“Damn it!” Gabe muttered.
“I’m in Richmond right now, and I can’t get to her for another two hours.”
“I got her, man.”
“Nate and Travis are not—”
“I got her,” Gabe repeated tersely. Beatrice was his responsibility, not fucking Nate Reece or Travis Blake’s.
Doug exhaled harshly. “Thanks, man.”
Gabe ended the call, started his car, and drove like crazy to get to his woman.
“Beatrice!” Gabe pounded on the door. It had taken him a damned half hour to get to her. He didn’t know what he would do if he’d found those damned detectives in there. He was feeling pretty homicidal right now. He was going to demand she give him a duplicate keycard. She could protest all she wanted.
What Gabe didn’t expect was Porter opening the door. Beatrice was standing a few feet behind her father.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Gabe snarled at the admiral.
“Good afternoon to you too, Commander,” the admiral replied dryly. “I could ask you the same question. Weren’t you supposed to be watching over my daughter?”
Beatrice gasped in outrage. Fucking great. Now she was thinking he was with her because her father had dictated it.
“I’ve been chasing a lead,” Gabe snapped and shoved the brown envelope to Porter. “Check that out and explain it to me. Oh, and Crane says his marker is paid up.”
He headed straight for Beatrice who had her arms crossed in front of her in annoyance. Daggers were shooting from her eyes.
“Hey, babe” Gabe kissed the top of her head. “What’s this I hear about the detectives paying another visit?”
“They don’t have a leg to stand on,” Porter said absently, a frown had creased his forehead as he returned the contents of the envelope back into it. “Circumstantial evidence is pointing to a Russian diplomat, and they’re frustrated because of diplomatic immunity.”
“Why a Russian diplomat?” Gabe asked, jaw clenching tensely.
“She did a story on the diplomat and his proclivities for high-class prostitutes. Crime scene photos were leaked on the internet.” Beatrice shuddered. “A Russian phrase was carved on her arms. Speculations on social media say it means an eye for an eye.”
Air deserted his lungs as a series of images hit Gabe.
An assassin from another rival Bratva was tied naked on a filthy bed.
He was taunting Dmitry to do his worst.
Dmitry obliged. Carving the words slowly on the man’s arms as he screamed in agony.
After he was done, Dmitry said, “Oko za oko.”
Afterward, he sliced the assassin’s neck from ear to ear.
Blood soaked the bed before it dripped to the floor.
“. . . ear to ear . . .” Beatrice’s voice came back to focus. “Gabe, you okay? You’re looking pale.”
No. He felt like throwing up. Beatrice was in danger because of him.
Porter gripped his arm firmly, addressing Beatrice, “Sweetheart, can we use your office for a minute?”
“What’s going on?” Beatrice glared at both of them. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark, and if your crap is coming back to hit me, I deserve answers, don’t you think?”
At that moment, Gabe couldn’t speak as he was faced with the possibility that he had to sacrifice the woman he loved again. His heart was screaming no. There had to be another way.
Porter dragged him into the study and shut the door.
“Get a grip, Commander,” Porter ordered.
Gabe laughed without humor. “Get a grip? Everything’s gone FUBAR. Ryker is after me and he’s hitting me where he knows it’s gonna hurt. Beatrice. He’s getting less subtle. I’m not discounting that he took the pictures after he killed the reporter and posted them online.”
“Are we certain now that Ryker was Crowe’s man inside Fuego?” Porter asked.
“They have to be connected. I worked closely with Crowe when I was an enforcer. He provided me intel on my targets. He knew my methods. He was probably relaying it back to Ryker.”
“There’s almost no question on that point,” Porter replied. “Crowe was inserted into the Zorin Bratva before you were. I made a quick jaunt to Germany these past two days to follow up some leads with some human assets. It’s highly possible that Crowe tipped Ryker off about the hit on Zorin’s plane. He could have made an offer to Ryker then to join his boss. The reason why Crowe wanted Caitlin was because she almost discovered the identity of the mastermind when she’d been the hacker Sarah Blake. Now that she’s almost at a hundred percent of her tradecraft, she’s becoming more of a threat.”
