by Elle Kennedy
Whereas with Ash, she only had to hear his name to get excited. The smell of his warm skin had her feeling too tight inside her own skin. If he’d happened to smile at her with a sort of fond affection like Liam had displayed in the hospital room, Cate would’ve been a puddle on the floor.
Hearts are stupid.
Liam’s head jerked around.
She offered a sheepish look. “Did I say that out loud?”
He nodded.
She jutted her chin out defiantly. “Disagree with me?”
His lips curved upward in a sad smile. “Can’t argue with you. I agree a hundred percent with that sentiment.”
Then he ducked into the briefing room before Cate could ask him what he meant. She stared at his broad back, not quite sure how to take it. Hollywood had a love problem? That seemed impossible and probably spelled doom for the rest of the mere mortals.
“None of the leads are panning out. Everyone’s mouth is clamped tight or they don’t know shit,” Ash was reporting when Cate and Liam entered the war room.
All the operatives minus Abby, who was home with her toddler, were present for the meeting, which meant that the tiny space was packed. It was standing room only, and Cate made sure to stand as far away from Ash as possible. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who’d decided to exclude her from this briefing.
“Macgregor.” Noelle’s blond head swiveled toward the newcomer. “Good. You’re here. What’s your DEA contact say?”
Liam didn’t seem bothered that nobody took the time to say hello to him, but Cate noticed a few of the men tap his shoulder in greeting as he made his way to stand next to Kane. “Nothing,” he reported with the grim shake of his head. “They’re denying the leak came from them.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” Luke Dubois drawled. “No way that Rivera connects Cate with anything unless the photo is leaked.”
“Never said it wasn’t bullshit,” Liam agreed. “But that doesn’t change anything. I haven’t gotten squat from the DEA.”
“How about Aguilar?” Cate suggested. She stepped forward and slapped down the stack of photos she’d printed out in Timo Varela’s office before visiting her dad. The top one was a blown-up picture of Aguilar and another man.
“Where’d you get this?” Brow furrowed in suspicion, Ash looked at the table and then at her, clearly recognizing that this was a new photo and not one from the batch that had captured Rivera in the first place.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Cate answered, rolling her eyes. “Bailey was with me the entire time.”
Sean Reilly, Bailey’s husband, planted his hands on his hips. Accusation gleamed in his green eyes. “You said you were making a coffee run.”
Bailey grinned. “We got coffee.”
“What’re we looking at?” Noelle pushed at Ash, who stood glaring at Cate. When he wouldn’t budge, Noelle shoved him aside and examined the picture.
Cate flashed Ash a saccharine smile and got down to business. “The guy in the blue shirt is Aguilar. We saw him go into this cigar shop, which, according to the shopkeeper across the street, is owned by a known Rivera cartel sympathizer.”
“Jesus Christ. Why not just offer yourself up to them?” Ash exploded, throwing his hands in the air.
“We took a few pictures and left, asshole,” Cate spit back.
She was so tired of the team treating her like an imbecile. Every single one of them had gone target shooting with her. Jim had taken her into the jungle and trained her how to move soundlessly while tracking prey. Isabel had shown her the ins and outs of disguises—how it was more than just makeup and artfully used silicone implants, but the way you walked and talked and dressed. She wasn’t a child anymore. Why wouldn’t anyone see that?
She cast an angry glance at Ash. “We didn’t go in.”
“The coffee shop was across the street,” Bailey offered helpfully.
Ash rubbed his forehead in frustration and backed away from the table. Cate wanted to yell at him, but knew that any outburst of emotion would be used against her. God, she was going to end up with zero molars after grinding them together so hard.
“Aguilar has always been our best bet,” Noelle mused.
Kane gave her a rueful smile. “I hope you’re not thinking of kidnapping the minister of naval defense in a foreign country and torturing the information out of him.”
“We don’t have any other options.” Noelle pointed to the picture. “This guy isn’t our best lead. He’s our only lead.”
D nodded. “She’s right. We either pack up our toys and go home or we go after Aguilar.”
“No one’s packing up shit,” Noelle growled. “Mateo Rivera sent a hit squad after Cate, and my husband was fucking shot. I want this motherfucker’s head.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Luke murmured from his perch on the far table.
“We all want his head,” Trevor said quietly.
She whirled toward him, blue eyes blazing. “Yeah? Then let’s get off our asses and fucking do something about it!”
When Cate noticed several wary glances being exchanged, she bit her bottom lip in dismay. Noelle wasn’t the type of woman to come undone, but right now the assassin’s breathing was shallow and she was wringing her hands together. She was more worried about Jim than she was letting on, Cate realized, and that only made her own breaths go choppy.
What if Jim didn’t make it?
Exhaling slowly, Noelle swept her gaze around the room. The color was returning to her face, and when she spoke again, it was in her trademark icy tone.
“We need to know everything there is to know about Aguilar. Snatching him will be easy—making him talk might not be. So we need leverage. We need to find out what he eats, where he shits, who he fucks. And we need all of that information now.” She focused on the two gorgeous women near the door. “Bailey, Juliet, get some disguises. See if you can clean his house or office.”
