Chapter 15 #2
“Sorry,” he said, as if that could mean anything. “And I’m sorry you had to see someone die this morning, too.”
She lifted her hand to the base of her throat. “You almost killed Blane before the shooter did.”
He strode a few steps deeper into the room, which had a full-size bed against one wall and a small end table and lamp next to it. It felt sort of like a prison, although he doubted penitentiaries had bedside lamps. “Yeah, I guess I snapped.” The admission felt good, surprisingly.
“You beat me to it. I would’ve throttled the guy myself for using Emily like that.”
Her words had his gaze flying north to find her eyes.
“They had sex,” she said, as if she’d taken a bite of something sour. “She was being used because of me.”
His mind veered to the vibrator in her bedroom, and it had his blood boiling again, thinking about Blane watching Sam use it.
“I think death is a bit of a harsh punishment, but right now, I can’t feel bad for him.” She shook her head, her eyes falling in a daze to the floor. “I watched him die, and I don’t feel sorry for him. Does that make me a horrible person?”
He ate up the space between them in two quick steps. The old bed squeaked and sank a little as he lowered his weight onto it. “Of course not. What he did was inexcusable, and it’s natural to be angry.”
He had to do it now, he had to reach for her hand and comfort her. Now was when she needed it. It wasn’t because she was scared for her life, but because some part of her felt the way he did on the inside right now—justice had been delivered for a wrongdoing.
“You stopped me from killing him, you know.” He allowed his heart to slip back into its rightful place before speaking again.
“I may have gone through with it. I was so furious. But at the sound of your voice . . . thank you.” He squeezed her hand.
“I don’t want to be a killer, even if the guy is an asshole.
It shouldn’t have been up to me to decide his fate. ”
Hearing his lofty words, he tensed.
Teteruk was a different story. Teteruk was an enemy of the state. He had murdered Jason and Brad, and God knew how many other people. His fate had been decided the second he took the lives of two Navy SEALs ten years ago.
But was Sam’s father any better for helping broker the deal that had allowed a killer to live?
That would be like blaming every defense attorney in D.C. for doing their jobs and representing criminals, but . . .
“Does that mean you’ve reconsidered going after Tet—”
“Let’s focus on finding our people first.” She could read his mind, apparently.
Her brow furrowed. “What people?”
He hung his head and released her hand. He was having trouble keeping track of the parts of the op she knew about and the parts she didn’t.
He stood, gently closed the door, and leaned against it. With crossed arms, he studied the beautiful woman sitting before him. She didn’t belong in a place like this, or in the mess of a situation they were all now in.
“Was someone taken? More than one someone?” she asked softly.
He didn’t want to answer her, but hell, he was going to have to. In his mind, he’d be off the team soon, anyway.
The second he found and killed Teteruk, if the guy was alive, at least, Owen would be done.
He knew Sam would never betray his team, just like Luke had known the same about Eva. “Two Navy SEALs and one CIA officer were taken last week. And as of this morning, I learned Teteruk is missing as well.”
“They were involved in the op from Ukraine, too?” She pressed her elbows to her knees and leaned forward. “When we were on the boat . . . that’s when you got the call, right? That’s why you came to Washington?”
He nodded. “And then you wound up being placed at the center of it all.” He lightly shook his head, still in disbelief at how everything had gone down. “We thought the image you got came from our government files.”
“What do you mean?” She was on her feet now.
“The U.S. Joint Special Operations Command servers were most likely hacked, so we assumed the photo you got was from the mission files.”
“But it wasn’t?”
He looked skyward for a moment to corral his anger. “It was from one of the blackmail photos Pavlo Teteruk used to extort money from the U.S.—the reason he remained alive, even after what he did.”
If there were ever a time to tell her about her father, it’d be now, but for some reason, he didn’t think he could do it.
“Shit.” Her hands went to her hips.
“It looks like Teteruk was taken before our men were, which means they used his photos to ID our guys.”
“Was Teteruk’s name in the JSOC files?”
“Close enough. The location to his compound was in the file. He’s been living in Georgia, not far from the Russian border. He was taken from there eight or so days ago.”
She scratched at the side of her long neck, as if in thought. Perhaps she was sweeping through the details in her head, trying to make sense of it all. “I, uh, shouldn’t keep you, then. I should let you get to work. You need to find your people. You need to put an end to this.”
