by Katie Reus
He wasn’t even bothering to hide his disdain for Evie, and even though she didn’t blame him, she simply nodded at him, having absolutely no energy right now to deal with anything more.
“What kind of danger have you brought into this house?” he asked when she would have stepped around him.
“I won’t be here long.”
“That is not what I asked.” Each word was clipped.
“Fine, I don’t know. So I guess just assume the worst kind of danger.”
He nodded once, watching her carefully. “With the women Dylan dated before you, I always ran deep scans on them. But because you’re a Bishop, my scan was cursory. I knew you weren’t after him for his money. Once you left him, I ran another one. What I found was interesting.”
Surprised he’d told her so much, she simply lifted an eyebrow because she was in no mood to spar, verbally or otherwise. “Is that right?”
“What I found, or I should say, what I did not find was quite interesting.” Again with that pointed look.
“Interesting?”
“Yes, interesting. The record of your personal life is ridiculously clean. So mundane it appears to be professionally created. Now you show up on Dylan’s doorstep with a gunshot victim. I find it all very interesting.”
“Good for you,” she said, stepping around him, not putting any heat into her words.
She actually liked Leo. Back when she’d been dating Dylan, Leo had offered to show her how to shoot—because he’d wanted her to be able to protect herself—and she hadn’t had the heart to tell him she was an excellent shot. So she’d allowed him to “teach” her how to use a pistol. It had been painful to fake and not be able to show off her skills.
If there was ever a next time, she was going to show him exactly how good she was. Not that any of that mattered now. The man genuinely cared for Dylan and he was just doing his job. A job he was good at.
It wasn’t his fault she used to be a spy.
Chapter 3
Dylan looked up from his laptop when his office door opened. Though trying to work had been a joke at this point, he hadn’t been certain how long Evie would be with Samara so he’d at least attempted to get some done. The effort had been fruitless, however, because all he’d been able to do was obsess over her.
Evie stepped inside the room, her jet-black hair pulled back into a ponytail, showing off her sharp cheekbones and the faint circles under her eyes. She immediately shut the door behind her.
He knew she was dealing with a lot—one brother in a coma, the other wanted for murder, and now whatever the hell this was with her friend. He might want to pressure her right now for answers, but if he had learned anything from his time with her, pushing her never got him anywhere. Only patience did. Of course, now he was wondering if everything between them was a lie, so what did he know?
“She’s asleep.” Her blue eyes flashed with annoyance as she said it.
“Just stay here tonight.”
She shook her head, even as Cooper made his way over to her, silently begging for her to rub his head. She scratched Cooper’s head, seemingly absently, which he was eating up. “I…shouldn’t. And I really am sorry I brought this crap to your doorstep. I just didn’t know who else to turn to.”
He believed her. Because he couldn’t think that she would have turned to him unless she had no other option. That thought didn’t sit well with him either. “I’ve got food if you’re hungry and you can take a shower in one of the guest rooms. I’ve got clothes you can wear as well.” He might be angry at her, but he still cared for her. Still…nope. Not going there. He’d thought he could force himself to get over her, and for the last six months he’d thrown himself into work, killing himself with endless days at his desk and in meetings so that he had no down time, no time to think about her. Except it hadn’t worked, because he still wasn’t over her.
She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest—which just made Cooper sulk and head back to his overstuffed bed. Her upper arms were muscled, but not bulkily. She had a runner’s body, lean and toned, and he knew she got in a lot of practice on her punching bag. “I’m fine, but thank you.”
There was something in her tone that made him pause. “What the hell, Evie? Just stay here. Your friend is here, so it’s stupid to leave. And I’m sure you haven’t had much other than hospital food, so you’ll eat too.” Damn it, she pissed him off.
She looked surprised, but nodded. “Fine, but I’m not putting on some stranger’s clothes.”
He blinked at her odd tone. “They’re your clothes. You left some here when you…”
She paused. “I did?”
He nodded. She’d left a handful of things and he’d never been able to get rid of them. He wasn’t sure what that said about him other than he was a masochist. For her.
The tension in her shoulders eased. “Okay, thank you. For everything. You’re being very generous.” Her words were stilted, however, and they pissed him off.
Because he hated that she was still talking to him like he was a goddamn stranger. But maybe that was all they were. Strangers. No, he refused to believe that. Not when he knew how she sounded when she came, how she looked… How she liked her coffee in the morning. “Come on. You can stay in the room next to your friend’s.”
She nodded and followed him out—and Cooper wasn’t far behind, curious about their new visitor.
He ignored the familiar vanilla scent that teased his nose, the scent that was all Evie. The one that made him think of twisted, tangled sheets and her pinned underneath him.
The one that haunted him when he closed his eyes.
* * *
Evie turned on the shower in Dylan’s luxurious guest bathroom. It was weird to be in here instead of in his room. Of course if he’d offered to share his room, she would’ve been more than surprised. Hell, she was surprised he was insisting that she stay here regardless. He should have kicked her out on her ass. Which just drove home the point of what a decent man he was, and made her feel worse about her previous deception while they’d been together.
