He was a hero who’d never wanted to be one.
Not like that. God, what he’d witnessed first-hand. The violence. The bloodshed. Kosamina dying right in front of him. Yeah, she could understand his preoccupation when it came to Halia’s safety. It was a reasonable response to the trauma he’d been through.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anywhere safer for Halia than with the people who loved her. The people who’d chosen her to be a part of their family. She’d had a rocky start to life, and the risks inherent in living with a special operations unit aside, Summer believed her Little Miss JTT had landed in the best possible place for her to be.
All she had to do now?
Prove to Jamie they belonged.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
“That one.”Zander turned the laptop screen toward Jamie and pointed to his selection. “The AD17 Blacktop.”
He leaned forward in his office chair to get a better look. “You sure?” He wanted to replace Summer’s Taylor guitar, but he wanted it to be the right one for her, and he didn’t know the first thing about the instrument or music in general.
“Yeah, she’s a sweet one. Balanced tones. Mid-range voice. Deeper low end. Perfect for Summer.”
“Is it as good as yours?” He’d heard Z play on occasion, and it had sounded good to him.
“Fuck no. Mine’s a cheap, out-of-tune Yamaha I picked up off Amazon because I wanted something to learn on. This guitar is a finely crafted instrument made for someone with Summer’s kind of talent.”
“She’s good?”
“Fuck no. She’s gifted. You haven’t heard her play?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re missing out. She can make any guitar sound good. Even mine. And her voice—Lady Gaga meets Johnny Cash—never heard anything like it. Fucking incredible. Ask her to sing ‘I Am One’ for you. She’ll rip your guts out and make you grateful she’s holding them in her hands.”
“‘I Am One’? Never heard of it.”
“That’s because she wrote it.”
“She writes her own songs too?”
“Yeah. I’m telling you. This girl’s got talent.”
A hit of jealousy nailed Jamie in the center of his chest. He hadn’t known about her musical ability. His fault. In the two weeks since he’d climbed into bed with her, he’d been so hell-bent on convincing her to leave, he hadn’t taken the time to get to know her better. A necessary precaution and a way to keep himself sane.
She was a temptation, a distraction from his purpose, and right now, he had to stay on task. Keep his mind focussed on what he needed to do, not what he wanted to do. And he wanted to do Summer. Bad.
With his dick hyper-fixated on his little pixie, his brain spent way too much time thinking about all the ways he wanted to fuck her. He had to get her squirreled away. Soonest. Somewhere he couldn’t smell her addictive scent, see the heat in her gorgeous eyes, or hear her sweet voice telling him off. “How fast can you get it here?”
“There’s one in Bozeman. If you buy it today, we can have it shipped to Kalispell by noon tomorrow. I’m heading into town anyway, so I can pick it up. Does that work?”
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
“No problem. You know she plays the piano too?”
Jamie snorted. “Pianos aren’t portable.”
“You still on that kick?” Zander shook his head. “Look, Doc. I get why you’re nervous about Halia’s safety. Summer’s too. But right now, they live in a highly fortified house full of armed assholes, willing to throw themselves in front of any threat. Thereisno safer place for them to be. There’s no safer place for any of us to be. We’re stronger together. Better together. You send those girls away…who protects them then? If Johnson’s not above using a baby to get us to expose ourselves, how can you be so sure hiding them somewhere else reduces the risk? And if we take him out now? What then? We don’t know who his backers are or how they’ll react. There’re too many variables. Plus, we don’t know how Tak’s involved. We need more time. Just a couple more weeks to figure this shit out. Then we’ll know who we can trust, and we can make our move.”
Jamie wasn’t sure. Not about anything. Except for the fact, Jonas Johnson had to die. Unfortunately, Z had a point. They didn’t know who Johnson’s supporters were or what their end game was. “You think the CIA’s gonna play ball?”
They were meeting with CIA Deputy Director Diane Heughan later today for a full situational briefing. He hoped it would prove to be the beginning of the end to Johnson’s terror campaign.
“Fuck no. Those spooks can’t be trusted. They’ll tell us what they think we need to know and flat-out lie about the rest.”
