Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
She’d said she didn’t care if they were seen, but that wasn’t exactly true.
Diana followed him down the long drive toward the two farmhouses that sat on the property where One Shot Tactical was located.
Alex went to the bigger of the two, parking beneath a massive oak tree that grew near one side of the house.
She parked beside him, glancing at the smaller house.
There was a light on inside, but no curtains twitched to indicate someone spying on Alex returning from a night out. Diana didn’t exactly expect anyone to storm onto the porch and demand to know why she was there, but she felt just about that unwelcome.
Daphne had been nice enough the last time Diana was at One Shot, when she’d been emotional over losing the investigation and certain Alex was at fault.
And though Diana had given it her all to protect Daphne—aka Josie—from the consequences of being an O’Malley, she wasn’t sure Daphne’s appreciation went so far as having Diana involved with Alex.
The men and their women were protective of each other. She admired it, wished she had it for herself.
But she didn’t.
Alex waited on the wide porch that led into the house. Diana walked up the steps, breathing in the cool night air, willing her pulse to slow down.
Looking at him spiked it into the danger zone. Not only because she was pissed he’d interfered, but because she was still thinking about the things he’d done to her just yesterday.
She’d slept ten hours afterward, waking this morning feeling refreshed and sore. But happier than she’d been in a long time. Which made no sense. Her job teetered on the brink—Don wouldn’t save her this time—and Viktor was about to walk away without consequences. Just like always.
But she’d been happy, dammit. Satisfied and happy.
And eager to do it again, no matter what she’d said to Alex when she’d intimated she might or might not be interested in a repeat.
She was definitely interested.
Alex stood with hands in pockets, watching her approach.
He was a moody, gorgeous bastard, and she wanted to climb him like a tree.
He’d worn dark wash jeans and a black henley tonight.
He looked like the devil himself, if the devil was handsome and sullen and had just a little silver at the temples.
Did the devil also have beautiful hands that made music on his lover’s skin?
If so, then Alex Bishop was definitely the devil.
He let them inside and locked the door behind him, then walked toward the back of the house. She followed, glimpsing beautiful hardwood floors and tall windows before emerging into the kitchen.
The kitchen was old, with white painted cabinets and Formica countertops.
It was a time capsule of taste from a century gone by.
She’d seen houses like this before, usually when she questioned people in rural areas.
There was something charming about a house built last century and untouched for so many decades.
Chintz curtains would have hung in the windows, braided rugs on the floor. It would have been a homey kind of place. She imagined kids with skinned knees, laughter, dogs, and love. It was sheer fantasy, not necessarily true, and she knew it.
But she’d grown up in a much less inviting space. There were Persian carpets and priceless antiques, most of it curated by a designer. She and her brothers were never allowed to sit on the furniture, upholstered in watered silk, when they were children. And running through the house, chasing a dog?
Her mother would have fainted.
“Beer? Water? Soda?” he asked, opening the fridge.
“Water, please.”
She’d only had one beer at the brewery, but she didn’t want another.
He took out a bottle and handed it to her. He twisted the cap on a bottle of his own and tilted it back. She did the same, wanting to wash away the taste of beer and the stink of treason they’d encountered in Brent Gannon’s notebook.
After carefully perusing it some more, she’d put it back where she’d found it. They’d made sure everything was in its place, looked in on Gannon to make sure he was still breathing, and locked up before heading back to Campus 805 to retrieve Alex’s truck.
She was irritated with him for interfering with her interrogation, but finding that notebook cemented a few things.
Gannon was definitely involved in whatever was planned, though to what extent was the question.
Not that she’d truly expected him to spill all, but she might have gotten a little more out of him before Alex meddled in her business.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be there tonight?” she asked when he still hadn’t said anything.
He was looking out the window, jaw set in a stubborn angle, like he was thinking about something he had no intention of sharing. She wanted to touch him, slide her palm down his arm, squeeze his hand.
Ridiculous.
