by Joss Wood
Reagan dropped her shoulders and nodded. “We obviously, despite the fact that you and my brother were so close, are never going to be friends. I know I’m a lot to handle and not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m too independent, too argumentative, I like doing things my way, the list goes on. It’s okay for us not to like each other, so let’s just call it quits, okay? We’ll keep our conversations to the minimum and when we do have to talk, let’s try to be grown-ups and be civil, okay?”
The Silent One remained silent, so Reagan walked inside the house, shut the front door behind her, and rested her forehead on the wooden door.
“What the hell just happened?” Axl asked from the other side of the door.
Reagan released a long sigh and readily, silently, admitted that she wasn’t quite sure. Axl, being the contrary and annoying person he was, had kissed her and flipped her world inside out and upside down. Because he’d kissed her, softly and gently and with a reverence that terrified her, she’d mentally bolted and tried to put some distance between them.
And, because she was contrary and as annoying as he was, she thought that she’d maybe, possibly, just broken up with her brother’s best friend, with the man who wasn’t her boyfriend, who wasn’t even her friend.
Reagan yanked open the door. “Go away, I need to walk the perimeter, check that everything is okay before I go up.”
Axl frowned at her. “That’s not your job, Reagan. There are Cas operatives doing that as we speak.”
“I need to do it.” Reagan folded her arms and lifted her chin. She’d never be able to sleep unless she, personally, checked that all was quiet.
“Go to bed, Hudson.” Axl used his commanding officer voice and she knew she was treading on thin ice. But she took another step anyway.
“In a minute. It won’t take me long.”
“Reagan, get back in that house and go to bed. That’s an order.”
Reagan met Axl’s hard eyes and knew that she’d pushed him too far, that the man who’d kissed her was gone and that her boss, hard and unyielding, had taken his place. Shit. Even she wasn’t fool enough to cross him when he had his disobey-me-and-face-the-God-awful-consequences expression on his face.
“And don’t ever walk away from me again mid-discussion.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Reagan countered.
“I was wading through your bullshit.” Axl pushed his hand into his hair and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, and if we carry on, fighting is exactly what we’ll do. You’re exhausted and I’m pissed and it won’t be pretty. Just go on in, okay?”
That was a really, really good idea, even if it was his. Besides, she’d lost this round. It was time to retreat. She whirled around and slammed the front door closed. It was a childish gesture but it made her feel better. Reagan ran up the stairs and headed for her bedroom, thinking that she’d wait until Axl left and then she’d slip out and do a final check. Reagan stepped into her bedroom and felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and swiped her thumb across the screen to pull up the message.
I have issued an instruction that I am to be notified if you leave the house at any point tonight. The operatives on duty, unlike you, will not disobey my order.
Reagan pulled a tongue at the screen, frustrated at losing the battle. That’s okay, she wouldn’t lose the war.
***
The next morning, Axl stood by the rectangular window in the Caswallawn conference room and looked out onto the sodden training ground below him. Mac, one of their head trainers, was putting a bunch of new recruits through their paces on the obstacle course and, judging by his red face and gesticulations, he wasn’t happy with their efforts. Axl leaned his shoulder into the cold glass and watched a young woman attempt to scramble over a slippery rope net, her face and head covered in mud.
No upper-body strength, Axl idly noted. Mac should drop her from the course . . . Then the woman pulled in a hard breath and gathered all her strength to reach the top of the net and roll over. No upper-body strength but a lot of mental strength. She could work on her muscles but training her brain was a lot harder.
Without turning around, Axl spoke. “Who is the brunette training with Mac?”
“Haley King,” Sawyer replied.
Sawyer had a near-perfect memory and could probably recite her entire jacket.
“She’s tough,” Axl commented.
“Really?” Axl turned around at Sawyer’s response and saw his frown.
“Physically she’s not where she should be,” Sawyer told him. “Today was her last chance to impress Mac or she’s out.”
