The Legend

by Donna Grant

  Which was exactly what Andrew Smith wanted.

  With his coffee in hand, Mitch made his way to the table. He eyed Smith. It wasn’t his real name, but that didn’t matter. No, what was important was the reason for the meeting.

  Mitch sat at the table and looked at Andrew’s sandy hair and into his nondescript brown eyes. Mitch wasn’t exactly sure what Andrew did for the Saints—nor did he wish to find out. In matters such as these, it was better to be oblivious of such things.

  Andrew took a deep breath and leaned his arms onto the small, round table. His black trench coat was open, revealing a dark gray sweater beneath. “You’re late.”

  “I had a lead on Callie. I was hoping to have some information for you.”

  Andrew made a face and looked out the window at the passing people on the sidewalk. “We have Miss Reed taken care of.”

  “I thought she was my problem?”

  “You failed to get to her before the brothers split up and went different directions.” Andrew turned his head to face him. “Things have gotten out of hand.”

  Mitch wasn’t going to take the blame for everything. “I’m not the only one who screwed up. We wouldn’t even have this mess if Orrin had been dealt with. Instead, Yuri took out Orrin’s team and kidnapped him.”

  “You think you’re telling me something I don’t already know?”

  It was the soft tone and the sharpening of Andrew’s gaze that alerted Mitch he might have gone too far. But he wasn’t part of the Saints because he gave up easily.

  “I’m reminding you,” Mitch stated. “Callie is mine to deal with.”

  Andrew lifted the mug to his lips and took a drink of his coffee before slowly lowering it back to the table. “What’s so important about Callie Reed?”

  “I think she could be an asset to our organization.”

  That caused Andrew to lift a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “We’ve already agreed to hand her over to her family.”

  Mitch gritted his teeth. He’d done his own investigating into the Reeds when Orrin initially pulled Callie away from the CIA and into his Black Ops team, Whitehorse. The Reeds were nasty individuals, whose ambitions were as grand—if only the family would stop getting busted and sent to jail.

  “Agreements can be altered,” Mitch said.

  Andrew sat in silence for a moment. “I’ll run it by the others.”

  It wasn’t a promise, but it was the only thing Mitch could expect. Right now, that was enough for him. “My team is still looking for Orrin. Owen remains at the ranch in Texas, and we believe Wyatt is still in Texas, as well. However, we’ve lost Cullen. Have you had any sightings of Orrin?”

  “No.”

  The bite of anger in that one word spoke volumes. “Yuri either?”

  “Both have vanished, but it’s just a matter of time before those two pop up. We’re going to ensure that happens very soon.”

  Intrigued, Mitch set aside his coffee. “How?”

  “We all know how much Orrin loves his sons, even if the boys don’t return the sentiment. We’ve put things into motion that will ensure that Loughman shows up to help his eldest son.”

  Mitch sat back and twisted his lips. “Don’t bet on it. Orrin knows how good his sons are. He’ll expect them to take care of themselves.”

  “Not with what we have coming for Wyatt.”

  “What’s that?”

  Andrew smiled coldly. “An old enemy from Wyatt’s past that he won’t be able to handle on his own.”

  “What about Ragnarok? One of them has it.”

  “It no longer matters. We have Jankovic.” Andrew then pushed back his chair and stood. He looked down at Mitch and said, “You keep recruiting.”

  “And Callie?”

  “You’ll have an answer soon.”

  Mitch waited until Andrew walked out of the shop and blended into the throng of people before he rose. He was well aware that there were Saints watching him.

  The organization was far larger than most who were part of it even knew. The Loughmans were fighting a war they’d never be able to win. Mitch was glad that someone was going to bring Orrin down a peg or two.

  Now that he knew the Saints had a plan for Orrin, Mitch wasn’t worried about the eldest Loughman hunting him down. Orrin would have too much on his plate—like protecting his sons—to come after him.

  Even if Orrin decided to come to DC, the moment the cameras about the city saw his face, the Saints would be alerted. Orrin wouldn’t make it two steps before he was taken down.

  The headlines would read that intelligence had discovered a plot to kill the President. Below it would be a picture of Orrin facedown on the ground, handcuffed.

  And that would be the last anyone would ever see of him.

  It had happened more times than Mitch could remember. The Saints were masters of making people disappear.

  * * *

  “So. That’s Mitch Hewett,” Mia Carter said.

  Cullen lowered the binoculars from his face. He gazed out the window of the vacant floor of a building, following Mitch with his eyes. “That’s him. You got the pictures of Hewett and the man he met with, right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mia said as she set down the camera. “I’m going to send them to Callie to see if she can find out who the man is.”

  Cullen turned to the side and looked at his woman. “We got lucky that we were able to catch Hewett with someone. That meeting could’ve taken place anywhere.”

  “Yet it was so near his office.”

  “We’re thinking that man with Mitch is a Saint. For all we know, it could be his best friend from college.”

  Mia shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not the way Hewett acted walking into the coffee shop or while they talked. He looked relieved returning to work.”

  “I wish we knew what their conversation was about.”

  “We’re already taking a huge risk remaining here,” Mia pointed out.

