CHAPTER TEN
WELLS
A ll I’ve been thinking about since we arrived in New Orleans is her—her tears, her father’s illness, Celeste’s and her mother’s absence, her love of books, and her hope for more.
Her infectious laugh and sassy tongue.
The way her eyes change from cerulean, to sapphire, to a tropical ocean blue, depending on the sun and her clothes and her mood.
The swell of her perky tits and the slight curve of her narrow hips.
That kiss and the invitation to have all of her.
Ivy.
And, fuck , the way she tastes and moves and whimpers.
Christ, I’m a fucking mess.
The need to shield her and prepare her for what’s to come should be my primary focus—my only goddamn focus. Instead, I was consumed with giving her everything I could for this one day.
That isn’t something we do for those under our protection.
We don’t concern ourselves with their emotions or losses.
Feelings are a luxury we don’t invest in—a sacrifice that keeps our clients alive.
That’s what makes us the best. Because we don’t make mistakes.
Tears don’t compel us to take unnecessary risks.
But hearing that she broke down broke something in me .
And I nearly lost her because of it.
Jesus, fuck, I almost lost her.
That thought wrecks me, and I hate it. I don’t recognize this version of myself—the one who is distracted and conflicted, who loses focus.
The one whose pulse is thundering—not because I’m hopped up on adrenaline, ready to gut an asshole for answers.
No. After leaving her sad and yearning and drugged, smelling of sex and summertime, I’m the one being gutted.
I’m not the man who gets fucked up from a girl.
Except I am. I’ve been changing the damn rules ever since I laid eyes on her nearly five years ago.
And I knew it then.
Three weeks—twenty-one days of learning her schedule, her every move, her mannerisms. She’s easy to watch. I’ve also been desperately trying to find out who else is after this almost-eighteen-year-old and why.
The rabbit holes in this case are deep and riddled with secrets that tunnel on through to the next.
A never-ending labyrinth. It’s why I’ve decided to meet with her father—a risk, alerting him to the danger, but the bloody corpse of the girl from a month ago haunts me.
I’m by no means a selfless hero, but I can’t turn this innocent girl over to be slaughtered. No matter the payoff.
I also won’t walk away.
In our ten months of erasing and tracking down those who have been “missing,” no case has been this convoluted or this lucrative. Completing this job is only the beginning for my team. I won’t let anyone fuck with that.
The secretary waves me back. It’s a highfalutin office building, far surpassing what most physicians boast, sleek and modern yet warm with a whiff of leather.
Priceless art embellishes the walls. Everything screams class and wealth.
I expected as much. Being one of the world’s most-sought-after neurosurgeons will do that. He’s put Ohio hospitals on the map .
She opens the door, allowing me to pass by her into his office. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathe the space in a bright golden glow.
As soon as his chin lifts, I smile.
“Dr. Kingston, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
He stands, walks around his desk, and holds out his hand for a firm shake while his eyes plant boldly on mine. “My pleasure, Mr. Wells.” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “Would you like a drink? Scotch?”
He opens a cabinet, showing he has several bottles of liquor to choose from.
I’ve always preferred scotch though, so I accept, and he pours us each a glass of Macallan 18 on the rocks, taking his seat across from me and waiting.
That small gesture—the confidence in merely eyeing me until I come out with my reasoning for seeking him out—instantly ignites my respect for him.
Swigging the Macallan, I’m impressed. It’s smoother than the scotch I’m accustomed to. “I’ll get right to it, Dr. Kingston. I’m here regarding your daughter.”
He sips his scotch with a subtle nod. “I see. Go on.”
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are various people searching for her.”
“I’m aware,” he says, giving nothing else away.
Interesting. I expected the man to be terrified with that admission and therefore cooperative to whatever I suggested. Instead, he’s unflappable, as if we were discussing her extracurricular activities, not the fact that she’s being actively pursued by hit men. Maybe I need a different approach.
“Are you aware of the reason?” I ask that in part because I’m not entirely sure. We were told one thing when given this assignment. The initial motive offered checked out, but it’s clear there’s more to it. That much was evident once the girl, Gemma, was killed.
He hums. “Are you , Mr. Wells?”
“Partially,” I admit. “We realize it goes deeper than what we’ve uncovered.
