Defenseless (Somerton Security #1)

by Elizabeth Dyer

  “Yeah, well thank God you hover more than Marty McFly,” Parker said. “If you hadn’t sent Georgia, I’d be dead. No question.”

  “Okay, but why?” Ryan asked. “What the fuck was in those files?”

  “I can only speculate. After I logged in to the server and started opening documents, things went to shit pretty damn fast.” Ethan shook his head. “But based on what I saw? I think someone’s been using Parker’s program to engage in private for-profit operations.”

  War profiteering? Off his program? The one he’d designed to decrease risks and save lives? Parker pulled at the scarf wrapped around his neck. How dare they? How the fuck dare they!

  “A mercenary?” Liam asked.

  “Or a group,” Ethan continued.

  “How can you be sure?” Georgia asked.

  “I can’t,” Ethan said. “Not yet. But all the files I accessed had one thing in common—they all centered around private businesses with massive corporate profits at play. Oil, big pharma, things like that. Companies that would either benefit or suffer in the event of unchecked instability in the region.”

  And that was only the tip of it. Political instability was only one facet of what his program could combat. The possibilities were limitless—and so many of them were negative. This program was the best of him, a project he’d begun in school and perfected at the DoD. He’d only ever considered everything it could do to help, all the lives it could save.

  Power corrupts. He’d just never thought it applied to him.

  “Companies with deep pockets, you mean.” Ortiz scowled, as if the idea itself tasted bitter.

  Ethan nodded. “But I can’t prove it. Not yet, anyway.”

  “That doesn’t explain why someone’s trying to kill Parker.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Georgia said. “If anyone could prove Ethan’s theory true, it’s Parker. He knows more about his program than anyone else, and worse, he’s been party to the go/no-go discussions. He’d be integral to proving wrongdoing.”

  “Right,” Ethan said. “But it’s not just Parker at risk here. The moment I used my credentials to log in to the system and started accessing these files, a flag went up.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” Liam asked.

  “Meaning the minute I accessed more than one of those ‘hidden’ files, a command activated. Parker’s program ran a full threat analysis on every single one of us.”

  No. No, no, no, no. The freezing wind ceased to matter as everything in Parker flushed hot and furious. If the program had been activated, it wouldn’t just run a threat assessment. It would go far, far deeper than that.

  “As of right now, the program’s sole focus is the systematic takedown and destruction of our entire team.”

  Fuck. Parker struggled to breathe against the vise compressing his chest.

  “What about your contact at the DoJ? Any help from that quarter?” Liam asked.

  Ethan shook his head. “Until we have proof of what’s going on, I don’t trust anyone outside this group.”

  Parker choked on the hysterical laugh that tried to bubble up as an old movie reference—one of his favorites—crossed his mind. Shall we play a game?

  No. No, he didn’t want to play. Not this game. Not against a supercomputer with all his intellect and none of his weaknesses.

  “So what the hell do we do now?” Ortiz asked as Parker struggled against the urge to fall apart. To say fuck it all to hell and back, that there was nothing they could do.

  Ethan pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. “Now we stay alive long enough to prove it.”

  “How many did you get?” Parker asked, starting at the tiny drive Ethan held.

  Georgia still wasn’t certain she knew exactly what was going on, but she understood enough to know she was way out of her depth.

  “At least fifty, maybe more,” Ethan said, passing the memory stick off to Parker. “I didn’t have a lot of time once I realized what was happening, but I copied what I could.”

  “So what do we do now?” Ryan asked, running a hand over his shorn stubble.

  “Now we split up and go dark. Priority one has to be looking through these files,” Ethan said.

  Was he kidding? Priority one needed to be figuring out how to keep the US government from killing them all.

  “For what?” Ortiz demanded, the tight frown marring his face convincing Georgia she wasn’t the only one considering their priorities.

  “Right now it seems like there’s a lot of speculation and not much else. So what the hell are we supposed to do while Poindexter’s evil twin hunts us down?” Ortiz asked.

