Chapter 23 #2
It was hard to imagine this incredible woman had gone into Santiago’s home by herself.
Chris had been with his team. Liam inspired safety being on overwatch on the long gun.
Finn had been right at his six every step of the way.
Wyatt and Roman and the others had been in his ear. He’d had backup. Rory didn’t.
His pulse raced with terror just imagining the scene of Rory slipping into that compound. The million things that could have gone wrong.
It didn’t, though, he reminded himself. But what if K-9 training isn’t enough for her? What if she goes back to hunting bad guys? Instead of a knife wound in Cartagena, the next blow could be fatal.
Rory lived on the edge, and what if she . . . leaves me?
No. No, no, no. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t pigeonhole Rory into the damn boxes in his head his mom created when she left. That was his mom’s baggage, not his.
Fuck that. If Rory needed to make a difference in the world the way he was trying to do, he’d be there for her. Support her. And he’d fight like hell to make sure she made it home alive the way he did with his brothers on the teams every day.
Chris’s focus swiveled back to Carter to hear what else he had to say, pulling his mind out of the what-if gutter.
“When I took Santiago into custody, as you now know, I discovered he had photos of Rebecca and Rory in disguises in Cartagena. Obviously, I recognized my wife, and since I’d already met Rory, I realized it was her, too.
Santiago told me Rebecca was the original target, and The Italian paid him to have her killed and to search my home,” Carter repeated what he’d said when Chris first came down but threw in a few more details.
“I may have been on Santiago’s radar before I left the Agency even if he wasn’t on mine, but after talking with Rory, it looks like Santiago told me the truth about Rebecca.
That she was the target, not me. Although, I have to be on The Italian’s shit list now that I grabbed Santiago. ”
“We think Santiago’s capture may be what triggered this recent series of events, especially since he was chosen to follow Rebecca three years ago and subsequently kill her,” Rory said, side-eying Chris.
We? He never wanted there to be a “we” when it came to her and Carter. Okay, maybe he was letting some alpha-male thing come into play, but he was certain it was mostly because he didn’t trust Carter around Rory.
“What else do you know about The Italian?” Harper asked Carter.
“All correspondence was done by way of untraceable phone numbers and email addresses. Payments through offshore accounts that dry up after the transactions are made. All other leads I have looked into since I learned about Santiago are dead ends,” Carter answered.
“I might be able to help. Jessica, too,” Harper said with confidence. “We should start by looking into your wife’s contacts. She may have gotten the list of twenty-five from you, but she had to be ruffling feathers somewhere to turn a smuggler onto her before she even met Rory in Colombia.”
“I’m still not sure we can trust you,” Chris announced. “You could be lying about everything.”
“Sleep on it. I think that’s enough for tonight, anyway.” When Carter rose, three armed guards entered the dining area, and his dog hopped to all fours.
“Wait.” Rory stood, snagging Carter’s attention.
“I don’t want to sleep alone. If you want to discuss plans tomorrow, you let us stick together tonight.” Rory’s words came out strong and determined.
“That’s reasonable.” Carter faced one of his guards. “Two rooms instead of four. They can pick who they choose to sleep with tonight. But doors remain locked.”
“And I want proof my family is safe when I wake up in the morning,” Rory rushed out. “Or you and your plans can go to hell.”
“Fine.” Carter left without another word, and Rory dropped down in her seat.
“I’m so sorry,” Rory said, eyes sweeping around the table before landing on Chris last.
Chris reached for her hand beneath the table. “This isn’t on you.”
It was hard to believe they were at some lavish estate in Puerto Rico, when yesterday (was it really yesterday?) they’d been disembarking a sinking yacht, facing possible death. And shit, there were the nearly naked plank walks, too, that had happened today.
He needed sleep.
And more than anything, he needed Rory safe in his arms.
“Are we really considering working with him?” Roman asked, an echo of Chris’s comment. “I don’t trust him.”
“This isn’t just about me,” Rory spoke up. “Can you imagine what it would mean if we can take The Italian down?” She closed her eyes. “This would be a win for so many. Lives, human and animal, saved.”
“And when someone else tries to assume the throne? Take over?” Chris softly challenged.
Rory swept her thumb over the top of his hand that clasped hers. She dragged her gaze up to his face. “Does that stop you from taking out bad guys? Do you let a terrorist go because why bother? Two more will be in his place tomorrow.”
Damn, she had him there. He selfishly wanted The Italian gone because he was a threat to Rory’s safety, but she was right. Taking him down would save a lot of lives. And if Chris had to go after whoever filled The Italian’s shoes, so be it.
But one thing he couldn’t handle was not doing everything in his power to keep Rory safe. Even if that meant working with an enemy.