Page 18

Hunt

When her breath becomes steady, I slide out of bed, resolved to end this assignment so I can declare my true feelings. Friend my ass. She may lie to herself, but her eyes say so much more. Inhaling her pheromones, my chest heaves. I already miss her warm body wrapped around me. I almost lost her, for fuck’s sake.

As I slip into my borrowed clothes, the ghosts of Dave and Speedy haunt me. Our FUBAR mission, their funerals, the whole shebang—it hits me like a brick. I might have failed them, but it can never happen again.

Dressed for war, I sweep the perimeter. In my SUV, I read the note taped to the steering wheel— Call me if you need help, K

I’ll bet my badge—Kelly’s brother knows all about those Iranians. They aren’t here to paint nails and braid hair, that’s for sure.

While I wait, I raise my automatic weapon. Night vision goggles lowered, I recall Batt’s instructions.

“The president wants numbers. You will get them.” He assured me, after we had an adequate count, the army would be deployed at both borders.

Back then the idea sounded ludicrous. “But cameras, sir? Give me a few drones, satellite feeds, and a couple of data analysts. I could have this done in less than a week.”

“Orders from the top. If you don’t like it, take it up with the director.”

You, Agent Hornsby, have the backbone of a jellyfish.

I suppose it’s lucky I didn’t say those last words out loud. No doubt I would’ve been facing insubordination—suspended sans pay.

For the first time, I relish my exile. Had I not participated in Wulf’s last adventure, Kelly and her town would be on their own. Waiting, I pray these crossings are only stage one in a much longer operation.

I need more time.

A shiver, unrelated to the cold, runs down my spine.

Fuck it. A professional, I silence my thoughts. Once the forest has absorbed my essence, a coyote sniffs me before racing into the dark.

Nothing to see here, buddy. Only an armed man, protecting the woman he’s falling for.

A twig cracks. For a moment, my breathing halts.

A flashlight beam appears. A man in snow camos follows. He carries a wand and a can of paint. Except for the eyes, his face remains hidden under a ski mask.

When his electronics beep near one of my devices, he sprays the miniature lens. Afterward, he waves civilians and their four guards forward.

Giving no prior warning, the mercenary at the tail end of the procession hisses through his teeth. “ Merde . Stop.”

When they all turn, he raises a fist. Slowly, he places a finger to his lips.

Do I live or die? It’s a coin toss. While I place the closest in my crosshairs, I blink away a drop of sweat. Time dilates. I slow my heart rate and calm my mind.

The gun, my lover, I caress the trigger. C’mon, boys, make your move.

All at once, John, or Zhun , as he pronounces it, whispers, “There’s no one out there. Let’s go. We have another run before dawn.”

As they pass by me, the foreigners mutter. If my Farsi is accurate, they have an even lower opinion of the French Canadian than me. Hard to believe.

Safe now, I walk behind at a distance. After their taillights disappear down the narrow road, I race to where I hid my vehicle. Jumping in the driver’s seat, I follow the tracker I placed under their chassis.

The signal leads me to a swanky motel near the slopes, where they exit their white Mercedes van. I snap pictures of their now uncovered faces. After storing images in the cloud, I text the URL’s to Wulf and Patten, then order a drink in the lobby bar.

Done for the night, I crash on Kelly’s couch, my pistol on the floor beside me.

In the morning, I rise to the scent of coffee. O’Malley’s green eyes lock onto me, sharp as a sniper’s aim. “Yo, Wildlife, want to tell me where you went yesterday evening?”

Busted.

My gut tightens at the distrust in her gaze.

“Babe.” Rubbing my eyes, I stand, swivel my feet toward my weapon and open my arms.

She crosses hers. “No, Hunt. No babe.”

Shit. If I want this relationship to move forward, I’m going to have to tell her the truth. “Bourdin was in the woods last night, leading a group of Iranians from Canada. They’re staying at The Alpine Luxe Resort.”

I step in , praying I haven’t fucked things up.

Her brows furrow more. “Why didn’t you bring me? I’m the border agent, not you.”

She’s right, and yet, oh so wrong. “You told me you haven’t been in the field since your attack. I couldn’t risk it.”

A gasp escapes from her lungs.

Have I overstepped? Dammit, I’m in uncharted territory. I was looking forward to another round of love-making. Instead, an angry stranger stands in front of me.

Tone all business, she paces her living room. “What are we thinking? Fentanyl? Sex slaves? Have you seen any girls?”

Trying not to let her see me bleed inside, I match her tenor. “No, mostly middle-aged men. Black hair, brown skin, bearded. Spoke Farsi. One had a signet ring. I sent jpgs to the FBI and another group I trust.”

She glances at her phone, then rolls her eyes. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. Can you bring me to work?”

“About last night…” I want to tell her how everything changed in her arms, but she gives me a cold shoulder.

“Later.”

I drive her to the station in one of the most uncomfortable silences I have ever experienced. I half expect her to lock me out.

Unable to broach her emotional wall, I park in a chair, lift my feet, and close my eyes. Sometime around noon, her ringtone startles me awake.

“Hello… Yup.” Face pale, she sits, listening intently. A few minutes go by before she sighs, massaging her temples. “Thanks for letting me know. Buh-bye.”

Cell phone down, she turns to me, face soft, perhaps a bit apologetic. “That was Ames. My brake line exploded. The control box had been tampered with, and they found traces of C4 near the gas tank. Thank you, again, for saving my life.”

“Please don’t. The FBI brought this to your doorstep.” Gaze locked on hers, I walk to her side, hoping she’s not still mad at me.

My heart pounds when she meets me halfway. “This problem existed long before you came. You can’t hold yourself responsible, Wildlife.”

With her back in my arms, the despair from earlier melts away. She’s giving me another chance. This time, I won’t fuck it up.

Her phone rings again. After she picks up, she stiffens and pulls from my embrace. “What? Say again… No way… How bad is it?”

Her eyes water. “That’s impossible…. No. I shut the damper. I am not an idiot, Bob. This was arson, clear and simple. Well, do your freakin’ job. You find them. I’m not kidding around here. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Yup… No, I’m sorry. Bye.”

In answer to my raised brows, she starts to sob. “My chimney caught on fire.”

She buries her face in her hands once she sinks into her desk chair. “I can’t do this, Hunt. It’s too much.”

While I reach for her, she slams a fist on the wood. “I am so fucking tired of this crap. I clean my fireplace every year. I have it inspected. There is no way I had any creosote. That’s bull.”

The urge to fix this is so overwhelming that I literally bite my tongue. This capable woman has reached a crossroads. It’s up to her to decide who she wants to be moving forward.

I will support her each step of the way.