“I suggest that we keep her. She’s tough and she’ll surprise you. If anyone, I’d drop the hotshot who belted over the course, eager to impress. No idea of teamwork and only concerned about himself.” Axl placed his butt on the windowsill and dropped the back of his head onto the cool glass. Moving on from the cadets outside—Sawyer and Mac would ultimately decide who to can and who to keep—he nodded at the papers scattered on the conference table.
“We done here?” he asked, referring to their partners meeting. They’d ironed out a couple of issues but, in a nutshell, business was good. Very good.
Sawyer nodded and linked his fingers on his stomach. “Yep. Anything else on your mind?”
Axl gripped the edge of the sill with his fingers and looked at his friends. “This situation with Reagan has me worried.”
Sawyer and Kai exchanged wry smiles and Axl felt his temper bubble. Before they could open their mouths and utter a patronizing comment that would result in his boot up one of their asses, he spoke again. “When we were on an op, did you trust me? My instincts?”
Sawyer frowned and Kai looked thoughtful. It was Kai who eventually answered him. “You know we did, Axe. We changed our plans, operations, a few times because we trusted you, and thank God we did or none of us would be sitting here.”
He still wasn’t reconciled to the fact that he’d had absolutely no premonitions about Mike’s death, no feeling of impending doom, no inner voice telling him to take another route. Mike’s death, that explosion had come totally out of the blue. Guilt still, ten years later, gnawed at his innards. He would not fail Mike again by letting something happen to his sister. Having another Hudson’s death on his conscience was going a step, or twenty, too far.
He’d felt it when he kissed her, felt the bubble of concern that he always felt when he thought about her morph into something stronger, something brighter, hotter, ten times more dangerous. Passion mingled with fear, desire with trepidation. When he finally fell asleep last night—horny and worried, a very uncomfortable combination—he’d recalled, in perfect detail, Mike’s last minutes. His blood soaking that dusty street, his eyes wide and scared. In the dream, unlike that horrible day, Mike grabbed his shirt and begged him to save Reagan. He’d promised, and Axl didn’t care if it was a promise made in dreamland. He’d failed Mike once but he wouldn’t do it again.
Axl rubbed his hand across his mouth and chin. Reagan was in danger and he needed to protect her. End of story. The rest of the woo-woo shit didn’t need to be explained. He’d sound like a crazoid if he even tried to.
So he kept it simple. “I have a really bad feeling about Reagan and this assignment.”
His partners looked skeptical and he couldn’t blame them. When it came to Reagan he’d cried wolf once, or ten times, too many.
Axl stared down at his flat-soled boots before hoisting an ankle up onto his knee. “It’s not me being a pain in the ass about what she does and her working here. I’m genuinely worried.”
Kai stood up and went to the credenza, where a coffee machine stood. He shoved a short, clean mug under the nozzle and pushed a button, and when he had a full cup of espresso he walked it over. Axl took the mug and smiled his thanks.
“Okay, talk it through,” Kai said an
d returned to the machine to make another espresso.
Axl inhaled the strong aroma coming off the liquid. A coffee machine that dispensed hot, aromatic coffee was just one of the many perks of owning a company that made money hand over fist. “When I heard that you’d given her the Callow assignment, Kai, I commandeered the plane and flew over.”
Sawyer frowned. “You did? At over three thousand dollars an hour?”
Axl narrowed his eyes at Sawyer. “I also did a snatch-and-grab in New York before flying up here. A father took his baby daughter and I restored her to her mother, who had custodial rights.”
“I’m still not happy that you did that job alone,” Kai stated.
“You went in alone?” Sawyer demanded. “You said you wouldn’t do that, Axl!”
Axl stifled his sigh of frustration and made an effort to keep his voice calm. “The father was a stockbroker, overweight and as threatening as a wet noodle. If I couldn’t take him alone then I should not be doing this job.”
“Still, we have a policy for a reason . . .”
Axl interrupted Kai’s nagging. “Do you want to hear my thoughts on Reagan’s situation or not?”
