He missed her, God damn it. And it only made him angrier. And more determined to bring her home safe. Healing, if not whole.
He wanted to see what came next, and he was bound and determined to do it with her.
“She worth it?” Georgia asked softly.
Will swallowed his coffee and passed Parker a grateful look when he set a plate in front of him. “Yeah,” Will said. “She’s worth it.”
Georgia studied him for a couple of long, slow blinks, as if she were piecing him together, merging what she’d known with what he’d become.
“You’ll like her,” he offered with a smile. “Busts my balls almost as much as you do.”
“Well then,” Georgia said, turning back to her food with a grin, “guess you better explain why putting yourself on the wrong side of her rifle is the best way of getting her attention.”
“Yeah, man,” Parker said, leaning over the sink to snag Georgia’s other triangle of toast. “Can’t you just call or send flowers or explosives or something.”
“Explosives?” Will choked.
“Sniper,” Georgia offered.
“Oh.” Parker pushed away from the counter and tilted his head. “Ammunition then? A fancy scope thingy?”
“All fine ideas,” Will said slowly. “But impractical as I don’t know where she is.”
“Just where she’s going to be,” Georgia grumbled around a mouthful of egg, goat cheese, and spinach. “And what makes you so sure of that, anyway?”
“Because I know her.” Will sighed and when he sensed that such a simple statement wasn’t going to be enough to sell it, he confessed, “And because it’s what I would do.”
Georgia laid her fingers on his forearm, a warm, welcome weight that didn’t carry even a hint of judgement. But it was the wrong hand. The grip too light, too careful.
“Ethan had Gerald Reeves picked up outside his New York brownstone and tossed into a cell. He’s not going anywhere but he’s not talking, either. He’s rich and smug and egotistical enough to believe he can keep his mouth shut and ride this out.”
“He’ll break when reality sets in,” Georgia said. “Bargain when he realizes he’s not leaving that cell until he starts talking.”
Will nodded. “But that will take time, and even then, he might not know where Olivia is. For that, we need to pick up Pruett Davis and play him against Reeves.”
“First to talk gets the deal,” Georgia said, spearing another forkful. “They should both rot.”
“But Olivia shouldn’t,” Parker whispered.
Georgia’s head snapped up and her face softened. “Of course not. We’ll bring her home, Parker.”
“What are the odds she’s even still alive?” Parker asked.
“Good.” Will couldn’t bring himself to say the rest of what he was thinking. That there were worse things than death. That she’d been in captivity for six months. Holding out for six months. Holding on for six months. She wasn’t walking away unscathed.
“Davis doesn’t know that Reeves was picked up, so thanks to Parker”—Will tipped his fork in his direction—“we were able to access Reeves’ line, contact Davis and setup a meeting.”
“How’s Cooper going to know where the meeting is?” Georgia asked, picking some spinach out of her omelet and dropping it on Will’s plate with a sneer.
“Because Parker found the site Reeves and Davis were using to pass messages back and forth. I told Cooper about it while we were in Costa Rica. Guaranteed, she’s monitoring that board, just in case one of them sends a message to arrange a face-to-face.”
“Why are you so sure she’ll show?” Parker asked.
“Cooper’s been running on fumes for a while now and the only thing that kept her going was her loyalty to Cole. She would have gone to the ends of the Earth to try to save him.” An ache opened deep in Will’s chest, a wound that thrummed with a desperate agony every time he let his thoughts stray to Mexico City. “Reeves and Davis treated Cole like a lab rat, then used him to try to kill Cooper. But in the end . . .”
“In the end,” Georgia picked up where Will left off, “she chose you. Saved you.”
“Yeah.” Will swallowed thickly. “And paid for my life with Cole’s. She won’t forgive herself. Worse, she’ll consider it a betrayal. The ultimate betrayal.” The line she could never uncross. The sin that could never be forgiven.
But she was wrong and Will would go to the very ends of the Earth and back again to make her see that.
“She’s hurting and grieving and shutting out everything but the anger. It’s keeping her going.” For now. But the crash was coming and the grief would have it’s day. But when it all finally caught up with her, and Cooper finally fell apart, he’d make damn sure she could do it in the safety of his arms.
“She wants revenge,” Parker offered quietly. “So would I.” He met Georgia’s gaze, heat and loyalty and something Will couldn’t name but was so damn happy to see passing between them.
“Me too.” Georgie smiled softly.
Parker leaned across the bar and pressed a quick kiss to Georgia’s mouth. “As I don’t plan to get kidnapped and tortured ever again I think we can say your vengeance quota is full.”
Georgia snorted and took a sip of the decaf coffee she’d complained loudly about.
A few days ago, the idea of this relationship, of his sister’s new-found independence, had felt raw and wrong and threatening. He’d been afraid Georgia didn’t need him anymore. That too much time had passed and too many things had changed. The idea had hurt.
But every time Will saw the way Parker looked at her, touched her, teased her . . . Every time Will witnessed the way Georgia let Parker close, took a breath when he touched her, put a hand to her belly when she glanced at him . . .