“I’m going to make contact with the Barrios cartel,” Liam hedged in. “They might give me a meeting based on our history—I did business with them when I was deep cover. But I should probably have a product on hand, just in case. Do we have anything I can show them? Preferably an exotic?”
“I’ve got some African opium,” Ash offered. When all eyes swiveled toward him, he shrugged. “What? It’s good currency on the black market. I carry it in my go bag.”
Liam’s lips twitched. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
Cate shoved down a kernel of reluctant admiration. Ash was always prepared, always thinking two steps into the future.
“There’s no future between you and me.”
Before she could stop them, the hurtful words he’d thrown at her the last time they were together flew to the forefront of her mind, turning her admiration to bitterness. God, what a dick. She hated him.
But what she hated even more was that she was still attracted to the asshole. That her body still wanted to surround itself in his strong embrace. Her stupid heart still thought he was the best thing she’d ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on.
Annoyed with herself, she forced her attention back to Noelle, who was directing the rest of the crew.
“D, Kane, figure out what kind of supplies we’re going to need and how we’re going to get them. Ethan, work the expat community. Find out who can be bribed and what their prices are. We’ll need to get Jim out of the country without anyone knowing he’s down. Ash—”
“I’m on watch,” he interjected. “I’ll stake out Aguilar’s house tonight.”
“Take someone with you.” Noelle looked around the rapidly thinning room. People had taken their assignments and were leaving, the urgency of the situation not missed by anyone.
“I’ll go,” Cate volunteered.
“No way.” Ash couldn’t get his rejection out fast enou
gh.
“Why?” She stuck her chin forward. “And don’t say it’s too dangerous, because all we’re doing is watching. Unless you plan to kidnap a major military figure all by your lonesome?”
His expression darkened. “No, but this place is a hellhole and anything could happen. You shouldn’t even be here, let alone running around taking pictures.”
She met his angry gaze head-on. “Well, I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
Ash turned to Noelle, who arched a brow and said, “Cate goes with you.”
She didn’t even bother hiding her pleasure. “I’ll go get my camera,” she chirped, then scampered out of the room before Ash could say no again.
To her irritation, he followed close behind, arguing the entire way to the room she was sharing with Noelle. “Cate. Goddamn it, will you stop and listen to me? You’re not coming with. It’s too risky.”
Risky, her ass. She was so tired of Ash telling her what she could and couldn’t do.
“I was out there three hours ago with Bailey,” she shot back. “And here I am, not a scratch on me. You can’t hold me prisoner here. I have every right to—hey, stop that!”
She flew over and seized his arm before he could grab her bag from the bed. She’d had Kane pick it up for her from the hotel, and, luckily, all her documents were safe and sound. Apparently Rivera’s goons couldn’t be bothered to steal them.
Cate knew exactly what Ash was up to. He was going to try to take her passport, and that was not happening. But his arm was like steel beneath her fingers, and even when she dug her nails in his flesh, he didn’t flinch or draw away.
Nope, he plucked her passport out of the canvas bag and stuck it in his pocket.
“You’re staying here,” he said firmly. “Your dad needs you.”
“The hell he does. I’ve already watched most of my family die. Guess what? Not happening again. So either you take me with you or I go alone. You, of all people, should know that I make good on my threats.”
“Then, I’ll tell you now what I told you then: grow up. You’re not an operative. You’re a photographer.”
Each harsh, judgmental word slapped at her. “And all we’re doing is watching, unless you’re planning to go rogue and take out the general yourself, which we both know you won’t do because that would go against orders. And you never go against orders, do you, Ash?”
His jaw muscles ticked as he silently absorbed her insult. “You’re not coming,” he said finally.
“I’m still not hearing a good reason why not.”
“Because I don’t want you there,” he growled.
Cate lifted a shaking hand to her mouth to cover a gasp. Had he really just said that? “What?”
“I don’t want you there,” Ash repeated.
Yes. He really had said it.
And those parting words were effective, because when he marched out of the room, she didn’t argue or follow. Instead, she slumped onto the bed and dropped her head into her hands.
She should be used to his rejection by now. She really should be.
But she wasn’t, damn it.
No, David Ashton still had the power to hurt her, more than anyone else she knew.
Chapter 14
After the briefing ended, Sullivan shouldered his duffel and trudged down the hallway of the dormitory-style barracks where Guatana’s on-base soldiers resided.
Timo Varela was going above and beyond in proving his loyalty to Morgan. He’d offered up a block of rooms to Morgan’s team, along with twenty-four-hour security in the infirmary where Morgan remained in critical condition. Sully had yet to meet Varela, but when he did, he planned on kissing the bastard’s feet.
Without Varela’s aid, Morgan wouldn’t just be critical—he’d be fucking dead. And it was too risky for the team to stay anywhere else. In the current state that Guatana was in, the military bases were the most secure places in the country. Since those cartel bastards had already gone after Cate twice, the likelihood of them coming after her again was pretty bloody good, which meant that this base was the safest place for her, and for Morgan . . . if he made it through surgery.