“That’s the plan.” He closed the gap between them and wrapped a hand over her shoulder. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”
Her lips rolled inward. “I’ll be whatever I need to be.”
“That’s not what I want to hear.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her cheek, holding her eyes. “Don’t tell me what you think I need to hear. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth,” she whispered, nodding her head ever so lightly. “When I know the truth about how I feel, you’ll be the first one I tell.”
His chest grew heavy, as if his heart was growing in size and competing for space. “I’m here for you. I haven’t been for the last ten years like I should have, but I’m here now.” He stepped away from her and withdrew contact. “I promise.”
“You don’t owe me anything. You never did.” She turned and reached for her suitcase.
She was using her actions as a buffer between them. He knew a thing or two about that, but for some reason, he didn’t want her to do this with him; he didn’t want her to feel like she had to wear a mask, which he was pretty sure her father had forced her to do for years.
His hand slipped to her hip and then skated around to her abdomen, pulling her back against him. He had her gently pinned to him, his way of letting her know how he felt. Even if he couldn’t voice his feelings, he wanted her to know.
She leaned into his touch and tilted her head against the top of his shoulder. Her hand fell over his, and their fingers locked tight against her stomach.
Her powerhouse work perfume was subtle now, and beneath the flowery layers, the beautiful scent was simply her. He could breathe her in all day.
“We’ll get through this. I promise,” he whispered into her ear.
He released his hold of her and left the room without looking back. Because he couldn’t look back.
He’d never be able to leave her side if he looked into her brown eyes even one more time.
Once the door was shut, he paused in the hall, pressed his fists to her door, and bowed his head, trying to gather his control before entering their makeshift TOC.
He wasn’t used to dealing with so many emotions, and it was throwing him off. He needed to get his shit together, or he’d be of no use to his team.
An agonizing minute later, he entered the room where everyone was assembled.
Knox, Luke, and Jess were behind computers, and Liam and Asher were standing in front of a whiteboard at the back of the room near a conference table.
“Did we ID where he got the shot off yet?” Owen closed the door behind him and approached Jess.
Asher touched a set of blueprints taped to the whiteboard. “Feds are crawling all over Emily’s place now, but it looks like he was on the roof of the home behind hers.”
“This whole situation is becoming harder to keep out of the public eye. The press is going to figure out something is up, and soon,” Knox said.
“Well, the shooter took Blane out for a reason,” Liam noted. “He wouldn’t suddenly take the risk to possibly expose everything unless Blane knew something.”
“The shooter was either planning on taking Blane out anyway, or he followed you to Emily’s.
We’ve been scouring every bit of security footage we could access to see if we could catch him tailing you,” Knox said.
“We think we got a hit outside our hotel late last night.” He approached Owen and handed him a photo. “This him?”
Owen narrowed his eyes. “I think so.” He turned to Jess. “Can we upload this image to your program?” His heart began to race, hopeful for a lead.
“Already done. If he’s connected, we should know within an hour or so,” she said before returning her focus to her screen.
“Thank God.” Owen handed Knox the photo.
“How’s Samantha holding up?” Asher faced him, squaring his stance and folding his arms.
“Crazy morning for her, but I think she’s solid.
” Somehow, the woman was a damn rock. Of course, he had to remember she’d learned to be that way; and she didn’t necessarily want to constantly be tough.
When she’d cried against his chest Saturday night, he was pretty sure her slip of emotions had taken even her by surprise.
Owen’s hands settled on his hips as a sudden idea breezed through his mind. “We need Sam’s help. We need to bring her in.”
“You do know the definition of covert, right?” Asher whirled his finger in the air, simulating helo blades. “The thing we’re supposed to be?”
Jess looked over at them, then to Luke. “Owen might be right.”
“She and her father are the masterminds behind the Ukrainian–Russian deal. They know the timeline, and now that we know her blackmail threat is related to the mission ten years ago, we might be able to put all the pieces together with her help.”
“We’d be breaking protocol.” Asher peered at Luke as if expecting him to reject the idea.
Luke stood from his desk, and the way he was looking at Owen told him one thing: Luke knew the truth. He knew Owen had already divulged classified intel to Sam because Luke himself had broken the rules not too long ago for Eva, the woman who now carried his child.
