by Em Petrova
She nodded against his chest. “I didn’t know you were married.” Actually, she didn’t know anything about Dylan’s family—or him outside of this mess she was tangled in. Who was he really?
“We’ve been married two months now. We found out about the baby the same week, and I’ll tell you, that hit me hard. In this line of work, until you have something to lose, you don’t know how every second counts. Now I have more reasons to keep from being reckless.”
“Do you think all your brothers feel that way? That they have a lot to lose and have to be careful?” He smelled like clean cotton and she was glad for the brotherly comfort because she was afraid of his answer. If she learned Dylan took risks… She swallowed hard.
“I’m sure Ben does. And if I’m not wrong, Dylan does too.”
She drew back. “What does that mean?”
He smiled softly, his lips a bit thinner and harder looking than Dylan’s. Then again, she’d believed the man she’d kissed—oh, so many times—to be carved from granite. That meant Sean was flesh and blood as well.
“Don’t you know why you’re so broken up that Dylan left? Or why he looked about to put a fist through a cement block wall?” His hazel eyes gleamed with a kindness that made her tears flow faster.
She shook her head. “He looked like that?”
“I don’t think I’m wrong in saying you’ve been more to my brother since he met you.”
Talking to a stranger this way—and a male too—was disconcerting, so why did she feel her mouth opening and words tumbling out?
“There’s an attraction, yes. But it’s not real. It’s from the stress and being thrown together for so many days.”
He stared at her. “Are you sure that’s all? Sometimes things happen fast, especially if they’re meant to be.”
She drew away. “I don’t know anything anymore. I’ve had so many days cooped up here that I can’t think straight. Especially when he touches me…” She trailed off and looked up at Sean, embarrassed. “You don’t need to know the details. I’m sorry.”
His warm smile was back, coupled with a crease between his brows. “It’s all right. I guessed anyway.”
“Does the whole Knight Ops team know?”
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “They do if they’ve been paying attention.”
“What does that mean? Are we that obvious?” She almost changed her words to were we that obvious because she and Dylan were over. She couldn’t deal with a man leaving in the middle of the night and not telling her where he was going or if he’d ever return.
She swiped another tear away as it dribbled down her cheek.
Sean rubbed her shoulders, his strong hands finding all the knots she didn’t know she had. A sigh left her.
“Look, we’re brothers. Even Rocko might as well be blood. We know each other inside and out and you see changes in people.”
“You saw changes in Dylan?”
He nodded. “He’s been different. He’s always been the quietest Knight. God knows our sisters are anything but quiet. But he’s been even quieter when he’s around us. He’s also moodier.”
She tensed. “I make him moodier?”
Sean grinned, the smile line cutting through his cheek so much like Dylan’s that her heart flipped over. “Don’t you know love makes a man moodier?”
She blinked.
“You didn’t know how he feels?”
“I—” She looked up at him, unable to find the words with the big L word flashing in her head like a neon sign on a carnie booth.
She drew a deep breath to control the crazy notions circling her head. This was Sean speaking and not Dylan. He didn’t really know how his brother felt unless Dylan confided, and it sounded as if that wasn’t the case.
He must be misinterpreting his brother’s silence and moodiness. Heck, he hadn’t even been around him that much lately. How could this be love when she and Dylan had just met and were in a situation that was a breeding ground for emotional turmoil?
Then again…
She pushed out a breath. “He told me he’s falling for me.”
He grunted. “That’s what I thought at first too with Elise. I thought it couldn’t be anything but lust and a heavy crush. Damn, was I wrong. But it didn’t take me long to figure things out, and since Dylan and I share DNA, I bet he’s the same way.”
Athena shook her head. “Nothing can happen between us.”
He cocked his head, watching her closely. “Why not? Are you attached?”
“No! I mean, of course not. I wouldn’t play around with Dylan if I was. But… it isn’t real. These feelings.” A cry bubbled up her throat, and she narrowly cut it off before breaking down entirely. She rubbed a hand over her face. “Look, I’m exhausted. I should get some sleep and I’m thinking about closing the boutique tomorrow.”
He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry, but you can’t do that.”
“I can’t?” She gaped at him. She could set her own hours. Never once had she chosen not to open Athena’s Creations or left early in all her years until this week.
“Athena, we’re trying to find the people who are not only on our watch list but our targets. When they send in Knight Ops, we have a duty to smoke out the criminals and capture them. In this case, your customers.”
Once again, her guard went up. Her clients weren’t criminals, just people who loved to flaunt their money.
She shook her head.
He nodded. “There are things we can’t tell you.”
“Dylan mentioned that.” A pang hit her at saying his name.
“We need you to keep your normal business hours and stick to the plan with us. Did Dylan mention he also needs you to place another order to that supplier you purchased the jeweled shoes from?”
She shook her head, exhausted and drained. How was she going to make it through the next day feeling this way? And without Dylan to push her.
Sean squeezed her shoulder. “I have a plan.”
She met his stare.
“I’m bringing in backup, someone to help you in the boutique.”
Her brows shot up.
He grinned. “My wife. She’s OFFSUS too.”
