Page 5

Q uinn sat down at the small table, propped her booted feet on the chair across from her and opened her laptop. She clicked on the link that would take her to a private chat deep on the Dark Web. With a surprisingly heavy heart, she waited for the meeting to begin, drumming her fingers on the scarred tabletop. Anxiety thrummed through her veins.

Did Brax get out? she wondered for the hundredth time. Her stomach revolted at the idea of him getting blown up. At the last minute, she had a twinge of conscience and tried to lure him out. But the idiot had stepped over a tripwire, triggering the explosives she’d planted.

Typical. He always made things so difficult.

Okay, yes, she had intended to kill him. Well, technically, she’d been hired by The Agency to eliminate his whole team. But, in her defense, she hadn’t known Brax was a part of Ex Nihilo until after she’d accepted the job. Plus, she didn’t go through with it because she owed him for saving her ass back in Afghanistan. She’d been inches away from stepping on an IED when he’d tackled her to the sandy ground.

And now they were even.

Well, if he was still alive.

A box popped up and Merlin began typing.

Hello, Cardinal, Merlin wrote. Is it done?

I need more time, she responded. Only one took the bait, but he may have escaped.

For a long moment, there was no response. Well, what did he expect? That she’d be able to wipe them all out at once? They were highly-trained killers, notoriously difficult to neutralize. But then again, so was she. Except her training had come from the CIA rather than the military.

That’s disappointing, he wrote.

Was it, though? She couldn’t decide and began chewing on her thumbnail, a bad habit that she couldn’t seem to stop. Especially when she was under a lot of pressure. Right now, her poor nails were shredded.

More typing. This time, a clear threat: If you can’t get the job done…

“Then what?” Quinn asked the screen, eyes narrowing. She didn’t respond well to threats. Her boots dropped to the floor with a thunk as she sat up straight and scowled at the screen.

You invited me to be a part of The Agency, she reminded him.

Not that she gave a shit about the group itself. They sounded like a bunch of elite, power-hungry assholes. Truthfully, all she’d wanted was a paycheck and a job to keep her mind busy. Their offer came at the right time with the right price tag.

On the contingency you eliminated Ex Nihilo, Merlin tossed back.

And I’m working on that, she typed, banging out the keystrokes quickly and with more force than necessary. But it felt good. Like poking that fuckwad Merlin in the eye with each press of a button.

Work faster.

Quinn sighed and pushed the laptop away. Easier said than done. This time, she had a history with her target that couldn’t be denied. Five years ago, she would’ve taken great pleasure in wiping Braxton Graves off the face off the planet. She’d been so damn angry, hurt beyond words, and she could be a hothead. Right now, however, her conscience was rearing its head and her gut was practically flashing red warning lights.

She needed to tread carefully.

Another message appeared right after the last: Ex Nihilo has one of our people in custody. If you get Dr. Ivan Zaitsev and return him to us—and destroy Ex Nihilo—we will welcome you with open arms.

What the hell? That asshole was changing the deal—without her say—and Quinn didn’t like that. It meant she couldn’t trust Merlin to keep his word. She’d had a bad feeling about him from the moment he contacted her, but she’d ignored it. It was a good chunk of change being offered. Then she’d received the dossier on the team she’d been assigned to neutralize. And Braxton Graves was at the top of the list.

Everything inside her had twisted.

Pulling up a new window, she did a quick search on Dr. Ivan Zaitsev. Several items of interest came up, most notably that he was a former Russian chemist. Quinn wasn’t stupid. If The Agency wanted a chemist, it didn’t take a genius to assume they had nefarious plans for his work. And she wasn’t interested in killing innocent people.

However, she didn’t want to arouse suspicion either. Right now, she held all the cards and had a decision to make.

Kill Braxton and get paid, or trust her gut and warn him?

Quinn typed out her response: Copy that. I’ll be in touch.

I expect results. Soon.

