Which was precisely as it should be. There was no compromising the identity of HOT. Ever.
“Nope, it was just a platoon,” Matt replied with a sarcasm he didn’t feel. Jim Matuzaki and Marco San Ramos weren’t ever coming home again because of him. Because he hadn’t listened to his gut that night.
Not a day went by when he didn’t think about them. Two guys he’d shared dusty foxholes and claustrophobic caves with, who’d watched his back more than once. He’d failed them by not scrubbing that mission. He’d wanted to get Jassar ibn-Rashad and save lives, but he’d lost two instead.
Ibn-Rashad was still out there. Still planning to kill.
And Matt might not ever get a chance to do a damn thing about it. His future with HOT was shaky at best after the failure of the last op. His team had been inactive for weeks while other HOT teams came and went. They’d had to sit and watch others go into the field, knowing they’d failed at their task, knowing others were in danger because of them.
Soon, he’d find out his fate. Next week, when he left Rochambeau, he had to attend a hearing on what had gone wrong out there in the desert. He would take responsibility for what had happened to his team, and he might never go on another operation again. His days in HOT very well could be over.
The place where he’d been shot still throbbed. The bullet—a long, ugly mother called a 7.62x39—had pierced the skin, but it had lost momentum going through his assault suit and gotten stuck without passing into his body. He’d been lucky that day, even if he hadn’t deserved it. And luckier still when another HOT squad infiltrated the camp and rescued his team before the rest of them could be killed.
Standing here now, in a beauty salon in Rochambeau, was surreal at best. That sense of unreality he’d been living with for the last couple of months grew stronger. What the hell was he going to do if he got assigned to a desk for the rest of his career? It would, in effect, be a demotion, even if they never stripped him of rank.
And it would mean the end of everything that made any sense to him.
“So how’s Christina doing?” Julie asked. “I haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks now.”
“Fine. Nervous, maybe, but fine.”
“That’s good. She’s nice, your sister.” Unlike you remained unspoken.
“She is indeed.”
Julie’s gaze dropped over him then. “So you gonna be at the lake tonight?” she asked, switching gears on him so fast he had to shake off a sense of whiplash.
He looked at Evie, didn’t miss the look of disbelief that crossed her face as she glanced up from the appointment book. Her cousin had just performed a one-eighty turn at ninety miles an hour, going from hostile to flirtatious in a heartbeat.
“Probably not.”
Julie stuck out her lower lip. “Too bad.”
Definitely a sexual vibe there. He tried to imagine it. Couldn’t. But he could imagine it with Evie. It’d been far too long since he’d had a woman, and though Evie was the wrong woman for a variety of reasons, he couldn’t help but think about it.
“Great news, Jules,” Evie said. “Mama can fit you in in about an hour.”
“Sounds good,” Julie said as she went and leaned on the counter beside Evie.
“Will you be there tonight?” Matt asked Evie as she penciled her cousin’s name in the appointment book. He didn’t know why he was asking, since he had to attend a formal dinner for Christina and her fiancé tonight. But he wanted to know.
She looked up, her gaze locking with his, and he felt the jolt inside, right at gut level.
“No.”
Julie pinched her arm. “Yes, you will. I promised everyone I’d bring you. You’ve been in town for almost a month and you keep promising to go. It’s been so long, and everyone misses you.”
Evie looked skeptical and Matt felt a throb of irritation at her cousin. “I really don’t think—” Evie began.
“Aw, Evie, come on. It’s just one night. Don’t be so stuck up.”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Evie was clearly not happy with the idea. She put the pencil down and grabbed Julie’s arm. “Let’s go get some lunch. Give your sister my congratulations, in case I don’t see her before Saturday,” she said to Matt.
The two of them headed for the back of the shop, disappearing behind the same flowered curtain she’d emerged from earlier. Matt turned and sank down on the pink vinyl seat again, feeling oddly numb and out of place.
