by Elise Faber
My eyes stung.
And he kept talking.
“I’d already known that I liked you. Already knew that you were so fucking smart and good at your job and beautiful and kind, but I hadn’t really expected that kindness to extend to me, baby. I—” He broke off, shook his head. “And when it did . . .” His eyes burned into mine. “When it did, I knew you fucking owned my heart.”
I swallowed hard again.
I lost the battle with tears, one sneaking down my cheek.
Then I tossed the box aside and kissed him with everything in my heart. “You’ve become my family,” I whispered when we broke apart. “You’re in so fucking deep, I don’t think you’ll ever be able to find your way out.”
A brush of his mouth to mine. “Well, I don’t want to,” he grumbled.
My lips twitched at the surly tone. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”
His arms wound around my middle, hauling me toward him until our bodies were pressed together. “Good,” he whispered.
And then he kissed me again.
I went to bed that night—or morning, rather—with the man who loved me holding me tight, knowing that we might not have every bit of the future figured out, that our love might be new and fresh like the first flowers poking up in early spring, but that we would be okay.
Knowing that the love would grow and change, the future would sort itself out.
Because I had this man, and he had me right back.
And I knew that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
KTS Satellite Base
Western Georgia
14:25hrs
Linc
Later that day, Olive, our respective teams, and I went back to the scene to comb through the road and the surrounding woods searching for any clues the cleanup team might have missed.
But aside from a receipt for a local gas station, a collection of beer bottles and candy wrappers, we didn’t find anything that might lead us in the direction of where Daniel had gone.
I knew he’d creep up again, that his rot would reappear, would continue to seep into the agency.
I just didn’t know when.
For now, though, we had bigger problems. We needed to look at our own house, needed to make sure our agents were clean. We also needed more effective security—or perhaps to move base locations, depending on how far down we had been compromised.
And based on Jack’s involvement, that was pretty fucking deep.
Ava was standing next to Olive, the former in her cast and only here after a verbal battle with his woman, who’d been pissed as hell that Ava had run on the break and was trying to work today. She’d only relented when Ava had made it clear she was coming and would bring a fucking chair to properly rest her ankle as need be.
The chair had been nixed, but so had the trek through the woods, instead, she and Olive were inspecting the road.
“I don’t understand how there aren’t any scorch marks,” Olive was saying, scrubbing her boot through a few remaining shards of glass. “That explosion took us all down, and I swear, I felt it reverberate through me like a bomb.” A frown. “But none of us had injuries like a bomb.” She rubbed her temple. “I can’t even remember anything after the bright light.”
“The device he activated was like a flash-bang,” Ava said. “But quieter. I got a little dizzy when the light came through my scope, but by then I was already jumping up and trying to follow.” She sighed. “He’d already shot Hannah when I made it close enough to track him. She was awake—so maybe she didn’t get the full force of the stun?” A shake of her head. “I don’t know. She told me to go after him, but I should have—”
Olive touched her arm. “You didn’t know she was critical.”
“I should have stayed, should have made sure.” Ava’s face was drawn. “If she’d died, it would have been on me.”
“No,” I said, moving forward and resting my arm around Olive’s shoulders. “That was on Daniel. He’s the one responsible. Him and Jack. If they hadn’t tried to come after KTS, none of us would be here.”
She nodded, but I knew it wasn’t that easy.
There would be plenty of blame to share.
“I wish I’d been able to get a fucking shot off when I was tailing him.” She glared down at her foot. “Can’t wait until this fucking thing comes off.”
“If it helps, I’ve decided I’m working on something to help with bone growth for my next project,” Olive told her.
Ava made a face. “Oh, it helps all right.”
“I’ll remind you that the last invention was created in response to that time you were stabbed.” Olive’s lips curved. “You keep getting hurt and pretty soon the team and I’ll have developed a cure for every ailment.”
“I’ll do my best—”
She whirled around, gun in her hand. Olive and I fanning out and matching her actions.
Because there was movement in the bushes.
And not on the side that our team was on.
“Show yourself,” I ordered.
A branch, heavy with green leaves, shifted, and I saw a teenage boy appear.
I didn’t lower my gun, and neither did Ava. We’d both seen too many people who appeared innocent turn out to be the opposite. But Olive did drop her gun, hurrying across the road. “Dominic!” she said, grabbing onto him and hauling him close.
He said something I couldn’t hear, and she laughed, and though I moved closer, letting my gun drop to my side—seeing Ava do the same—I didn’t put it back in my holster.
Laila came up behind me. “Who’s that?”
“Dominic, apparently.”
Olive stepped back, wrapped her fingers around the kid’s arm, and dragged him forward. “This is Dominic,” she said. “He’s the one who called Laila for me last night.” She smiled up at him. “And gave me the scissors. These are my friends Laila, Ryker, Dan, Ava, Lily, and Jesse, and this is my boyfriend, Linc.”
