Page 33

Ivy massaged her uninjured palm into the steering wheel, but no amount of distraction could take away from the desperation clawing through her chest. Carson had made his choice to go back to the cartel in an effort to warn the friends he’d made of the danger headed their way. She should let him deal with the consequences of that choice. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him to Sebastian’s sadism. She couldn’t let him suffer as she had in that small room at the salvage yard.
She was angry with him—more than she’d been when he’d taken this assignment—but that didn’t mean she’d stopped caring about him. Loving him. Nobody, not even her worst enemy, deserved that kind of pain. She’d watched her mother endure it for years and had finally gotten the strength to put it to a stop. It had taken everything she had, and she wouldn’t give anything less now.
Because she loved him.
Because the best thing she could do with this life was to protect someone else. But Carson hadn’t seen her devotion to stop the pain of this world from touching those she cared about as selfless. His accusation, that she bulldozed everyone and everything in her path to get what she wanted, had left her feeling carved out and empty. She’d known what her former partners had thought of her. She’d heard their whispers and knew about their transfer requests. With Carson…she’d beendifferent. She’d let him through her guard. She’d smiled more. She’d laughed. Their banter had kept her from spiraling into the nightmares of the past, and his touch had kept her warm.
But old habits died hard.
She could see where she’d messed up, like a long line of dominoes. Tip the first one and the others were bound to feed into the final outcome. The end of their partnership had been coming for a long time. The wrong turns she’d taken were clear as day as she looked back. By not fighting his acceptance of the undercover assignment. By keeping her distance when he’d brought back intel to Socorro. By telling him her safety and health weren’t his concern. It was all there, staring back at her in a mirror of failure. She’d just been too late to put a stop to the final domino from falling.
“You’re going to tear that steering wheel in half if you keep it up.” Granger Morais kept his attention straight forward, his laptop open as he provided the GPS info on their stolen SUV. But she already knew where they were headed. No matter what the tracking said. “We’re about a mile out.”
“We’re not going for the SUV. Send the coordinates forSangre por Sangre’s headquarters to the rest of the team.” She targeted each of the SUVs in her rearview mirror. Four vehicles in total with two police cruisers in the rear. She’d tried to convince Chief Halsey to stay with Jocelyn, but there’d been no persuading the man from getting his pound of flesh. Sebastian would regret the day he’d put his hands on one of her operatives.
The cartel would see them coming from a mile away. That was the point. To take a stand. To make a point. That nobody messed with Socorro Security.
“You’re sure that’s where this ends?” Granger was looking at every angle, every possibility. The idea of them showing up to an empty building was probably the worst that could happen in his eyes.
She directed her attention to the SUV up ahead. Angled off the side of the road. Abandoned. Except somewhere in the back of her mind she realized someone would’ve had to have driven it out into the middle of the desert. Someone most likely waiting to ambush them. “More sure than I’ve been about anything else in my life.”
Ivy grabbed for the radio velcroed to the dashboard and hit the talk button. She’d had Alpine Valley PD tuned in to their private channel in case they got separated. “We’re coming up on our stolen SUV. Be prepared to take on fire.”
Granger reached into the back seat and pulled his Kevlar from beside his bull terrier, Zeus. The dog was more fat than muscle, but when it came to protecting his handler, the K-9 never failed. Mostly by sitting on anyone who dared get close enough. The counterterrorism agent threaded himself into his gear. He leaned forward in his seat, studying their SUV through the windshield, then took the radio and opened the line. “Movement. Passenger side, back wheel well. Scarlett, that’s all you.”
“Understood.” The security consultant’s voice crackled through the line.
Ivy sped past the sitting SUV, then watched as Scarlett hung back and let Alpine PD, Jones and Cash pass. The SUV at the rear of the pack moved out of line.
Then the shooting started. The cartel soldier presumably responsible for ditching the SUV opened fire on the caravan. Bullets thudded against Ivy’s back window but didn’t penetrate, thanks to bulletproof glass and armored panels.
Scarlett’s vehicle suddenly sped up.
And targeted the back quarter panel of the abandoned SUV. The security consultant rammed her vehicle straight into the other. The cartel soldier was caught by the collision and thrown clear.
“What the hell is she doing? I wanted her to trigger the explosive. Not ram the other vehicle.” Slowing, Ivy brought the rest of the vehicles to a halt to assess the situation. She forced her upper body to turn in her seat. Waiting. The driver’s-side airbag had deployed in the rear vehicle.
“Guess Scarlett has her own ideas of what qualifies as ‘that’s all you.’” Granger didn’t seem surprised. Or worried. It was his calm nature that would get her through what was to come. “See? She’s fine.”
Ivy caught sight of her operator punching down the airbag. Scarlett shouldered out of the vehicle, not an inch worse for wear. In fact, a wide smile had taken over the security consultant’s expression as she hitched a ride in one of the other vehicles. Ivy turned back to the road. “I need to up her liability insurance.”
The radio staticked. “Am I supposed to ignore the fact Scarlett intentionally rammed another vehicle and most likely killed everyone inside?” Chief Halsey asked.
Ivy nodded to the radio. “That’s all you, Morais.”
Her counterterrorism operative fisted the radio. “Yes.” One word. End of conversation.
The hum of tires on dirt worked to settle her nerves as they approachedSangre por Sangre’s headquarters, but she couldn’t trust that feeling. Not yet. Not until they had a clear read on the situation and Carson’s location. “Remember the priority.”
“I got it.” Granger thumbed bullets into the magazine of his pistol, laptop now angled sideways at his feet. “Get Lang out. Make sure Sebastian doesn’t leave. Easy as…Jocelyn’s homemade chocolate chip cookies.”
“Have you seen the amount of ingredients that goes into those?” she asked. “They are not easy. But, damn, are they worth the wait.”
He didn’t respond right away, the pressure of his attention boring into her as strong and slow as an oil drill.
“She’s going to be okay, Ivy. Jocelyn is strong,” he said. “She’ll be back in the field in no time.”
Ivy’s grip tightened all over again. “But will she forgive me for putting her in the crosshairs in the first place?”