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“Why did you never reach out to me after I left?” The question burst from Caleb, or rather the boy inside Caleb who’d missed his cousin desperately.
Surprise flared in Zach’s eyes. “I did. I wrote you letters. Why didn’t you ever respond?”
Caleb frowned. “I never got any letters. I wrote some to you, too.”
“I never got them.”
They stared at each other, the past an arroyo still too wide to jump over.
Caleb shook his head, a silent dismissal of a wound deeper than any he’d received in combat, and stepped outside.
Every answer only raised more questions—and distracted him from his new mission.
Bring down Vincente Lopez.
For that, he’d kiss his grandfather’s ring if he had to.
But first, Gia had to say yes.
Chapter Fifteen
AfterleavingZach’s,Calebdrove Gia to the clinic.
She hadn’t said much—not since the night before, when he’d asked her to help take down Vincente Lopez and she’d refused.
He hadn’t pushed. Not then.
The tension coiled between them like a live wire—charged with everything unspoken and too dangerous to touch.
She needed time. But he could only give her a day or two at most before he needed to act.
With or without her.
Still, dropping her off alone at the clinic left a knot in his chest he hadn’t been able to shake.
He hit the road to Gallup, picked up a few changes of clothes, extra rounds of ammo, supplies to supplement the go-bag he'd brought from Phoenix.
By noon, he was headed back.
Back to Gia.
Three days had passed since his mother’s funeral, yet the weight of everything that happened since made it feel like a lifetime ago—like the grief belonged to someone else. The dissociation was familiar. He’d felt the same shift during combat deployments. Missions didn’t pause for mourning, other than a brief solemn acknowledgment before a rifle planted barrel-first into empty boots.
He checked the time in London and placed a call to Ryder Montague. His boss at Dìleas was the son of an earl who’d traded privilege for service, refined manners for a gun. He’d served in the British Special Air Service under Dìleas’s president, Lachlan Mackay.
The UK double ring tone pulsed in Caleb’s ear before Ryder picked up. “Back in DC, mate?”
“Not yet. I’m taking you up on that offer of more time.” Casual. As if they were discussing the weather. “There’s something I need to handle.”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the woman you asked Nathan to investigate?” Ryder’s voice stayed calm, but Caleb caught the edge of concern. “He told me what he found.”
“Doctor Barone might need relocation. A fresh start.” Caleb hesitated. “She can’t afford it, so I’ll personally cover the cost.”
Ryder made a dismissive sound. “We’ll handle it. But if this is personal, Caleb, I need to know.”
Shit yeah, it was personal, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his boss when he couldn’t even explain it to himself.
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” he muttered. “Even with a new identity, she’ll never be safe if Lopez isn’t stopped.”