Chapter 9
If Cole had a dollar for every time he’d been dragged into an unmarked van, had a black bag shoved over his head, was driven to an undisclosed location and cuffed to a metal chair…well, he’d have two dollars. Which wasn’t much, but it was weird that it’d happened twice.
On some level, he’d known this day would come. Operators like him didn’t usually stay alive long enough to retire. And if they did, they were never allowed to go completely free. Most—if not all—of them had “unfortunate accidents” shortly after they left their jobs.
Unless they blackmailed their boss like Cole had.
So, he wasn’t shocked that he’d been swept up. If it was his time to die, he could accept that. What he couldn’t accept was that Hadley had been dragged into his mess.
He couldn’t see her, what with the bag over his head and all, but he could feel her presence, smell her citrusy perfume, next to him. She was quiet, though. Way too quiet.
He’d reach out to her if his wrist wasn’t cuffed to a damn chair. But he stretched out his pinkie as far as he could. He felt her flinch when he made contact with her skin. “It’s going to be OK, Hadley,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
She didn’t say anything. He could barely hear her breathing. That’s how quiet she was. But after a pause long enough to make him deeply uncomfortable, she wrapped her own pinkie around his.
He let out a deep sigh of relief. She hadn’t completely shut down after everything she’d been through. Thank God. He could deal with anything else, but seeing this woman, this ray of sunlight, broken by trauma and fear was more than he could bear.
“Aw, that’s so sweet. Didn’t know you had it in you, Clayton.”
Fuuuccckkk. He knew that voice.
That’s when the bag was ripped off his head and he was face-to-face with someone he happily would’ve avoided the rest of his life.
His chin hit his chest. “Franklin.”
“You remember me. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. I have an eidetic memory. Couldn’t forget you if I wanted to. And believe me, I want to forget you.”
Franklin Ross hadn’t changed much since Cole had last seen him.
Same ill-fitting, cheap brown suit. Same pot belly and half-balding head of pale brown hair.
Same unkempt mustache that looked like it’d been ripped directly from a 70s porno and slapped on his sweaty, fat face.
Yep. Franklin was still one ugly motherfucker.
It was just Cole’s unfortunate luck that Franklin wasn’t as stupid as he was ugly.
Franklin had been second in command on all of Cole’s missions. And while Cole had unearthed a plethora of dirt on the big boss, Franklin had always managed to stay clean. He wasn’t clean, of course. He was just smart enough not to leave evidence behind.
Which was probably how Franklin was sitting here now, clearly in charge of dark ops.
Franklin leaned over and pulled the bag off Hadley’s head. She blinked owlishly at him before turning her eyes to Cole. He didn’t say anything, but he gave her a tiny nod, hoping she’d take it as a sign that she’d make it out of this mess. He’d make damn sure of it. Even if Franklin had to die.
Hell, especially if Franklin had to die. That’s what Cole would consider a win-win scenario.
“You have an eidetic memory?” Hadley whispered.
Which was a strange question to ask in their current situation.
Even Cole recognized that. He imagined most people who’d had the kind of night she’d had would be catatonic or hysterical by now.
So, the only conclusion he could make was that while Hadley was gorgeous, brave, and a fighter, she was also weird as fuck.
He wished he didn’t find all that insanely attractive.
But he did.
“Yeah. Although, technically, that’s not why I remember Franklin here so well. Having an eidetic memory just means I can recall an image precisely even when it’s not present. But the memories don’t last that long. Franklin was just such an asshole that he’d be impossible to forget.”
“That’s so cool! I always kind of wondered how easy someone with a memory like that could clean up in Vegas, you know? Kind of like that movie—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Franklin shouted, pounding his fist down on the table in front of them with enough force to make Hadley flinch.
“This isn’t social hour. Clayton, you know as well as I do that your deal with the government was very specific.
If you get so much as a speeding ticket, you’ll spend the rest of your days in a pit in Guantanamo Bay. ”
“Good thing I haven’t gotten any speeding tickets,” he intoned, his voice flat as week-old diet Coke.
Franklin snorted. “Two dead men in your neighbor’s foyer definitely counts as a violation of the terms of your early retirement.”
Hadley’s brow furrowed. “Retirement? Government deal? What’s he talking about, Cole?”
Shit. His story was not something he was eager to tell Hadley. If she knew too much about him, she’d stop trusting him. Or looking at him like he was her hero.
He really liked it when she looked at him like that.
Franklin, however, was all too willing to ruin Cole’s day.
“You know those stories you hear on the news when a foreign dictator is mysteriously toppled? Or when our government somehow ends up with an enemy’s top-secret data?
Well, chances are, if that shit happened in the last decade—up until last year, of course—your friend Cole, here, had something to do with that. ”
But much to his surprise—and Franklin’s—Hadley didn’t react like either of them expected. She shifted her wide eyes to Cole and said, “I knew it! You’re Jason fucking Bourne!”
