Chapter 23 #3
Felix was about Wyatt’s height, more lean than muscular. His legs were encased in dark denim, which he’d paired with a white, pressed button-down shirt.
“Can I cut in?” Felix’s green eyes moved to Harper, and Wyatt stepped back.
“Took you long enough,” Harper said, her voice soft and flirtatious, even though Felix’s wife wasn’t far away.
Harper had easily slipped into her alias so fast it’d taken Wyatt a moment to remember the woman used to be with the Agency like Natasha. She must’ve decided to take advantage of Felix’s attraction to her.
Wyatt tucked his hands into his pockets and backed up a few steps, working his way closer to where Kate and Jasper sat.
He peered back at Natasha. She made eye contact with him as she continued to dance with Roman. She moved with graceful ease, and he immediately missed the feel of her body intimately pressed to his when they’d danced.
He reached into his pocket and clicked on the pen, hoping he was close enough to catch some of Kate and Jasper’s conversation with the recorder.
After a minute, A.J.’s voice popped into his ear. “Target three is entering the club.”
Shit.
Target three. His daughter.
The guys had studied Gwen’s social media accounts before heading to the club tonight. They’d checked out Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.
Her photos on Facebook dated back five years. Taking a virtual walk through her teenage years had done a number on him. He’d had mixed feelings about seeing pictures of her with her friends and boyfriends.
Regret hung heavy for missing out on so much of her life, but it was also nice getting to know more about her.
Her favorite color had to be red given how often she wore it.
She’d frequented the same ice cream place in London Wyatt had gone to as a kid. A simple vanilla and chocolate lover like him. A scoop of each.
She had excellent marksmanship based on the photos of her shooting skeet back at her family home.
Gwen also wrote several pieces for her high school newspaper that had most likely given Charlotte and Arthur heart attacks. Especially one article, in particular, calling for the abolition of nobility titles.
The tweet she’d sent out a few months after she’d turned eighteen had his stomach turning, though. I grew up in a house of lies. #Gettingoutofhere #Screwthislife #Donewithliars
He had no idea what had happened, and he probably never would find out, but he remembered Charlotte saying at the funeral that Gwen and Arthur had a blowout right before she went to college.
“You got her in your sights?” A.J. asked, pulling Wyatt’s focus back to the club just as Gwen appeared in his line of sight.
“Yes,” Wyatt replied, too low for A.J. to have heard him because his vocal cords were jammed at the sight of Gwen walking with confident strides.
Dressed in flowing black trousers with a bright red top that hung off one shoulder, she secured the attention of everyone she passed.
Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her lips were as red as her shirt. Her heels on the tile floor were made silent by the band.
Felix stopped dancing with Harper when Gwen brushed past him like an angry breeze, sweeping his focus her way.
“Excuse me,” he overheard Felix say.
Harper switched places with Natasha, and Wyatt clicked the pen off. He gathered Natasha into his arms to dance again, but couldn’t remember the steps, not after having just seen Gwen for the first time. And certainly not with Felix tearing a path to get to his daughter at the bar.
Unless Felix had memorized every name and face on the competitor list, which was unlikely, there was no way he’d make such a fast approach on Gwen unless he’d met her before, and it had his stomach sinking to Titanic-like depths.
“What the hell is going on?” he rasped.
Natasha turned and pressed her back to his chest, then began moving up and down against him, doing a sexy shimmy. It wasn’t exactly salsa, but it enabled her to put eyes on their targets.
Targets. In what world did he A, have a daughter, and B, have a daughter that was a target?
Gwen’s arms were tight across her chest as Felix talked to her near the bar. There was no touching. No intimacy. But there was something between them. The absence of touch may have said more than any possible brush of their bodies ever could.
“She’s ordering a drink,” he grumbled a minute later. “She’s only twenty.”
“That’s legal here. And in the U.K., right?” Natasha commented.
“Yeah, well, it’s too young. Hell, so is twenty-one. We need to change the laws.”
He stopped dancing, his heart shriveling in his chest when Gwen ignored the drink the bartender offered, instead maneuvering around Felix and toward the side door, which led to a small patio area outside. “I’m going out there.”
Natasha’s mouth tightened, but she nodded.
Harper’s glaring look wasn’t enough to stop him, either. He had to see her. Talk to her. Know she was okay.
If the most dangerous hacker in history was somewhere in the club tonight, like hell would he have his daughter standing outside on a patio.
He pushed open the door, and a blast of cold air hit him in the face.
She was standing beneath the heater, and some guy in a dark hoodie offered her a smoke.
“Don’t you know smoking is bad for you?” He tucked his hands into his pockets, instinctively pulling his shoulders forward against the cold.
The guy pivoted Wyatt’s way but kept his eyes on the ground, then moved past him and went back inside. He didn’t want to tango with Wyatt. Smart move.
“What, are you my father?” Her words and sarcastic drawl were a kick in the nuts. Then she rolled her eyes, which he imagined she probably did a lot.
She edged closer to the heater, and he lifted his hand to the knob that was out of her reach and jacked up the flame to increase the heat for her.
“Thanks.” Her mumbled appreciation was almost too low to hear. “Did you follow me out here?” Her brows knitted in distrust. “Are you some creeper?”
At least she was cautious, but he couldn’t believe his daughter was so close and with her bluish-gray eyes focused on him, the stubborn lift of her chin tipped up. “I saw you talking to Felix, and you looked pissed. I thought I’d check on you.”
She looked him over as if trying to get a read on him. “You don’t look like a hacker,” she concluded.
