Page 107 of Lethal Threat

Cade grunts. “Neither do I. Look, I can’t get there right now, but I’ll see if I can figure out someone who can go.”

“I’m coming, man. I just hope it’s fast enough.”

Cade disconnects when he has to get back to work. I drop my head into my hands as my gut twists itself into a knot that’s never going to unwind. “There’s trouble. But I can’t tell you what.”

Roark, a former SEAL on the Agile team, approachesthe table. His shadow casts the whole damn thing in darkness as his mammoth shoulders block out the lights. “I have some questions.”

Marshall nods to the other chair. “Roark’s got a sixth sense for finding things the rest of us miss.”

I don’t know the SEAL well yet, but he seems solid. And if Marshall recruited him, I know he’s a force to be reckoned with.

I clench the arm of the chair. “Fire away.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

SIERRA

My apartment is eerily quiet when I rush inside. Papers are scattered on the kitchen counter. The closets are open. Little items have been moved. Drawers stand open with their contents pulled out.

I grab what I need as I run through. Shoes. Coat. Change of clothes. Headlamp. Then I realize I should try to disguise myself, so I go back and get a baseball cap and sunglasses for what that’s worth.

Stuffing everything into my backpack, I head for the door. My insides feel like ice as I rush out into the night. I take off on foot, knowing that moving my car is a no-go.

People like the men I saw could easily have bugged my car.

The first hints of daylight are changing the sky to gray-blue as I climb the stairs to Captain Rachel Reed’s apartment. I knock lightly, hoping not to draw too much attention.

A whisper of movement on the other side of the door tells me she’s looking through the peep-hole. “It’s me. Sierra.”

The door swings open. For a second, her mouth gapes, then her eyes harden. “Oh my lord, are you okay?”

I nod. “Can I come in?”

She grabs my hand and pulls me inside. “Of course.”

Rachel’s obviously been up a while, she’s in workout gear with a sheen of sweat on her forehead. “I heard about your accident, about your amnesia. I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me right now.”

“I’m here.”

Before I realize what she’s doing, she’s hugging me. It surprises me. We’ve been friendly, but we’ve never been close.

“I just had to do that. You look like you’re about to break. Sit down. Tell me what I can do to help.”

For a second, I just stand shocked and worried, then I stiffly move to her couch. I pray I didn’t just bring trouble to Rachel’s door.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, physically, but I’m here because I’m in a bit of a crisis.”

She lowers herself slowly into the chair in front of me. “How can I help?”

“Can I borrow your car or can you rent one for me for a couple of days?”

She blinks, drawing her brows together. “Uh, sure. But I think you should tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m concerned someone might track my purchases and I know I’ll need to use my credit card to get a car.”

Rachel’s sharp as a fresh razor blade, so she sees things others might not. “Are you in an abusive relationship?”