Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
All five guys, plus Harper and Julia, were crammed inside the hotel elevator, and despite the tight space, Julia wanted to throw her arms around Finn the same way Harper had greeted Roman downstairs, but she assumed it wasn’t her place to do something like that.
Not only did she barely know the man, but she’d been an absolute Queen B to him for the better part of the past two weeks.
But there was a sad, almost haunted look in Finn’s green eyes as he leaned against the gold mirrored walls and peered at her while the elevator made its way to their floor.
And that look had her desperate to bury herself against his chest and hold him.
Even if he smelled like an animal. As a matter of fact, the entire car had taken on a pungent aroma that reminded her of a trip to the zoo as soon as the doors had closed.
Finn’s hair and clothes were a mess. Sand in the laces of his boots, his hair, and smudges of dirt on his cheeks. And she was betting there was sand in other places not visible to the eye. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.
“I need to get hold of Natasha and let her know what happened and that we’re okay,” Wyatt said in a low voice.
“Our phones didn’t work. I’m sorry.” Roman had spoken softly, and Julia glanced over to see him caressing Harper’s cheek before she focused back on Finn.
“And if you’re wondering what that smell is,” A.J. piped up in his Southern drawl, “it’s camel. We smell like fucking camels because that’s how we got back here.”
“The only guy in the bunch with experience riding horses,” Chris began as Wyatt motioned for everyone to exit the elevator, “had the hardest time on the back of a camel.” He jerked a thumb casually A.J.’s way as if whatever the hell happened to them wasn’t a big deal.
“Camels and horses are not the same, my friend,” A.J. said once they were all inside Roman and Harper’s room.
“Everyone’s okay, right?” Harper surveyed the guys while Roman hooked an arm around her back to hold her tight to his side.
The guys collectively looked straight at Finn, which had a small alarm going off in Julia’s mind. He appeared the most exhausted of the group as he stood with both hands in his pockets and a grimace on his face.
“Yeah, we’re good. But Finn took a bullet. Thankfully, it hit the chest plate, but it narrowly missed clipping his shoulder.” Wyatt brought a phone to his ear and walked toward the balcony.
“You took a bullet?” Julia’s voice squeaked as she scanned Finn’s broad frame for the injury. Had she really heard Wyatt correctly? How was Finn still standing? How was the man okay?
“He’s fine,” Chris said as if Finn had merely scraped a knee. “Just hope you love purple. Our man’s chest might be that color for a few days.”
Still talking like it was no big thing.
Who were these guys? For real, for real?
“The, um, getting-shot thing happens often?” Julia found herself asking as Finn steadied his gaze on her once again. There was a blank expression on his face, and his eyes looked almost vacant. Was this an effect of getting shot? Was he in shock?
“We’ve all taken a bullet or shrapnel at some point. Only one of us . . . well.” A.J. dragged a dirty palm down his face, then abruptly left the hotel room.
“What just happened?” Julia asked, not sure what she’d missed.
“Um.” Finn looked to Harper as if allowing her to take point on an answer.
“One of our teammates was killed in action a few years ago. Jessica’s husband, Asher, replaced him on the teams,” Harper explained in a doleful tone.
“Oh.” Julia turned toward the door, wondering if she could also make a quick exit the way A.J. had done. The entire time Tucker had served, she’d been terrified of receiving that very news. Same with her brother, as well as Oliver.
“You all do smell pretty bad.” Harper scrunched her nose.
Roman hauled her close and purposefully pulled her face against his dirty shirt.
Way to diffuse the tension, Harper.
“But I don’t care. I’m just thankful you’re back,” Harper mumbled into Roman’s chest.
“What happened out front, though?” Wyatt asked once he rejoined them while tucking his phone in the pocket of his pants.
“It looks like the plastic surgeon and maybe his assistant were murdered,” Harper beat Julia to answer. “We need to confirm, though. Why don’t we all get cleaned up, call our loved ones, then we regroup in thirty?”
“I’m gonna go check on A.J., then call Rory.” Chris lightly patted Julia on the shoulder before leaving the room.
“Everything will be okay,” Harper said, her words directed at Julia.
But Julia wasn’t ready to accept what felt like such a foreign word to her now. Okay.
She was far from okay. Finn had been shot. And also, her best lead had apparently been thrown from a fourth-floor balcony.
“I’ll verify Giorgio and Lorenzo were the ones killed, then try and wrap up decrypting that client list in the meantime.” Harper’s gaze remained on Julia. “We never planned to talk to Giorgio anyway, so let’s at least check out his client list and see who’d want him dead.”
