5. Thad
Thad
Declan pulled into the driveway of the secluded bungalow we would be staying at and came to a stop.
The fifteen minutes we’d traveled in silence had done nothing to calm me. I had a thousand questions—none of which I wanted the answers to. Answers would mean I’d have to talk to Emerson and that was something I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
On the plane ride down to Venezuela we’d strategized five different mission scenarios.
From there we’d culled it down to one plan of action with two backups.
The plan was simple. We’d break up into two teams. Declan, Kyle, and Brooks would infiltrate the warehouse and find Leon Brown.
Garrett had an informant who had confirmed Brown was in the building.
The man had also roughly sketched the floorplan on a cocktail napkin and sent it to Garrett.
It wasn’t the best intel we’d ever had, but it wasn’t the worst. Brown was in an office on the second floor. The informant didn’t know which one, as there were three, but the team had a general idea and that was good enough.
As soon as we’d gotten to the location, Max and I had peeled off and found a sniper’s perch. We’d cover the team as they went in, then wait for Jefferson Garcia and take him out.
Everything had been going to plan until Emerson stepped out of the black town car. Then the operation had gone to shit. The very second recognition dawned, my breath caught in my throat and my heart rate had kicked up.
Completely and totally FUBAR.
Through my scope I’d watched her teeter on her high heels before she’d regained her balance. Shiny blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and I couldn’t stop myself from remembering how soft it had been when I’d run my fingers through it.
Declan’s voice had crackled in my ear that Brown was in the wind and for us to take our shot now. Max confirmed he was on target but I hesitated. Garcia had pulled Emerson in front of him using her as a human shield.
I had a clear sight picture, one that would pierce Emerson’s heart before it travelled through her and slammed into Jefferson Garcia.
Her tiny body was no match for my three-oh-eight round.
It would’ve torn through her flesh like butter and killed them both.
It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d had two kills with one shot.
But I couldn’t do it.
I adjusted my aim for a head shot and pulled the trigger. Garcia had dropped, taking Emerson with him. They both hit the dirt and Max’s target had fallen on top of Emerson, banging his skull against hers.
I should’ve left her there, but as I continued to watch her through my scope and I saw the fear and panic on her face—I couldn’t do it.
No matter how pissed I was at her, I couldn’t leave her on the dirty ground covered in the other men’s blood.
I was weak. A stronger man would’ve turned his back. Which was what I should’ve done. Instead, I bolted from my hiding spot and scooped her up.
Then I’d lost my temper, something I rarely did, as in—never. And now there she was next to me. Something I wasn’t ready to face. Something I’d thought I’d never have to deal with—the demons of my past slamming into my present. The ones that haunted me.
I also knew I was going to be catching shit from Declan. Which I deserved, and that pissed me the fuck off.
I did not lose my shit. Not ever.
Except when it came to Emerson.
But this woman was not the Emerson I’d fallen in love with, she wasn’t the woman who I’d bought a ring for and was going to ask to marry me. The woman sitting next to me in a fancy-assed ball gown was a gang leader’s girlfriend. Not my sweet Emmy. All traces of that woman were gone.
That should’ve made it easier, but it didn’t. It killed. Knowing what she’d turned into made acid churn in my gut.
Declan and Kyle got out of the SUV and I inhaled through my nose, trying to calm my racing thoughts. On the third in-draw of breath, I realized as long as she was sitting close, our thighs touching, I’d never get my bearings. I needed to get the fuck away from Emerson.
I opened my door, got out, reached back in, wrapped my hand around her slim bicep, and struggled with the awareness I was touching Emerson again.
Her delicate skin was as soft as I’d remembered.
The memory of her so fresh in my mind after ten years it was astounding.
There was nothing about this woman I could forget.
And I’d tried. I wanted to forget. I’d spent years doing whatever I could not to think about her. To stop myself from wondering where she was and why she’d left me.
Emerson Pierce was my own personal hell. The agony of her betrayal still as sharp as it was the day I’d come home and found her gone.
