“I’m such a wimp,” she muttered. And then, to her horror, she started crying. Big fat tears coursed down her cheeks and soaked his shirt.
He rubbed her back. “Sweetheart, you’re not a wimp. You’re probably the toughest woman I’ve ever met outside the military. And the training they’ve gone through helps them to mitigate all of this. You’re doing it on your own. All right? It’ll pass. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, or silly. Cut yourself some slack. That was serious shit this morning.”
The fact that he held her wasn’t just comforting. She felt connected to him in a way she never had to another human being. The level of healing she got just from having him there was the most intense thing she’d ever felt.
“I’m proud of you, Cassidy Cross,” Romero murmured.
ACTUALLY ROMERO WAS a little in awe of her. He knew grown men who wouldn’t have made such swift, decisive, and rational decisions in that sort of situation. She could have easily curled up in the fetal position in a corner and just given up. All things considered, it would have made sense.
Still, he needed to figure out who it was that wanted her out of the way. Obviously someone did. He could only assume that those two idiots—Hobbs & Co—had been there specifically for her. Why? Had Romero and Cassidy’s recent adventure at the club with Mr. Adams ruffled some feathers? Or was this another layer entirely? He couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something significant.
Cassidy was asleep. He was glad. For someone like her, an adrenaline crash that fierce would be emotionally catastrophic. Sleep helped the body mitigate some of the backlash. Her system would refresh itself, and she would feel better when she woke up. In the meantime, he managed to slide his smartphone out of his pocket without jostling Cassidy too much.
He checked to see if the pictures he’d taken had loaded. They had. He quickly sent them off to Yates for analysis. If anyone could find a link between all the players, Breckin Yates was the man to do it.
He had an email from Trapp about this situation. Trapp had apologized for getting him into this mess—blah, blah, blah. Then he’d specifically told Romero that Rachel’s roommate Cassidy was hands off. Romero glanced down at the woman in his arms.
A little late for that.
Trapp had also copied the rest of Romero’s team on the progress he and Cassidy had made so far. Yates and Bones were in DC, Sparks was probably in some off-the-grid hole he had built out in the middle of nowhere, and Trapp was hoping to be granted his request for leave in order to come home and help with the search for Rachel.
Cassidy stirred in his arms. Romero slipped his phone back into his pocket and gently shifted on the bed. Cassidy gave a little sigh and slipped in closer. She was all but trying to climb into his pockets. He touched her hair and stroked her face. She was so gorgeous, yet there was more substance to her than he had ever imagined possible.
His first instinct was to remove her from this situation. Send her far away and keep her out of the action until it was all over. They would find Rachel, and then Cassidy could come back. But she would never thank him for that high-handed approach. She was a stubborn, independent woman with very clear ideas on what she could do.
CASSIDY BEGAN TO wake very slowly. She became aware of the intense heat source keeping her warm and toasty. Nuzzling Romero’s chest, she inhaled deeply of his spicy, masculine scent. It felt so good to be held by him.
The events of the morning started to filter back, but somehow they couldn’t touch her in the same way right now. She was safe in Jase Romero’s arms. She could pull the memories out and look them over like old blankets being shaken to get the dust off.
She remembered the moment the gunmen had entered her classroom. There was something off about that moment. Then it hit her.
“How did they know my name and where I worked?” Cassidy wondered out loud. “How could they know that?”
Romero stirred behind her. “What do you mean?”
“The gunmen came into my classroom looking for Cassidy Cross.”
He was silent. She could tell he was mulling it over as well.
“More than that, how did they know I taught at that school? It wasn’t like we ran around yesterday giving our names out to those overblown bouncers. We didn’t even tell Adams who we were.”
“And you said they knew your first and last name,” he mused.
“Yes. And they knew where my classroom was. It was like they had come there, specifically looking for me. Then they saw Jones and called out for me. They didn’t even have a moment of thinking that it was his classroom. I was in the closet on a ladder. They got rid of him because he was in the way.”
“That’s a problem,” Romero murmured. “A very big one.”
“How would they know that?” A thought occurred to her, making her both horrified and excited at the same time. “Do you think Rachel could have told them?”
“I think it’s likely that she’s somehow involved in giving them personal information, but I don’t think she actually gave them your name and told them to go pick you up.”
Cassidy’s brain began spinning in circles. She slowed it down and thought very carefully about what was happening. “Do you think they maybe have a list?”
“What?”
“A list of targets.” She was warming to her topic. “That club is on the same street as the school. Our apartment building is maybe a block or two out of that line. We’re all in the same neighborhood, so to speak. What if they have a list of single women from the surrounding area? They might look at it and discard those who somehow don’t fit their profile. People who would be missed, or women who don’t fit the physical characteristics.”
“That’s a little complex, don’t you think?” But he didn’t sound as if he was ruling it out entirely.
“Look how big that operation is,” she insisted. “It’s huge. It can’t be sustaining itself without a little bit of research. Adams said they hire multiple guys as bait. Why not hire researchers to do demographics on the area? They could be pulling from those files and somehow trying to entice the women they want into the club. You could send advertising, free drink coupons, any number of things to get them in the door. Once they’re there, the bait has a list of targets, and boom!”