Kai tossed him an annoyed glare but gestured for him to continue. “Carrying on, I flew up here because I really had a bad feeling about her taking this particular assignment.”
“You think every assignment Reagan takes on is a bad idea. You’ve never wanted her to work here,” Sawyer said.
He couldn’t argue with the truth. “Look, I admit that I might be overprotective about Reagan—”
“Big of you,” Kai interjected, his tone super dry.
“—but I generally don’t go out of my way to press home my point.”
Two sets of eyebrows rose and he felt the juvenile urge to roll his eyes. “I’ve never come to Mercy to specifically bitch about Reagan,” he clarified.
“That’s true,” Sawyer dryly agreed. “You normally just bitch on the phone or via FaceTime.”
Maybe bitch hadn’t been the right word to use. Anyway, moving on. “Since then, the feeling that something . . .” God, how did he explain this without sounding kooky? “. . . dark, something dangerous is stalking her has just gotten worse. And it’s not over yet.”
Kai and Sawyer didn’t speak for a long time, and Axl just waited them out. They either believed him or they didn’t. Either way, he’d make damn sure that Reagan was safe.
Kai sat down on the edge of the conference table, picked up a pen, and flicked the cap against the dark wood surface. He turned to Sawyer, who was looking equally contemplative. “What do you think?”
“Discounting Axe’s spooky sense, which I am loath to do, I still think we have a cause for concern. Whether the UNSUB knew whether there were people inside or not, a firebomb is a pretty dramatic statement. And they took a chance; Reags said that there were still people on set, milling about.” Sawyer rubbed his jaw. “If I add your spidey sense to the mix, then I feel anxious.”
“Reagan won’t let you pull her from the case,” Kai told him.
“She doesn’t make those decisions.” Axl shot the words out.
“I have no intention of pulling her,” Sawyer said, his tone brooking no argument. He lifted his hand to stop Axl’s instinctive urge to argue. “Axl, she’s done nothing wrong and she’s an excellent PPO. She saved a kid from a burning building and we’d repay her bravery by putting her on forced leave or reassigning her? We wouldn’t do that to any other PPO and I am not going to disrespect her by doing that to her!”
“But she’s Reagan, Mike’s sister.”
“And she’s an adult and she’s very aware of the risks of this job.” Sawyer looked resolute. “Again, I wouldn’t do it to any of our other PPOs and I’m not doing it to her.”
Axl blew out a long breath. “Shit, Sawyer.”
“I get that you don’t want anything to happen to her and I don’t either. But we’ll do this another way, in a way that doesn’t damage our relationship with her.”
This wasn’t going how he’d hoped. “Okay, how?” Axl challenged him.
“I’ve employed a private investigator, someone who has a very good rep at solving these types of cases,” Sawyer replied. “I’ve drawn up a roster to protect both Knox and his son so that the responsibility of protecting them is not all on Reagan’s shoulders.”
“She’ll think it is,” Axl muttered.
“I will make it clear to her that it isn’t. Look, apart from the fact that they are in danger, this could be a PR nightmare for Cas if anything went wrong. He’s a high-value, high-profile client, and if the situation deteriorates, we’ll be crucified.” Sawyer placed his elbows on the table. “As soon as the press find out he’s in Mercy, then we’ll be under intense scrutiny.”
It was an additional stress to a situation that was already revving in the red zone.
“Has she been evaluated lately?” Axl demanded. All Caswallawn’s PPOs were evaluated on a yearly basis to check that the operatives had maintained the skills they needed to be effective. Failure meant a lack of assignments. “For her safety, and also Callow’s, I’d like to check that she’s as good as she needs to be.”
Sawyer tapped the keyboard on his laptop. “She’s due in about three months. I can pull her in and get Mac to put her through her paces.”
“I’ll do it,” Axl stated. “Mac has a soft spot for Reagan.”
“C’mon, Axl!” Kai scoffed. “That is precisely why Mac would never allow Reagan in the field unless she was in tip-top condition. He wouldn’t let anyone operate if they didn’t meet all the requirements.”
