Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Damn, she looked so…still. So, pale. Like death. And yet, she’d managed to get out of the bed—head for the door. And Ice had been right. She’d grabbed the belt as a means of defense. A weapon.
Colt sighed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she’d planned on doing with it.
If she really had thought about strangling them, or had simply been hoping to disarm anyone she encountered.
If she even remembered where she was. Who had come to her aid.
Not that she would have been able to inflict much damage in her condition.
But the fact she’d thought it through—had taken steps to guard her safety.
Arm herself… Ice had been right about that, too. She’d changed.
Of course, if she didn’t allow her body to heal, she’d end up in the hospital.
Exactly where Colt didn’t want her because he couldn’t guarantee her safety, there.
Couldn’t vet every doctor, nurse or orderly who ventured into the room.
Couldn’t be confident she wouldn’t be drugged or taken hostage, again.
No, Ellis Baker was going to stay right where she was—with him and his team.
He would have loved to have said in his bed, but…
He wasn’t a dreamer. Prided himself in having his feet firmly in reality.
And Ellis in his life in any capacity other than as an unlikely visitor—possibly a security case—didn’t exist. Which was for the best. He’d made a vow to keep his life simple, and Ellis was the exact opposite of that.
Not that his heart hadn’t freaking jumped for joy at the sight of her.
And once he’d realized she wasn’t going to outright die in his arms, that same heart had started racing—making plans until he’d crushed them.
Re-read the letter—the few scarce lines—she’d left just to keep himself grounded.
To remind himself of his rule. Why he should remain distant—that she’d dumped his ass.
He’d see to her safety, sure. But anything else…
He sighed. He didn’t know why he still had the damn note.
Had kept it all these years. A symbol, he supposed.
Of why he didn’t get emotionally involved.
Why he didn’t let his heart do exactly what it wanted to do with Ellis—hope.
He’d excelled at focusing on the mission.
So, he’d just treat this like any other he’d had.
Cannon grunted. “Colt. Stop.”
He glanced at his buddy. Cannon had just returned from the hospital.
Two hours later, and more than a bit agitated, but with good news.
Jericho had finally convinced the administrator to cooperate—donate a single room to a non-existent Jane Doe, all under the premise of Witness Security.
Which had also required a call to Art Collins, her boss.
But, the man was trustworthy and willing to give Jericho the benefit of the doubt until she could fully explain.
Colt didn’t know if the ruse would buy them any time, but it was better than nothing.
“Stop what?”
“I know that look. You’re running through all the reasons why you need to keep Ellis at arm’s length. Why this is nothing more than another op, when we both know that’s a load of crap.”
“It’s not a load of crap, and it is just another op.”
“Right, because I have to talk you down from the ledge with every case we take. Glad we cleared that up.”
Colt huffed, twisting to face Cannon. “Wanting to exact a bit of revenge on the men who hurt the woman I used to love is understandable.”
“Used to love? That’s what you’re telling yourself? Because we both know you never got over her. And before you lie some more to my face, you should know… You’ve got a tell.”
“I don’t have a fucking tell, jackass.”
“Right. And the corner of Jericho’s mouth doesn’t twitch ever so slightly when she’s hiding something.”
Shit. Jericho’s mouth did do that. It was subtle. Very subtle, but Colt had noticed it, too. Which meant, the bastard wasn’t lying.
A hand on his shoulder as Cannon shuffled a bit closer.
“Look, all I’m saying is…there’s obviously a lot that happened back then we aren’t aware of.
Because there’s no way she’s only been an operative for a year or two.
In fact, I’m starting to wonder if she was always one—one of those plants we all heard about.
Gathering intel on Special Forces. Maybe providing names of people they should consider recruiting for their clandestine services—because getting out of bed—grabbing that belt, not to mention wrapping her feet earlier…
” He whistled. “The girl’s got some moves.
And they weren’t learned as an MI and definitely not overnight. ”
“She wasn’t an operative while we were together.
” Colt held up his hand. “Trust me. I would have known. But, you’re right.
She has some serious skills. Probably would have made it out of the room if we hadn’t come back, though, I’m glad she didn’t.