  “We can’t stay together,” Parker said. “It’s too dangerous. The program has too many statistics on how the CWU behave as a unit, how we operate in the field. Our best bet is to split up.” He sighed, shoving the drive into his pocket. “I’ll need some time to go through all this.”

  “How much time?” Georgia asked, wondering if the pit of uncertainty was to be her new normal. She’d signed up for seventy-two hours, for a simple protection detail. A detail that should be over. Ethan was here. Ryan was back. Parker had ample protection. Technically, he didn’t need her anymore. Which rendered her what? An unnecessary third wheel? A distraction? She wasn’t part of this, of them. She had no role within the CWU. She could go home.

  Should go home.

  Why wasn’t she rushing for the exit?

  “I won’t know the answer to that until I crack the files. I’ll have to search these the old-fashioned way, which could take a while.”

  “Yeah, but what are you even looking for, Parker?” Liam asked.

  “Proof,” Ethan said. “If we can’t prove misuse of assets and war profiteering, we’re screwed. Right now we’ve got to assume anyone outside our team could be implicated, and I’m sorry to say that includes a whole lot of highly influential and very powerful people. It won’t be enough to confirm our suspicions. If we want to live to see spring, we’ve not only got to verify our theory, we’ve got to prove it.”

  “So what now?” Georgia asked. Where was she supposed to go? She didn’t have any family left. And she’d be damned if she’d risk any of the few friends she had. Worse, she had a grand total of $300 in her bank account. DC rent was pricey, and outfitting her apartment had wiped out her savings. And even though payday was less than a week away, it hardly mattered. Direct deposit left a paper trail and ensured she’d have the money, just not be able to access it.

  “For now, we split up,” Ethan said. “Keep our communication to a minimum.”

  “The app should still be secure,” Parker said. “It’s on a private server, no government affiliations. Not even my program can access it.”

  “Okay,” Ethan said, stepping back from the table. “So we go our separate ways. Does everyone have somewhere they can go? Access to funds and supplies?”

  Of course they do, Georgia thought as everyone nodded. Every man here was part of a specialized task force. It would have been weird if they weren’t ready to move at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same. This was nothing she’d signed up for, nothing she was equipped to handle. What the hell was she going to do?

  “Georgia,” Ethan said, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, “you’ve got a choice here.”

  Oh goody. By the tone of his voice, behind door number one was pain and dismemberment, and behind door number two was waterboarding and bamboo shoots.

  “There’s a good chance you’re not implicated in any of this. No one knows I sent you to stay with Parker, and as far as the files at Somerton Security are concerned, you were given the standard number of days off post-assignment. You can call in tomorrow morning for a new job, and Sarah will get you set up. I can’t tell you that it’s entirely without risk, but in all likelihood, you can step right back into your life as if this little blip with Parker never happened.”

  Relief hit first, fast and hard, taking her breath in a heavy rush. Home. She could go home. For the first
time, her tiny apartment might actually feel worthy of the name.

  But next to her, Parker went suddenly stiff. She glanced at him, but he kept his gaze fixed on Ethan, refusing to look at her. Guilt rushed in, bringing indecision and reluctance. Which, really, told her everything she should need to know. There was no legitimate reason she should stay. Parker had the protection he needed. Professionally, Georgia was redundant. Which meant any reason she could possibly think of to stay was entirely personal, entirely unprofessional, and a complete dismissal of every instinct she had.

  “You said choice,” she said, turning away from Parker and back to Ethan.

  “You can come with Parker and me—but if you do that, there’s no going back. Any hope you have of resuming normal life fades with every second you take to decide—if you come with us, you’re stuck until this gets resolved.”

  He didn’t need to say “One way or the other”; Georgia heard it loud and clear. No matter what she chose, there was considerable risk involved—probably more than they even realized. Certainly, the easier decision would be to go home, call Sarah first thing in the morning, and get back to work. She wasn’t Parker, not by a long shot, but she could fabricate a decent enough paper trail to convince someone she’d been home, avoiding the inclement weather, for most of the weekend.

