hear no further argument from me,” he vowed.
Kade looked over to where Quinn had been sitting and met Mercer’s eyes.
He looked as exhausted as Kade felt. He imagined they all were. The ten days since Calder’s death had been an emotional roller coa
ster for everyone.
“The seat next to Lena is vacant,” Leech said after Quinn went back to hers.
When he wiggled his eyebrows, Kade almost lost it. No matter how clear he’d continued to be about not being interested in a relationship with Lena, Leech remained relentless. Once they’d landed and Kade could get his former mentor alone, he intended to make it clear the subject was closed.
“Yeah? Why don’t you go sit there?” he said instead.
Kade’s foul mood wasn’t related solely to Leech’s annoying suggestions. He was also becoming increasingly agitated about his inability to connect with Merrigan. She hadn’t responded to his texts or messages despite Rivet’s assurance that they had daily communication.
“Da,” Kade greeted him when his father came and sat with Leech and him.
“Before you meet with your team again, there’s something I want you to be aware of.”
Kade nodded.
“What Calder was looking for, and I’m assuming your team is as well…”
“Go on, Da,” he urged.
“I believe I have information that will prove useful to your search. We may have a lead…”
“How long have you held onto this?” Kade didn’t even attempt to mask his irritation.
His father looked him in the eye. “I received the intel shortly before we left Germany.”
“Interesting,” said Leech, “But I don’t think now is the time to discuss it.”
“I agree,” said Kade.
The only two people on the plane he’d rather not have this conversation in front of were Quinn and Lena. Quinn appeared to have fallen back to sleep, but Kade had no idea whether Lena was within earshot, and he had no intention of looking.
He’d been consciously avoiding spending time with her unless it was as a family, particularly since Lena had invited him into her hotel room a couple of nights in a row for an “after dinner drink.” He’d declined both times, and while she tried to play it off as no big deal, he saw the hurt in her eyes at his rejection. When it happened for the third time last night, he told her they needed to talk and asked her to come back down to the lobby with him. She’d told him it wasn’t necessary, she’d just been trying to be friendly, and that he didn’t need to make such a fuss about it.
He closed his eyes and let his mind drift away from Lena and to Merrigan. He missed her, which wasn’t a feeling he’d experienced very often.
He’d missed Peyton when they were together and he’d leave on a mission, but it had never felt as strong as the yearning he felt now for Merrigan.
Write her a letter. He heard the words spoken in his mind as though they were said by someone else. It was a good idea, though. That way he could tell her how he was feeling without stalking her. If, after reading it, she still didn’t contact him, he’d know it was time to let go.
Kade stood and walked to the back of the plane where there were two privacy rooms.
“I have some work to catch up on,” he said when he passed Lena.
She nodded when he walked through the door and locked it behind him, thankful that she hadn’t made a move to come in with him.
He sat down and pulled the writing paper he always carried with him out of his briefcase and thought about what he wanted to say.
Dear Merrigan,
It has been over a week since I last saw your face, heard your voice, and was blessed with the warmth having you near brings. It’s been even longer since I held your naked body next to mine.
With every minute that passes, I miss you more. Every thought I have is filled with you, whether it’s because I can’t wait to share something with you, or simply hold you in my arms. The only time I can do either, is when I close my eyes and imagine you’re with me.
I wish I knew what happened that made you leave Ramstein so abruptly, and why, since you haven’t answered my calls or texts. I so wish you would’ve felt like you could share whatever it was with me.
The world is dull and gray without you near, my sweet Merrigan. Only days ago, everything in my world was vibrant and alive, but only because you shone your magnificent light on everything surrounding me.
I am on a flight back to the States as I write this. I will figure out a way to get it delivered to you once we land, but I will not attempt to see you myself until you tell me it’s what you want. You, of all people, know how difficult that will be for me, but that is how much I care about you—enough to wait for your decision and not impose my desires onto you.
Only moments ago, I realized that I have hesitated to tell you how I feel, and I don’t know why. Habit, perhaps. But I can’t hold back any longer. You are my sunrise and sunset, the person I want to be with every moment of every day. You’re the music in my ears and the joy in my heart.
Please let me back into your life.
With great love and respect,
Kade
He closed his eyes and pictured her, naked before him, the way her eyes had bored into his when their bodies joined together. He’d wanted to tell her how he felt then, but fear had stopped him, and he regretted it now.
