Page 135 of Secret Mission

“You’re just annoying the injured guy. Maybe you should leave. I’ll call the real nurse in here, she probably won’t give me any lip.”

Snickering, he grabs another cup off the counter behind him. “I don’t know. You haven’t been a good patient.”

“Like I'll believe anything you said.”

“Ask her about you pulling your catheter out and why they tied you down.”

“Oh, fuck.”

The door swings open. Beast and the big boss, Marshall, stride in, assessing the room in a way only operators do.

“Man, it’s good to see you, but Jesus…” The relief in Beast’s expression is a sharp reminder that I must look like shit and I’ve given everyone a scare.

“Same.” I clear my throat from days-worth of rust. “Thanks for coming.”

Marshall taps the foot of the bed. “Now that you’re awake, we can catch you up on Daddy Westerly. Unless you want us to save it ‘til tomorrow.”

“No, let’s get this wrapped so Allison can be free of whatever the hell is going on.”

Marshall and Beast look at each other.

Beast comes around to the side of the bed and leans against the counter. “About that… Westerly’s plane didn’t land that day. Unfortunately, we lost track of them.”

“How? That’s impossible.”

“That’s what we’ve been saying.”

Justice’s expression darkens as he folds his arms. “The other problem is the yacht is on the move. Sometime after the storm abated, it left the harbor and has been moving along the coast. We haven’t had time to board it to look for anything.”

Closing my eyes, I try to reach for calm. It escapes me, making my bone marrow crackle with heat. “So, we don’t know what he’s up to. Allison is still in danger.”

Marshall lifts a shoulder. “Can’t say for sure, but you won’t have to worry about that. I’m sending you and Allison to the cave bunker?—”

“Resort, you mean?” Justice shakes his head as he chuckles.

Beast says, “It’s a really nice cave.”

“It’s a five-star hotel,” Justice adds.

Marshall chuckles, looking pleased. “It was. Now it’s ours.”

I shake my head, then regret it when my brain protests.

Something’s still not quite right, but I did just wake up. “Are you serious? We can go to this bunker-hotel-thing and lay low?”

With a gigantic hand, Marshall grips my shoulder. “That’s what it’s for. Family. Keeping the people we love safe.”

It becomes impossible to swallow.

Justice, as usual, capitalizes on the opportunity to make a joke. “You’re leaking. I thought you puked all the saltwater up.”

“Don’t you have a factory to break into?”

“Rude, man. And I was taking care of your ass.”

Another figure strolls in the door, and I get another lump in my throat.

Axle.