“Come on.” I tugged her arm, forcing her out of the car.
“You’re hurting me, Thaddeus. Can you give me a second, please?”
Pain tore through my chest hearing her call me by my full name.
No woman since her had called me Thaddeus.
I cringed every time I heard one of my teammates call me it, which thankfully wasn’t often.
And every time someone did say it, I’d be taken back to a moment in time where I could picture Emerson breathe my name and flash me one of her pretty smiles.
Fuck.
I didn’t need this. Not now. Not ever.
“Thad.”
“What?”
I continued to pull her alongside of me and told her, “My name is Thad.”
We got to the open doorway when she wrenched her arm from my grasp and her back shot ramrod straight.
“What?”
“Jesus, woman, are you hard of hearing?”
“I know what your name is. What I don’t understand is, why you’re telling me what it is.”
“Whatever. Just get your ass in the house.”
“Were you always this much of a dick?”
“I don’t know. Did you always make it a habit of sleeping with scumbags who peddle flesh?”
Hurt flashed in Emerson’s eyes right before they narrowed.
“You don’t have the first clue about what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Get your ass in the house,” I repeated and stepped forward, forcing her to move farther into the room .
I shut the door and all eyes were on us.
Whatever.
I didn’t give a shit about that, either. All I wanted was to get the fuck away from her.
Yeah, I should’ve left her cold-hearted ass in the dirt.
Her heels clacked on the tile floor as she walked away from me and my eyes landed on the fucking tattoo on her back.
Goddamn. Why was my name inked on her skin?
“I take it you two know each other,” Declan snarled. “Mind making the introductions?”
“I’m Emerson Pierce.”
“And you know Thad how?” he continued.
She pinched her lips together and her eyes shot to mine. I may’ve never discussed Emerson with my team, and I would’ve preferred never to have had to, but I bought this. And I’d have to pay.
“We dated when I was in BUD/s,” I told the room.
Max gave me a hard stare. He’d seen her in Mexico, but when he’d started asking me questions about her, I’d blown him off.
I was sure he was also putting two and two together.
He might not have known about Emerson at the time, but during our first work-up he’d known I was seeing someone.
And when we’d gotten back and she was gone, he’d been there through that, too.
Though I never told my platoon what had me in a perpetual bad mood, they’d all noticed the swift change in my attitude.
“I take it things didn’t end well,” he pushed.
Dick.
“They ended,” I bit out, not offering anymore information.
“Right.” Declan’s stare shifted from me to Emerson and he asked, “How do you know Jefferson Garcia?”
“Why’d you kill him?” Her question took me off-guard and her tone bore no indication of her feelings about his death.
That annoyed the fuck out of me. Both because she’d asked and because I couldn’t get a read on her with her features blank.
Declan continued to study Emerson, and with a shake of my head, I allowed my gaze to fall away.
I couldn’t even bear to look at her any longer.
I took in the room, seeing Kyle and Brooks both watching Emerson with intent fascination, probably trying to puzzle her out as well.
Max, the most untrusting of the group, looked at her like she was an enemy posed to strike.
Which I thought was the correct way to handle her.
But it was Tatiana who looked at Emerson with pity.
I wanted to set Brooks’ wife straight, tell her that Emerson Pierce didn’t deserve an ounce of her care and concern. The woman was poisonous.
“That’s not your business. Why were you with Garcia this evening?” Dec continued.
“I don’t think that’s any of yours. I have no idea who any of you are. Why you killed Jefferson. Or why I’m here. What I do know is because of all of you, I’m totally screwed. I also know I’d like to leave.”
“Who do you work for?” Dec asked.
“No one.”
“Right. This is going to go much easier for you if you answer my questions. Why were you with Garcia this evening? How do you know him? And who the fuck do you work for?”
Declan’s demeanor had changed. The hard edge in his voice had my protectiveness roaring to the surface.