He was home in a pink nightmare of a salon, Evie hated him, and Jim and Marco were dead. The contrast was so stark, so gut-wrenching. Half the time he just wanted to shout at everyone that they had no idea what kind of things happened out there in the world and how dare they go on as if everything was normal, but the rational part of him knew they wouldn’t understand. Not only that, but they’d also think he was crazy.
He thought of Evie’s dark hair and flashing eyes. For a few minutes, she’d made him feel grounded. Real. Now he felt the way he had for the past two months: as if he were walking around with his guts on the outside.
“You ready, sugar?” Norma Breaux said then, whipping Matt from his dark thoughts. She shook out a hot-pink plastic smock and wrapped it around his neck as he sat down in her chair.
He was ready for anything these days.
And none of it good.
*
French Quarter, New Orleans
The files were gone. The computer. Everything. He’d been careless. David West melded into the shadows of the building, peering into the dark alley. Rivera’s grunts had been in his room. He couldn’t go back, nor could he verify what he knew to be true. But he didn’t need to. He’d seen them, seen Brianna Sweeney leaving with her two thugs in tow.
Once, he’d been one of them, doing as he was told, moving into an area and enforcing Ryan Rivera’s will. He’d been the bean counter, much higher on the brain meter than any of those three, but he knew them intimately. Had worked with them countless times.
Most recently with Brianna in Florida at a place called Evangeline’s. He thought he’d evaded the organization this time, but sonofabitch if he hadn’t quite done it after all.
He’d wanted out, but apparently once Rivera had a hold of you, you never got out.
Cold sweat dripped down his spine. He’d blown it. He should have moved on by now, but he’d holed up here for the past two weeks instead, indulging in the decadence and sin the Quarter had to offer. He’d gotten cocky, and he’d gotten stupid. He’d been so sure he’d covered his tracks. He was going by a new name, and he always paid in cash.
He’d left Florida five months ago, moving around constantly until he’d landed here. He’d been safe, goddamn it! Certain he’d pulled it off. How had they found him?
He shook his head. It still swam from one too many absinthe drips. He pressed a hand to the damp brick to steady himself and swallowed down a flood of acid in his throat. The sounds of revelry and jazz wafted down the alley from Bourbon Street. The air was hot and sweet, saturated with humidity, liquor, and the smells of spicy food.
David sucked in a sharp breath against the bile rising in his throat. Brianna had his files now, the bitch. Panic flooded him. Briefly, he wondered if she would negotiate. If she would consider a cut of the money he’d taken to give them back again.
He put his forehead against the brick and breathed deep. Fuck no, she wouldn’t negotiate. He knew that. He’d tried once before when he’d sensed she was as sick of working for Rivera as he was.
But Brianna was tough, and she wasn’t caving. And now he was out here with his dick swinging in the wind. He had no guarantees without those files. The money wouldn’t do him a damn bit of good if he was dead.
It had taken years to build the dossier. It was his protection, his assurance that Rivera wouldn’t send anyone to kill him. So long as he had the files, he was safe. Or so he’d told himself—except that he hadn’t quite believed it enough to live out in the open under his own name.
He should have set up an onl
ine backup, but he’d been too worried it would somehow fall into the wrong hands. He didn’t want evidence of Rivera’s crimes—and his by extension—sitting on a server somewhere just waiting for the Feds to find it.
It was different if he traded it for immunity, but to have the Feds get all the info without him having it as a bargaining chip?
Not happening.
Goddamn it!
Right now, he almost wished he’d taken the chance. If he had parked those files somewhere online, he wouldn’t be standing here and cursing himself six ways to Sunday. He’d only be a simple download away from replacing the evidence, but instead the files were gone and he was as vulnerable as a virgin in a whorehouse.
He should have moved to a new location by now. That was the second dumbass thing he’d done. He’d stayed here when he should have gone south and kept going until he nearly fell off the tip of South America. He was tired of doing Rivera’s dirty work, tired of being the brains behind the financials and getting nothing in return. Hell, Rivera hadn’t even recognized how valuable an asset he could be.