One did not pet a man like this one. If you wanted to soothe him, you dragged his mouth to yours and spent a pleasurable couple of hours letting him have his way with you.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
“I gathered that. Why not?”
His gaze slid to hers, eyes sparking. “Because I’m not in the habit of discussing what I’m doing.”
“Not even with your team?”
“Not on this one, no.”
She sighed. “I get why you want to cut them out of it, but don’t you think they could help? At least in the background?”
He shook his head. “They need deniability. If this goes wrong and I get caught being a part of a group actively trying to overthrow the US Government, I don’t want them near it.”
“They already are,” she said softly. “You’re here together. They work with you. How will it not affect them?”
Temper flashed in his eyes. “It will affect them, but they won’t go to prison over it.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Not asking you to.”
She huffed. “Fine, then what are we doing about that notebook? Since we don’t know the something big, or the when, all we’ve got is circumstantial evidence that he knows more than your average bubba hanging around Big Mike’s.
Maybe you could get your guys to surveil him again without telling them what you’re doing? ”
“No need. I dropped a bug in his apartment. I’ll listen each night, see what I can pick up.”
She was only somewhat surprised. Not that he’d done it, but that he’d been prepared to do it. “Or you could ask your team to listen. Seth King is your IT expert. He could probably write a script to isolate keywords.”
“Know that, too, but this is how it’s going.”
“Fine. What if Gannon’s too pissed at us after tonight and we don’t get invited back to the next gathering?”
“I don’t think he’s in control of that. And he’s not going to the powers that be and explaining how he got drunk trying to seduce you, or that we took him home and poured him into bed so now he doesn’t like us anymore.
Makes him look like a liability. He won’t want that because liabilities have to be dealt with. ”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Okay, you’re probably right. Especially since he intends to lead their army. Won’t want to look incompetent to the higher ups.”
“Right. Not sure he wasn’t engaging in some wishful thinking with that army business though. But who knows?”
She thought back to last night when they’d talked about their reasons for being at the gathering. Before they’d ended up naked. “You said there was another reason you might not get invited back.”
He hadn’t told her what it was at the time because he’d said it wasn’t safe, but they were in his space now. It wasn’t a SCIF, but it was far more secure than her apartment. And if he wanted a SCIF, they had only to go the short distance up the hill to have access to one.
He shoved a hand through his hair. Such a sexy move. Made little sparks light in her belly. And lower.
“Our records were sealed when we left Washington. They were hacked and stolen a couple of months ago. Trey McCann was behind it, but he said there were powerful people who knew our names. Which means he passed the information, or he was intending to. No way to know which one. Or who he would have passed it to, except he did jobs for Dashevsky quite often.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Dashevsky’s people might know the truth of who I am, though not the mission.
That wasn’t in the record. They could let me into the group to keep an eye on me, or they could deny me.
They could also let me join so they can kill me when it’s convenient—after trying to torture information out of me, of course. ”
“Of course.”
Diana chewed her lip. She knew about Trey McCann because they’d had to send a bomb squad to a farmhouse before it detonated and scared people across three counties.
People in northern Alabama were used to explosions from Redstone Arsenal—rocket testing and ordnance—but a middle of the night fireball would have initiated hundreds of panicked calls to 911.
She hadn’t known that McCann had stolen the team’s records, though.
That certainly added a new level of uncertainty—not to mention danger—to joining the militia.
If the leaders knew his history, they’d be suspicious from the start.
Didn’t mean they wouldn’t let him in since they’d be able to keep a close eye on him, but they’d never let him know their real plans.
And they’d eliminate him if he learned anything he shouldn’t.
“If you’re thinking you’d rather not work with me on this, I wouldn’t blame you. Let me do it alone and I’ll keep you informed.”
Everything inside her rebelled at the idea of letting him go back without her.
“No, sorry, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily. If anything, you’re going to need backup.”
“Diana,” he said, his voice tight.
She held up a hand. “Not a fainting flower, Alex. And unless you decide to share this with your team, I’m all you’ve got. I won’t abandon you.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered, shaking his head.