  Cullen knew all too well. The longer they remained in DC, the more chances arose for the Saints to find them. He felt trapped, which made him yearn to leave the city behind. But their search for Orrin, the Russian scientist, and anything on the Saints kept them in DC.

  Mia put her hand on his chest over his heart. “We’re going to take the Saints down.”

  “Eight people are going to bring down an organization like the Saints? We have no idea who is running it or how far-reaching it is. For all we know, the Saints could have infiltrated every government in the world.”

  She raised a dark brow as her lips curved into a smile. “Then we go into it believing this group of maniacs are that large.”

  “I love that you think we can do this, but I’m a realist.”

  “And I’m not?” She gave him a little shove so that he fell back onto the chair. Mia straddled his legs and rested her arms on top of his shoulders.

  He groaned as he gripped her hips. When he rose up to claim her mouth in a kiss, she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

  “We’re not alone,” she whispered. “It’s not just eight against a million or a billion. There’s Kate. She’s taken a leave of absence from the hospital to help.”

  “So, nine,” he corrected.

  Mia gave him an irritated look. “Have you forgotten about General Davis? He sacrificed himself so that I could get off the base.”

  “He’s dead, love. He can’t help us.”

  “My point is that there will be those out there who can and will help.”

  Cullen had to admit she was correct in her thinking. “On the flip side of that coin are those who will pretend to help only to betray us.”

  “Yes. And as you so frequently point out to me, we’ll have to follow our instincts on each instance. If one of us feels that it’s wrong, then we listen to the other.”

  “I think the whole idea is wrong.” He grunted when she pinched the lobe of his ear.

  “That’s because you worry I’ll get hur
t.”

  “I can’t lose you,” he admitted. Cullen cupped her face and looked into her black eyes. “All that matters is you.”

  Her gaze softened as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. “I don’t want to lose you either, but this is bigger than either of us. This affects the entire world.”

  It was the same argument they had every day. He didn’t want Mia anywhere near the fighting. After their car had gone over the mountain, he realized he never wanted to feel that powerless again. He loved Mia more than anything.

  Yet, his woman was a force to be reckoned with. She was a skilled pilot who loved to push the boundaries and was more than equipped to handle herself whether she was flying a plane or on the ground in the midst of battle.

  But as competent as Mia was, there was always a chance that she would be injured or killed. Every time he thought about her being taken from him, he felt as if his heart were being ripped in two.

  Was this pain what his father had lived with all these years? Cullen couldn’t imagine what it would be like to discover that someone had murdered Mia. He wouldn’t rest until he found her killer.

  Then again, Orrin hadn’t stopped looking either.

  “What is it?” Mia asked.

  “I love you.”

  She cupped his face. “I love you, too.”

  “I want to have a long life with you. I want to grow old with you. Maybe have a few kids.”

  A smile curved her lips as she laughed. “Kids, huh?”

  “Could be. I’m not ruling it out.”

  “Then we have something to look forward to,” she said huskily.

  He splayed his hand on her back and pushed her forward so their lips were nearly touching. “Yes, we do.”

  Dark eyes searched his face. “Hope is what gets some people through the worst times. This is the worst I’ve ever been through.”

  “Your association with me has put your family in danger, as well.”

  “My father is rich and powerful. He’s already begun making preparations and putting precautions in place. I’m not worried about him. I want to find Orrin, but my worry isn’t with him either.”

  Cullen frowned. “Who are you worried about?”

  “Callie and Wyatt.”

  Since Cullen and Wyatt had never been that close, he didn’t talk to his eldest brother much. Owen was their go-between, and he hadn’t said anything about plans changing.

  But Cullen knew firsthand how the Saints could alter things in a millisecond.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Wyatt stalked into the house, furious that a Reed dared to call his bluff. That’s how he knew the Saints were involved. In all of his dealings with Callie’s family, none of them had ever attempted to go against him.

  Now, all of a sudden, Melvin changed tactics?

  This was the Saints. And he’d bet every weapon he owned that Ahmadi and his men coming after him was the Saints’ doing, as well.

  Wyatt paced the dining area before he stopped and leaned down, putting his hands on the table. He hung his head as the truth revealed itself.

  He heard Callie behind him. She was out of breath from running. He squeezed his eyes shut at the desperation that pounded through him to take her into his arms and simply hold her.

  How sure he’d been that staying with her would keep her safe. Never had he thought his enemies a half a world away would find him. If he had, he’d have stayed as far from her as he could get. But there was no choice for them now.

  If only they’d remained at Carl’s.

  “Whatever it is you’ve put together, just tell me,” Callie said.

  Wyatt opened his eyes and straightened, facing her. “We’re going to be hit from two sides.”

  “The terrorists and…” she paused, frowning. Then her eyes went wide as realization dawned. “My family.”

  “The Saints have set it up. We could handle one attack, but a duel assault?”

  Callie slowly walked farther into the room. “It’s a setup.”

  “To kill us.”

  “Maybe.” Her blue eyes met his. “I think they’d be happy to take one of the Loughman sons out of the mix, but I think the real trap is being set for Orrin.”