The kid’s gaze came to mine. “Hi,” he whispered.
I relaxed. Marginally.
Clearly, he was the teenager who’d helped her out of the car, the one who’d cut off her bindings. But the relaxation was only marginal because there was something in this kid’s eyes that prickled my senses.
And I wasn’t proven wrong.
The next words that came out of his mouth were, “I need your help.”
“What’s the matter, honey?” Olive asked.
“They’re going to kill me.”
We got the story back at base, after we’d searched Dominic for tracking chips, had disposed of his cell, and checked his backpack for anything that might show that he was trying to fuck us over.
But there wasn’t anything on the kid besides some raggedy textbooks, a few notepads, and a couple of pens and pencils.
I thought he’d cry when I crunched his cell and launched it into the woods, but he hadn’t complained, just sat there and let us search him and his belongings until we were satisfied that bringing him back with us was . . . if not safe, then at least a manageable risk.
“My mom is dating David.”
He looked around, no doubt at the blank faces surrounding him at the conference room, eyes going to the camera set up in the corner to record the interview (old school since the whole system of cameras had already been removed).
“Who’s David?” Olive asked gently.
“The man who was driving the car,” he said. “The one who was trying to hurt you.”
An almost tangible change in the room.
“Ah,” Olive said, “we know him as Daniel. He’s dating your mom?”
He nodded.
“Where’s your mom now, Dom?” she asked. “Daniel really isn’t safe. We should get her—”
He shook his head. “She’s gone.”
I sucked in a silent breath. Gone as in—
“I—I saw what he did to you,” he whispered. “How he was going to shoot you, and then I just remember a flash an—a
nd I woke up and it was quiet. The cars were still there, and blood was in the road, and I thought he’d . . .” Dom closed his eyes, opened them. “I ran back to my house—it’s not far up the road, and my mom wasn’t there. Her car was gone and—”
“Was it a . . .” Ava listed off the make and model of the sedan that had picked up Daniel the night before.
He nodded, hope creeping into his expression. “She didn’t come back last night. I waited and waited, and I thought . . . well, I came back to the road, thought maybe . . . I don’t know . . . that she couldn’t get through because the cops had blocked the road or something. But everything was gone.” He glanced at Olive, at me. “Have you guys seen her?”
Silence.
Then Olive covered his hand. “She picked up Daniel before we could get to him.”
More silence.
Though this time it was like a fucking punch to the gut, because I couldn’t get the hurt in the kid’s eyes out of my head. It was like this was the final blow, that he’d been holding onto a slender thread of hope and it had just been snuffed out.
I knew the feeling.
I knew it too fucking well.
“She left me to get to him.” It wasn’t a question, Dom’s tone laced with resignation. “She didn’t care, just left me because . . . she’s in some fucked up relationship with a man who treats her like shit.”
I didn’t want to push him, but we needed to circle back to the important parts. “Why did you say they were going to kill you?”
Dominic’s eyes met mine. “They knew I helped you.”
Olive released a breath. “Daniel saw you?”
“I don’t know.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I think so? I mean, he must have seen me with you in the road.” A sigh. “I went back home after everything was cleaned up to wait for my mom, but she didn’t show. Instead, these huge SUVs—kind of like the one we rode in here—pulled up, and they started searching the house.”
His gaze went to his hands. “I hadn’t even made it inside, was still walking through the woods next to the house when they screeched into the driveway, and for a moment, I almost went out to greet them. I thought maybe they were with you guys, but . . . something made me wait.”
He inhaled sharply. “And then they came out and someone said, ‘the kid isn’t here.’ And another was pissed, said that ‘David needed to teach me a lesson for interfering.’” He looked up, pain in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hit the car. I didn’t even know he was in it. It was dark and in the middle of the road and—”
“None of this is your fault, Dom,” Olive said.
Bleak brown eyes. “My mom is with him.”
“We’re going to find Daniel,” she promised.
He nodded, but that bleakness didn’t go away.
“Do you have any family we can get you to?” Laila asked. “Someone far away who you might be able to stay with for a while?”
“No.” A beat. “It’s always just been my mom and me. I haven’t even gone to school in two years.” He inclined his head in the direction of the books. “Not since we moved here with David.”
I looked at the cover, saw what I’d missed before. They were battered because the kid had borrowed them from the library.
Fucking hell.
“Have you slept?” I asked. “Or eaten since yesterday?”
Dominic shook his head.
“Right,” I said and stood. “Food, bed, and then we’ll figure the rest out later.”
Laila lifted her brows but didn’t protest, and neither did anyone else. Olive walked beside me as I brought Dominic to a set of rooms in a section of the base that was under constant surveillance. I knew he saw the guards, but he didn’t protest, just walked in through the door I opened and thanked me when I said I’d bring food.
When Olive and I returned with a tray—I wasn’t quite up to letting her out of my sight yet—Dominic was already asleep, so we left the tray on the desk, made sure that a guard would always be posted outside his door—I was sympathetic, not stupid—and made that guard promise to get word to us the moment he woke up.