“Can we have a minute?” Luke pointed to the door.
Once they were in the hall, Owen waited for the door to close before making eye contact with his boss. Of course, Luke and Jess never made him feel like they were anything less than equals.
Luke wrapped a hand around the nape of his neck and eyed him. Words weren’t needed; the grimace on his face revealed his discomfort.
Yeah, him, too.
Luke glanced down the hall in the direction of Sam’s room. “Are you sure you want to stay on and work this op?”
Owen’s eyes widened. “Where the hell is that coming from?”
“We haven’t had two seconds to talk since all this shit has gone down, and I’m worried about you.”
Owen’s booted feet inched back a step. “I didn’t see you backing down when Eva was in danger.”
“That was different,” he grumbled, “and I’m not asking you to back down. I’m thinking of having you stick by Sam’s side while we take care of the situation.”
He folded his arms. “Yeah? And if POTUS makes her go to Russia?”
“We won’t be sending her overseas, not when someone got a shot off so close to her head this morning.”
“Tell that to the president,” Owen seethed, his anger toward authority projecting onto Luke right now. He released a pent-up breath, trying to calm down. “Listen, I know I haven’t been at the top of my game, but I have to be part of this op.”
Luke’s Adam’s apple moved in his throat. “I know I promised you if the time ever came to find who was responsible for Jason’s death, I’d fight for you to be on the team, and I did.” His hand patted his own chest. “But now, well, I’m just wondering if that’s the best idea.”
“Asher told you about Blane, didn’t he?” Luke had to be concerned that Owen might snap again.
His brows furrowed. “What about Blane?”
So, Asher didn’t talk. He owed him a case of beer when this was over. “I want to get our men back,” he said instead.
“Are you sure that’s all?” He shot him a pointed look.
“Because I know if I were you, I’d be thinking about going after Teteruk.
And I know this because I still think about what I’ll do when I find the men who killed Marcus.
” A dark stain slowly rose up his neck and into his face. “I won’t hesitate to take them out.”
“What are you saying?” Owen’s brows pinched tight.
“I’m saying if something were to happen to Teteruk during this op,” he found his eyes, “Command won’t know it was you.”
His eyes narrowed. “I thought we don’t murder people. I thought we were supposed to let the law decide justice.”
“In this case, fuck the law.” Luke clenched his jaw. “That asshole killed our men. Killed your brother.” He released a heavy breath.
Owen nodded, not sure what else to say. He didn’t want to verbally admit that he had every intention of committing murder.
“What I’m trying to say is that, whether you’re on this op or not, I’ll make sure you get justice.
So, if you’d feel better hanging back with Sam when we’re commissioned to go wherever the hell POTUS needs us, I’d understand.
” He shrugged. “If anyone could understand, it’d be me.
You saw how crazy I got when Eva was in trouble. ”
“But you were also falling in love with her.”
“What do you think is happening to you?”
He sounded like Asher now. What was with his team? “We just met, and she’s Brad’s . . .” He couldn’t say it out loud. He didn’t want to hear the truth right now. “The timing is shit, and she’s off-limits, anyway.”
Luke shook his head. “The timing is always shit, and no one is ever off-limits.”
“Even your sister?” Somehow, a near-smile almost snuck up on him.
“Except her.” Luke lifted his hands and wrapped one over Owen’s shoulder. “Brad would want her to be happy. You know you’d feel the same if you were in his position.” He patted his shoulder once.
He shook his head. “I’m in. I have to be.”
He nodded. “Fine. Figured. Go get her, then. I’ll deal with the consequences of that decision later.”
Luke returned to the room without another word, and Owen dragged his palms down his face, thinking about Sam.
From the dimple in her cheek when she smiled, to the sexy huskiness in her voice, to her gorgeous brown eyes that darkened whenever she gathered her lower lip between her teeth and stared at him .
. . she was all he wanted to think about.
He didn’t want to think about the three Americans possibly being tortured; he didn’t want to think about war with fucking Russia.
Or even vengeance for Jason and Brad.
He shook his head.
No, all he wanted to do was think about her. Samantha Rose McCarthy.
And what the hell did that mean?