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PATRICK

“This is the last known location for Jade,” I whispered as I snuck around the outside of the house with Nick and Chase.

“Why are we doing this again?” Nick asked.

I glanced over my shoulder and glared at him. “Because he’s Asher’s ex-wife and she’s in danger by association.”

He held up his hands, shaking his head. “I wasn’t saying it’s wrong. I was just asking. She didn’t seem to want to be found.”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” I muttered, “but that doesn’t mean she should be wrapped up in this shit.”

I peeked in the window of the safe house, checking to see if anyone was inside. Smirking, I watched as Jade sat on the couch with the remote in hand, flipping through the channels.

“I’ll go in first. You two stay out here. The last thing we need is her flipping out.”

“Sure. We’ll just wait out here in the fucking cold,” Nick muttered.

“It could be worse. You could be with Fox right now, and he could offer to warm you up with a good musical number.”

I laughed at the horror on Nick’s face. I wondered how many times Fox had offered to perform for him when they were SEALs.

I snuck around the back and jimmied the lock before stepping inside.

Slipping through the house was easy enough, and I was pretty sure Cash would have alarms going off somewhere since I broke in, but since he wasn’t here to rescue her, it didn’t matter. He’d see me and know why I was here.

If he was still looking out for her.

“Gotta say, I was not expecting to find you watching Real Housewives.”

She gasped and spun around, glaring at me when she saw me leaning casually against the doorframe to the living area. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to swoop in and save you.”

She flipped off the TV and stood, tossing the remote on the table. “Well, you can go away. I don’t need saving.”

I glanced around the one-bedroom safe house and raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? Because this place is fucking depressing.”

“And where did you plan on sending me? I’m not going back to OPS.”

“Wasn’t planning on taking you there.”

“Then where were you going to take me?”

“Send you. Paris.”

Her jaw dropped and excitement lit her face. “France?”

“That’s usually where people assume when I say Paris. Though, if you’d like, I could send you to Texas. I doubt it’s as beautiful as the real deal, but I hear they have an Eiffel Tower. It even has a cowboy hat on top.”

She grimaced at that. “I can’t imagine I would survive long in Texas.”

“You’d be surprised what you can live through,” I chuckled, knowing she was already well aware.

“Wait, what about the threat?”

“We have it on good authority that the threat has been removed.”

“Then why would I need to be moved somewhere else? Why can’t I just go about my life here?”

That was a question I didn’t want to answer, but knew I had to. “It’s just a precaution. With everything going on, it’s best if you’re as far away from OPS as possible.”

“You mean, as far away from Asher.”

I shook my head immediately. “This has nothing to do with him. I swear it. But the fact remains that unless you’re not at OPS, you’re still potentially a target.”

“So, I leave.”

“You leave,” I agreed.

“If they found me here, they could find me there.”

“They could.” I pulled out a packet and handed it over to her. “A new identity, done by the best of the best. You’re taking over someone else’s identity.”

“How?” she shook her head, flipping through the new identity.

I grimaced at the thought of telling her. “It’s a little morbid. Basically, someone took a child who died as an infant and kept them alive throughout the years. There aren’t many identities like this available.”

“Kept the child alive…” she said hesitantly, looking up at me.

“Enrolled the child in school, kept records of appointments, where you went to college, gave you a job…for all intents and purposes, this person had an identity that can’t be denied.

You belong to this identity now. No one will be able to find you with this because you are now legally Ana?s Boucher.

You’ll be able to go through customs with no issues and return to your apartment. ”

“My apartment…”

“Everything you need is already there. From what I understand, there’s a lovely cafe just down the street from you where many people love to eat breakfast—or whatever people do in Paris.”

She shook her head. I knew the whole thing was overwhelming, but this was a good thing for her—better than most people in her position could ever hope for. But she needed this chance to start over more than anyone else I knew.

“And I just pick up this new identity. What do I do for work?”

“You already have money. There’s a number for an accountant who can make sure all your funds are transferred to your new identity. As for work, that’s up to you.”

When she looked back up at me, there were tears in her eyes. “I get to start over.”

“Completely, but you can’t ever tell anyone who you are. Not a thing from your past. Remember, every time you let something slip, there’s a chance someone could locate you. From now on, you’re Ana?s Boucher.”

She nodded, blowing out a breath. “Will I ever see you again?”

The hope in her eyes was heartbreaking. I wanted to tell her yes, but the truth was, seeing her would only put a target on her back by any number of people.

“No,” she whispered, already reading my thoughts.

“Jade…I wish I could say yes. Even though you’re a pain in the ass, I don’t completely mind seeing you.”

“I understand, and thank you. Sincerely, Patrick. This is…more than I ever thought I would get.”

“It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find some French prick who will fall for you in no time.”

She laughed, but it fell short of happy.

I knew I was sending her off where no one would know her, and she couldn’t contact any of us ever again, but this was for the best. Her life had been filled with tragedy for so long that I doubted she would know true happiness unless it smacked her in the face.

“Just one request,” I said, taking a step forward. “When you get there, find yourself a good therapist to continue with.”

“So I don’t drive another van into a tree?” she smirked sadly.

“And no pills. Not even fucking Tylenol, unless you’re about to die of a splitting headache. Swear it to me right now.”

“I swear,” she whispered. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to my cheek and gave me a hug. “Thank you so much, Patrick.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a pit in my stomach at the thought of leaving her. I remembered the days I watched over her, how prying a smile out of her became my daily mission. I used to do anything I could to make her smile. Hopefully, she would no longer have to rely on a man for any of that.

“I hope you find a better life than the one you were handed.”

She smiled at me and stepped back. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that I already know French.”

“Which is exactly why I did my best to get you to Paris,” I chuckled. “Now, can I let the guys in to see you one last time or would you prefer to slip off into the night?”

Her smile was bright, but I knew this was going to be hard on her. She’d make it, though. She’d already been through the worst. Now was her time to move forward and be someone else. Anyone who wasn’t related to her psychopath father. She straightened her shoulders and nodded at me.

“Let’s do this.”