Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“I don’t think Rory is in danger,” Jesse told his brother-in-law, Chris, who stood opposite him between A.J. and Griffin outside by the stables. “But there are no guarantees.” He thought back to what Thatcher shared about the target on the phone earlier. “The two Bulgarian agents that were killed had siblings. Parents. One agent had a son. So far, Zoran has only targeted the men and their wives.”
“But we can’t assume your parents or Rory are safe just because of that,” Griffin commented. “As far as I’m concerned, we should consider this entire town painted with a bullseye, especially with you here.”
Jesse’s stomach tightened at Griffin’s clipped words and the heavy punch they delivered. Griffin had to be worried about his fiancée as well. Savanna was one of Ella’s best friends, and she’d been to hell and back more than once. The last thing Jesse wanted was for her to get caught up in anything else. Not ever again. And for damn sure not because of him.
“The Agency doesn’t believe he’ll come after anyone else. Just myself and whoever I . . .” Care about. “But I don’t plan on staying here much longer. I need to track down Zoran.”
Before Jesse had joined Falcon, he’d never had a hand in putting together the target packages. Neither in the Army nor with the CIA. Tell him who to kill and where to find the mark, and he’d design the best method for the hit.
Everyone on the Falcon Falls team had a specialty, skill-wise, but the entire team was involved in every aspect of an operation, especially the prep work. And because of that, Jesse would hopefully be able to use those skills to locate Zoran himself. Well, with the help of his team.
“Natasha’s on maternity leave, so she won’t be able to help us at the Agency. But we can reach out to the director,” A.J. offered. “We, um, have a direct line of communication with the head of the CIA. We can trust him.”
This was news to Jesse. But he wasn’t all that surprised, considering A.J.’s team had been working covert jobs for the President for years. And for that very reason, Jesse was sure their intel regarding those operations came from so high up the chain it could have been God himself for all he knew. Well, at the very least, a level or two above Thatcher.
“I can’t guarantee the President will assign us to be the boots on the ground for this problem,” Chris commented. “We’re a few men down on my team, Echo. Babies and all. Plus, we’re still training new recruits for Charlie Team.” He looked at his watch. “And as of one hour ago, Bravo Team boarded a flight to . . .” He paused and eyed Jesse and Griffin since they weren’t in the “need to know” on whatever clandestine op Bravo was about to take part in. “Somewhere overseas.”
“Falcon can handle Zoran,” A.J. quickly said. “But as for Ella?—”
“Ella’s not staying here,” Jesse snapped, worried that A.J. was going to pull rank as Ella’s brother and insist on personally providing her protection.
“If she’s a mark, she paints as much of a bullseye on the town as does Jesse,” Griffin pointed out. “We need to talk to Carter, Gray, and the others. Get them working leads on this fucker as of yesterday. They should come here.”
“Make the call.” Jesse didn’t want to wait for A.J.’s opinion on the matter. They were losing time. And for all they knew, Zoran had a marksman watching them as they spoke.
Griffin nodded, phone to his ear already, and strode away to most likely make the call to one of their team leaders.
Chris stepped closer to Jesse, his expression darkening as it had when he’d first learned the news about Jesse’s previous line of work twenty minutes ago. “Do you really think Zoran intentionally waited for the Bulgarian agent to get hitched before he murdered him and his wife? Is Zoran that much of a patient psychopath that he’d wait it out?”
Jesse lifted his shoulders, not really sure what to say. It was speculation. But based on Zoran’s profile, it checked out.
“I find it hard to believe all we have to do is keep you single to prevent this guy from coming after you. That he’ll wait that long,” A.J. hissed.
“Based on Zoran’s history, he takes revenge seriously. And in the past, he waited months, even years, to exact retribution.” Jesse frowned. “I’m obviously not suggesting we wait around months or years for him to come after me. Or that we should consider Ella or anyone else safe because I’m single.”
“We’ll see what the rest of Falcon thinks.” A.J. motioned to Chris to head back toward the house. “But if you believe for one minute you’re going to take Ella anywhere with you,” he added, stabbing his index finger Jesse’s way, “that’s not happening.”
Jesse watched Chris and A.J. walk away, then lifted his chin and stared at the dark sky, trying to wrap his head around how this had all happened.
At the sound of footsteps approaching, he closed his eyes and let go of a deep breath, wondering who was going to give him the third degree this time.