Merlin signed off and she frowned. Something definitely didn’t feel right. And if her four years with the CIA taught her anything, it was to listen to her gut.

According to Merlin’s pitch, The Agency was a group of like-minded individuals who wanted to make the world a better place by eliminating enemies of the US and supporting technological advancements on the homefront. So why did they need a Russian chemist? And why did they want to kill her ex-husband?

She hated not having all the answers so she could make an informed decision. But Quinn knew one thing for sure—Brax was always on the side of good. He was a goody-goody like that. Always had been. If it weren’t for her, he never would’ve learned to loosen up. If The Agency wanted to silence him, she wanted to know why.

Dammit. Suddenly, she was questioning everything. But, most importantly, was she on the right side?

She needed more information. She couldn’t trust Merlin to provide facts, but Brax would tell her the truth. The man didn’t lie. At least, he’d never lied to her. He possessed a strong code of ethics and should’ve been a member of the freaking upright brigade. Hell, his parents had met at church and he’d probably been conceived between reading Bible passages.

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut. That wasn’t fair. She’d loved Brax’s dad, and he’d welcomed her with open arms. Her beef wasn’t with Sam, it was with his son and that damn moral code of his that made him abandon her when she’d needed him the most. That righteous fucking attitude and those noble principles that he held so highly.

Quinn rubbed her temples, fighting off the beginning of a massive headache. If Brax was trying to bring down The Agency, he had a damn good reason. It also explained why they wanted him gone. Before she did anything rash, she needed more intel.

She needed to talk to Braxton.

If he was still alive.

Because, dammit, she wasn’t going to be anyone’s fucking scapegoat again.

◆◆◆

Quinn managed to track Ex Nihilo’s location down with help from an online hacker buddy and knew his team was staying at a warehouse in the Waterfront Historic District. But waltzing up to the front door and ringing the bell wasn’t exactly an option. She’d need to stake it out first and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

A plan began to form in her head, and she grabbed her trusty drone along with her go bag full of gadgets and goodies. A part of her fervently hoped to see Brax safe and sound inside. The alternative made her chest tighten.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Quinn was positioned in a clump of bushes beside the warehouse. Her hi-tech drone flew up, barely visible because it was the size of a grape, and she used the controls on her phone to maneuver it right outside the balcony door.

A group of people sat on chairs and a couple of couches. They looked deep in conversation. Quinn’s breath hitched when she saw Brax, safe and sound.

Thank God, a little voice whispered, and relief flooded her.

Now that she had confirmation he was alive, she could be pissed at him again. He’d always had that infuriating power to make her love him one second and hate him the next. The rollercoaster of emotions he’d incited usually left her dizzy, slightly out of breath and, more times than not, naked in his bed.

Of course, it had been a while since she’d found herself between the sheets with him. Hell, with anyone, and it wasn’t because her sex drive had diminished or for lack of options. No, her drawer full of naughty toys was proof of that. It was so full, she couldn’t open it without something getting caught. But the alternative of seeking out a flesh and blood man, allowing herself to open up and be vulnerable, wasn’t going to happen. Besides, no one else was capable of giving her what she needed…what Brax had been able to do to her body, not to mention her heart. The connection between them was unparalleled, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Or anything she knew she’d ever feel again.

She understood what the phrase “once in a lifetime love” meant better than anyone. And what it felt like when you suddenly lost it—like her heart had died.

Even now she still felt that potent link to him. Despite all of the other people in the room, her attention focused solely and completely on him. And she hated herself for it.

Dammit, she’d tried to forget him so many times. Six months after running, after her entire life had fallen apart, she’d picked up a random man at a bar. Determined to rid herself of Brax’s hold once and for all, she had every intention of fucking the stranger senseless.

And she couldn’t do it. He’d been attractive, nice, a decent kisser…and all she could do was compare him to Brax.

There had been no comparison.

Sighing, Quinn reluctantly admired the former love of her life. From the slicked-back waves on his head, past his angular jaw covered in stubble, down his firm chest, slim waist, muscular thighs and long legs.