Happiness unfurled like a full sail on an open ocean open. Will couldn’t make room for anything other than the warmth that filled him for the way Parker treated Georgia.
Well, warmth, and a little bit of jealousy. Because he knew what it was for someone to act as the sun, a bright, steady center of gravity that kept everything stable.
Will’s world had gone dark, but sunrise was coming. Even if he had to give it a little nudge.
“Cooper will show. The promise of catching Davis and Reeves together will be too much to resist.”
“What makes you so sure she won’t kill him the second she sees him?”
“Because I’ll be in the way.” Right between her and the line she’d never be able to uncross, just liked he’d promised. “No matter how much she wants to take that shot, she won’t risk me.” Will understood that it sounded insane. That he was essentially planning to be a human shield for a guy who didn’t deserve it. But Cooper did. If she pulled that trigger out of rage, out of hate, she’d never get that part of herself back.
It would die as surely as Davis.
And Will wasn’t about to let that happen.
“If she shoots you, I swear the last thing you hear will be my voice saying, ‘I told you so.’” Georgia graced him with a grin that didn’t quite make it past a grimace.
Will dropped a hand to her shoulder and squeezed.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sky was an inky, cloudless black when Cooper hefted her backpack up one shoulder, left Rock Creek Park Trail and picked her way through dense woods with nothing more than a pen light and a quarter moon to show the way. The quiet and the terrain—wooded and rolling with hills—reminded her of home.
She doubted she’d ever see it again. Would ever walk those trails again. Hear her father laugh or see her sister smile.
She found her spot and settled in. The hours passed and the cold bite of night gave way to a clear-blue and cloudless morning. Birdsong, then distant traffic ate away at the steady quiet. Soon cyclists and joggers and hikers would fill the trail behind her—one of Washington DC’s most popular.
Getting in unseen had been easy. Getting out would be infi
nitely more difficult.
Cooper didn’t care. Everything felt cold and distant, her sights set and focused on the target. She finished off a protein bar and a bottle of water, stowed both back in her bag, then slipped behind her rifle, already set and waiting. She stared through the scope, through the trees and straight into the Smithsonian National Zoo.
As she waited, everything became sharp and clear. The big cat enclosure. The bend in the walking path. The small bench where Davis and Reeves had met, more than once, for a cup of coffee before work and a walk through the zoo.
In this national park, they’d plotted and planned. Sold out their country, treated good men like science experiments, then sentenced those same men to death.
And they’d used her to pull the trigger and clean up their mess. Twice.
And whether they knew it or not, they’d set her on the path to a third—and final—job. In this pretty park, on the far side of the lion exhibit, Cooper was going end this, once and for all.
Could they feel it? she wondered.
Could Davis and Reeves sense that their time on this earth had nearly run out? She checked her watch then peered through her scope, waiting, watching.
They were down to minutes now, instead of hours.
Cooper stilled, filtering out everything around her . . . and let herself wonder what would come next. What would happen after.
This wasn’t the end she’d wanted.
Wasn’t the future she’d planned.
Eighteen months ago, all she’d wanted was to go home. To get back to normal. To go back to her life and her partner and her job.
It hadn’t taken long for her to realize how naive that was.
For her to settle into her new reality. To realize there was no going back, only a bleak path forward.
She’d contented herself with chasing answers and looking for cures. Saving Cole had kept her focused, kept her going.
That singular goal had both consumed and distracted her, driven her to focus on the next step, the next obstacle or mark or country. Thinking about what came next, what came after, had been left to dark nights and vague dreams.
A thin, cold comfort when loneliness and despair threatened to encroach.
Until Will.
From the moment she’d stared down at him in that clearing, he’d lit up her world like a flare, bright and bold and determined.
He’d stood by her. Forgiven her. Encouraged her.
He’d touched her in ways he’d promised, ways she’d longed for, and ways she’d never expected.
And would never forget.
Even now, she carried him with her. His warm, rough voice. A rumble in the back of her head telling her to come home. That it was okay, that he was waiting, that life would work itself out.
Because her eyes stung and her fingers trembled beneath the weight of wanting him, of missing him, she tried to fall into her training, shut out the ancillary, and focused on what was in front of her.
Tried, and failed.
The longing wouldn’t leave her. Understandable, she supposed, as his touch still lingered.
But it would fade. It would have to.
She didn’t deserve a warm, bright future. She didn’t deserve to feel his breath at the back of her neck or catch his smile from across the room or hear the rolling rumble of his laugh.
She didn’t deserve to be happy. Not with him. Not when she’d bought and paid for that happiness with her best friend’s life.
And definitely not when she didn’t regret it, not even for a second. Not when she’d do it all over again.
She’d choose Will. Every time. Ruthlessly. Remorselessly. Without thought or hesitation.
Cole deserved more loyalty than that. More loyalty from her.
So no, she didn’t get to be happy.
But she did have a job to finish.
Two joggers appeared, both men, each fit and trim, one dark haired, one ginger.
Cooper let them go. They weren’t who she was looking for.
