Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
“If you don’t feel up to this, we can—”
“What?” Chelsea cut him off. “We can what?”
Josiah dragged his fingers through his hair. He’d been right to want to keep Chelsea as far away from this mess as he could. This plan would have been so much easier if he was working it alone. So he didn't have to worry about anyone else. The last time he’d worked in the field with a team …
They all wound up dead.
Slaughtered.
Their bodies riddled with bullet holes. Empty eyes staring at nothing. Still. Too still.
Dragging in a somewhat shuddering breath, he forced himself to remember that Chelsea would not wind up like that. As much as he hated her being part of this in any way other than her sitting safe and sound at Prey in front of her computer, there was no way she would wind up shot to death.
It wasn't what these people did.
Both of them were wearing the same trackers Teresa had used to lead them to her when the trafficking ring had been targeting her.
Knowing Chelsea would be rescued promptly if the worst happened and they were abducted, didn't seem to still the churning anxiety in his gut.
Taking care of Chelsea last night when she felt sick had forced him to accept the fact that while maybe he was ready to be back in the field if he was alone, there was no way he was ready to deal with a team. He should never have allowed Prey to agree to let Chelsea be part of this with him.
There were ways he could have disregarded his boss’ wishes.
Like disappearing, going off-grid, or taking what he knew and making his own attempts to get a meeting with Desiree Tilly.
The worst that could have happened was that he lost his job, and while he didn't think that would happen because he knew he had Eagle Oswald at his back, even if he had been fired, it wasn't the worst thing in the world.
He'd already lived through that.
“Look, Josiah, I know you don’t like that I'm here, and I'm not going to lie and say I'm not scared, because I am.”
Chelsea’s soft admission had his heart rate jumping up.
Her fear …
It affected him in ways he didn't like. Didn't want.
From the moment he first met her, he knew she was going to be trouble. There was something engaging about her, appealing, she drew him in even as he wanted to stand alone.
Alone was safe.
You couldn’t lose anyone if you were alone. There was no one to lose.
“You know how I can do this even though I'm scared?”
Shaking his head at her question was automatic.
A hand slipped into his, slim fingers curling around his own. “Because you're here. You won't let them hurt me.”
How could she have such honest faith in him?
There was no way she didn't know at least the basics about how his team had been slaughtered. If she knew, then she had to know he hadn't saved them. If he hadn't saved his team, there was every chance he wouldn't save her either.
“Mrs. Fleet.”
The nurse's call had them both standing. Despite how uncomfortable Josiah was with Chelsea’s unfounded confidence in him, he reached for her elbow to steady her, genuinely concerned about her ability to stay upright, even though she had assured him this morning that she was feeling better than she’d been yesterday afternoon when she started taking the drugs.
The problem was, she looked sick. He had no idea if she’d used makeup or something to create the effect or if it was genuine. That bothered him. How was he supposed to take care of her if he didn't know what signs were real and what weren't?
What happened if he failed her, too?
“We’re here,” Chelsea called out, placing her hand over the one he had gripping her elbow, likely way too tightly. She squeezed once, then leaned in and murmured, “We can do this, Josiah. I can do this. Scared or not, I am capable of playing this role. Have a little faith in me.”
The thing was, it had nothing to do with having faith in her abilities or lacking it. When he was still a SEAL, he’d put his life in the hands of his team, he’d never once doubted their ability to watch his six the same way he watched theirs. Despite that trust, that faith, he’d still lost them.
Wishing there was any way he could do this doctor’s visit without Chelsea by his side, they both followed the nurse down a short corridor and into the doctor’s office.
It was a different room from the one they’d met in yesterday, but it was supposed to be a visit with the same doctor.
The falsified medical records that Prey had put together showed that Chelsea had been declining for months, and that the Prey doctor she’d been seeing—who didn't really exist—had referred her to the hospital because she had progressed to the point of needing a transplant.
There was every chance that the trafficking ring wouldn't buy that any of this was real, and he still believed he would have had a better shot at doing this alone, but they were here now, and they would have to sell this story with everything they had.
