Chapter Seventy-Five
Blade
S he looked down at the photo I’d swiped.
Horror hit her face, and she started to shake. “Where did you get that?”
“Your house.”
“I don’t have a house.”
Yeah, she fucking did. “Georgia Lynn Lyons.” I rattled off the address. “Deeded to you in trust seven years ago after your old man, Elliot Lyons, died.”
“He… he wasn’t my father.”
She passed the test. “No, he wasn’t. He was your grandfather. Your old man was Army. 10th Mountain Division, Operation Iraqi Freedom. We called them the Tenth Legion when they were deployed in Afghanistan. James Lyon, 1st Battalion, 87th Infantry, took enemy fire in Operation Anaconda in the Shah-i-Kot Valley. He died in theater. His father, your grandfather, raised you. Until you were seventeen.”
Staring at the photo of her, her old man, and her grandfather in front of the house in Detroit, she whispered, “Then he died.”
And a fucking drug runner moved in on her. “What happened?” I was busy carving the shit out of the fucker, not asking questions.
“How long have you known my real name?”
Long enough to get her outed and shot at. “Couple days.”
She looked up. Eyes wet, holding on to fear, the rest of her expression was a fucking ticking bomb. “I really was the target at Del Cielo’s.”
I didn’t say shit.
Her face fell. “Oh my God, oh my God. Del Cielo’s was my fault .”
“You didn’t pull the trigger.” I owned my part in exposing her. Shit was almost handled. I wasn’t going to apologize for getting her to a place where she wasn’t hunted, but fuck if the way it went down wasn’t playing on me.
“You didn’t tell me you knew,” she accused.
“You didn’t tell me shit.” I’d led her to water. I’d left openings. She’d heard me when I’d told November target secure . She saw my capabilities.
She hugged herself tighter. “You still didn’t tell me.”
I owned it. “At the time, it was safer not to.” A hysterical woman would’ve been harder to extract.
“Safer how? Hailey could’ve been killed. Everyone in there could’ve been killed, and it was my fault. I never should’ve kept going there. Oh my God .” She started kicking the comforter. “I need to leave. I need to get out of here. Get the covers off me. Get them off .”
“Hey.” I gripped her neck and tipped her head up. “Take a breath.”
“You take a breath!” The picture still in her hand, she hit my chest. “What did you do? What did you do? ”
“I got your house back.” And left her a fucking present in the basement.
She fucking froze. “You what?”
“I removed that piece-of-shit drug runner from your equation, and I’m taking you to your house. One condition.”
“I can’t ever go back there.” Her voice hit subsonic. “ He’ll kill me .”
I kept my tone even as fuck. Then I made sure there was no ambiguity. “Not if you kill Henry Ashland first.”
Eyes wide, the woman blinked.
“That’s the proposition,” I added.
“You want me to….” Trailing off, her raspy voice broke.
“I want you to have control.” And a fucking choice for once.
“And then what? Be killed? Because I—” She shook her head. “No. No .”
I gave her my word. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise.”
“Yes, it will. You don’t know what you’re talking about or what you’ve done. If I go back there, I’m as good as dead. No one crosses the…. Oh my God . NO. Just no .”
“No one’s going to touch you, woman. That’s a fucking promise. I know you don’t trust, but on this, you’re gonna have to. I told you before, I’d never unnecessarily risk your life. I keep my fucking word. Without fail. So hear me when I tell you I know what the fuck I’m doing.”
But I wasn’t a goddamn idiot. I knew every word I threw at her right now was just that. Words. This woman needed to see my actions. She needed to see she was safe. Which was why I was letting it play out like this, but fuck if it didn’t feel wrong right now.
“Blade—”
“Hear me out, woman.” I gave her the parameters. “You want to play this by the book, fine. We’ll do it legally. But if you want to end that motherfucker who hurt you, now’s your chance. Either way, I fucking guarantee he will never touch you again.” I stood and pulled her up.
So goddamn short, her head not even touching the sloped ceiling above the bed alcove, she started to shake. “How did…? You can’t…. This isn’t…. Oh my God. You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.” I aimed to distract her. “You questioning my abilities?”
“No, but this is… this is…. Oh my God .” She covered her face with her hands before inhaling and looking back up at me. “I don’t know what you know, or what you think you know, or what you did, but you can’t just remove him and have everything be okay.”
“A deal was made. You’re safe. That’s all you need to know right now. Let’s go. Delta’s got a jet on the ground at Bozeman. He’ll drop us in Detroit.”
Her entire fucking expression popped off with fear. “I can’t go back there!”
I didn’t tell her a fucking clock was ticking. “We need to move out. I’m not doing a full debrief right now, but shit’s handled. I know the players. I know the game. Score’s even. You’re done looking over your shoulder. That shit’s over as of six hours ago. You want more intel—assuming it’s something I can safely download—it’s gonna happen en route. Let’s go.” I took her arm.
“You said proposition. What do you get out of this?”
My jaw ticked. My conscience kicked at my gut, and I had to fucking force myself to say the goddamn words. “Everything you know about Reena.”
This wasn’t about Church.
It hadn’t been since I’d walked into that house in Little Havana two years ago with a young-as-fuck brunette who’d told me she wasn’t into names.