“If someone is still after Caitlin, we need to bring Travis into the loop.”
Porter’s lips thinned.
“We are not using her as bait,” Gabe said. He was sick and tired of doing things for the greater good at the expense of people he cared about. Gabe scrubbed his face with his hand in frustration. “I’m trying to make sense of who Ryker is after. Me or you?”
“I have a theory,” the admiral said. “You’ve been in Grigori Zorin’s inner circle. You’ve been present in several of his meets with his associates. Whoever his contact was in the CIA fears that you could identify him and is siccing Ryker on you.”
“Why not kill me outright?”
“He wants me as well. I’m not always in plain sight. Taking you out is going to put me on alert, so he’s messing with us the way he knows will get our attention.”
“Beatrice.”
“Exactly.”
He locked stares with Porter. “Now is the time to tell me to stay away from your daughter.”
Porter sighed. “Will you?”
“Fuck no. Even if I stay away from her now, there’s no guarantee Ryker won’t go after her,” Gabe said. “This is where we’re different, Admiral. I can’t change my past, but I’m changing myself now to be the man she deserves. She deserves a man who will love and cherish her.”
“Or get her killed?”
“Fuck you,” Gabe snarled softly. “Fuck you.” He repeated even louder.
“All I ask, Gabriel, is give her a choice to walk away. She deserves to know what she’s signing up for.”
Porter handed him a phone. “This is an encrypted line. I’ve uncovered some troubling intel and may not be able to meet with you for a while, but I will keep you apprised of what you need to know.”
Gabe wondered how much the admiral knew and wasn’t telling him.
The admiral straightened his suit and walked to the door. “By the way, the tox screen report for Eric Stone came back from our labs.”
“And?” Gabe held his breath.
“It was Hybernabis. He was murdered.”
*****
“. . . so, babe, that’s most of the story that you need to know.”
Beatrice’s face remained stoic as the details poured out of Gabe. Eric Stone, Kelly Winters, Luisa Delgado, and her friends were possibly murdered because of an op Gabe had been involved in. Someone was seeking revenge on him and her father, and she was in the center of it all. Her dad left him to tell her everything. She had the sinking feeling that she wouldn’t be seeing her father very much in the near future. Same old story. Deep inside though, her heart was singing because Gabe hadn’t walked out. He stayed and was adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere. There was that wee fact this could get her killed.
“So you’re saying it’s better for me to stay away from you. Not see you at all?”
“In theory, yes.” Gabe said. His jaw was taut, and the planes of his face were etched with frustration and a hint of helplessness.
“And if I tell you I don’t want to ever see you again because I don’t feel safe, you’ll respect my wishes?”
His jawline hardened further, but he nodded jerkily.
Beatrice pursed her lips, walked to the wide picture window, and stared at the Washington DC skyline in troubled contemplation. She heard faint movement and watched Gabe’s tall form approac
h from the window’s reflection before his heat hit her back.
Two warm hands rested on her shoulders, pulling her into him.
“Take a chance on me, poppy,” Gabe whispered. “Please. I promise to protect you, guard you, and shield you from everything that would harm you until there’s no breath or life left in me.”
She exhaled deeply, slightly shaking her head. His arms came around her, hugging her tighter. “If you need me to crawl and beg you to take me back, I will.” Desperation dripped from each word. She was terribly conflicted.
He turned her in his arms, his whiskey eyes were dim in the limited lighting, but their intensity was drilling right into her soul. “The sane part of me tells me to give you a choice,” Gabe whispered, “but this crazy part of me that just needs you . . . wants to lock you up and not let you leave me even if you try.”
Her heart swelled with emotion. “And which part is winning?”
He squeezed her tight. “The crazy part.”