Both he and Chelsea faltered slightly when they entered the room the nurse guided them to, and found a different man sitting behind the desk.
The man was older, close to retirement age, he was thin, almost too thin, completely bald, and wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that accentuated his almost birdlike beak of a nose.
He was one of them.
The calculating gleam in the doctor’s blue eyes as he gave them both a scrutinizing once over told Josiah everything he needed to know. This doctor was here to feel them out and see if they might be open to the idea of getting an organ through the trafficking ring.
That, or he was here to try to set them up.
Whatever play the ring was making, he and Chelsea were in too deep to just back out.
Not that it seemed like Chelsea wanted to anyway.
“Oh, you're not Dr. Marcus,” she said, her tone perfectly confused, whether on purpose or because she was genuinely confused, he had no idea.
Maybe he should have gotten to know Chelsea a little better before they jumped into this, because he was finding it almost impossible to read the woman, and that could spell disaster.
“Dr. Marcus had to pass this case on to me,” the man said, rising and walking around his desk. “I'm Dr. Wood. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fleet, Mr. Fleet.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Chelsea said with a gracious smile, holding out her hand to shake the doctor’s.
Josiah merely grunted. They weren't undercover as different people, so he didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't. All he had to do was be himself and pretend that he was in love with Chelsea.
“Is Dr. Marcus okay? He’s not ill or anything?
He seemed okay yesterday, and again when he called early this morning to set up another appointment, so I do hope he hasn’t been in an accident or anything,” Chelsea said.
There was nothing in her tone that indicated she was feeling the fear she’d mentioned to him not even two minutes ago.
Seemed she was braver than she gave herself credit for.
“He’s fine. I actually asked to take over this case after viewing your file.
Dr. Marcus specializes more in the treatment of kidney diseases, but I'm a transplant specialist, Mrs. Fleet,” the man said with what Josiah could only consider to be fake sympathy.
The gleam in his eyes remained calculating and predatory.
If he had to guess, Josiah would say that Dr. Wood went through files at the hospital looking for prospective buyers.
People who might have the means to pay for a black-market organ.
Unfortunately, he still wasn't sure if it was because he genuinely believed they might buy one despite them working for Prey, or the ring was trying to play their own game.
“O-oh,” Chelsea stammered, sounding totally shocked, and this time he knew she was faking.
Damn, she was one hell of an actress.
Wide gray eyes turned to look up at him, before returning to the doctor. “Does that m-mean you think I-I need a t-transplant?”
“Please, come and sit, Mrs. Fleet, and we can discuss everything in more detail,” Dr. Wood said, oozing fake charm as he once again reached for Chelsea’s hand.
This time, Josiah had to force himself not to rip the man’s arm right off.
Nobody touched Chelsea without her permission.
If she hadn't darted out her free hand to grasp his, he might very well have done something stupid, but her touch grounded him, soothed the roughest edges of the rage that boiled constantly inside him.
“I know you're scared, Josiah, I am too, but we should listen to the doctor before we panic,” Chelsea said, her voice like a cool wave crashing over him, subduing a little more of his red-hot fury
Not trusting himself to speak without growling at the doctor to get his hands off Chelsea, he merely nodded and placed his hand in the small of her back to guide her toward the desk.
They were halfway there when she wobbled.
Josiah was already reaching for her when it happened.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed.
May 13th
10:03 A.M.
They had him.
Chelsea was positive of that.
This Dr. Wood guy was here to feel them out, see if they might be willing to purchase an organ from the trafficking ring.
If he was involved in the ring, they needed to get this office bugged.
The more intel they could give to Prey, the better their chances at getting to Desiree Tilly and dismantling the entire operation.
What better way to get a few moments alone than to fake faint?
As she knew he would, Josiah’s arms caught her before she hit the floor, and he scooped her up, cradling her with a gentleness that might have surprised anyone else, but not her. She’d always known, under the layers of anger he’d covered himself with was a big heart hidden away.
“Put her down here,” Dr. Wood said, and Josiah carried her a few steps before setting her down in what was likely one of the chairs at the desk they’d been heading for anyway.