Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Reed sat at Jackie’s farmhouse table, drinking his third cup of coffee since arriving. He was starting to get the jitters. The fire crackled in the next room. Outside the sliding glass door, the afternoon light fell across the green grass and distant mountains.
Siren and Jackie had disappeared down the hall ten minutes ago, leaving him alone in the dining room. His bear paced beneath his skin, irritated and anxious.
He looked down at the documents spread across the table. Their new identities were Sarah and Michael Phillips. They had driver’s licenses, credit cards, and a backstory. It was everything they’d need to become different people.
Jackie came back down the hall without Siren and grabbed her coffee cup from the table. She went to the pot and refilled her mug, then leaned against the counter facing him.
“She’ll be a few more minutes. I think the makeover is giving her an identity crisis. But Siren’s been deep cover before. I’m sure she can handle it.” Jackie chuckled.
Reed nodded, studying Jackie across the room.
“You’re handling this all well,” she said.
“Siren already gave me the speech about how civilians usually fall apart under pressure.”
“I mean being protected by your mate… You’re female mate.”
“How could you tell?” he asked, his bear so agitated he’d failed to scent Jackie as a shifter.
“I’m a hawk shifter. I had a mate once. He and I. We were a lot like you two.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re kind of a soft guy. No offense. My late husband was an analyst. I was in the military for thirty years. Siren and I have a lot in common. She’s an operator. She’s good at violence. Good at keeping people alive.”
Jackie took a sip of her coffee. “Most women like her have a hard time letting anyone get close.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said, nibbling some banana bread crumbs.”
“You have to understand. For her, letting someone get close means being vulnerable. And being vulnerable gets people killed in our line of work.” She shrugged. “It just is what it is.”
“What should I do?” he asked, hopelessness crowding out reason.
“Be patient. Be steady and useful. Don’t make her feel like she has to protect herself from you too.”
He heard footsteps on the hardwood just before Siren turned the corner into the kitchen.
She was wearing a tropical print sundress with spaghetti straps.
Her hair was styled in soft waves around her shoulders.
It looked like an outfit Holly or Ivy would wear.
The contrast between how he’d seen her before and this had his mouth dropping in shock.
“Don’t,” she said pointedly, her sharp eyes like a blade.
“I didn’t…”
“You’re face did the talking.”
“You look… different. Gorgeous. I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to think.
Siren in dark jeans, leather, and aviator sunglasses did him in. He couldn’t stop fantasizing about her. Couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like for her to place her deadly hands on him. But seeing her in this feminine outfit, it was doing something crazy to his inner beast.
“You look really cute,” he finally managed.
“I look like someone who won’t get a second glance at a rest stop. Which is the point.”
“Right. It’s good cover. Very convincing.” He paused, barely able to look at her. “Sarah Phillips seems like a lovely woman. Very approachable.”
He stood, walking toward her slowly, like he couldn’t help himself. Her shoulders were bare and her hair looked so soft. His inner bear kept demanding he touch her, feel the smoothness of her pale skin.
Jackie broke the spell from behind him. “Reed, you already read as non-threatening. Just lean into it.”
Siren closed the distance between them and cupped his face in her hand. “Poor Michael. So harmless,” she said in a low voice, staring into his eyes.
“Maybe on the outside. But I’m a beast underneath,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What’s Garrett Cole actually like,” Siren said, turning her attention back to Jackie and breaking the spell.
Jackie crossed the room and sat at the kitchen table. “Paranoid. Well-armed. Not friendly. You need to remain on guard. I suggest you approach as Siren rather than Sarah.”
“Understood.”
“He’s also smart and connected. If anyone has information about which outfit is running these mercenary operations like the one you recorded, it’s him.”
After Siren packed up the rest of her new outfits, Jackie led them both outside through the sliding glass door in the kitchen. The afternoon had turned golden, the shadows lengthening across the property.
They took the short path down to the shop and Jackie rolled up the bay door to reveal a white camper van.
“The registration matches your IDs,” Jackie said. “Nevada plates. There’s a small kitchen, sleeping for two, storage underneath. You can cook inside, sleep inside, stay off the radar.”
“Let’s get loaded up,” Siren said, tossing Reed the keys to the SUV. “Drive it over, and we’ll transfer my gear.”
He did as he was asked. And the three of them began to move the hard cases into the van’s rear storage. They contained Siren’s tactical bags. The first aid kit. The camping equipment they’d used in the mountains.
He grabbed his backpack, duffel bag, and guitar case and transferred them to the van. Jackie handed the keys to Siren. She then looked at Reed.
“Remember what we talked about,” she said with a wink.
“I will.”
Siren closed up the back door of the van and tossed the van keys to Reed. “You drive, hubby. Sarah is a passenger princess.”
Jackie chuckled as Siren climbed into the passenger side of the van. “Thanks for everything,” she said, closing the door.
Reed got behind the wheel and pulled out of the shop. Jackie gave them a salute as he passed, a smirk on her lips.
“Where are we headed, honey?” he asked, enjoying the facade.
“Just make your way back to the highway.”
Reed glanced in the rearview mirror. Jackie’s property receded behind them. When he got to the highway, he turned south. Miles passed. Green hills. Fencing. Cattle grazing in the distance.
“So. How long have we been married? What’s the backstory?”
“College sweethearts. Married six years. No kids.”
“What class did we meet in?” he asked, enjoying building the fantasy.
“Biology 101. You asked me to study for the final.”
“That’s a good move. Michael Phillips has game.”
He glanced at her, his hands steady on the wheel. Her mouth almost curved into a smile.
“Don’t let it go to your head.”