“Hmm . . .” Beatrice smiled. “I’m not telling you to go away. I’m not saying we’re a couple again, but I’m willing to try and get to that point. We’re taking this slow—”
His mouth came down hard on hers as a hand went to the back of her head to hold it in place as he devoured her lips. His other hand cupped the flesh of her ass and hauled her closer against him. Heat bloomed between her thighs as her body arched against his hardness. Her arousal dampened her panties. She pulsated once, twice.
She dragged her lips away. “Gabe . . .” Her tone was censuring.
He chuckled softly, leaning his forehead on hers. “Right. Slow. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I ache for you, babe,” he whispered. His lips scorched over hers again, nibbling her bottom lip. A guttural sound of reluctant self-control vibrated at the back of his throat as he finally pulled away.
“Will you come home with me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Security in the building is good. I’ll be fine.”
“I hate leaving you alone. I’ll sleep on your couch if I have to, but I have Rhino,” Gabe said. “I don’t think your building regulations allow pets, you think?”
“I’ve seen a poodle,” Beatrice deadpanned.
The handle on the entryway door rattled. Gabe tensed and hugged her protectively, pivoting his body so it faced the door.
Doug walked in and paused, his eyes squinting at the intimate embrace he was witnessing.
“I need to get myself a key,” Gabe muttered. “And we need to do something about people walking in on us.”
*****
Steve Ryker stared at his buzzing burner phone in irritation. His boss was a pain in the ass. So his last act was a bit dramatic. So what? He was doing his job, and he was just having some fun.
“Ryker.”
“You are taking too many risks.” A cold chilling voice came over the phone.
“Just sending a message, boss.”
“To whom? Sullivan? The plan was to get rid of him. He is not the biggest issue; Porter is. The admiral is a man who’s a master of misdirection. He will always look beyond the obvious.”
Ryker felt his temper flaring. “I have it under control.”
There was silence for a while. “There’s too much at stake here, Ryker. You’ve already taken more exposure than I’m comfortable with when it’s not even related to our prime objective.”
“I got the results you want, haven’t I?” Ryker bit off.
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Yes. It’s good to know that shipment did not reduce its viability and its dosage matched our expected results. Our buyers will be pleased. I’ll be in touch with more instructions.”
The call ended.
He threw his phone on the table and cursed his boss.
Ryker did not board the doomed plane that crashed into the Atlantic three years ago. He received an anonymous tip about the hit. He had lain low for a few days not knowing who to trust, but still intended to report back to Admiral Porter. Only, he found out he’d been quickly replaced by Sullivan. Ultimately, the admiral got his way and his favorite Navy SEAL got the assignment. Ryker felt bitter and betrayed. He would always play second best to the great Gabriel Sullivan. He later found out who saved his ass from getting on that flight. Philip Crowe had a lucrative proposition for him, so Ryker gave up his integrity to live the life of a mercenary.
So yeah, he didn’t need this dressing down. He did his job. He got his boss the required five test cases. Ryker pulled out the file on Luisa Delgado and the other four to whom he’d given the ST-Vyl virus. Inert in powder form, it was safe and easy to hide with the cocaine shipments. It needed to be activated by a separate compound before it could deliver its deadly potency—malaise and mild fever during the first forty-eight hours. After seventy-two hours, hemorrhagic fever begins. It was further genetically modified with a self-kill DNA so after 120 hours it became inert to prevent mutation. Controlled epidemic. A perfect bioweapon.
*****
The pounding of the hammer echoed sharply in the orange glow of the afternoon. When Gabe purchased the house, it needed a few repairs. Although mostly cosmetic, like a fresh coat of paint, the flooring of the back patio had become warped and needed to be replaced. He glanced furtively to where Beatrice and Doug were having a quiet conversation further up in the stamp of backyard that came with the house. It was a relatively warm day for November, but still chilly enough to have a mug of hot chocolate. Rhino was lying on his belly at Beatrice’s feet. His dog looked as smitten as Gabe was.