Okay, so maybe that all did sound a little farfetched, but in a scary, possible way. So it begged the question: what would happen if Cassidy showed up at that club?
Chapter Fourteen
“No. Absolutely not.” Romero could not believe that Cassidy was even entertaining the notion.
She frowned at him. “You’re being a completely overprotective, sexist pig.”
“What does sexism have to do with it? This has nothing to do with whether or not you’re a woman. It has to do with the fact that they attempted to murder you earlier today!” Romero growled.
He had been arguing with Cassidy for nearly fifteen minutes. They were out of bed—which he did not appreciate—and now she was following him around the apartment lobbying to go out for the evening to the same club where Rachel had disappeared. She was insane!
“You’re just being stubborn about this because you like me,” she accused.
He blanched. “That’s ridiculous! What does that even mean?”
“I mean that if I was some typical female who you couldn’t wait to get away from, you would be jumping up and down for me to go put myself in danger to find a few leads on Rachel’s case. But you like me, and that’s making you not want to let me do anything dangerous—or in this case, helpful,” she grumbled.
“First of all,” he began with a long exhale, “I would never send a woman into harm’s way just because I think she’s annoying as hell. I resent that.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked contrite, and he was slightly mollified. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re callous.”
“And secondly. Hell yes, I like you. And no, I’m not going to let you waltz into the enemy camp waving around a big flag and begging them to kidnap you. That’s no
t a good way to get intel.” Not to mention his gut knotted and he thought he might vomit every single time she mentioned it.
“You’re being silly.” She touched his shoulder lightly. It was distracting, but not distracting enough.
“Quit trying to romance me into giving in,” he grouched at her. “I’m not doing it, and that’s final.”
“But, Jase, you’ll be right there the whole time. I’ll have my phone. I’ll hide it, strap it to my leg or something, underneath my dress.”
She was calling him Jase now? That was low. Really low. The sound of his name on her lips was like magic. Meaning that it magically made him think of the magical sound of her voice during sex. When she was coming and she said his name in the throes of climax.
“I knew you’d see things my way,” she said with satisfaction.
*
Excitement coursed through Cassidy’s veins. She tossed her head and felt her long hair slide over her bare shoulders. This was going to be the night. She knew it. They were finally going to find out who was behind all of this. They were going to find Rachel and bring her home safely. Cassidy would discover who the person was behind all this kidnapping, and she would bring this person down!
“You need to calm down,” Romero muttered. “You’re practically vibrating.”
“Oh. Sorry.” She gave a little shrug as they inched closer to the club entrance. “You know, I could get in by myself if I just walked up to the…”
He cut her off almost instantly. “No way in hell. We go in together.”
“So you remember the plan, right?” she prodded, gripping his arm.
His long-suffering sigh almost made her laugh. “Yes. I remember the plan.”
“Whew. Just checking.” She nuzzled his arm as they moved a few more feet closer to their goal.
“I think I see some bait,” Romero muttered.
“Who?” She swiveled her head, looking at everyone nearby.
He grunted. “Could you be a little more obvious?”
“Oh yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s the guy standing by the bouncer at the door.” Romero’s gaze cut just slightly in that direction.
“He looks okay, but he’s not as pretty boy as that Adams guy was.” She thought they could get some better bait.
“It’s not his looks, it’s what he’s doing,” Romero said patiently. “Look at his clipboard.”
“Oh.” She realized that while the bouncer was just checking IDs, this man seemed to be looking at the IDs and then searching his list. “You think he’s checking a list of single women against the IDs coming into the club?”
“If your theory is correct, that would make a lot of sense, wouldn’t it?” Romero mused. “I suppose there’s one way to find out.”
“Show them my ID,” she said nervously.
He nodded. “You still up for this?”
“Yes. Of course.” She licked her lips nervously. “I’m ready.”
“Here we go then.” Romero handed the bouncer both his and Cassidy’s photo IDs.
The bouncer hung onto them just a fraction longer than necessary. “Thank you.”
Behind the bouncer, the man with the clipboard was peering at Cassidy as though she were an all-you-can-eat buffet. Then he scribbled something on his list and pulled out his phone.
Cassidy and Romero entered the club. Cassidy leaned in close to Romero’s ear. “Did he just text someone a heads up that I’m here?”
“I couldn’t see the entire text, but yes. That was the gist.” Romero’s tone was grim. “If you feel in danger at all, sweetheart, I want you to make a run for it. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She hung tight to his arm, tucking herself into the comforting curve of his body.
ROMERO WAS READY to pull the plug. This was a bad idea, and he could feel it in every bone in his body. But about the time he was ready to walk away and call it a loss, Cassidy decided to put their play into action.
“You are such a jerk!” she shouted.
Her shrill voice carried over the music. Several of the dancers stopped to see what was going on. Farther away at the bar, he could see the man with the clipboard. He was watching them intently. Romero took a breath to protest, to call a halt, but Cassidy was already on a roll.
“I can’t believe you would cheat on me!” She gave him a little shove.