Then we walked back to the conference room to join the conversation, to plan our next steps.
First, would be getting the base secure.
Next, would be tracking down Daniel, though that probably related back to the first.
Last, would be setting up a trap to draw in any other rogue agents.
Jesse and Lily would be in charge of the last. Laila and Ryker were on tracking down Daniel. Ava and Dan would be on base security. And Olive and I?
We were going to figure out what to do with Dominic.
Epilogue
KTS Satellite Base
Western Georgia
19:34hrs
Olive
I glanced up at the knock at the door to my office and smiled. “Dom, come in.”
The lanky teenager slipped inside the room, closing the door behind him. “Hi, Ollie,” he said, his voice as soft as ever. “Sorry to bother you.”
It had been two months since Jack had kidnapped me. Two months minus one day since Dom had come to live on base.
Two months minus approximately two days since we’d run out of ideas of what to do with him. Foster care wasn’t an option, not when the kid had already been through the wringer, and not when putting him into someone else’s home might bring danger upon whatever family or group home that took him. Beyond the danger—also a factor in why we couldn’t just set him up with some money and turn him loose—I felt responsible for him.
He’d helped me when he hadn’t needed to.
And that had put him at risk.
So I’d gone up against the powers that be, going so far as to threaten to leave. KTS all together (luckily it hadn’t come to that), and Dom had a place to stay here until it was safe for him to leave
And I was going to make sure that leaving didn’t happen until he was ready to leave.
Then I still wouldn’t let him go completely. Because he was family, too.
He was a good kid, and these last two months had shown that. He’d researched and found an online school to attend, was slowly getting caught up with what he’d missed and hadn’t been able to supplement over the last couple of years. I’d bought him books and supplies, much to his protests and for which he’d stubbornly paid me back by going to the mess and picking up shifts washing dishes. And just last week, I saw that he’d somehow gotten another job mopping hallways.
And we still hadn’t been able to locate his mom.
Or Daniel.
But his mom was more important to him, which was why he came in this time nearly every day asking me for details, if we’d had any sightings.
Which we hadn’t.
Which I hated to tell him because I hated to be the one to make his eyes go sad. But I still told him, still gave him any information I could. Because I knew what it was like to be alone in the world, knew what it was like to be drifting without family.
Hopefully soon he would understand that he was part of mine.
“Looking for an update?” I asked.
To my surprise, he shook his head, his lips turning up at the corners, mischief entering his eyes, and he held up a letter. “I’m supposed to give you this.” He thrust the envelope into my hands. “See you later, Ollie.”
I blinked, looked around as though I expected someone to jump out because I was on a hidden camera show.
When no one appeared, I glanced down at the envelope.
Then recognized the handwriting.
“Oh, Linc,” I muttered. “What did you do?”
Why don’t you find out and open the envelope? I imagined him saying.
I listened to my imaginary boyfriend’s command and tore the flap free, pulling out the note inside.
8pm. Your room. Dress nice.
I frowned.
Then I smiled.
Was tonight Date Night?
Linc had been talking a big game about this date he’d planned,
lamenting over how nice it was going to be, whining about all his plotting going to waste because we’d been too busy with everything to sneak out for a date.
And then last week, when we’d been planning on dinner, my belongings had arrived from England—seeing as how Georgia was going to be my team’s home base for now—and we’d spent our free night unpacking my stuff into Linc’s rooms.
Because I had a live-in boyfriend.
Also, could I say how much I loved the fact that I hadn’t even had to consider what I was going to do about a kid I was taking responsibility for in Georgia and a team based in England. They’d all just up and relocated to this base and wouldn’t hear a word of my protests.
Smiling as I shut down my computer, I hurried from my office and made my way back to our rooms, seeing that it was almost 8:00 already and if my man wanted me to dress nice, it was going to have to be a quick change.
I was thinking I needed to train him better, to remind him that makeup and hair took time and couldn’t be materialized on a whim, when I turned the corner.
And saw him.
He was standing outside our rooms, a bouquet of vibrant purple and red flowers in his hands. He smiled, closed the distance between us, kissing me lightly on the lips.
“I’m not ready,” I protested.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I was kidding about the dress nice part.” Another kiss. “I just figured it would be the only way to get you out of your office in a timely manner.”
“That’s not true.”
He lifted a brow.
“Okay, fine. It’s probably true.” I had been spending my days elbow-deep in bone chemistry. I was determined to find a way to heal them faster.
“Exactly.” He kissed me again.
“Stop that,” I ordered. “I need to get ready.”
“And I told you,” he said. “You don’t.”
“But it’s Date Night.”
One brow lifting. “Is it?”
I stomped a foot. “You’re telling me the note isn’t for Date Night?” I asked archly.
“I didn’t say that.”
My temper began to spike. “Linc.”