“OFFSUS. I keep hearing that word but I don’t know what it means and nobody will tell me.” She folded her arms over her chest again, trying to find comfort in the natty sweater. But only having Dylan close right now would drive away this panic rising inside her.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this. It stands for Operation Freedom Flag Southern US.”
“So you’re like… Homeland Security?”
The crooked smile he wore was so like Dylan’s that she had to squeeze herself harder to keep from running to the door and out of the house to look for him.
“You could say we’re an amped up version of that crew.”
“How amped up?” She thought of Dylan’s muscles as he thrust into her.
“Think of it this way—they’re mall cops and we’re Knight Ops.”
* * * * *
Ben, Chaz and Roades stared at Dylan while Rocko just leaned against the wall, a grin plastered on his face. For ten minutes they’d been trying to talk him out of confronting Colonel Jackson, but they were wasting their breath. They were told Jackson was en route to the base, and Dylan was climbing the walls waiting.
“Think about it, Dylan,” Ben said for the third time.
“I have thought about it. This is dragging on. If we’d held back and waited on that mission overseas—”
Ben sliced a hand through the air to cut him off. “That’s completely different and you know it.”
“The threat isn’t small or we wouldn’t be here discussing it right now. Jackson felt it was important enough to set us on the path and we’ve been running in place for days. I’m fucking done churning up dirt.”
“Dammit, you know what you did was wrong. Taking her out of the safe house to a fucking public place? And Mardi Gras, the biggest security threat in the country—hell, maybe eve
n the planet? This isn’t going to go unanswered for.”
“I’ll deal with the fallout if it comes to that.”
“Oh it will. You’re not thinking straight because you’re in—”
“If it isn’t the Knight Ops boys. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Jackson’s voice cut off what Ben was about to say, but Dylan could guess. They’d spent the past ten minutes trying to convince him that his emotions were making him act irrationally. But from Dylan’s point of view, he was the only clear-thinking one of the bunch. Lying in wait was not their style and never would be. Why were they stalling now?
Jackson waved them into his office and circled to his desk. The team gathered around, shoulder to shoulder, at attention.
“At ease, men. Now somebody explain what the hell you’re doing in my office.”
The colonel didn’t hold back even though the captain of the Knight Ops team was his own son-in-law. In fact, he was probably harder on Ben because of it.
Jackson looked from face to face. “Well? Dylan, shouldn’t you be at the safe house?”
“I left Sean in charge, sir.”
“I was awakened in the middle of the night after receiving a phone call from Ben.” He directed his stare at their caption. “That you had disobeyed direct orders and taken the woman you’re charged with out of the safe house and to the fucking fair?”
“Sir, I—” Dylan began, heat infusing his face. He’d done it, all right. Fucked up bad. He had no excuses other than he wanted to see her happy, and he’d achieved that at least.
“You what? Screwed up? I’d say that’s an understatement, Knight.”
“It won’t happen again, sir. I will take whatever punishment is coming to me.”
Jackson eyed him for a long minute. “Damn right you will. I should take you off the operation.”
“Sir, that isn’t necessary. I’ll scrub latrines, whatever it takes.”
He shook his head. “Goddamn latrines,” he muttered.
“Sir, I request that you do not remove me from the operation. What I did was wrong. I acted irresponsibly and beyond my authority.”
“I’ll deal with that later. Right after you tell me why you dragged me out of bed to come down here.”
Dylan shot Ben a look and received a warning glance in return. But he stepped up to the desk and took charge. “Sir, I’m asking permission to act fast. The vendor of those jeweled shoes and some of the other necklaces in Athena’s Creations has a false front.”
“I knew that from the report, Knight.” If Jackson had been pulled from his bed to come to the base and have this conversation, he didn’t look it. He was just as sharp and eagle-eyed as ever.
“Why haven’t we reacted to that intel? The address leads to a warehouse.”
“The warehouse was already inspected. It checked out as being a storage facility for a local department store.”
He shook his head. “I don’t buy that, sir. With all respect to the investigators—”
“Are you saying our people are wrong, Knight?”
He held his breath. Then let it go.
“That’s what I’m saying, sir. Requesting permission to search the warehouse.”
“Denied. Now I’m going back home and get into bed. There’s still,” he checked his gold watch, “three hours left before dawn. Now get out of my office, men.”
The guys filed out, and when Dylan didn’t budge from the spot, Ben grasped his shoulder, each fingertip bruising. He knew when he removed his shirt, he’d be wearing four blue crescent marks.
Dylan turned for the door and didn’t stop walking until they were outside.
Ben glared at him. “That went well.”
He ran his fingers over his hair. “If this was Dahlia, you wouldn’t be standing there saying this to me. You’d have the hammer back as you ran into that warehouse.”
“So you’re admitting your feelings for the woman?” Ben asked.
“Look, are we new recruits on the bus about to be greeted by the drill instructor? Or are we fucking Knight Ops?”
Rocko was nodding. “I’m with ya, Dylan.”
Chaz hesitated only a heartbeat before stepping up. “Me too.”