  Or . . .

  Or she could stay with Parker and . . . And what, exactly? Keep him alive? He had Ethan for that. Hold his hand? He hardly needed it. So, what then? No question the sex had been great. Phenomenal, even, but she wasn’t accustomed to making important life-and-death decisions based on the whim of her vagina. Not to mention she was pretty damn certain sex—no matter how amazing—wasn’t what Ethan had in mind when he’d said to make a connection.

  It made sense to go home. To put everything behind her. If Sarah assigned her someone new, she’d get the second chance Parker was meant to be, avoid the dreaded stench of french fries, and maybe, just maybe, live to see the New Year.

  Only problem was, she didn’t want to go. She wasn’t ready to turn her back on the growing connection she had with Parker. With him, in some incredibly convoluted way, things were easy. Sure, he was an overcaffeinated nerd with an IQ too high for his own good and a body determined to distract her, but he was also honest. He slipped right past her bullshit filter and settled in, warm and steady, next to her. Even better, he didn’t seem phased by her. Not intimidated or irritated—he truly didn’t seem to wish she were more feminine, less abrasive. He didn’t care that she could save his life or kick his ass. Walking away from Parker would mean walking away from the first person who genuinely liked her—a familiar comfort she hadn’t felt since Will died.

  And that right there told her everything she needed to know. If she stayed, it wouldn’t be because Parker needed her. It wouldn’t be because she thought she could help Ethan or felt an obligation to see things through. She’d stay because she wanted to. Because she was weak and desperate and lonely and, for a moment, Parker had filled that void in her life.

  But how long would that feeling last? Days? Weeks? Or just the amount of time it took to remove the threat against Parker’s life?

  How long would it take before Parker didn’t need her anymore? Before he walked away and she had to figure out how to go back to her empty apartment and her hearty African violet and figure out how to be alone. Again.

  “I’m in the way here,” she said around the lump in her throat. “I should go.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. Where she’d expected relief or approval, instead Ethan looked . . . surprised. Like he’d thought she’d stay. And Parker . . . Georgia could barely stand the split-second glance she cast in his direction. In the thirty-six hours she’d known him, Georgia had seen just about every emotion cross Parker’s face. Caffeine-deprived irritability. Focused intent. Playful regard. Stunned horror. But never had she seen him resigned. Never had she seen what it looked like when he’d expected more of someone who’d disappointed him.

  That his disappointment had the power to shame her so completely, so thoroughly, only reminded her of everything she risked if she didn’t go. She’d given this man far too much power already; she couldn’t afford to give him any more. Georgia sighed, her chest tight. Just once she wanted her life to be fair. Wanted to roll the dice on another person and believe that, just once, that path wouldn’t inevitably lead to hurt and heartache.

  “You’re sure?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah.” She nodded. She had to be. Parker was safe. She needed to ensure the same for herself.

  “All right,” Ethan said as he studied them. “Everyone should head out separately. Use different exits; don’t go at the same time. Parker and I will wait for the game to end, slip out with the crowds.”

  Ethan turned to Georgia. “You good with finding your own way back to DC?”

  “Yeah. I can take the Metro back into the city, walk from there.” It wasn’t like she was in any sort of rush to get home.

  “Time frames for check-in?” Liam asked.

  “Let’s say once every twenty-four. We can reassess as needed,” Ethan said.

  “You got it.” Ortiz clapped Parker on the shoulder. “You keep your head down, let us know what you need.”

  Parker nodded but didn’t say anything as, one by one, Ryan, Liam, Jones, and Ortiz all wandered away, Parker tracking each of them until they disappeared into the crowd.

  Finally, after long minutes had passed, Georgia made herself step away from the table. Made herself look at Parker as she said, “Be careful.” She nodded at Ethan, then forced herself to turn, to walk away before she lingered too long, before she couldn’t make herself go.