Instead of stripping, she quickly called her former coworker, letting the running water block any other outside sounds.
Benjamin Miller—or simply Ben—answered on the third ring, his tone distracted, and she heard the faint click of a keyboard in the background. “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Evie. Is this a bad time?”
“It’s always a bad time, but I’ll spare a few minutes for one of my favorite people.”
She snorted softly and hopped up on the countertop. “Samara called me earlier with some interesting news.” She wasn’t going to tell Ben that Samara had actually stopped by after being shot. Some things she would keep to herself until she knew more.
He sighed, as if he wasn’t surprised. “I’ve had half a dozen conversations with her. There is no fucking conspiracy.”
Since Evie wasn’t completely certain what was going on—since Samara hadn’t told her everything—she had to play this carefully and act as if she already knew. “You know what Samara is like though. She’s like a freaking dog with a bone once she gets something in her head.”
“Yeah, I know. But Xiao died of a heart attack and Kalinec was killed in a mugging gone wrong—and while I am definitely saddened by their deaths, it was bad luck. Really bad luck. I’ve done my due diligence and there is no connection between their deaths and the Jensen op. I respect Samara, obviously, but…I don’t know what’s going on in her head to make this connection.”
Evie had worked with Xiao and Kalinec—two skilled operators—on the Jensen op, but while she knew them, they hadn’t been friends. Just skilled coworkers. She hadn’t even found out about their deaths until Samara had told her, since she’d already left the Agency. Now it seemed Samara thought they’d been killed in some sort of conspiracy? Or at least that was what Ben made it sound like. “So you think she’s overreacting?” But Evie didn’t think so. If the two men were dead and Samara had been shot, some
thing was going on at least.
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t think there’s some weird conspiracy tying these deaths to the Jensen job like she thinks. We took that fucker down and everyone involved with him. We literally cut off all the links. This isn’t some revenge thing—there’s no one who could want revenge. I’ve run the data and it keeps telling me the same thing. She wants to see something that isn’t there.”
Samara’s bullet wound said otherwise. But Evie kept that to herself for right now. “Okay, just wanted to check with you. I know what she’s like,” she said, laughing even though she didn’t mean it. She liked Ben, had done more than a handful of ops with him, but he was definitely an analyst. He was all about the numbers and not gut instinct. And maybe he was right, maybe the deaths had been random, but…Samara had been shot. So Evie was going to get to the bottom of that at least.
“I tried calling her but she hasn’t responded,” he continued. “I think she’s pissed at me.”
No, she’s passed out in the room next to mine, recovering from a gunshot wound. She kept the thought to herself. “I talked to her a couple times about all this. I’ll soothe her feathers next time I hear from her.”
“Thanks. How’s civilian life, anyway?”
“Eh. Dealing with a lot of family shit right now.”
“Right…” He sounded distracted. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Evie might not be CIA anymore but she still had top-level clearance, at least for another six months. If she did need help, she’d reach out to him.
Once they disconnected, she set her phone on the countertop and stripped off her clothes. The bathroom had already filled with steam, and the moment she stepped under the pulsing jets she allowed herself a fraction of relief.
Her life had imploded but she was going to enjoy this damn shower for the next few minutes. God, even Dylan’s shampoo and body wash was the luxury kind—fifty dollars for a teeny bottle. She wondered if Dylan had put this in here especially for her or if this was simply how he stocked his guest bathroom. She cursed herself for caring at all. It didn’t matter. No way he’d done anything special for her. He was probably counting down the seconds until he could get rid of her, and she wouldn’t blame him if he was.
She had no future with Dylan Blackwood. He was a former lover, a former asset, former…everything.
He sure as hell wasn’t part of her future though. Even if she wanted him to be.
Because if she allowed herself to even think that might be possible, she would have to acknowledge that she would have to tell him the truth. And if she did that, he’d leave her for sure. So she was cutting things off as soon as possible.
Unfortunately she had to figure out who the hell had shot Samara and why. Because an unknown enemy wanted Samara dead. And an unknown enemy was the worst kind.
Damn it, so much for a peaceful shower. Her brain simply wouldn’t shut off as she started running through potential enemies of Samara’s. And the list was long.
* * *
“I lost her,” the male voice on the other end said.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to take a deep breath. “How is that possible?” He needed Samara taken care of. Nosy bitch. Why couldn’t she just leave well enough alone?
“She’s good. What can I say? The target must have ditched her vehicle, but I know I shot her. She hasn’t shown up at any walk-in clinics or ERs in the surrounding areas. And there have been no reports of gunshot victims matching her description. So she’s potentially dead, which I doubt. Or she found someone to take the bullet out for her. Or hell, she took it out herself.”
He was quiet for a long moment as he digested the words, his mind going into overdrive. “She’ll need antibiotics.”
Unfortunately the woman was trained and could get shit like that herself. She could simply steal them.