“He met with Tariq earlier. Could he have something to do with what happened?” Roman asked. “While we were gone, did Natasha provide a status update on him?”
Tariq who?
Julia looked at Finn, standing off to her left, for his reaction to Roman’s questions, but he remained silent. She was just about to turn away when he folded his arms over his chest, winced, and slowly lowered them to his sides again. Good grief, had the man forgotten he’d been shot?
Shot. She still couldn't believe it. He wasn’t in the military anymore, but he was still getting shot.
“Yeah, as far as we know, Tariq’s at the hotel. But he’s on a flight to Dubai tomorrow,” Harper told him, which was news to Julia.
“Hang on.” Julia lifted her hand. “You just said he’s heading to Dubai tomorrow.” Her stomach muscles squeezed tight. Perhaps Finn was right and whatever his team was working on was connected to her mission somehow.
When Finn swiveled his focus her way, she continued laying out the pieces.
“You all are here following this Tariq guy. I came to Egypt hoping to meet up with the surgeon, Giorgio Ferrari.” Julia paused for a moment before continuing. “You saw Tariq in the lobby talking with the surgeon, and now the surgeon is dead. And Tariq is going to Dubai.”
“What are you getting at?” Harper asked.
“Doesn’t that seem like more than just a coincidence?” Julia was about to gnaw on her thumbnail but stopped herself. Instead, she fired off a round of questions. “What’s Tariq’s full name? Who is he other than some rich guy who funds terrorists?”
Roman scratched his beard with his free hand, eyes darting to Finn, then back to Harper. “He has ties to the Saudi royal family.”
“What’s his last name?” she rasped, drawing a hand to her stomach as if that’d help dull the pain there.
“El-Baz,” Finn answered. “Why?”
Julia took two quick steps back as if she’d been shoved by the news. “The wife of Ario Zare, the man Oliver is accused of killing. Her maiden name is El-Baz. What if she and Tariq are related?”
“Harper will figure out what’s going on,” Finn said in a distant voice once they were alone in their hotel suite.
“We’ll double-check that Kaira is related to Tariq.
Connect all of the dots. Don’t worry.” He turned and headed for the bathroom, moving more easily than a man who’d taken a bullet should be able to. “I just need, um . . . a minute.”
“Of course.” And that’d been hard to say because she wanted to help him. She had no clue how to do that, though.
She ditched her purse, nearly forgetting the Glock still inside, then watched Finn disappear from sight.
A moment later, she heard the water running in the shower and looked to see that Finn had left the bathroom door open, which didn’t seem like something he’d do. Had something else happened out in that desert?
Was he thinking about the teammate who hadn’t made it home years ago?
Finn’s health and safety were a priority. She had to put her thoughts about Oliver on the back burner for now. To momentarily forget that this terrorist financier, Tariq, might be connected to Oliver’s case.
“Finn?” She slowly crept closer to the bathroom and covered her eyes when she reached the doorway. “Dalton?”
She hesitantly lowered her hand, and the sight of Finn behind the glass shower wall filled her vision. A very clothed Finn. He still had on his short-sleeve shirt and khaki pants. Boots and socks were all he’d discarded before stepping into the shower.
His face was tipped up toward the showerhead as water cascaded over his body, his clothes clinging to his powerful frame.
“You okay?” Dumb question. He was definitely not okay. Damn that word. It was going to be scrubbed from her vocabulary because nothing had been okay lately.
Finn roped a hand around the back of his neck, still keeping his chin turned toward the water as it pelted him in the face.
“Talk to me.” She moved to stand at the entrance of the shower. Fuck it. She kicked off her sandals and stepped inside to face him. “Why only take off the boots and socks?” Small talk as an opener? Why not?
“Hate getting my shoes wet,” he answered in a low tone a moment later, then slowly opened his eyes, dropping his head to look at her.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a husky voice, his gaze lowering over her clothed body.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m worried about you.”
Droplets of water continued to roll down his tan cheeks. “Don’t be.”
“You’re standing in the shower with your clothes on. Did something bad happen out in that desert?”
“Nothing bad went down. We won. They lost.”
“You were shot.”
“Shit happens. Why are you in here?”
“Because you’re in here,” she answered honestly, her throat growing thick as she thought about the fact she could have lost him tonight. “Because I missed the signs with Tucker, but I can see them plain as day with you.”