Sully banished the unthinkable thought and approached the room he was going to be bunking in. His pulse sped up when he reached the open doorway.
Liam was sitting on one of the twin beds built into the wall. He was huddled over his phone, his dark eyebrows furrowed as he studied the screen.
Sully hesitated in the doorway, drawn to the deep crease in Liam’s perfect forehead.
That word—perfect—pretty much applied to every inch of Liam Macgregor’s movie star face. Chiseled features, piercing blue eyes, a tiny cleft in his strong chin. And his mouth . . . Sully had heard Trevor Callaghan’s wife, Isabel, gush about Liam’s lips more than once, how they had a perfect curve, just the right amount of fullness. He found himself staring at those lips now. They were pinched together, as if Liam wasn’t happy with whatever he was seeing on his phone.
“You coming in or what?”
Liam voiced the question without lifting his gaze from the phone.
Sully wasn’t surprised by that. His friend was former DEA—Liam always knew when he wasn’t alone.
“Hey.” He took an awkward step forward, shifting the strap of his duffel. “I’m gonna be crashing in here, if that’s cool.”
Liam nodded, then reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, drawing Sully’s attention to his friend’s sculpted biceps.
His gaze lowered to Liam’s chest, which was hugged by a white T-shirt that stretched across the hard ridge of abs, and then to the pair of long legs encased in olive-green cargo pants. Fuck. The man had a great body. Sully had noticed it the moment they’d met, but back then he hadn’t harbored any filthy thoughts about that body. Hadn’t once thought about getting Liam’s clothes off and running his hands over sinewy muscle and sleek skin.
Not until that gig in Paris, when tensions had run high and sexual awareness cropped up out of nowhere, leading to an impulsive kiss that Sullivan now regretted. That one stupid kiss had set off a sequence of events that had all but destroyed their friendship.
“How are you?” Liam asked quietly.
He offered a wry smile. “Why, does the answer to that question determine whether I can room with you?”
Liam cracked a smile in return. “We’re still on that?” He gestured to the other bed. “Room away, dude. It’s not like we’re swimming in spare beds around here.”
Sully’s bag hit the floor with a plop. He sat on the opposite twin bed, forearms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward. Liam assumed the same position, and Sully would’ve smiled if it weren’t for the grave look in his friend’s eyes.
“I mean it, Sully. How are you?”
He sighed. “I’m not on smack, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Last time we spoke was a year ago. You can’t blame me for wondering.”
“Guess I can’t. But don’t worry, the drugs have been out of my system since I got on the boat in Portugal.”
“And the cravings?”
He swallowed his discomfort. “They still come every now and then. Not often, though.”
But when they did . . . Jesus. It usually happened in the middle of the night. He’d wake up from a dead sleep, sweating, shuddering, hands shaking as he remembered the euphoric thrill surging through his veins.
He wasn’t sure if his addictive tendencies were hardwired into his genetic makeup or if he was just really fucking weak when it came to vices, but it’d always been that way for him. Alcohol, he could take or leave, but drugs, cigarettes, sex . . . he wasn’t the kind of bloke who could have just one. One smoke? Nah, a whole pack. A joint? Sure, and maybe he’d snort some coke after. Blow job? Bring it, and then seven more rounds of sweaty, mind-draining animal sex.
He was addicted to pleasure. Or at
least he had been before he’d been locked up in Mendez’s dungeon. Since then, he’d gotten a few BJs when he was on the mainland, but for the most part his libido had stayed dormant. Except for the nights when the cravings came. Those nights, he’d replaced the need for drugs with some serious jack-off sessions. Tried to distract himself by coming hard enough to make him forget about the high.
The only problem was, his fantasies were equally destructive, so eventually he’d stopped doing that too.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten off. Six, seven months ago?
“Sully?”
Shit. He’d gotten lost in his fucked-up head again. “Sorry, what?”
His friend’s expression was full of concern. “I didn’t say anything. You just . . . look upset.”
“I’m good,” he said lightly. “I’m always good.”
“Sure, man, if you say so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Liam shrugged.
“Tell me what you meant by that,” he demanded.
“It means that you’re full of shit,” Liam retorted, a note of frustration in his voice. “It’s not all good. Sometimes it is, but when it’s not, you still say it is. You lie.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You psychoanalyzing me now, mate?”
“No. Just stating a fact. I know you. You like to pretend that nothing bothers you, but we both know it does.”
He didn’t like where this conversation was heading, so he changed the subject. “How’s Boston?”
Liam chuckled, seeing right through Sullivan’s tactics. The man knew him too damn well. “Boston’s great,” he said vaguely.
Yeah, right. Sully knew Liam just as well, and he had no trouble reading between those lines. “You still working with your brother?”
“Yup.”
“You . . . ah . . . seeing anyone?”
Liam’s blue eyes went shuttered. “I was. Ended it before I came here.”
“Why’s that?” He kept his tone careless, but inside he was desperate for an answer.