But David had gotten the last laugh when he’d skimmed a cool ten million for himself out of the Florida operations. He wasn’t greedy—Rivera was worth far more—but he wanted his due.
Yeah, he’d run Evie’s business into the ground in the process. Maybe he shouldn’t have done it. Her paltry earnings were only a drop in the bucket of his ten mil—but it had gotten him what he wanted faster than if he’d waited another few months to skim the money out of Rivera’s operations. Simply put, he’d had no choice if he wanted his freedom. And he wanted that far more than he’d wanted anything else.
David shook his head again. It wasn’t too late for him yet. Rivera probably thought he had him between a rock and a hard place. But Rivera didn’t know a damn thing about him if he believed that.
There were other kinds of backups. Other ways to hide information. David just had to go and sweet-talk Evie one more time. A much more difficult task this time around, not only because she was pissed at him but also because Brianna Sweeney was on his ass.
But desperation had a way of making a man do whatever it took. He would get those files back again.
And then he would disappear for good.
CHAPTER THREE
EVIE FROWNED AT HERSELF IN the mirror as she turned this way and that.
“You look gorgeous, Evie. Now let’s get moving.”
Evie turned to her cousin with a sigh. “It’s a lovely dress, but I’m not quite sure it’s appropriate for an evening at the lake.”
What she really wanted was to pull on her faded jeans and a T-shirt, but Julie wouldn’t hear of it.
As expected, Julie scoffed. “Please. We’ll be at the pavilion—and the other girls will be dressed up too, you’ll see.”
Julie smoothed a hand over the denim mini she wore. She’d paired it with a silk tank and a pair of pink platforms, and she looked gorgeous. Julie was petite and cute, whereas Evie was tall and not so cute.
Evie tugged at the hem of the dress. It was a pale pink color with wide straps and a skirt that was a hair too tight. And short. The three-inch heels Julie had talked her into wearing didn’t help either. “It’s a bit short, don’t you think?”
Julie shook her auburn ringlets. “No. It looks amazing on you! That dress has never looked as good on me. Blush is so not my color.”
Evie sighed and gathered the tiny purse Julie had insisted she carry. “This really isn’t me, Jules. I’m a chef. I work in hot kitchens all day and I wear comfortable clothes.”
“You aren’t a chef right now,” Julie pointed out. “Think of it like you’re on vacation. Everybody gets dressed up on vacation, right?”
“Yes, but I don’t feel like I’m on vacation.”
Julie huffed. “Is this about Matt Girard and what happened back in high school?”
Evie felt a tiny pinch in her chest. “Of course not.”
Julie looked militant. “Good. Because that was high school, Evie, and we aren’t there anymore. No one gives a good goddamn that you slept with Matt our junior year or that he bragged about it. Half those girls would have dropped their panties in a New York second if they’d thought he’d give them a lay. Still would.”
Evie’s skin was hot and she wasn’t quite sure why. Because Julie was right, and she really didn’t give a shit what people thought about her these days—her reaction in the salon notwithstanding. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and she couldn’t be hurt by whispers and rumors.
No, her issues with this town were the same issues she’d always had—the ones where she felt like there was a box she was supposed to stay in and she just didn’t want to. Aside from that, her only problem today had been coming face-to-face with the boy she used to love and remembering the way he used to make her feel.
“Fine, I’ll wear it. Let’s go.”
“Excellent,” Julie replied. “Besides, you look hot—and you want to impress Matt, don’t you?”
Evie’s stomach bottomed out. “Why would I want to do that?” She waved a hand. “He’s old news. Besides, he’s not coming, remember?”
Julie laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. “Right. Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you today? He’ll be there.”
“He wasn’t looking at me any way. We were just talking.”
Julie shook her head. “Girl, I think the heat in those kitchens has gone to your head. Matt Girard is just about the hottest thing on two legs, and he was definitely looking at you with interest. He wants in your panties again, trust me.” Julie grinned. “And if you’re smart, you’ll let him.”