Damn him. She wished she could erase him from her mind forever and never waste another thought on him again. Because when she’d needed her husband the most, he’d abandoned her. And she’d never been able to forgive him for that.

Hiding in the bushes grew tiresome fast. The ground was cold and hard, and the branches kept scraping her arms every time she moved. But watching Brax nourished a part of her soul that she thought died a long time ago.

“So serious,” she murmured, remembering how she used to love seeing his smile. It was big and bright and made his eyes crinkle at the edges.

He wasn’t smiling now.

She couldn’t help but wonder how many women had been able to coax that smile from him since they’d been apart. A zap of jealousy struck and she scowled. Most of the time, at least when he’d been working, the man was serious as a heart attack. But she could still hear the deep rumble of his laughter, still feel the way his lips had curved up in a smile against hers while dropping kisses on her face.

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut, cursing her life. Maybe she should walk away right now and never look back. Her emotions were getting the best of her and that was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to slip up because one wrong decision could prove fatal.

Battling her inner turmoil, she leaned back against the warehouse and debated over her options. And she kept coming back to the same thing—corner Brax alone, preferably vulnerable, and interrogate him point blank about The Agency and why they wanted him dead.

He would tell her the truth because he was no-bullshit that way. And, more than anything, Quinn needed the truth.

Okay, decision made. She instantly felt better and settled in. Her plan involved watching the warehouse day and night, using her small drone and keen observation skills to gain intel on every single person inside. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a pen and notebook and began jotting down information.

By six o’clock the next morning, Quinn realized everyone inside was coupled up…except Braxton. And, oddly, that made her feel better.

“You are not still hung up on your ex-husband,” she muttered under her breath then finished the coffee in her thermos. It was getting lighter outside and she needed a new hiding spot. Hanging out in the bushes probably wasn’t the greatest idea once it was fully daylight.

Grabbing her bag, she stood up, stretched and darted back to her Explorer parked down the street. She’d continue her recon from there. The tinted windows would help conceal her and she could make a quick getaway if necessary. Most importantly, though, she wanted to keep tabs on people’s comings and goings.

All day, Quinn hunkered down in her SUV and kept a close watch on the warehouse while taking meticulous notes and munching on trail mix and other assorted snacks. Another fly-by with her drone had provided insight on the room where they were holding Zaitsev, so she made sure to keep track of that space as well, and she drew out a rough map of the warehouse’s interior layout.

As she gathered intel, she forced herself to remain indifferent to the glimpses of Brax she got throughout the day. Told herself to ignore how mouthwatering he looked in a pair of gray sweatpants and a fitted T-shirt. And she was probably just imagining how he seemed a little sad and a lot alone, despite being surrounded by his team and their significant others.

Well, there was a cute cat who followed him around. But other than that…

Quinn gave her head a hard shake, telling herself she didn’t care. Good, she hoped he was alone and miserable and full of regrets. He deserved it.

At six o’clock that evening, Quinn was finishing a box of Junior Mints when the warehouse front door opened and a parade of couples streamed out. By now, she’d identified the other men and lone woman on his team based on the dossier provided by The Agency. Well, she’d made conclusions based on the intel and felt pretty confident. She’d pegged the biggest guy with unusual amber-colored eyes as Grayson “Demon” Ellis; the sun-bronzed Ken doll always laughing as Ryland “Rip” Mills; the dark-haired one who wore glasses and always had his nose in a laptop as Zane “Banshee” Hawkins; the gorgeous badass twirling a pair of nunchucks as Inda “Bruja” Diaz; and the ink-covered man constantly holding and kissing a blonde could only be Nik “Saint” Valentine.

And they, along with their significant others, just waltzed out the door and were casually heading up the block, probably going to grab dinner and drinks at the corner restaurant/bar.

There was no sign of Braxton. She couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.

Time to strike.