“Neither do you.” And why in the hell are you one?
“But, you do look familiar.” Her brows remained tight as she assessed him. “You’re from England?”
How could he stand here and lie to his daughter?
Probably his daughter.
No, she was his. She had to be.
Same color hair. The same Are they blue or gray? eyes. The same . . . “Yeah,” he forced out before he became dizzy from his thoughts.
“Do I know you?” She kicked her suspicious glare up a notch. If looks could kill . . .
“We’ve never met.” That was true, so he felt less dick-like for his response.
“I really feel like I know you.” She tipped her head to the side and moved closer to him.
He cleared his throat and asked, “What happened with you and Felix?” He needed to turn this conversation around and get it off of him.
His words had her backing up a step. “Felix is an arse.” Her teeth clicked together, chattering from the frigid temperature. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and her long, dark lashes lifted to meet his eyes. “What’s your name?”
She wasn’t going to let this go, was she? Stubborn like him.
She’s Arthur’s daughter. Arthur raised her. I’m only blood. But then, why the hell did he feel such an immediate connection with her? A need to protect her and to knock down any threats in her way?
“Real or online moniker?”
“You can start with your cyber name.”
It took him a moment to remember, to pull his shit together. “Link.”
She bumped into the heater, and he extended a hand to catch the thing before it fell over on her.
“Nice reflexes, but you’re also a liar.” She shook her head. “I don’t like liars.”
He released his hold of the heater, which should’ve been recalled for its shit stability and almost falling onto his daughter.
But how in the hell had Gwen known he wasn’t Link?
“You’re not entering the competition with that name, are you?
” The angry draw of her brows was confirmation he was fucked.
Of all the names Harper could have picked, somehow, his daughter was the only one who’d met this recluse hacker, Link.
What were the odds? With the way things were going lately, why was he even surprised?
“No, I’m not entering.”
“Link’s a good guy, and he wouldn’t like someone using his name. I suggest you choose a different handle if you’re going to try and pretend you’re a hacker,” she said, her tone sharp. She brushed past him, but he whirled around and captured her arm, doing his best to keep his touch light.
“Be safe,” he couldn’t help but say.
Her gaze cut to his hand on her arm before meeting his eyes. “I have a dad. I don’t need another.”
Wyatt forced himself to release her, her words creating a gaping hole in his heart—an unexpected and painful blow.
He watched her hurry inside and took a minute to shake off his emotions. “Two,” he said into his comm.
“I got her,” A.J. answered right away. “She’s exiting the club.”
“Don’t lose her,” Wyatt instructed, pushing the heel of his hand to his forehead, hoping to relieve the pain but grateful she had left the club.
“You okay?”
He lowered his hand at the sound of Natasha’s voice. “That was hard.”
She brought her hand to his back, but he wasn’t ready to turn around yet. She’d see the hurt in his eyes.
“She’s angry at Felix. And it feels . . .” He didn’t want to elaborate because it tugged at his desire to kill, and there was one target in mind—Felix Ward.
“You think something is going on between them.” She’d said it for him, but could he answer without breaking something?
“I do.” He turned to face her.
“Maybe they’re secretly seeing each other. He could’ve gotten angry she showed up tonight.”
Wyatt tried to draw upon Natasha’s strength when all he wanted to do was go back inside and snap Felix’s neck.
Felix was thirty-eight, a year younger than Wyatt.
Gwen would be twenty-one in March.
She was too young.
And the prick was married.
“I’m gonna kill him.” His hands turned to fists, and he gritted down on his back teeth while staring at the side door to the club. “She probably came tonight unaware Felix wasn’t the one who issued the challenge.”
“And since she’s trying to prove herself—how could she resist?”
“But he got pissed she showed up.”
“And he was already upset knowing someone hacked his account,” she added. “Plus, his wife was there.”
“That didn’t stop him from flirting with Harper,” he pointed out.
“Target One has left,” Chris said over comms, alerting the team to Felix’s status, and his words had Wyatt’s heartbeat intensifying.
He tapped his comm. “What’s the status on your target, Two?”
Was Felix going after Gwen?
The line crackled, and A.J.’s breathing came across a bit labored. “She walked three blocks and stopped. She’s on her phone. Maybe she’s waiting on a ride. I’m ordering an Uber, so I’m ready to follow. I might be out of comms range soon.”
“Okay,” he said, his shoulders sagging in relief with Gwen away from whatever game The Knight was playing. “Let me know if anything changes.”
“Roger,” A.J. answered.
“Target One is climbing into a limo that just pulled up,” Chris informed him.
“Follow him,” Wyatt ordered and motioned to Natasha to head back inside the club so he could put eyes on Jasper and Kate. “Everyone, stay on assigned targets as planned.”
“What now?” Natasha asked him.
“We head back to the hotel,” he said, his voice clipped from worry. He wished he could trade places with A.J.
“But The Knight, what if he’s here?” she mouthed.
The son of a bitch brought them to that nightclub for a reason, but what was it? To toy with Natasha? Another jab at Felix?
He glanced around the place, looking for any other hackers on the list of competitors—no one was familiar. “If he’s here, he doesn’t want us to know it,” he said into her ear. “We can have Harper check the club’s surveillance footage later.”
“He’s too good to let us see him,” she said as they started for the coat check, an eerie feeling crawling up the back of his neck and chills crashing over his skin.
He stopped outside the club when A.J.’s voice popped into his ear again.
“This is Two,” A.J. said, his tone more breathless than before. “Target Three was picked up, and it ain’t no Uber. She just got into Target One’s limo.”