She glanced at her watch. Five past eight. The zoo had just opened and any second now, Reeves and Davis would meet and talk and die.
And finally, this nightmare would be over.
Another man appeared, his pace clipped and sharp, as if he had so many better, more important things to do. Cooper followed him, waiting for him to pass through sight-lines obscured by trees and buildings, and sucked in a breath when he strode to the open bench . . . and straight into her crosshairs.
Pruett Davis.
Cooper had spent the last several days studying the man. His face. His habits. Scouring every single detail that Parker had provided after unlocking the files. She knew Davis was an only child. That he’d attended a state school but graduated with a perfect GPA. That he’d served in the military, and later been recruited by the CIA. He was in his late forties, but ruthlessly devoted to both diet and exercise. It showed in his face—cut and tight where most men his age had begun to succumb to time and age, their jaws and chins and cheeks going soft or round or full. And it showed in his physique, a compact but commanding frame that made up in muscle what it lacked in height. This wasn’t a man who planned to quietly succumb to the pull of time or allow himself to age with disinterest or grace.
But his efforts were all for nothing.
Cooper had no intention of letting him age more than a few more minutes. Just enough time for Reeves to arrive.
She shifted, titling her head a fraction and letting her finger rest on the trigger.
She’d take out Davis first, she decided. By the time Reeves realized what was happening, the second shot would already be on the way.
Davis would never see it coming and Reeves wouldn’t have more than a split second of fear.
It was a better end than either one of them deserved.
Another jogger appeared at the top of the path, his build too tall, too trim to be Reeves.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her gut clenched.
Cooper adjusted the scope, watched as the two men who’d jogged past minutes ago reappeared and this time, she saw what she’d missed the first time.
Ear pieces. The bulge of guns at the smalls of their backs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
They were here for Davis.
It all happened in a flash and a flurry of movement. Weapons were drawn. Orders were shouted. Davis went to the ground, and his hands were secured behind his back.
It had all been a setup, she realized with a dawning sense of frustrated rage. A ploy to get Davis out in the open.
Cooper ground her teeth.
Will.
He had done this. Had used his friends and his connections to set the meet and spring the trap.
Cooper bit back a curse. They’d probably caught Reeves days ago. And now they had Davis, too.
But they couldn’t keep him. Couldn’t take him. Couldn’t throw him in some cell or cut him some deal.
He was hers goddamn it.
Davis didn’t get to walk away from this. Didn’t get to trade information for a lighter sentence.
She shifted. It wasn’t over. Not yet. When they pulled the bastard to his feet she’d have a short window and a clean shot.
It was all she’d need.
Two men gripped Davis by the elbows and pulled him to his feet, but as he stood, another stepped directly in front of him, obscuring her shot. Rage, white hot and vicious, slammed through her.
Move. Move. Move.
As if he’d heard her, the man turned, pulling the hoodie from his head as he did.
Will.
He stood directly in front of Davis, his stance loose but his feet planted, his taller, broader body blocking her target. His brow furrowed, he panned his gaze, looking for something.
No, she realized, pulling her finger away from the trigger, someone. He stopped, his gaze fixed, and Cooper knew he’d worked out where she was most likely to be.
He was off, but not by much.
Move.
/> But he didn’t. Just set his jaw and held up the shitty little phone they’d bought in Mexico and used in the market. She’d ditched hers the second she’d walked away from him. Common sense said he should have done the same.
That he hadn’t sent a rush of unwanted warmth through her. There was only one reason for him to hold onto that piece of crap.
So she could reach him. God, how she wanted to reach for him.
Behind Will, Davis shifted, but the two men holding him didn’t move. Just said something Cooper couldn’t hope to hear. Will shook his head but kept his gaze steady and on the woods. On her hide.
A long moment passed and a smile, something grim and determined and fierce crept to his face. He wiggled the phone and though he didn’t know exactly where she was, he stared her down all the same.
Arrogant prick.
Minutes ticked by, and outside a single, sharp gesture he made to one of the other men, Will didn’t move. Not one step.
Fine.
She hardened her thumping heart and dialed the number she’d memorized before they’d split up in Tepito.
When he picked up, she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Move,” she ordered.
“No.”
“Move,” she ground out.
“I can’t do that, Coop,” he said, his voice soft and warm and patient. “I made you a promise. I intend to keep it.”
Ignoring him, she ground out, “He’s the reason your friends are dead. He orchestrated that hit in Afghanistan. He gave the order to take those men out. He’s the reason”—she choked out, emotion clogging her throat and gripping her frame so hard she had to ease her grip on her gun—“he’s the reason Cole is dead.”
“I know—”
“Then why are you protecting him?” she shouted through the line, every emotion she hadn’t wanted to deal with or acknowledge bubbling to the surface.
“Oh, Cooper,” Will said with a fond, sad sigh, “I’m not protecting him.”
She closed her eyes against the implication, but it slipped beneath her skin and settled her heart. She breathed and relaxed and wanted to resent Will for the simple power he had over her.
“Then move,” she pleaded, “and let me end this.”
Fearless (Somerton Security Book 3) Page 29