Chapter 2
ACE
I don’t have a good feeling about this.
Strike that. I haven’t had a good feeling since the first time I noticed that prick’s eyes glued to Yara’s chest.
Then watching him touch her. First her hair, then her arm, her hand, and finally, putting his arm around her waist as they left the room together. Like two people interested in each other, which seems completely contrary to the texts Yara sent earlier.
And her cryptic messages.
Those, I especially don’t feel good about.
What’s this mission she’s talking about? Why would Yara need backup?
And why didn’t she tell me her plan instead of leaving me hanging?
It’s not that I don’t think Yara can handle herself.
After all, she’s one of the strongest and smartest people I know.
She was strong enough to get through the grueling Special Forces Qualification course, even when the odds were stacked against her, to become one of the few female Green Berets in the country.
She’s smart enough to get a degree from UC Berkeley in electrical engineering and computer science and create some of the most advanced prosthetic limbs available.
So I shouldn’t be as worried as I am about her.
But shit. I didn’t like seeing that asshole touch her. And I really don’t like the idea of Yara going off with that guy on some sort of mission she won’t tell me about.
Glancing back down at my phone, I re-read her last message.
Everything’s under control. Mission underway and on the move. I’ll text once I have final location.
And then my last text.
Roger. Be careful. I’ve got your six.
But I don’t have her six, do I?
If I did, I’d be right behind her, not still sitting at my table with a half-eaten piece of strawberry cheesecake sitting in front of me. I’d know the final location because I’d be right there instead of waiting in the banquet hall, speculating.
Casting my gaze around the table, it’s immediately evident that I’m not the only one who thinks something’s off.
“Why did Yara go off with that guy?” Eden asks. She frowns at her coffee cup for a second. “I didn’t think she was interested in dating.”
“Maybe she’s not looking to date,” her husband and my team leader, Rafe, offers. “She might just want to enjoy the evening with someone.”
“But she said she was going to check out the music with me,” Bea says. “And the magic show.” She touches Indy’s arm to get her fiancé’s attention. “Why would she tell me that if she intended to go off with that slimy-looking guy?”
“I’m not sure,” Indy replies. He drums his prosthetic fingers on the table. “She could have changed her mind, I suppose. But it does seem strange.”
“Yara told me she’s not interested in dating,” Noelle adds. “Last time we all met up in Seattle, some guy hit on her at the bar, and she sent him packing. Then she told me she’s happier being single. That her life is busy enough as is.”
“Sometimes people get lonely,” Tyler suggests. His gaze drops to his ring finger, where there’s just the faintest hint of a pale strip of skin where his wedding band used to be. Then he shrugs. “Living alone, working all the time… maybe she’s lonely.”
A sharp pang hits my chest.
Is she lonely?
I hadn’t thought about it before, but it’s possible.
Shit, I feel lonely sometimes, and I live with seven other people.
Well, not technically—I have my own apartment—but living at the Blade and Arrow headquarters with my four teammates and three of their partners ensures I never have too much time alone.
Yara, on the other hand…
What do I know about her life in Seattle, really?
I know she puts in long hours at DynaTech Northwest, the robotics company she works for.
I know she teaches a robotics class once a week at the local community college.
I know she has a workshop in her garage, where she spends most of her weekends on her own inventions, like the specially-modified prosthetic Indy wears.
But does she go out with friends? Does she date? Does Yara hit the bars every once in a while just to find companionship for the night, like I do?
My jaw clenches at the thought.
It shouldn’t matter to me if Yara dates. But shit. It does.
“Yara mentioned something about a mission,” I tell my friends. “And taking MOMP down.”
Webb gives me a curious look. “MOMP?”
“The most obnoxious man on the planet,” I explain. “The guy sitting next to her. She texted saying she was on a mission to take him down. And that she might need backup and to wait for her call.”
Rafe stiffens. His chin lifts. “Backup?”
“Yeah.” I look at my phone again. “She said she was on the move, and would text with the final—”
Fuck.
What am I doing?
If one of my teammates announced some sort of vague plan, I’d insist on the details. I’d want to be right there, if not within sight, within hearing distance, at least. I’d want to be close enough to jump in if needed.
No, Yara isn’t on my team. But she’s my friend. And being a Green Beret makes her part of my extended family.
And shit, I really, really don’t like thinking about her alone with that guy. Even if she can handle herself, she shouldn’t have to.