“Goddammit, you fuckers are going to get us court martialed,” Ben rumbled.
Roades shook his shoulders as if limbering up for the fight. “Then we go down swingin’. Let’s go, Ben.”
Dylan yanked open the door of the black SUV and climbed behind the wheel. Chaz tried for shotgun, but Ben leveled a look at him that sent him to the back seat.
“I’m still the fucking captain of this team even if there’s a fucking mutiny at the moment. You’d better be fucking right about this, Dylan.”
He started the engine. “How many times you going to say fuck in the same paragraph? Maman would wash your mouth out with soap.”
“She’s too busy washing out Lexi’s. Since Tyler’s in Boot Camp, she’s decided she needs to step up and fill her sister’s shoes,” Chaz added.
“Jesus, is that right?” Dylan asked.
“Yes.” The answer came from Rocko, which earned a collective growl from the brothers.
“Didn’t we tell you to stay away from our little sister?” Ben twisted in the seat to glare at their team member.
Dylan glanced into the rearview mirror to see Rocko kicked back, relaxed. When he didn’t answer, Dylan’s brothers started arguing the point. But Dylan just focused on the road and drove. His mind was back with Athena. Sean would keep her safe—he had no worries on that front.
He wasn’t wrong in paying a visit to the warehouse, permission or not. He had to end this. Breaking some faces would feel pretty damn good right about now too.
The argument continued until the time he rolled up a block from the building. He cut the engine and turned in his seat to look at the men.
“Roades, you cut the security cameras.”
“Done.” He saluted Dylan.
“Chaz, you’re with Ben, Rock with me. Roades, as soon as you get those wires cut, we rally and go in together.”
“What are we looking for?” Chaz asked.
“Anything the investigators would have missed.”
“Wait a damn minute here. I’m still in charge of this team.” Ben’s voice stopped the conversation.
“Fine, then you’re responsible for getting us in and getting what we need,” Dylan said.
“All right.”
They all waited for his command.
Ben rubbed his knuckles over his jaw. “I’m not exactly sure what to look for either.”
Dylan gave a shake of his head. He’d say I told you so later, after Ben had a couple beers in him to soften the blow.
He looked at his team. “Look for labels that seem out of place or boxes with no labels at all. I think what we’re looking for would be hidden among the other crates.”
“And if we run into anybody?” Roades asked.
“Then we secure the threat.” Dylan’s no-nonsense tone was answered with no-bullshit nods. He put his hand on the door handle. “Let’s roll.”
Entering was a breeze and they shined flashlights on crate after crate, searching for something out of the ordinary. Roades took down one box and sliced it open, pulling out a plastic bag of men’s socks.
“This what we’re looking for, Dylan?”
“No, dickhead, it’s not and you know it. Stay on task.” Dylan moved through the towers of crates, reading labels. Suddenly, a sound made him stop dead. He jerked his head to the side.
“Keep low, weapons at the ready.” Ben’s quiet command came to them.
A box teetered and fell, making a loud thump on the concrete floor. Two guys rushed out from one aisle and then Knight Ops was in the thick of it.
Dylan pulled up and took aim. He ignored the throbbing of his heart and slowed his breathing for a split second before he took the shot. The man fell on his side and didn’t move again.
“Nice shot.” Rocko flashed a grin before sprinting after a
n assailant.
Dylan assessed the situation in a blink, tracking his own men and zeroing in on the enemy. Apparently these guys didn’t approve of somebody scoping out their warehouse and were armed for a damn good reason.
Because they had something to hide.
The faintest sound of a boot scuffing against concrete had him spinning. He whipped around his rifle and smashed the butt over the man’s eye. He screamed as bone shattered and dropped to his knees.
“I’ve got a prisoner,” Dylan called to his team.
“Good. Get him talkin’,” Ben responded.
On high alert for other attackers, he kicked the guy in the shin. “On your feet.”
When he didn’t move, Dylan commanded, “Now or I’ll find someone else to let live long enough to tell me what I need to know.”
The man swayed to his feet, blood dripping down his face from the butt to the face.
“Show me where the goods are.”
“You can’t steal them.”
Ah, so they believed they were being robbed. They were just a bunch of bodies standing guard.
Using this to his advantage, he shoved the man forward. “Take me to the goods.”
To his right, another shot exploded, and he jerked his head around. Roades had a guy pinned down around a huge crate. If the guy got desperate as a last chance at survival, things would get ugly.
Dylan had to do something. “I’ve got a clear shot.”
Roades’ voice came back gritty with suppressed fury. “Take it.”
He got the guy in his sights and took him out with a hit to the right shoulder, through the meaty part where no vitals were. Roades rushed around the corner and jumped the guy, confiscating his weapons and using zip-ties to immobilize him.
Dylan nudged his captive. “Get goin’.”
With a hand still holding his pulverized eye, he moved forward. They walked the length of one row of crates to the end and then turned right. Up another aisle.
“If you’re trying to throw me off, don’t bother. You can’t.”
“Just let me leave with my life. We’re supposed to guard this stuff but it isn’t worth never seeing my wife again.”