Blade (The Alpha Elite #11)

Chapter Seventy-Two

Blade

T o an untrained eye, he wasn’t visible, but I saw the motherfucker standing in the dark the same way an animal scents its prey.

Pulling in front of the main house, I threw my truck in Park and got out.

Delta stepped away from the northwest corner of the cabin. “You’re early. Problem?”

A fucking host of them in my head. “No. Why are you outside?”

“She’s asleep.”

“Bullshit.” The woman didn’t sleep. She fucking texted. All night. Except she hadn’t texted me once.

“Lying would serve no purpose here.”

Christ . “She can’t sleep for shit. But I leave her with you for ten hours, and she’s sacked out?” I didn’t know if I was jealous, pissed off, or just wanted to bed down with the woman. “You get her to eat?”

She’d needed fuel, but I was selfishly more concerned with the why of it. Her not eating—that shit had been purposeful, and Delta saw inside people’s heads. If he’d gotten food in her, I wanted to know.

“Some. You’ll have to work with her on that.”

I wasn’t working on shit. She could have her issues. “As long as she ate. She have any other problems?”

“Like?”

Fuck if I knew. I asked the obvious. “Addictions?”

“Only to fear.”

Shit. “Who the hell doesn’t?”

“Most people.”

I threw the omniscient fucker a look.

“Outside our world,” he amended.

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Besides her needing someone who can handle her proclivities?” Delta scanned the grounds. “She has mild altitude sickness, and she’s in the loft.”

I wasn’t having a fucking conversation with him about her proclivities . “Why the hell is she upstairs?” Bedrooms were on the main level. If Delta had fucking scared her, so help me, I was pulling the trigger.

“She retreated.” He glanced toward the river.

Out of patience, I wanted to pound the motherfucker’s face in. “Because?”

Delta looked back at me. “It happened after she saw the groceries you brought. What do you want with her?”

She fucking retreated from groceries? “Now you’re asking?” He hadn’t bothered when I’d called him for babysitting duty.

“Now I’m asking.”

“What the fuck do you care?” Short answer was, he didn’t. But this was what Delta did. He put shit together. Always ten steps ahead, looking at the optics, analyzing shit, he was a Mach ten mastermind—when it served his agenda. All the other times, he was a ruthless dominant who bent people to his will. The latter was what had me wanting to pull the trigger.

He countered my question with one of his. “What do you know about her?”

“What the fuck do you know?” Now I was seriously pissed.

“Her name.”

“Because I told you.” He’d needed to know in case I didn’t come back.

“Because I ran facial rec, same as you.”

I wasn’t not expecting Delta to do his own recon. Her name drop was intentional on my part. Alpha already had the deal in place. She was safe for now, but I was still fucking mad. “Get to the point.”

“Why is she here?”

“Locked-down location while I handled shit.” And set her up to take back control of her life.

Delta looked past me. “You’re not in love with her.”

I refrained from punching him only because he’d anticipate it. “You were still on my short list of tolerable assholes.” Now he wasn’t. “This isn’t a conversation about me.”

Delta ignored my comment. “If you aren’t currently sexually involved or have an emotional tie, then you need something from her. Is she connected to Church?”

Exhaling, I reminded myself that this was why I’d called him and not Whiskey. I respected every brother I’d served with. They were warriors. All had their shit they excelled at. Whiskey killed. I excelled at not being seen. Delta saw everything.

“She has a missing friend that might be connected to Church,” I admitted. “The woman disappeared same time as Church.”

“You don’t think Church is dead.”

I fucking asked. “Do you?”

Delta scanned the whole damn property. “I think there are considerable factors.” He looked pointedly at me. “You waited two years to ask me this. Why?”

“If he was intentionally taken off the grid, questions are dangerous.” Delta knew that. I’d been judicious with my inquiries.

The fucker frowned, but I knew it was for effect. It was one of his tells. “You think Church was recruited, and you’re asking now because you’ve been recruited.”

“I haven’t been recruited to shit.”

“Ground Branch?”

“Do I fucking look like Ghost?”

“Ghost isn’t SAC or CIA. Never was.”

“No shit.” We all knew how that recruitment cluster turned out.

“Who approached you?”

I lied. “No one.”

“But you’re asking me now as you track down and pull on a two-year-old thread.”

“Church,” I reminded, steering us back to the only topic I wanted to discuss with him. “Dead or alive?”

“Yes.”

Fucking Christ . “Meaning?”

“Both. Purposely dead, then recruited. Most likely by the same person who contacted you.”

“I didn’t say anyone contacted me.”

Delta eyed me. “Doesn’t read that way.”

“Read it any fucking way you want.” I turned toward the front door. “I’m grabbing her. You still got a jet on the apron at Bozeman?”

“Affirmative.”

“I need a drop-off in Detroit on your way back to Miami. Give me ten, and we’ll hit the road.”

“You’re leaving your Conquest?”

“Yeah. The G650s are faster.” I reached for the door.

“The timing’s off.”

I glanced back.

“It’s been two years,” Delta stated like it was the fucking solution, not the problem.

“Your point?”

“There’s a reason.”

Yeah. A random text from a brunette that was all tits, ass, and attitude. Crossed wires or purposely misdirected—I didn’t know. But I was going to find out.

“Ten minutes.” I strode into the cabin and hit the stairs.