  Wyatt dropped his head back to look at the ceiling. Fuck. Callie was right. Orrin already knew about Ahmadi planning something. If his father was aware of that, then the odds were that Orrin knew of the Reeds, too.

  That would bring him straight to Wyatt and Callie to try and help—which was exactly what the Saints wanted.

  Wyatt lifted his head and looked at Callie. “Can you get a message to Orrin?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Orrin found you.”

  “Yes, because we set up a way for him to contact me if he was ever in trouble.”

  Wyatt flattened his lips. “And neither of you thought that the situation might be reversed and you’d need his help?”

  “There wasn’t a need. I was supposed to be safely inside the base at the ranch.”

  “Did he happen to leave you an idea of how to get in contact with him after this latest communication?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, then paused. Her lips closed as she frowned and walked to her laptop. She sat and opened the computer. A moment later, her fingers were flying over the keyboard.

  Wyatt watched her for a moment before he went to the large window that overlooked the front yard. The cabin was situated at the top of a hill, giving them the advantage for an attack. Austin’s arid climate kept the trees from getting too tall. That gave them the ability to see virtually unhindered all around the property.

  Who would come for them first? The Reeds or Ahmadi? Or would they attack together?

  Ahmadi wanted him dead, which meant their attack would be to decimate everyone and everything around. That was in direct contrast to the Reeds, who wanted Callie at all costs.

  Knowing Callie’s family as he did, they wouldn’t have aligned themselves with the Saints unless they knew for certain that, in the end, Callie would be theirs. It made sense for the Reeds to attack first, but that didn’t mean that would be what happened. Ahmadi might wait for Callie to leave before they came after him.

  Wyatt turned and looked at her. If they remained together, he could fight beside her against her family and possibly win once and for all against them.

  But against Ahmadi—he knew he needed to send her away. If she remained with him, she’d end up dead.

  That thought had him facing the window. He couldn’t imagine Callie taken from this world. She would be out of reach of her family’s claws once and for all, but she would no longer be a part of his life.

  Orrin would never forgive him.

  He’d never forgive himself.

  The sound of her typing was soothing in a way. At first, he’d hated it since it disturbed the quiet, but it didn’t take long for it to become a comfort. It filled the silence since she had nothing to say to him, and he didn’t know what to say to her.

  When she’d come to the stream, he first thought it was to be with him. He should’ve known better. The past couldn’t be undone, nor did he want it to be. What he’d said to Callie years ago still applied.

  It didn’t matter that he’d lied about having no feelings for her. It didn’t matter that he’d lied about just wanting to have some fun during the summer.

  With every word that fell from his lips, he’d seen them wound her more deeply than a blade ever could.

  He almost hadn’t been able to get it all out. Being with her those few months had been as close to Heaven as he was likely to get. She’d freely given him her love, her smile shining brighter than the sun.

  But he’d known what his future held. Bringing someone like her into his world of blood and death was a sin. And he hadn’t wanted her ending up murdered like his mother.

  Not once had he seen Callie cry after he broke it off. She didn’t try to talk him out of it or beg him not to end things. She didn’t demand a b
etter explanation or call him names as he deserved. Not his Callie.

  She’d stood straight and silent, taking it all in. But he saw her change nonetheless. Right before his eyes, he saw her heart protect itself as much as it could. He saw it because he’d erected those same walls after he found his mother’s body. No one had ever even dented those barriers until Callie.

  Her tenacity and persistence working at the ranch, as well as her smile and bright outlook on life despite her family affected him. Without even trying, she’d busted through his walls as if they were made of smoke.

  He was the one who’d approached her on the premise of teaching her how to throw knives. She was a quick learner, eager to soak up any kind of knowledge be it about the ranch, school, weaponry, or life.

  Of all the girls who had tried in vain to catch his attention, there hadn’t been anyone like Callie.

  Nor had there been anyone like her after he left Texas.

  He blew out a breath. If he’d known Orrin would pull Callie into his Black Ops business, he’d have confronted his father years ago. Instead, Wyatt assumed that Callie only helped manage the ranch with his uncle.

  All those years, Orrin had put her life in danger. All those years while Wyatt had stupidly assumed the most peril to Callie’s life was dealing with the livestock at the ranch.

  His ignorance was his fault alone. He’d kept close tabs on her the first few years he was away, but it became too hard when she began dating. For his own peace of mind, he’d stopped being so involved. It helped him find sleep once more, but he never stopped loving her. Though he’d never told her the words, he’d fallen in love with her the first week they began talking.

  Before claiming her body, even before their fist kiss, he’d been madly in love with her.

  He hadn’t cut her out of his life for himself. He’d done it for her. He’d freed her from any ties to him or his family. And he had hoped she would take it.

  When he was forced to return to Texas, he’d been thrilled to see her. Until he learned she worked for his father. It made him hate Orrin all the more.

  “I think I might have found something,” Callie said from behind him.

  Wyatt didn’t bother to respond. She was too deep in her work to hear him anyway. Instead, he walked the house, checking the weapons and ammunition as well as the locks on the windows and doors.