She would have tumbled down the stairs and broken her damn neck. ”
“Not that you’re concerned or anything. Want that neck kept in one piece.”
“Fuck off. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“You’ve got it bad for that girl, buddy. But… Go ahead. Keep pretending. I’ll enjoy watching you eat crow, later.”
Cannon chuckled then settled back, seemingly content to sit in silence. Stare at Ellis as if she might disappear. Or was it only Colt who was looking at her like that? Questioning if this was all just an elaborate dream, and he’d wake up any minute, cursing?
A quick pinch to his arm assured him he was awake.
That Fate had done her best to screw him over, again.
Or maybe she hadn’t finished with him from the last time Ellis had been part of his life.
Maybe this was just a continuation of the hurt she’d inflicted before.
It didn’t help that Cannon was right. Colt hadn’t gotten over her.
Hadn’t come close, and lying to himself—saying he wasn’t still in love with her—wouldn’t change the situation. Make it any more bearable.
Not that he’d give in and admit it. He wasn’t a quitter, and admitting he still had feelings for Ellis Baker—the woman who’d crushed his heart so bad it was still bleeding out with every painful beat—seemed like a dangerous road to venture down with Ellis sleeping in his bed.
The door slivered open. Six peeked inside before entering, followed by Midnight and Rigs—his and his partner’s dog, Blade, trailing beside him.
At least, Colt had great backup. He’d been thrilled when the other men had agreed to relocate back to Seattle—that their partners had worked to rekindle old ties or start new ventures to make it possible.
Harlequin could barely keep up with her photography company, and being in Seattle meant a lot less travel time for her and Ice.
Midnight’s wife, Bridgette, had opened a new legal clinic for abused women in town, and Addison had joined the bomb squad of her old precinct.
Sure, they’d still help out Rourke “Bishop” Kincaid and his team in Blackpine — whatever and whenever the other man needed them.
All it would take was one phone call, an SOS text.
Hell, a damn smoke signal would suffice—but it felt good to have brothers he trusted nearby—watching his back.
Helping keep Ellis safe, because if her arrival was any indication of the kind of people she had after her, Colt knew they wouldn’t stop until they’d either been eliminated or gotten her back.
Over his dead body. Bastards wouldn’t put another scratch on her smooth skin.
Not as long as he was breathing. He didn’t care if she was trained.
If she was a CIA analyst or a field operative.
If she could have taken them all down with that old leather belt.
He’d sworn an oath to protect his country—those he cared about—and Ellis’ name was at the top of the list. Always would be, regardless of their relationship—their lack of one.
Because like it or not, Colt still loved her.
Still felt the loss from when she’d left, and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d choose to feel that loss, again, over her death.
And there was the fact that he’d once promised to protect her.
Colt didn’t back out on his promises. Didn’t turn away.
If anything, he was loyal to a fault, but he could live with that, even if it meant sucking it up, steering into the hard.
And having Ellis in his life without being in his life was going to be the hardest damn thing he’d ever faced, that screwed-up mission in Somalia, included.
Six stopped at the end of the bed, glancing from Ellis over to them. “How is she?”
Cannon snorted. “Other than trying to stumble her way out of here? Armed with a damn belt to boot? She seems to be resting, now.”
“She tried to leave? And did you say she’d armed herself with a belt?” Six whistled. “Damn, Colt. You always could pick ‘em. As I recall, she was pretty feisty back then.”
Colt sighed. “Except, now, she also has the physical skills—not just the brains. You should have seen her. Standing here, barely conscious, yet, looking as if she’d take us all on. Pulled out a couple of stitches in the process.”
Six grimaced. “How’d the big guy take that?”
“I don’t think I want to repeat what Ice said he’d do to us if we allowed her to pull out any more. For a guy whose nickname is Ice, he sure does get fired up over his patients.”
Cannon nodded. “But, seeing as he’s saved all of us at least once, he’s allowed. You guys have any luck tracking where she’d been stashed?”
Six grunted. “Let’s just say her injuries made it pretty damn easy. Even if we hadn’t had Blade along, the trail was disturbingly clear.”
A loud ringing sounded in Colt’s ears as he stared at Six. “Her blood.”