Gabe stood back to observe his handiwork. One more floorboard to go. His father had been a construction worker and always had projects around the house. Gabe helped him when he wasn’t in school. It had always been the two of them ever since he could remember. His mother died when he was five. His dad never remarried. Sullivan men loved only once and forever, so it seemed. His eyes drifted to Beatrice. It had been a week since he had laid it all out for her, pretending to give her a choice to walk away when in fact he didn’t think he could ever let her go. He was thankful the outcome didn’t include him kidnapping her and holding her hostage until she agreed to stay with him. It had also been a torturously long week of cold showers and inappropriate hard-ons. He respected her wish to go slow, although he didn’t think he could last another day. He had tasted her again, though not under ideal circumstances. The memory of him eating her pussy and sucking her tits while his dick stretched and slid in and out of her, had played a starring role in his dreams. Gabe stared down the front of his jeans. Yes. That would do it.
Down boy.
It took him a few more minutes to finish the repair work. When he straightened up, he saw Beatrice on the phone with a frown on her face. Doug’s face was also unhappy. What was going on? It was a Saturday; surely dignitaries and politicians could give her a break.
Her voice floated up to him.
“No, Brian, I don’t believe that person has been vetted by either BSI or by me. Can you delay them until I get there?”
Brian. Gabe racked his brain. Brian Haines was a guy on Senator Mendoza’s security detail.
“Zach should know how this should be cleared with Ed, Nate, or Travis.” Beatrice walked toward Gabe. Her face was etched with frustration. “I can’t make that call. Look, is Zach Jamison there? Can I talk to him?”
She was now standing close to him. Gabe wanted to hug her, but he was a bit sweaty. She appeared to be on hold; their eyes met. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Zach? . . . What’s this I hear about this excursion to the Cloverleaf Junkyard? . . . A lead about what? . . . I don’t . . . Wait . . . Damn it.”
Beatrice put her phone away and went straight into the house. She was rifling through her purse.
“What’s going on?” Gabe asked. Doug came in behind him.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t like it,” Beatrice muttered. She eyed him contemplatively.
“Are you up for a trip to the Cloverleaf District? We can’t waste any time, because the senator is already en route.”
“I’ll go anywhere you want, but is it your job to get involved?” Gabe asked. “I understand once you’ve handed over security, you’re done.”
“I can still get involved, especially if I’ve overlooked important details.”
“They didn’t put this person down as a contact, Bee,” Doug answered. “Their protection is as good as their honesty on that questionnaire.”
Gabe pulled off his sweatshirt together with his undershirt. Beatrice’s eyes widened at the sight of his naked chest. He would normally tease her, but now was not the time. He quickly proceeded to the laundry room to pull a clean shirt on.
“Doug, I want you to continue trying to contact Nate or Travis. I know Ed is on a job somewhere in Europe, so it might be harder to get a hold of him,” Beatrice said. “Travis may be out of town with Caitlin. I’m not sure.”
“I’ll handle it,” Doug assured her.
Beatrice was already out the door. Gabe cursed and went after her. In a few long strides, he caught up with her and held her back.
“What?” she snapped.
“Easy, killer,” Gabe said calmly. “The senator may be running roughshod over his security, but you are listening to yours. I have my reservations about heading blindly into the Cloverleaf Junkyard, but it’ll be remiss for you not to give a damn. So we’re giving a damn, but you stick close to me. No going off half-cocked. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Tight as a tick, babe.”
“All right, jeez, let’s go!”
Gabe nodded briefly, steering her to his vehicle as he bleeped the locks.
Minutes later, they were on their way.
CHAPTER NINE
The gate to the junkyard was wide open. The chain and lock holding it closed hung undamaged on one side, which indicated that both parties had contacted the junkyard owner. It was a relief not to deal with breaking and entering charges, although she had dealt with these scenarios on more than one occasion. The place was a well-known neutral ground for warring gangs from the Cloverleaf District. Still, there had been instances when the meets deteriorated into violence.
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