He could’ve gone on for days about all the things that were inaccurate in the Bourne movies and books. Instead, Cole turned his attention to a now scowling Franklin. “How did you even know I killed those guys? Have I been under surveillance? Because that would also be a violation of our agreement.”
He’d agreed not to turn over the dirt he had on Franklin’s boss in exchange for his complete freedom. That meant no one in the government was allowed to check up on him unless he’d committed some kind of crime, which he hadn’t. Well, until tonight, at least.
Franklin leaned forward, clasping his pudgy hands in front of him. “That’s the beauty of this whole thing. No one was surveilling you. She was the target.”
“Me?” Hadley asked. “Why would anyone care what I’m doing?”
Well, Cole cared. He cared about everything she did.
But he imagined his interest in Hadley was different from the CIA’s.
“I’m betting it has something to do with your date.
His family is Irish mafia. I’m sure the FBI wanted him to inform on them.
He wouldn’t. So, they turned to you. Probably thought you’d agree to gather info and testify against them.
The CIA only got involved when I showed up and broke the guy’s arm the other night.
Their interests would trump the FBI’s in that case, since I’m a Homeland Security risk.
I assume Franklin’s been watching since then. ”
Franklin gave him a slow clap. “Well done. Glad to see you’re not rusty after your extended vacay.”
Cole would’ve given him the finger, but that would’ve required letting go of Hadley’s hand and fuck that. But Franklin’s confirmation of how things went down did bring to mind one question. “So, you were watching her house tonight, right?”
Hadley sat up straighter when Franklin stayed quiet. “Wait…you were watching tonight? When those fuckers broke into my house, held me down in my bed, and threatened to sex traffic me if I didn’t agree to marry Darren? Then again when he tried to kill me in my own foyer? Why didn’t you stop him?”
Franklin had the grace to at least look a little regretful, but not enough grace to apologize.
The cowardly asshole kept his mouth shut.
It was Cole who answered, “Because they didn’t care what happened to you.
If he killed you, the FBI would have the leverage they needed to flip Darren against his family.
If I showed up and saved you, the CIA would have leverage against me.
It was a win-win for both agencies. You were just a pawn. ”
The look of hurt and betrayal on Hadley’s face really clarified one fact for Cole.
He was going to destroy Franklin. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually. And it was going to be slow and painful. Of that Cole was sure.
Thankfully, though, the emotions on Hadley’s face quickly shifted from pain to rage. Her rage was way easier for Cole to handle. Mostly because he found it unbearably hot.
Hadley’s lip curled in disgust as she regarded Franklin right before she said, “Well, in that case…I hope you choke on a giant bag of dicks, you itchy, flaming, syphilitic asshole.”
The rusty, choked sound Cole let out was probably a laugh. But it had been so long since something amused him that he wasn’t sure. It felt like amusement, though. He glanced over at Franklin and caught the shell-shocked, offended look on his face.
Yep. That shit was hilarious.
Franklin cleared his throat. “Well. Um. None of that is relevant. What matters is that I own you now. Both of you.”
That effectively killed Cole’s amusement.
Fucking Franklin. He would’ve loved to bask in glow of the first thing that made him laugh in years, but no.
Here was Franklin to ruin his good time.
“You’ve got nothing on her and you know it.
And are you forgetting why the CIA let me go and I didn’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere?
It’s because I have proof of all the unsanctioned shit your boss did.
As soon as I disappear, I have fail safes in place that will push everything to the media.
After that, if I end up in Guantanamo, it’ll be in a cell right next to his.
Something tells me he’ll find a way to drag you down with him. ”
The bastard’s smug smirk made Cole itch to smash his face in.
“You can do that. And it’ll probably go down just like you said.
But when you and I disappear, the only one left to take the blame for killing those two men is her.
And I’ll make sure she looks damn guilty, Clayton.
How long do you think it’ll take for the Irish to come after her? ”
Cole’s blood ran cold. He was willing to die or rot in a pit for killing the men who hurt Hadley. He’d happily drag Franklin and his boss to hell with him. But leaving Hadley holding the bag for murders he’d committed?
Not fucking happening.
He narrowed his eyes on Franklin. “What do you want?”
Franklin chuckled. “Finally. About time you realized you’re not the one in charge this time.”
Hadley tugged on his pinkie with hers. “Don’t do it,” she hissed. “Whatever he wants, don’t do it. They can’t prove I killed those guys.”
He admired the hell out of her spirit. But she was so, so wrong.
“Oh, but we don’t just need him, Ms. Lockhart,” Franklin said, sounding way too smug for a man with as little time left on the planet as Cole would make sure this motherfucker had. “We need you, too.”
Cole’s chin hit his chest. And here he’d been thinking everything couldn’t get worse.