Evie felt as if her cheeks were six shades of fuchsia. The last time she’d let a man in her panties, she’d lost her damn restaurant. And though the thought of Matt there made her body tingle in ways it hadn’t in a very long time, there was no way she was going to repeat the mistakes of her past. They might not be teenagers, and she might not give a damn what anyone said these days since she was no longer vulnerable, but sleeping with Matt was just a bad idea all around.
Her feelings for Matt had always been a giant tangle, like a ball of Christmas lights buried in the garage all year, and she really didn’t want to start sorting them out again.
“He won’t be there, Jules. Mark my words.”
Julie sighed. “Fine. But he will be in town for a few days, so do yourself a favor and don’t push him away when he comes around. You definitely need to get laid.”
Evie shook her head. “Maybe so, but he’s the wrong man to do it.”
Julie snorted. “Well, I can promise you one thing. If he looks at me that way, I’m not saying no.”
“Go for it,” Evie said, though a little twinge of jealousy speared into her at the thought.
“There’s always Jimmy Thibodeaux, if you insist on saying no to Matt. He’s been asking after you since he got back.”
Evie frowned. Jimmy had been one of the worst back in high school after Matt had left. Always calling her Easy Evie and grabbing her ass. She’d hated him then. She didn’t much care for the idea of him now since she’d heard he hadn’t changed much. Thankfully, he’d been away in Montana on a hunting trip for most of the month and she hadn’t yet had the dubious pleasure of running into him again.
“I’ll pass.”
Julie shrugged. “Probably best. Jimmy’s not been quite right in the head lately. He pulled a knife on Ginny Temple a couple of months ago.”
Evie’s heart somersaulted. “What do you mean?”
“She said something about his hunting dog crapping on her lawn and Jimmy waved that knife around like he was some kind of avenger. But nothing came of it.”
Evie shook her head. Damn crazy Cajun redneck. She hadn’t missed that about Rochambeau at all. “And you were seriously suggesting I should sleep with him?”
Julie’s mouth turned down. “Of course not! I was kidding. Geez, you’ve lost your sense of humor lately.”
“It hasn’t been a good few months, Ju
les.”
“Which is why I said you should get laid. Take your mind right off it. But no Matt and definitely no Jimmy.” She patted Evie’s arm. “We’ll find someone.”
“I’d rather we didn’t.”
Julie grinned. “We’ll see. Now let’s stop talking about it and get going.”
Evie’s little sister looked up from her position in front of the television as they walked through the living room. Evie’s heart twisted at the look on the girl’s face. Evie had been home a month now, and Sarah was still sullen and withdrawn.
Not that she could blame the kid. There was ten years difference in their ages, and Evie hadn’t exactly been around for the past few years. No, she’d been off doing her own thing and calling home on occasion rather than making an effort to be a part of her little sister’s life. She hadn’t thought of it much at the time, but being home and seeing the effects—well, it made her feel rotten every time she saw that wary look on Sarah’s face.
“Where are y’all going looking like that?” Sarah was curious, but her tone said she couldn’t care less.
“It’s a party.” Julie put her hands on her hips. “For adults.”
Sarah snorted. “Yeah, I figured that.”
“I don’t have to go,” Evie said, though Julie made a noise when she did. “Is there something you want to do tonight? We could go for pizza, or maybe a movie?”
Sarah turned back to the TV and pressed the channel button. “I ate pizza for lunch. And there’s nothing at that lame theater I want to see.”
Evie sighed. “Mama’s at the Moose Lodge for the evening. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
Sarah’s eyes flashed. “I know where Mama is. She’s been going to bingo every week for the past four years. Not that you would know that.”
Julie bristled. “You need to lighten up, little girl. Your sister’s had a bad time of it and she could use your support.”
Sarah shot to her feet. “Yeah, well why do I have to be nice to her when she’s never thought twice about me and Mama? Went off to that fancy cooking school and forgot all about us. Now she’s back and thinks we’re supposed to care? Like hell.” Sarah tossed the remote onto the couch and stalked toward her bedroom.
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