We are confident that we’re the only team to have her location at this time, and we don’t intend to bring any harm to her.
Our orders are to keep her safe and deliver her unscathed, but we came across another team who was hired to shoot to kill.
My research, thus far, shows they aren’t the only ones. ”
He drags his hand over his mouth. “I expected as much. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” His tone is dismissive, as though that concludes our meeting.
A disbelieving chuckle escapes me. This entire interaction is odd. “With all due respect, sir, I am not only bringing it to your attention. I have a job to do.”
“Of course you do.” His lips curl into a wry smirk. “But my daughter has been hunted for eighteen years. You don’t actually believe I’m simply going to hand her over to you?”
I suppose not, but he’s mistaken if he thinks he’s calling the shots here.
This isn’t a negotiation. It’s a courtesy—one my team wouldn’t agree with, but one I couldn’t seem to negate after observing the fascinating redhead for weeks.
You might say I’m mildly infatuated in spite of how young she is.
“May I ask why she’s being hunted and why you’re living in Ohio like a sitting duck?”
He leans forward, arms resting on the desk with an air of ease. “My wife and I wanted Ivanna to have the most normal upbringing possible. Running and looking over her shoulder was not the answer. It seems your mother may know something about that.”
My chest tightens. What in the fuck? “My mother?”
“After almost two decades of hiding my daughter in plain sight, it should be obvious I don’t lack resources.
Some might even say I have the best in the world.
When you scheduled your meeting with me, I conducted my own investigation on you.
It was challenging since you had poofed into existence yourself, but perseverance pays off. I know who your family is, Mr. Wells.”
My mother spent her entire adult life on the run, hiding from who she was after falling in love with my father—an “unsuitable” man who adored her. She was barely eighteen herself when they met. We moved at least ten times before they died when I was sixteen .
But the trail to that information is nonexistent. How the fuck did he find out?
I clear my throat, swishing the last sip of my drink around the glass. “I can certainly respect a man who both protects his family and goes to the lengths necessary to vet someone asking to meet with him. What exactlydo you know about my mother?”
“Your family and the reason my daughter is being hunted are linked. I think we may be able to help each other out.”
Fuck.
What the hell does that even mean? Who the fuck is this guy?
This isn’t how I intended this to go, and yet I’m intrigued.
“I didn’t come here to strike a deal, Dr. Kingston. I came as a courtesy, so you’d know your daughter is being extracted by a team who intends to keep her safe.”
Because my mother, who believed I shared similar cutthroat qualities with her family, made me promise that if I ever turned into a monster—like she believed her father was—I’d have a heart.
A monster with a heart—whatever the hell that means.
“Suit yourself,” he says, “but my daughter will be erased from existence before our meeting concludes, so the way I see it, we work together, trust each other, or we both lose.” His eyes aren’t smug with that statement; they hold something more like disappointment—the smallest glimpse of the world he’s been desperately trying to spin.
I reach for my phone, thinking I should check on our surveillance, but Dr. Kingston raises his hand.
“There’s nothing to see, son. She’s already gone. You work with me, and she returns.”
There’s a single text from Gage, confirming Dr. Kingston’s promise.
Big Guy: Lost the mark. She just fucking disappeared.
Motherfucker.
I’m used to being the one with the upper hand in my dealings, but I see now I have more to learn.
My fingers fist in my lap. “I’m listening. ”
“Your crew is far superior to the one I’ve had guarding Ivanna.
The incompetent morons didn’t even detect you until last week.
I’m guessing you’ve been around quite a bit longer.
” His jaw tenses with disdain. “I don’t want to uproot her, so I’ll need to strengthen her security.
I’d like you to stay close by and keep her hidden. ”
While he isn’t pleading, as I expected, and he’s certainly more thorough and prepared than I would have ever anticipated, this I saw coming—offering a deal.
“Why would I do that? It would be in direct opposition to my orders.”
“Perhaps. But I’m guessing there isn’t a time frame for your orders.
” There isn’t, but I don’t respond, so at my silence, he nods and continues, “There’s no time frame because they’ve been looking for eighteen years and they haven’t found her.
I have extensive information to provide you, which will drastically enhance your negotiating power when you finally do hand her over. ”