Chapter 8 #2
“Yeah.” Cross pulled the satellite phone out of his pocket. “Gotta make a call.” He headed back into the shack.
Drew was already up, sitting at the small table with her own mug in hand, her legs curled under her, hair tied up haphazardly. She looked pale, despite the coffee, her expression unreadable. She glanced up when he came in, but remained silent.
He stepped into the bathroom for whatever privacy he could get.
“McGuire,” a gravelly voice answered after one ring.
“It’s me. Situation just escalated. I need you on standby.”
“The one with Tessa?”
“Yeah,” Cross confirmed.
“We talking guns blazing or just recon?”
“Recon for now.
“Shit,” McGuire muttered. “Alright, I’ll ping the team. We’re in the zone, half a day out.”
“Hold your position for now. I don’t want to lead this asshole to anyone else.”
“What asshole?” McGuire asked.
“Not sure just yet.” Cross wasn’t going to mention the Weasel until he absolutely had to. No point in crying wolf. He wanted solid proof the guy was here first.
“If you don’t know who this asshole is, then how can you be sure Tessa is the target?”
Cross’s gut tightened. He didn’t want to say the next words; however, he didn’t believe he had a choice. “Rodriguez crawled out of the woodwork and shot up my place last night. I have it on good authority that he not only has his guys working on it but that he’s hired out.”
“How good is your source?” McGuire demanded.
Cross hesitated. “It’s your sister. She’s here. She came to tell me that Rodriguez put a price on my head. Two hundred and fifty K. He put it out to the whole world.”
“Drew is with you?” McGuire growled.
“Yes.” He didn’t want to get into it. McGuire hadn’t loved the idea of Cross dating his sister in the first place, and liked it even less when Cross had broken her heart.
Drew being here with him did not help matters.
As far as Cross knew, she was still pissed with Savvy and McGuire for letting her think they were all dead after an op went sideways.
This was not going to help things on either side.
“You better fucking take care of her, Cross. You know what a wild card Drew is. If she gets it in her head to help you, then she’ll be a target right along with you. Get her out of there ASAP.”
“It’s too late. Rodriguez knows she’s with me.”
McGuire swore a string of curses. “We’re coming to you.”
“No,” Cross’s tone was commanding. “That only puts all of us in danger. Stay half a day out. I’ll call if I need you, and I promise I will die before I let anything happen to your sister.”
Cross disconnected, staring at the wall for a long beat.
His gut twisted. He didn’t regret helping Tessa—his old teammate’s little sister had been in real danger—but he hadn’t expected the fallout to look like this.
He hadn’t expected Tessa to be hung out to dry by the ATF for breaking the rules, although he suspected that that was more her doing than her boss’s.
Dane’s little sister was hard-headed, and Cross was pretty damn sure she’d crossed all kinds of lines to get Rodriguez.
He was also pretty sure she’d called him to get her out, rather than her bosses at the ATF, because she knew she’d be in a world of hurt when she did.
He hadn’t expected Drew to show up. That was like a two-by-four to the gut.
Last night’s kiss still lingered on his lips like a brand.
He ran a hand through his hair and muttered a curse.
Drew LaSalle. A goddamn storm in jeans. He couldn’t do this.
Not now. She stirred up things in him that had no place here.
Not with a contract killer on their trail.
Not with blood on the line. Despite his resolve, when he stepped back into the main room, his eyes went straight to her.
She looked at him over the rim of her cup. “Everything good?”
“Team’s standing by,” he said. “For now. Your brother says hello.”
She snorted. “Oh, I’m sure he said a helluva lot more than that…but whatever.”
“You still pissed at him and Savvy?” Cross asked.
“What do you think?” Drew snarled. “Might have been fucking nice to know that McGuire and you were alive. Come to think of it, I’m pissed at you, too. You could have said something. I mean, I know we were broken up, but hell… It’s not like I was going to tell anyone.”
Cross’s shoulders sagged as he leaned against the counter. “I would’ve told you if I could. We were too worried about blowback on our families and friends. We didn’t want to take the risk that any one of you could’ve gotten hurt. Surely you can understand that.”
Drew shrugged. “Oh, I understand alright. You guys and your little club. Always together and making decisions for the rest of the world without consulting us.” She looked away, shook her head, and then took another sip of her coffee.
Every line of her body said she was still pissed. “You still look pale,” Cross said.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? I can find a way to smuggle you out of here. You can hide out until all this is over.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know that’s an iffy plan at best. I’m fine where I am. McGuire and the guys will come if we need them. It will be okay.”
Cross wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. He held up both hands. “Just saying. You look like hell.”
She smirked. “You’re not exactly swimsuit-ready either.”
He chuckled despite himself. Damn her. Didn’t matter how hard he tried to deny it; she still got to him.
He turned to refill his coffee instead of answering.
He couldn’t do this. Not again. Not with her.
Not with the Weasel breathing down their necks.
He’d keep her safe. And then he’d walk away. For good.