I wanted to save Emerson from his ire, but she wasn’t mine to save.
And the fact we’d found her on Garcia’s arm getting ready to go into a warehouse where money, drugs, and women were exchanging hands, while being entertained by the sickest shit imaginable, told me she not only didn’t get my protection but she deserved every bit of Declan’s attitude.
And it would get worse for her if she didn’t start talking.
“I told you, I don’t work for anyone. I have no idea what that even means. How I know Jefferson is none of your business. I’m leaving. Unless you’re going to keep me here against my will and torture me, I have nothing to say to any of you.”
Yeah, that last part of her little speech was a dig at me. I kept my eyes trained on Tatiana, not giving Emerson anymore of my attention.
I’d fucked up huge bringing her back here.
“She doesn’t work for anyone,” Tatiana spoke. “What did you plan on doing with Jefferson?”
“I told—”
“Cut the shit,” Tatiana spoke over her. “No one’s going to torture you.
Thad brought you here for your protection.
Once Jefferson and his bodyguard were down, you’d be free game and you know it.
No one’s holding you against your will, either.
Jefferson Garcia was taken out because he was a scumbag.
He bought and sold women, among other things.
But you already knew that. Why were you with him at the dog fight tonight? ”
I heard something clatter on the tile and my eyes cut to Emerson. She’d slipped off her heels, both now laying haphazardly on the floor in front of her. Her hands were now working at her ear, as she angrily removed one earring then moved to the other side and took out the other one.
“I was there because he was meeting with someone and I wanted to sit in on the meeting,” Emerson finally answered.
“Why would he allow you to sit in on a meeting?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“Because he likes to show off his pretty girlfriend to his business associates,” she snarled .
My body jerked at her response and I was so pissed I couldn’t hide my reaction. I’d figured Emerson was Garcia’s woman. But hearing her say it was like a punch to the gut.
Motherfucker.
“Who was he meeting with?” Kyle asked.
“No clue. He didn’t discuss business with me.”
“But he allowed you to sit in on meetings?” I inquired.
Why the hell was I speaking to her? I shouldn’t even have been in the room. The team could interrogate her without my help.
“Some of them, yes. I was to charm them, then sit next to Jefferson with my mouth shut. Sometimes, after small talk and pleasantries were exchanged, I was asked to leave the room. That happened a lot. All Jefferson wanted was to walk into the meeting with me on his arm, he didn’t care what happened after that.
But, however the meeting went down, he never discussed his business with me.
Even when, like tonight, he was visibly upset, he still didn’t confide in me. ”
“So you don’t know what made him upset tonight?” Declan took over the questioning.
“I didn’t say I didn’t know. I said, he didn’t talk to me about it.”
“Christ, agápi mou , stop talking in fucking circles and just spit it the fuck out already, would you?”
Her old nickname rolled off my tongue before I could stop it. Jesus. Emerson’s eyes widened in shock at my outburst, then hurt flashed.
Goddammit.
Fuck it all to hell.
Fuck her. All of this was her fault. If she hadn’t left me the way she had, we would’ve had it all. I’d been prepared to make her my wife and fill our home with all the kids she’d talked about having. I’d been ready to lay the world at her feet .
So, no, I didn’t give the first fuck she’d tattooed my name on her skin.
Or that she was fucking a gang leader who sold drugs and women.
And lastly, I didn’t fucking care she was standing three feet away from me with blood and throw-up caked in her hair and on her expensive dress, looking like I’d just smacked her across her pretty face.
Fuck her. Fuck her . Fuck her.
My eyes slid back to her flashy sandals, knowing I would’ve never been able to afford to give those to her on my second-class pay.
I did this thinking I’d never known Emerson.
There was no way my sweet girl who’d lived in flip-flops, worn-out cut-off shorts, had a heart so big she couldn’t walk past a homeless person without giving them money, the woman who’d been studying to be an elementary school teacher would ever wear a pair of shoes like those.
Fuck me. I’d been played.