“I need to know what’s going on. No bullshitting me, Jesse.” It was Ella coming in for the lecture. Well, for answers. “I need to know why my brother looked so spooked when he walked by me just now.”
Not yet prepared to look her in the eyes, Jesse slowly raked a hand through his hair.
Hell, he’d struggled to get the words out when he confessed to A.J., and that hadn’t gone very well. How was Ella going to react when he spit out that he’d been a hitman for the CIA?
A.J. hadn’t wanted him to say anything yet, but the truth had to come out.
Rip the Band-Aid off. Make it quick. “You’re in danger because of me,” he said as fast as possible. “Well, most likely. Because of my old job.” He swallowed. “Someone might target you to hurt me.”
“I . . .”
Jesse forced his focus to her face. Backlit by the nearby stable lights, Ella was surrounded by an ethereal glow, and her blonde hair appeared to float around her delicate heart-shaped face. She looked like an angel.
“I don’t understand. You’ve been out of the Army for a while.” She shook her head and took a small step closer, nearly within arm’s reach. “Why would someone use me to hurt you?”
“No, not because of the Army.” He did his best to keep his gaze steady with hers. “I, um, worked for the CIA after the Army. Taking assignments here and there over the years, but I’m out now.”
“CIA?” she whispered.
Could he leave out the hitman part? For now, maybe.
She looked toward the stables. “Are you for real?”
“I was forbidden to tell anyone. I’m sorry.” The excuse was legit, but it felt lame coming from his mouth.
“Okay, so a case you once worked for the CIA now has me in danger?” She spoke as if she were talking through her thoughts to truly comprehend them.
“The target of one of my old cases will most likely be coming for me. His wife died, but he managed to survive. And the CIA believes he’ll procure my identity and target you as payback.”
That had Ella’s attention, and she quickly took two steps away from him. “You killed this man’s wife?”
His stomach banded tight at the distance she placed between them. “No, but he thinks I did.”
“Why?” Her brows drew together as she waited for answers he wasn’t sure he knew how to provide.
“Because I was the one who shot him, and she was walking right alongside him. But there was a second shooter there to take her out, which wasn’t part of the plan. I took a clean shot. Only hit the guy. We couldn’t track down who killed her though.”
One deep breath later, she murmured, “You were sent to kill him. Like a . . .”
He nodded, saving her from having to say the word out loud.
She took another step back, and it may as well have been a mile.
“So the man didn’t die, but his wife did. And he’ll want me dead because of it,” Ella repeated as if trying to grasp the situation. “Why would the CIA think he’d pick me to target? We’re not together.”
Jesse looked up at the sky and searched for the moon, his breath floating in the chilled night air. “If this man does send someone to our town, there’s only one name people around here will say if asked who they think I . . .” His chest tightened, and he set a hand there. “He may not know my identity yet. Maybe never will. But he’s begun taking out those responsible for the shooting that day. And killing their wives as retribution.” He found her eyes again, discovering she was now a good six feet away. Too far for him to read her expression, but based on the distance, she didn’t want to be close to him. Probably ever again. He’d feared that if Ella knew the truth, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. It appeared his fears were justified.
But he didn’t have time to dissect how that made him feel. Not with her in danger.
“I can’t take the chance he won’t learn my name and come for you. I’ll do my best to find him first. Falcon will help. We’ll also have access to your brother’s connections. We won’t let anything happen to you.” His heart squeezed a bit tighter, but he ignored the gripping feeling in his chest and allowed his hand to fall like dead weight to his side.
“What does this mean for me? You’re not suggesting I put my life on hold because some madman out there may or may not come for us, are you?” she asked in a soft, almost tepid voice, which wasn’t the norm for her. “You can’t ask me to give up Paris because of your past. I—I won’t. Not without proof that this person knows your name. Knows my name.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead.
“Ella.” He had no clue what he’d say next, but he was afraid she was on the verge of taking off like she’d done on the horse earlier.
She lowered her hand and shook her head. “I’m going to Paris. My brother can assign someone from his security firm to protect me. But I’m not turning my back on this opportunity because someone maybe knows your name and will maybe come for me.” And there was that stubborn sass. She held both hands up. “Plus, I shouldn’t be here if there is a maybe chance I’m a danger to everyone around me. My niece and nephew. My students. Parents. All the more reason for me to go to Paris.”
“I don’t think you understand. Me not helping you isn’t up for discussion.” Regardless of what A.J. had said.
