Page 42 of Declan (Gold Team #5)

Two months later—Maryland

Zane

“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lewis.”

“Please call me Zane and congratulations on the win.”

“Thank you.”

I glanced from the president-elect to President Tom Anderson and waited. As per usual with Tom, he hadn’t briefed me on why Trent Graham had requested a sit-down.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Graham?”

“Trent will be fine,” he corrected.

I eyed him, then Tom, and wondered what in the hell was going on.

I didn’t know this man personally, though I voted for him after the vice president was forced to drop out of the race for the White House.

Tom had supported Graham in his bid for his job, and I had a thick file on the man, but in my business that didn’t mean shit.

President-elect Graham would have to prove himself.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Tom’s deep, rumbling chuckle filled my office and I narrowed my gaze on the man .

I was going to miss the old son-of-a-bitch. He’d made it clear that the day after the inauguration, he was taking his wife and moving back to Texas and I couldn’t blame the man. The last eight years hadn’t been easy.

“Told you he was a stubborn asshole,” Tom said. “He’s bossy, too. But I’m telling you, no better man to have your back.”

Graham smiled at Tom, then turned back to me. “I wanted to discuss your future.”

What the fuck ?

“This isn’t my first dog and pony show. I’ve been in Washington a long time.

So I know good men are hard to come by, trust harder, and loyalty damn impossible.

Tom has assured me I can find all three in you and your team.

I need good men surrounding me. Gerrard is retiring and moving to Texas to continue to be Tom’s personal guard.

A buddy of mine, Lucas Grant, former SEAL, will be my personal guard. ”

“I appreciate Tom’s…praise. I can also appreciate your situation. However, I’m not sure if I can be of service.”

“Zane—”

“I understand,” Graham interrupted Tom. “It will take time before I earn those three things with you. And I look forward to doing just that.”

Fucking shit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Tom glaring at me.

Then I made a decision.

“May I be frank?”

“I’d prefer it, yes.”

“I don’t know you. I don’t like working with people I don’t know when the result of that is my ass is swinging in the wind.

With that said, I’ll meet with Grant. I’ll introduce you to my team.

Now, here’s the frank part—you fuck my team, I’ll bury you.

I don’t play games of politics, I don’t do dirty work because you wanna cover your ass and hide like a pansy. ”

“Noted.” Graham’s mouth twitched.

“And I swear on all things holy, that daughter of yours ditches her detail, decides she wants to be free to be herself and not live behind gates, do not call me. Been there, done that. And I have seen pictures of your daughter, and no offense, but she’s hot.

Once was enough, and Colin was lucky to keep his balls. ”

“No offense taken. And I can assure you, my daughter would have no interest, your men aren’t her type.”

“No shit?”

“I might be a politician, but like you, I don’t play the game. My daughter’s sexuality is hers and not for public consumption, and certainly not for my party to pander.”

“I think I almost like you,” I told him, and Tom snickered.

“Then we’re off to a good start,” he returned. “I’ll be in touch to set up a meeting.”

“The sooner the better.”

“Is there something I should know about?”

“There’s always something you should know about.

With Strotherby gone, we finished dismantling Omni.

But the task force Tom built should still watch to make sure they don’t try to rebuild.

Timor-Leste is a tinderbox and the rebels are gaining momentum.

You need to have a care because the Russians are supplying the guns and they don’t do anything out of the goodness of their hearts.

Australia might not like it much the Russians get a stronghold on an island across the Timor Sea from them. ”

“Still hard to believe Madeleine Strotherby was behind the largest human trafficking ring in the world,” Graham noted.

“The level of depravity doesn’t surprise me,” I told him. “ People don’t surprise me.”

“A cynic?”

“A realist.”

Graham offered me his hand, and when I took it, he gave me an assessing stare.

“I think I almost like you, too, Zane Lewis. I think this is gonna be good.”

“Can’t say I’m happy to see Tom leave the White House, but I am pleased to see you taking his spot.”

“I appreciate that. I take it I had your vote?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna vote for that douchebag Winston.”

Graham’s hand in mine tightened and his body shook with laughter. Tom wasn’t far behind Graham and my chest burned.

I was gonna miss the old son-of-a-bitch.

Owen

I ignored the men walking down the stairs from Zane’s office and continued to read the report Garrett had emailed me.

Sarah Pollaski .

It had been months and I still couldn’t get down with the name. She was Natasha to me—always would be. But she wasn’t Natasha, she was Sarah.