  As she turned down one of the ramps leading to the lower concourse, Georgia cast one last look at Parker. She caught his expression. Stumbled. Stopped before she could think better of it.

  How many times had Georgia worn that same look? The one that said, “Please don’t go” and “I’m alone again” and “Everyone leaves.” And worse, so much worse, the look that said, “I know they always will.”

  It shouldn’t have caught her off guard, seeing that look. She’d worn it often enough. When she and Will had buried their parents. When she’d climbed into the social worker’s car and driven away from her grandmother’s tidy trailer. When Will had aged out. When he’d enlisted. Every single time he’d deployed. When Isaac had told her in the bluntest way possible there was no future. Not with her.

  When she’d stood there, quiet and compliant as the notification officer told her Will was gone, knowing deep down she’d almost expected that last blow, that final piece of proof she would always, always be left behind. Left alone.

  She’d thought herself finally, blessedly immune to the pain.

  Right up until the moment she put that same expression on someone else’s face.

  On Parker’s face.

  She couldn’t do it, she realized. Couldn’t leave. And it wasn’t fucking fair, she thought as she turned, took that first halting step back. She knew damn well she couldn’t trust Parker not to leave her. Not to hurt her.

  But if it came to it, if she couldn’t find a way to hold herself apart, to keep herself safe, she’d weather the pain. Again. Learn to live with it. Again.

  But she’d be damned if she put that look on someone else’s face.

  She strode back, her spine straight, her heart in her throat.

  When Ethan turned, looked at her as if he was only half-surprised to see her there, she forced herself to say, “More brains than balls, right?” and ignore the grin that split Parker’s face.

  Georgia leaned against the cinder-block wall between the two restrooms and let the cold seep through her layers and into her skin. With any luck it would numb the tickle of panic pushing along her frayed nerves that pulsed and ebbed in waves she couldn’t control or predict. Acting against her own self-interest—she shook her head. She’d made the decision, so now she had to get on with living with it.

 
“Drown Parker in a toilet?” she asked when Ethan settled against the wall next to her.

  “Tempted, but no.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, scanning the crowds beginning to filter out of the stands and into the concourse. Two minutes left in a game with a point differential it would take time travel and eight Hail Marys to overcome, and it seemed a lot of fans had given up and were heading out. “Parker said, and I quote, ‘You may be my boss, but my dick is a rebellious little shit and refuses to cooperate with you standing there ready to critique the strength and color of my stream. Go the fuck away.’”

  Georgia took a sip of her coffee, concealing her grin. Yeah, that sounded about right.

  “So, want to tell me what led to your association with ‘the rebellious little shit’?”

  Georgia choked, coffee scorching her sinuses and threatening to come out her nose.

  “What?” She gaped at him. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t expected Ethan to pick up on the vibe between Parker and her, but she certainly hadn’t expected him to be so damn direct about it.

  “Let’s agree not to lie to each other, okay?” Ethan said, turning so he faced her. “We have neither the time for, nor the luxury of, hiding things.” He stared her down, as if his disapproval had some weight she’d actually recognize.

  Fine, if he wanted to play it that way. “We had a rough day, considered ice cream but, given the weather, opted for sex against the wall.” She shrugged, willing her blush to stay under the collar of her sweater. She smiled around a sip of coffee when Ethan swore.

  “Jesus, Georgia.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Too honest? It’s a bit hard to see the line of propriety when my boss is questioning me about my sex life.”

  “Don’t pretend I’ve offended your delicate sensibilities; we both know you don’t have any.”

  “Then don’t pretend you give a damn about who Parker sleeps with.” Georgia rolled her eyes. “Just say what’s on your mind, Ethan.”

  “Fine. I’m worried you’re too close to this.” He sighed. “You were leaving. Already halfway out the door. But one look back, and what? You just changed your mind?”