Page 95 of Nowhere to Hide

“Every other day.”

“Fine.”

“Good. Gear up before you leave. I don’t want you flying—or floating—blind out there. You have help here, fucking use it. For her sake if nothing else.”

I nodded. “Can I go now?”

He sighed. “Yes. And for fuck’s sake get that animal off your damn face.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with my beard?”

“That’s not a beard, it’s a crime.”

I huffed out a half laugh. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

I crossed the carpet to the archway leading to the elevators.

“Locke?”

I paused at the threshold.

“Quit punishing yourself.”

I didn’t look back, just kept on walking.

It was my fault and there was no penance in the world that would make up for it.

Since Jackson had eyes on Priscilla, I took the elevator down to Mason’s domain. He was the head of our tech branch and had all the toys as well as the arsenal. Leo was right about one thing—I needed gear to protect her.

When the doors opened, the soaring vocals of Bad Company thundered around the vast space. Mason Kendrick was barely thirty-five, but his musical taste was firmly rooted in the ‘70s. He was hunched over his work bench with a soldering tool in hand and micro-goggles on his face.

I leaned against his table, waiting until he came up for air.

Mason’s focus was as legendary as his music taste. But it did mean that he could leave you hanging for a damn long time. It was my lucky day because he lifted the soldering tool, then peered at me through his ridiculous specs.

He quickly fumbled them off his face. “Locke?”

“Hey Mase.”

He got up, his stool clattering to the floor as he came around to meet me. I grunted as he dragged me in for a hard hug. “I’d almost given up on you coming back.”

I slapped him on the back. “I’m not back.”

He pushed me away. “Then what are you doing here?”

I gave him the quick rundown on my situation.

His eyes narrowed. “Okay. I think I have a few things that will help you out. You can check in at the armory first and I’ll meet you there.”

I nodded. My skin felt tight and my shoulders tense. I hadn’t been here since the week before Milligan had passed. He and Alyssa had a whirlwind romance, and he’d gone off to get married without telling any of us.

His reasoning?

He wanted to lock her down.

He’d fallen hard and fast—which was just like Jake. He never did anything in half measures. From the first days in the army, in the trenches of bootcamp, and finally in the Rangers with me—no one worked harder or fought more fiercely. He’d also been impulsive as hell.

Alyssa Rawlings had been a typical bodyguard case. At least that’s what we originally thought. The daughter of a billionaire, she was an easy target. Her father, Michael Rawlings, had hired us on to make sure she was safe during a tenuous merger. Our entire focus had been on that external surveillance, not on her ex-husband who had become unhinged at seeing Alyssa with Milligan.