Sarah Jane Pollaski, daughter of Barny Pollaski, niece of Wilco Pollaski.

The more details I read—details that should’ve come direct from Nat—the angrier I became. The woman had been living in my house for months, yet she didn’t trust me, still wouldn’t offer up a single piece of personal information.

“That Garrett’s report?” Myles asked, and I looked up at my team leader.

“Yep.”

“Fucked-up,” he noted.

“That’s an understatement.”

And it was—the understatement of the century .

Nat’s life read like a Dateline NBC special.

It all started in a multi-million dollar graystone in East Lincoln Park. Behind the hand-carved front door and leaded glass windows lived pure evil…

“I take it she still hasn’t told you any of this?” Myles pulled me from my thoughts.

“Nope. Before Maloof took her, Nat was starting to open up but now we’re back to square one.”

It didn’t escape my notice that my friend’s jaw clenched when I called Sarah, Nat. My team had started using her real name, I however had not. I hated the name Sarah, not because it was a bad name, it just didn’t match the image of the woman who’d been living with me since we’d found her in Alaska.

“Brother, you need to—”

“Do what? Set her out? Tell her she needs to leave? What should I do, Myles? She’s got no place to go and the only family she’s got is Wilco Pollaski, the reigning king of Chicago’s underground pussy rental.

You read the same report I did. High-class escorts, cops on his payroll, local officials, ties to the mayor’s office.

You don’t think every one of those assholes isn’t dipping into what Wilco’s renting?

I set her out, she’s got nothing, then what?

She’s forced to go back. Wilco’s already proved he’s not just a motherfucker but a sick motherfucker, giving his own flesh and blood to Ashaki Maloof, knowing she was gonna make Nat’s life a living hell.

Which brings us to why the fuck would the man do that?

What did Nat do to piss him off? What does she know that would cause her uncle to give her away? And why didn’t he just kill her?”

So many unanswered questions, with answers Nat had but refused to tell me.

“No, Owen, I’m not suggesting you set her out. I’m saying maybe you’re in too deep. She can come live with me.”

“Hell no.”

Myles’ eyes narrowed at my vehemence.

“That right there is why she should.”

He wasn’t wrong, I was in way too fucking deep. I cared way too fucking much. But Natasha wasn’t going anywhere.

“And what, you think we move her into your place and she’ll magically open up to you?”

“Negative. I think she’ll lock up tight. But my concern isn’t Sarah. My concern is you, and I think you need time away from her to gain perspective.”

Myles wasn’t wrong about that either—I was so wrapped in Nat I’d lost all perception of reality.

I lived with a woman I barely knew. I went to bed and woke up with a stranger living under my roof, but the thought of her not being there twisted my insides.

She wasn’t a puzzle I wanted to solve. It felt like she was the missing pieces that fit into mine.

The Natasha I knew was soft-spoken, considerate, a great cook, and sweet. But simmering under the cautious, shy front was something more. I’d seen it flash—the bold, the wild, dying to break free. I’d felt it under my palms, tasted it on my tongue.

My cell rang and I glanced at the display, saw Nat’s name, and didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“He found me,” she whispered and my spine snapped straight.

“Who found you?”

“My uncle.”

I shot up from my chair, tagged my keys, and started for the elevator.

“Is he there?”

“No. I checked the mail. There’s an envelope with my name on it. Posted from Chicago.”

“The house locked up? Alarm on?”

“Yeah,” she answered, still whispering.

“Where are you? ”

“In your room.”

Jesus, why did knowing she’d gone into my room looking for safety make my blood heat?

I stabbed the down button and felt my chest start to burn.

“Stay there. I’ll be home in ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Owen.”

No, that made my blood heat—her soft words, her appreciation, her knowing if she called I’d come home to her.

Myles stepped into the elevator with me and stared at me expectantly. He didn’t like the situation. He didn’t like knowing I was falling for a woman who was wrapped up in some seriously bad shit. But he’d take my back.

So would Gabe and Kevin.

We were a team.

Brothers.

And no matter what, they’d have my back, and by extension they’d have Natasha’s.

“Do I need to call the others?”

There it was—Myles taking my back.

“Yeah.”

Without further question, Myles pulled out his phone and I tried to calm my frustration.

The time had come—no more pussy footing around, no more gentle coaxing. I needed answers and Natasha was going to give them to me.