The man on the other end of the line was silent, forcing him to talk again. “I’ll double your fee if you find her,” he said. Because he needed Samara gone. She was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. And while she didn’t have all the facts, she was invested in finding out more and that meant trouble for him.
He enjoyed his life and he would not let her screw things up because of her curiosity. Because sooner or later she was going to get Evie Bishop stirred up. Those two had always had each other’s backs.
And if both of them came for him… No. He would simply have to take care of Samara and eliminate that possibility. Maybe he would take care of Samara himself. He knew she was somewhere in Miami. And she couldn’t hide forever. He would make damn sure of it.
Chapter 4
Though it was nearly four in the morning, Evie was now awake so she searched out Samara. She’d always been like that: once she woke up—because her brain wouldn’t let her rest—she was up for good.
As she entered the room, she was surprised to find Finn sitting by Samara’s bedside, her friend propped up and looking paler than last night. But at least she was awake. And Cooper was lounging on the bed next to her, looking as if he owned the place.
“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice low, leaving the door open. “How are you feeling?”
“Good enough. Apparently I have an infection.” She shifted slightly, then tried to cover up a wince. “But at least I’ve got this adorable mutt to keep me company.”
As if he knew he was being talked about, Cooper lifted his head and licked Samara’s hand.
“You did the right thing by bringing her here,” Finn continued, closing his little doctor’s bag. “Of course a hospital would’ve been better.” His tone was dry but not too judgmental. She’d only met Finn a couple times and he’d always seemed like a decent guy. Her opinion of him had only gone up now.
“I need a few minutes alone with Samara.” And she wasn’t asking.
The doctor nodded and stood. “I’ll be in the kitchen getting coffee if you need me. Come on, Coop.”
The dog groaned but jumped off the bed, following after the doctor.
She waited until Finn was gone, then peered out the door just to make sure he wasn’t eavesdropping. Not that she really expected him to.
“How are you feeling, really?” she asked, sitting next to her friend.
“I’ve felt worse.” Samara lifted a shoulder. “I’ve also felt better.” Her smile was wry.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” She cleared her throat. “So I called Ben.”
She pursed her lips together. “I figured you would. What did he say?”
“Enough that I figured out what’s going on with you. He said he’s investigated everything and run all analyses on the two deaths.”
“I know. But my gut tells me something different. Maybe the deaths aren’t connected to the Jensen job but it feels too weird that Xiao and Kalinec died so close together.”
“Maybe…” But shit happened. Evie knew that more than most. Look at her family right now. “So how did you get shot? I want all the details.”
“Seamus is in Miami and I’d planned to see him as well as you.”
Seamus was in Miami? He’d been on the op along with Xiao, Kalinec and Luca Ramos, though Seamus had been on the periphery, lending support with Ben.
“Yeah. And between us, I’m not even supposed to know that, but I had one of the guys run some facial recognition software for me. Under the radar. Not sure what Seamus is doing here though. I couldn’t get a hit on his phone or bank accounts…nothing.”
Evie frowned at that, thinking of the handsome Seamus who she’d run half a dozen ops with. He’d asked her out more than once—and she’d always said no. He was a good agent and a decent enough guy, but she’d never dated in the workplace. Far too messy. “I thought he found work in the private sector.”
“I did too. I just wanted to talk to him, see if he remembered anything from the op that I’m not seeing. Then this happened so I decided to come straight to you.”
“We’ll see what we can figure out. I’ve got to
grab my laptop from my brother’s house. But I’ve got pretty much every ounce of information on the Jensen files memorized regardless.” Evie had lived and breathed that job until the very end.
“Yeah, me too. None of this makes sense. There is literally no obvious person gunning for us.”
She was right. Rod Jensen had been a real estate mogul in Miami who’d been busy trafficking people, among other things. A real sick bastard. And their team had helped expose him. Luckily there was a loophole for the CIA when it came to investigations—they were able to investigate anywhere, but the FBI had to handle the arrests on US soil. So they’d tag-teamed with the Feds, and Jensen had been taken down. A win-win for everyone. And Jensen hadn’t had any angry partners or relatives or anyone who would want revenge against Evie’s team. Not to mention, their involvement had been very quiet. The Feds had gotten all the credit for his takedown while her team had been in the background.
“Exactly, which makes me think this has to do with something completely different. You’ve got a lot of enemies. We need to broaden our suspect pool to see who wants you dead.”
“I hate it when you’re right… So what’s up with you and Blackwood?” Samara gave her a sly grin.
“Nothing. He’s letting you stay here. Not really sure why.” She didn’t want to think too hard on the reason either.
Samara shifted against the pillow. “Really? You’re not sure?”
“Shut up. You should be focusing on figuring out who shot you, dumbass.”
“I always have time for gossip. And I’ve already compiled a mental list of who might want me dead. I just need to pull files.”
Evie nodded and stood. “I’ll help. Where’s your stash house?” Because Samara had to have stashed her stuff somewhere in Miami. She’d shown up on Evie’s doorstep with nothing but the clothes on her back and a bullet in her hip.
Samara only paused for a moment before rattling off the name of a self-storage company.