Page 59 of Secret Mission

“He should.” A man walks into the room, his stern gaze going to our joined hands. “He just got out of the hospital for a serious infection.”

My eyes zip to Truck’s, worry tripling the rate of my pulse and making my stomach sink. “You didn’t tell me anything about that!”

He gives a tight shake of his head. “It was irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant, my ass. How’s your leg?” the man asks.

“Fine, the wound is totally healed, and the limp is almost gone now.” Truck shifts, folding my hand tighter inside his. “Ally, this is Beast, our team lead.”

He’s vaguely familiar from the day I went to talk to them at the cave. “I’m Allison, nice to meet you.”

A manilla file flops onto the table.

He studies me for a second, dark, intelligent gaze sliding over my features as I look between him and the file.

“I know who you are. Glad you’re safe. Just so you know, I have not reported anything to your father.”

I exhale my relief as my fingers flex on the coffee mug. “Thank you. I’m actually wondering if he’s my father at all after what those men said.”

Truck leans forward, his face turning harder. “What are you talking about?”

“One of the attackers said I’m not the man’s daughter, but that was before you arrived.”

When tears start to brim my lashes, Truck groans in frustration.

He casts an angry glance at the man he called Beast. “I told her we don’t have to talk about this now. She’s been through hell.”

“I understand, but the sooner, the better.” Beast opens the folder, his expression unreadable. “I’d like to know who the men are that we have locked up, and overall what we’re dealing with here.”

That’s the question of a lifetime for me. Years of pain and uncertainty could be unraveled by what we find.

My whole life feels like one giant lie.

When I sip the green tea, the mug shakes against my lip, but I force the warm liquid down. It’s critical that I rebuild my strength for whatever’s coming.

“Let’s get on with this.” I straighten in my chair. “The one in the blue shirt is Thomas. He works for my father.”

Beast makes a note on the inside of the folder then turns to a page containing an image of Thomas’s passport. Then he looks at me again. “What does he do for your father?”

“Dirty work, I guess. It was always a mystery.” I quickly reply. “Things they don’t talk about to anyone. I figured my father would send him for me. But I thought he’d just walk up and ask me to go back. Nothing like what happened. And never in all of my years would I have imagined my father would use those SWAT-looking guys.”

Sipping more tea, I moisten my ragged vocal cords before I can continue. “I’ve been hearing for weeks that a group of men were searching for me. I thought that was your company in addition to Thomas. I didn’t know he’d use mercenaries or whatever they are.”

Truck asks, “Have you seen any of those men before?”

“I’m not sure, since they were wearing masks, but I didn’t recognize their voices.”

Beast makes another note before he pulls out his phone and sends a text. “We’ll get photos for you to look at later.”

Justice strolls into the room, quickly assessing the three of us. Everything about him looks refreshed. The clothes are clean. The scent of soap with some kind of warm spice precedes him. Dark and damp, his hair is unruly.

Justice is incredibly likable. The man’s got magnetic eyes. Bright, clever, playful, cunning—all the electric emotions. Life force emanates from him like he’s glowing from the inside out.

“Allison,” he says with a polite nod. “Well, I gotta say, I’m happy as hell to be back here.”

Glancing between us, he takes a seat at the table, continuing to beam his bright grin at everyone. “Truck, did you make me some tea? I’m parched after hunting for your ass for hours.”

“Fuck off. Make it yourself,” Truck rumbles.