Grabbing my phone, I push my seat back and stand. “I’m going to check things out. Maybe it’s fine, but…”
“You getting a feeling?” Webb asks. His expression is solemn.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I don’t like it. She tells me she can’t stand the guy, then she heads off arm in arm with him. And this mission? Whatever it is, I don’t want to wait to find out.”
Bea gnaws on her lip. Her brows pull into a worried V. “Do you think something’s wrong, Ace?”
“Probably not,” I assure her, more to keep Bea from worrying than anything else. “But I’d feel better taking a look around for her. Just to be sure.”
Rafe meets my gaze. “I can go with you.”
“Give me a few minutes head start. That way if she is hooking up with the guy”—-my molars grind—“we won’t all come swarming in en masse and embarrass her.”
Tyler nods. “I’ll figure out who the guy is. See if there are any red flags.”
“Sounds good,” I reply. Given that Tyler is Shadow Team’s resident tech genius, I’m certain he’ll find out in minutes.
“Do you think she recognized him from somewhere?” Indy asks. “He doesn’t look like former military, but I guess it’s possible…”
Another glance at my phone tells me it’s been seven minutes since Yara’s last message. Which isn’t long in the scheme of things, but when my gut is shouting warnings and my instincts are tingling? It feels like longer.
“I’m going,” I say. “Stay on standby. I’ll text as soon as I know anything.”
My four teammates nod in unison. “Got it.”
Just before I leave the table, Eden lightly touches my arm. “Ace. Do you think… could he have done something to her?”
My stomach lurches.
Could he?
But she texted. Said she had a plan.
Stupid Ace, a voice in the back of my head scolds. Plans can always go sideways. You should know better than most the truth of that.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I tell Eden. My confidence sounds false, even to me. “Don’t worry.”
And on that note, I flash everyone at the table a thin smile before turning to leave. As I weave through the crowded banquet hall, I send Yara another message.
Hey. Everything okay? Where are you?
There’s no response.
Not right away, and not by the time I reach the hallway, where a cluster of catering staff are cleaning up a large mess of broken glass and dishware scattered across the floor.
As I head in that direction, one of the staff members notices me and holds up his hand. “Don’t come this way, sir. It’s not safe.”
Undeterred, I keep moving in his direction. “Sir,” he starts, “it’s not safe—”
“I’m fine,” I interrupt. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you’ve seen her?”
Unease flickers in the man’s eyes widen as he looks up at me. I’m used to it by now—being six-four and weighing in at two-twenty, most of it muscle, a lot of people are intimidated by me at first. Sometimes, I feel bad about it. But in this case, I’m using it to my full advantage.
“Um.” He takes a step back, nearly putting his foot in a large puddle of spilled coffee. “I haven’t been paying attention, really. I’ve just been helping clean up.”
“I’m looking for a woman,” I reply. “You would have noticed if you’d seen her. She’s wearing a long dress, kind of greenish-gold colored. Like the color—”
Shit. He doesn’t need to know that her dress matches the color of her eyes—a deep green cast with gold, like a grassy field at sunrise.
“She has long, brown hair,” I add. “And she’s tall for a woman. About five-eight. Pretty.”
More than pretty, really. But that’s not relevant right now.
The catering employee shakes his head. “I just got out here. I haven’t seen anyone like that.” Then he glances at his two coworkers. “Did either of you?”
I pin the two other men with a steady gaze. “Have you seen her? She might have been with a man. He has black hair, heavy eyebrows, kind of… arrogant.”
One of the other men nods. “I saw her. And the guy.”
“And?”
“They looked cozy,” he replies with a smirk. “Are you sure you want to interrupt?” A beat and then, “Shit. Is she your girlfriend? Is she cheating on you?”
“No.” My voice is sharp. No nonsense. “She isn’t. And I need to know which way she went. Now.”
The guy gulps as I move closer to loom over him. His face pales. “They went that way,” he says quickly. Gesturing to the right, he adds, “Towards the north wing.”
“What’s in the north wing?” I ask.
The third employee speaks up. “Small meeting rooms. Dressing rooms they use for weddings. It’s supposed to be closed to attendees, but I’m not telling anyone that. Not my business.”
“Good.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Thanks.” Then I hurry off in the direction he pointed, my anxiety increasing by the second.
It could be nothing, I remind myself. She could be fine.
But I just have this feeling.
Maybe it’s just paranoia, like I’ve experienced before.
Or maybe it’s something, and Yara needs my help.