The idea of her running around Paris with one security guard was insane. Ella could hate him, but she wouldn’t die for him. And he’d put his foot down in that regard. He’d overrule her stubbornness, right along with A.J.’s
“I’m not waiting around in some safe house for some psychopath to maybe come find me.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“You can’t stay here, you’re right. But Paris is out of the question.”
Ella’s fluid movements toward him caught him by surprise, but he resisted snatching her wrists when she lifted both fists and set them to his chest as if prepared to strike, but as with her brother, the punches didn’t come. She just set them there, her stubborn jawline strained as she clearly struggled to deal with her emotions.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Sorry doesn’t come close to cutting it.” She sniffled and looked up at him, her hands still clenched against his chest while his arms hung awkwardly at his sides. He did his best not to hold her, to try and console her, because he knew that’d be the last thing she’d want. “You were a hitman for the CIA. And if anyone I care about dies because of what you did, I’ll kill you myself.”
“I know,” he said, and damn did the woman sound just like A.J.
Unable to stop himself, he reached up and gripped her elbows.
“You can’t keep me from going to Paris, Jesse.” Ella pulled free of his touch and dragged the backs of her hands across her cheeks. He’d expected punches, not tears. And he would have rather been hit than see her cry. “I won’t live in fear for weeks or months,” she said around a sniffle. “Or however long it takes this guy to maybe put two and two together that you shot him.”
“I might know a way to get you out of this mess, but I still don’t want you off in Europe with a psycho on the loose,” Jesse said when the thought struck him. “I’ll marry someone. Fake marry, I mean. Within the next week,” he added, talking through the idea. “Someone with operational experience who’s willing to be bait to lure this guy out on our own timetable.”
For a moment, he contemplated asking Sydney from his firm, but she had a teenage son, and he wouldn’t want to jeopardize the boy’s life, so no, Sydney was off-limits.
“You can’t marry some random woman. No one will believe it.” Ella’s eyes thinned as her focus lowered to the ground, and heaven help him, he knew what this sassy and stubborn woman was about to say, and?—
“No, absolutely not,” he rejected her before she had a chance to utter the insanity he knew was coming.
“Like you said, if this guy sent someone here to snoop around, they’d quickly discover that the whole of Walkins Glen thinks you and I should . . . be together.” A touch of sorrow clung to her words, but it was the proposal he knew was coming that was enough to slap the breath from him. “And not to state the obvious, but if this guy has already started going after those he believes responsible for his wife’s death, he’ll assume word has gotten out to the ‘shooter’ that he’s coming for him too.” She tossed out air quotes while talking.
But shit, he hadn’t been thinking clearly, and she was right, putting a dent in his fake marriage plan. Whether Zoran had his name yet or not, Zoran would expect Jesse to know the shooter from that day would be on the man’s hit list. And Zoran would recognize the fake wedding as an attempt to bait him.
“That’s why the marriage needs to be real. Well, believable. He won’t be able to resist coming after me whether he suspects you married me only to draw him out or not. Because he’ll easily be able to confirm?—”
“How I feel about you if he asks around town,” he finished for her, his voice breaking this time. The knot of emotion thick in his throat as he admitted the truth.
“The wedding idea was yours,” she sputtered a bit defensively. “He’ll still want to kill me to hurt you no matter what. I’m just suggesting a solution that will still draw him out regardless of whether he buys into the wedding or not. The nuptials would be the, uh, icing on the wedding cake, so to speak.”
“It’s an insane solution.”
She shook her head. “Everyone in town will buy into it. You learned I was going to Paris, and that was why you proposed, and we decided to have a quick wedding.” She twirled her hand in the air. “Your people can fix the government records to make the marriage look real, right? So, if he does some digging, he’ll see the marriage license.”
When Jesse reached for her, she didn’t back away this time as he expected. Without thinking, he took hold of her forearm and gently pulled her closer.
Her hand landed on his bicep as his other palm splayed across her back. Now nearly flush against his frame, her breathing picked up as she stared into his eyes.
He wanted her close enough to hear the resounding no he was about to hiss in her ear. No way would he fake marry her to draw out a criminal. She was a school teacher, not an operative. He would never let her do this.
Jesse tipped her chin up with his free hand, a silent demand for her eyes to meet his, and in a low, gravelly tone, he said, “I’m not marrying you to make you bait.” He leaned closer so that their mouths practically touched, and repeating her earlier pronouncement, he added, “End of fucking story.”