Page 49 of Maximus (Gold Team #4)

Declan Crenshaw unlocked the front door and stepped into Autumn’s tiny, two bedroom cottage, and knew.

He didn’t need to search her house to know she was gone. The air was different, it lacked the electricity he felt when she was near.

The hell of it was, he’d expected this even if she’d promised she wouldn’t leave.

Autumn Pierce had a mission and no one, not even him, could stop her from obliterating her prey.

But just because he knew didn’t mean it wasn’t a kick to the gut. A sharp and acute pain that caused the left side of his chest to ache.

Declan was well aware he never should’ve touched her, never should’ve gotten as close as he had. Thad would go ballistic, Emmy would be hurt her sister had been so close for months and she’d been kept in the dark. He’d disagreed but Autumn had insisted her presence be kept a secret.

Declan took his cell out of his pocket and started to dial Tex as he made his way into the kitchen.

Empty .

Just like everything else in his life—a vast canyon of nothingness.

A deep gorge that would never be filled.

Not that he deserved to be replete. Hell, the reprieve he’d found in her bed hadn’t been warranted either.

His only justification for the hours of bliss Autumn’s warm, soft body had provided was she’d taken what she needed from him.

Declan had never met anyone—woman or man, whose suffering had mirrored his own. Two broken souls who had no desire to be fixed. Autumn used her pain much like he used his—as a crutch to survive in a world where everyone else strived for love and happiness.

Fuck that. Once upon a time, Dec had it all. A beautiful wife who’d given him an equally beautiful daughter. But all of that was gone—torn from him in the worst way. And not a day went by, he didn’t remember it was his fault.

Dec stabbed his phone’s screen, irritation infiltrating his normal calm and calculating demeanor.

“Hey, Dec,” Tex answered. “I just sent the intel to Garrett.”

His eyes hit on a note left on the counter and annoyance grew.

They were too late.

“We got a problem,” Declan informed Tex.

“We always have a problem. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Autumn’s gone. She knew Madeleine Strotherby was going to Afghanistan for a photo op for that new girls’ school. She swore she wouldn’t go off halfcocked and by herself.”

“You think she went to Afghanistan?”

“Considering I’m staring at a goddamn note that reads: ‘Got a new source, headed over now. See ya’ in the sandbox. P.S. Don’t forget your sunscreen.’ I say yes, she’s left for Afghanistan.”

“What do you need from me?” Tex asked .

“Find her new source.”

“And you want me to do this how? Pull a name out of my ass? I need a little more than ‘source’.”

“I don’t know how you do what you do, I don’t pretend to know, I don’t pretend to understand the voodoo you work. All I know is you’ve never let us down and I need to know who got to my woman and why she took off. We had a plan and she bolted anyway.”

Tex’s heavy sigh wasn’t the reassurance Declan had been hoping for. Garrett could work on finding the source, he was good at gathering intel, but Tex was the best and if he was moaning his complaint, Declan was in deep shit.

“I’ll get you a name.”

Thank fuck.

“Appreciate it.”

“You know you’re gonna have to come clean.”

Christ, he’d known his days were limited but he thought he’d have more time.

“Yep. Zane’s my next call.”

“Good luck. And don’t worry about Autumn—she knows what she’s doing.”

That was what was worrying Declan. An off-the-chain Autumn could mean any number of things. Worst case she was on a suicide mission, best case she’d kill Madeline and skip home happily.

“Thanks, Tex.”

Declan disconnected the call and stared at his phone.

It was time—his day of reckoning had come.

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