He’d found the woman he wanted forever with, and he had to overcome his self-imposed obstacles in order to be with her. Whatever it took, he’d do. Whatever she wanted, he’d deliver.
It had taken him a long time to find the other half of his soul, and now that he had, he hoped she wouldn’t force him to let her go.
9
The rest of the flight had gone from bad to worse. By the time they landed, he wasn’t the only one in a foul mood. His every instinct screamed at him to get away, even if just for some good old-fashioned R and R.
He couldn’t go anywhere yet, though, the team still had to meet and discuss the intel his father had received and, from there, find Calder’s damned files.
“Does the name Animus mean anything to any of you?” his father asked him, Paps, and Razor once they’d confirmed that Lena, Quinn, and Leech had gone in search of restrooms.
Kade shook his head and so did the other men.
“Who searched the cabins after Quinn’s discovery?” he asked.
“Eighty-eight at first, but then I did another sweep,” answered Razor.
“Are you saying you didn’t put the files in the floorboards?” asked Mercer.
Kade shook his head again. “What all was there?”
“Not a whole lot. You already know about Quinn’s birth certificate and the police report. The rest were an odd collection of things. Mainly training reports. Some were yours, some were Calder’s. Everything else was random. Some receipts that were so faded we couldn’t read them,” Paps told him.
“Where had you been keeping it?” asked Razor.
Kade rubbed his chin. “Some of it was at the house in Montecito, but it wasn’t all together. The letter, for example, I could’ve sworn I’d put that in the safe deposit box. Some of it doesn’t even sound familiar.”
“We all emptied the contents of the safe box together, Doc. There were several letters, but only one that wasn’t addressed to anyone, and that one was with Ainsley’s letter.”
“Did you give it to Ains?” Kade asked Mercer.
“I did,” answered his father. “On Christmas.”
“Where is it now?”
Mercer shrugged. “Who was it for?”
“Quinn.”
“She hasn’t mentioned it.”
Quinn had found his letter about the trust before Ainsley received hers at Christmas, but that really didn’t matter. The first he wrote—the one she’d already read—while full of mystery, was intended to make sure she knew he’d set up the trust on her behalf.
The second was more personal. In it, he told her about his family and how he hoped she’d allow them into her life. He wrote about his favorite memory of each of his siblings and told her that, no matter what, she was his daughter and always would be. He hadn’t decided yet whether he ever wanted her to read it. So much of it was redundant at this point.
“What are
you thinking?” asked Paps.
“Since I didn’t put those documents in the cabin’s floorboards, who did?”
“Any ideas?” asked Paps.
“I’m thinking—” Kade began.
Paps shook his head and motioned with his chin.
“Kade?” said Lena, standing behind him.
“Yes?”
“Can we talk for a minute?”
He motioned for her to take a seat. “What can I do for you?”
“I was thinking we could spend some time at the house now that we’re back.”
Did she mean Casa Carrizo in Montecito? He’d already given thought to inviting Quinn and Mercer to join him, so his daughter could spend more time in the house where she’d lived her first seven years. Extending the invitation to Lena hadn’t been part of his plan.
The bottom line was the house was his, but could he deny her access to it? He might’ve if he hadn’t ended up owning half of what had been her family’s estate—land that now belonged to two of his brothers.
“We’ll talk more about it later.”
“Later, when? Do you realize I don’t have anywhere to go when we leave this airport?”
“That isn’t true, and you know it.”
“Are you suggesting I stay at the house in town with my father?”
“Lena…”
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” he said quietly enough that he hoped only she could hear him.
“I thought I could stay at Casa Carrizo.”
“That isn’t a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“As I said, we’ll talk about it more later.”
“I need a place of my own.”
“Find one.”
Where she lived wasn’t his problem, and with the Calder threat neutralized, she could go anywhere she wanted to. It was only misguided guilt over the land his two brothers now owned that made him feel remotely benevolent in the first place.
“What is this?” Kade asked Leech when he handed him an envelope.
“Peter Wendt scheduled the reading of Elisabetta’s will.” The usually stoic man’s voice was shaky, and while Kade didn’t want to be disrespectful, he wasn’t sure what that had to do with him.
The Return (Butler Ranch Book 6) Page 8