Somehow, her words had an odd effect on him. His gut tightened reflexively, and he had a strong desire to not only deny these bogus accusations, but to establish a claim to Cassidy that could not be denied.
She was staring at him. The next line was his, but he couldn’t get it out. She narrowed her eyes and tried again. “How could you?”
Romero shrugged, forcing himself to play along and hating every second. “She was offering. I took it. Big deal.”
“Asshole!” Cassidy turned on her heel and stalked away toward the bar.
Romero retreated, stationing himself at the far end of the bar where he could keep an eye on her. The glares of the people who had heard the details of his staged tiff with Cassidy were wearing on his patience. He should not give one moment’s thought to what a bunch of club-hopping idiots thought about him. Yet the idea that someone might believe that he could disrespect Cassidy in such a way was abhorrent to him.
He raised his hand to signal the bartender.
“What’ll you have, Casanova?” the man asked with a smirk.
Romero ignored the jab. “Club soda.”
The bartender gave a derisive snort that Romero forced himself to let go. There was no point in picking a fight with someone who simply did not matter. Instead he threw a five on the bar and sipped the drink that was poured for him.
Cassidy was talking to a man. He had approached her at the bar. The guy looked much like Adams had. Attractive, young, and very likely hired to pay attention to her. Things were going exactly to plan. So why was Romero so twitchy? He let his other senses stretch out a bit.
He took in the crowd on the floor. He looked for things that were incongruent with the circumstances. There were no real red flags, just the feeling in his gut. Then the bait took Cassidy’s arm and began whispering in her ear. Romero clenched his hand so tight on his glass that he was surprised it didn’t shatter. Apparently he was feeling very possessive of Cassidy.
Then the bait took her arm and began leading her toward the VIP section. It was exactly as she had described Rachel’s situation to him. Except he wasn’t going to get hung up in a crowd on the dance floor. He would stay on her tail no matter how many people he had to blast out of the way.
CASSIDY TRIED TO ignore the roiling, sick feeling in her stomach. The man—he said his name was Michael—who was currently paying attention to her was so obviously bait that she could not believe Rachel hadn’t figured out what was going on. The guy might as well have been reading from a script.
“Are you sure we’re supposed to be up here?” she asked him, curious about the VIP section.
“Oh yeah,” he gushed. “I come up here all the time. The bartender is a friend of mine.”
“Is that so.” Cassidy wondered if she sounded gullible enough. It would be just her luck to blow this opportunity because she made it obvious that she’d figured out their game.
“Come on, baby.” Michael tugged her along behind him.
The bouncer didn’t even flinch or give them a second glance. It was nothing like when Cassidy had tried to come up here before to look for Rachel. She’d had to practically promise him a pint of blood.
Michael took her directly to the bar. He bellied up and held up two fingers to the bartender. “Hey, Mac, this is my friend Cassidy. Can you grab us some drinks?”
“Coming right up!”
Mac didn’t even spare them a glance as he mixed a few cocktails. Cassidy remembered how she had suspected the bartender of knowing what had happened to Rachel and being unwilling to say. There was no way in hell she was drinking anything this guy mixed up. It was probably laced with some sort of sedative
to make her slow and stupid. She needed her wits about her tonight, but maybe she could act as if she had taken the drink?
Mac the bartender set two frothy cocktails on the bar. Michael quickly snatched up the one on the left and took a huge drink. Cassidy picked up hers and put her lips to the glass without actually drinking.
“You’re not enjoying the drink?” Michael looked disproportionately worried about that. “It’s one of Mac’s specialties. You’ll hurt his feelings.”
“Oh!” Cassidy purposefully gave him one of her dumb looks. “It tastes wonderful, but I’m a total lightweight, so I take things slow. A few drinks and I’ll be dead asleep.”
“Oh, I see.” Michael looked relieved now. He was really a terrible actor. Why would they even hire him? Other than the fact that he was sort of handsome. Not that she was looking, because he was ugly as sin compared to her Jase.
She wondered if he would object to her thinking of him that way. Her Jase. It had a nice ring to it, and she liked thinking about him that way. But he was so damn secretive about everything. Sometimes she was afraid she was going to be left alone when this was all over with.
“So you want to go upstairs with me and get a few hits?” Michael wagged his eyebrows suggestively. “It’s a lot more private up there. We can be alone, get a few hits, and maybe get to know each other better.”
Cassidy swallowed back the sour taste of fear that had suddenly coated her mouth. This was why she had come. “Sure. That sounds great!”
Chapter Fifteen
Cassidy was having a hard time pretending to be stupid. At least she was pretty sure that was what she was supposed to be for this ridiculous ruse to actually work. It made her wonder just how drunk or drugged Rachel had been when Adams had convinced her to come upstairs to this “exclusive” level of the club.
“Wow,” Cassidy said with as much bimbo vibe as she could muster up. “So what is this place? Is there a hotel or something up here?”
Michael gave an airy wave and kept walking. “Oh, this is just offices and stuff for the club. You know, employee stuff.”
SEAL INVESTIGATIONS: A 5-Books SEAL Romance Series Page 9