Axl had to admit the truth of Kai’s statement. Mac was ultra-protective of the men and women he trained, and he was being unfair. But, shit, this was Reagan they were talking about. Why wasn’t anyone taking that into account?
“Besides, if you evaluated Reagan, I run the risk of her putting a bullet in you or you strangling her,” Sawyer muttered, his expression grim. “Neither of which we can afford.”
“We’re not that bad,” Axl protested.
“Oh, hell, yes you are,” Sawyer shot back. “Seriously, you are both a pain in our”—Sawyer gestured to Kai—“collective asses.”
“Someone has to be,” Axl countered.
“Yeah, but you two don’t have to be so damned good at it,” Kai said, exchanging a look with Sawyer. Axl saw Sawyer’s small nod and braced himself for the next volley. Then Kai nailed him with one of his rare I’m-serious-but-you’re-fucked looks.
“Axl, you need to resolve whatever the issue is between you and Reagan. We’re sick of the tension between you two, sick of being in the middle, feeling like we need to take sides, listening to you bitch about Reagan and Reagan bitching about you. The two of you need to sort your shit out. You’re the partner here, so you’re going to make sure that happens.”
Axl returned Kai’s hot look with a scorcher of his own, but when Kai didn’t drop his eyes, didn’t back down, Axl knew that he wasn’t dicking around.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. His partners asked nothing from him and never told him what to do. They had to be truly pissed about how he and Reagan interacted for Kai to be so pointed and direct.
Axl finally nodded. “I hear you.”
“Good,” Kai responded, moving toward the door. “Let’s head into town and con breakfast out of my fiancée.”
Chapter Three
CoolGranny: Knox Callow! He can park his shoes under my bed. Just sayin’.
SawyersFutureWife: Just keep your hands off Sawyer and we won’t have a problem.
MandyK: Who is the fierce blonde dressed in black who was with Knox at the bakery today?
CoolGranny: Don’t know but lucky, lucky girl!
DocMolly: It’s late autumn, folks; remember your flu shots.
When Bryn parked the rented SUV in front of the Artsy Tartsy, the best bakery in M
ercy and co-owned by Kai’s fiancée, Flick, Reagan unclipped her seat belt and leaned forward to talk to Bryn and Knox.
“Okay, this is Mercy, population like a hundred. Obviously it’s bigger than that but, at its heart, it’s a very small town.”
Knox tossed his wraparound shades on the dashboard in front of him. “It’s a pretty town,” Knox said, looking around.
Reagan had to admit that it was. The Town Council had worked hard to maintain its old-world charm, and businesses were encouraged to prettify their shops. Bright baskets of flowers hung from bended light poles, shop windows fill with eye-catching displays, and the sidewalks were wide and clean.
“I’m not happy that you are out and about,” Reagan stated, her tone grim. “You should be back on the estate where we can control the amount of people you come into contact with. And within ten minutes of you stepping out of this car, the world will know exactly where you are. Apparently, Mercy is gossip central.”
They’d been having variations of this argument since Knox announced that he wanted to go into town for breakfast. Judging by the fact that they were parked outside the Artsy Tartsy, Knox was winning the fight. Who knew that the pretty boy could be so damn obstinate? But they could still drive away, and thanks to the dark windows of the SUV, no one knew who was inside.
Bryn, thank goodness, was on her side. “Still not a good idea, Knox.”
“I am not going to jail myself, and my kid.” Knox’s expression was pure stubbornness. “I am paying a king’s ransom to Caswallawn to protect us. I have you two next to me and there are another two agents in the truck behind us. My stalker would be an idiot to try something in a public place with you lot on the job. And I’m not going to hide, because that will just draw this situation out, make it so much longer than it has to be. I want this over, and hiding out is not the way to end this situation. I have a life back in LA that I need to get back to, and the only way to end this is for the world and, more importantly, that bastard to know where I am.”