“Jay trusts Diane Heughan.”
“Adam doesn’t. She may be his mother, but she’s always put her career and country first. And after the colonel…”
“Christ, you think she had something to do with Colonel Grayson’s murder?”
“No idea.” Zander shrugged. “All we have are the facts. Adam’s father was alive before going to Washington to speak to his ex-wife about Johnson’s plot to win the presidential election. Less than twelve hours later, he was gunned down in the street. The only thing I know for sure is we can’t trust anyone who isn’t JTT.”
“Jesus.” Jamie blew out a hard breath. “There’s no unraveling this mess. Pull one thread, and the knots get tighter and tighter.” He frowned and ran both hands through his hair, gathering the long strands into a loose ball and securing it with the elastic from his wrist. He had a physio session with Eve in ten minutes and needed it out of his face. “How the fuck do I protect Halia and Summer when I don’t even know where half the threats are coming from?”
“Hate to be the one to tell you this.” Zander stood and clapped Jamie on the shoulder. “But you keep them close, and you rely on your team. It’s all you can do. It’s all any of us can do. Chase knew from the start, the only way to keep Gray alive was to surround her with the people he trusted most. Johnson can’t get to her so long as we stick together. The same goes for Halia. And Summer too. They’re a part of this family. And we protect what’s ours.”
“What if we fuck up?” Jamie stood, and Zander grabbed the crutches leaning against the wall before handing them over.
“Then we trust in our faith to see us through.”
“You sound like your mother.” The US Army’s first female Chief of Chaplains, Major General Bernadette Cavanaugh, was an all-around kick-ass human being.
Jamie had only met her once and had never forgotten the encounter. She had a charismatic presence coupled with a quiet confidence stemming from her deep-seated faith in the Almighty.
A force for good, she might be one of the few people who could change his mind about a higher power. Although, with the shit he’d seen, convincing him of the existence of a fair and righteous God wouldn’t be an easy undertaking.
“That reminds me, she said to tell you she’s available if you want to talk about Ko.”
“Thanks.” Jamie crutched his way around his desk and followed Z to the door. “Tell her I appreciate the offer, but I’m good for now.”
A true statement. He’d been talking to Dr. Christina on a regular basis. He liked Nalini’s common-sense approach. And her one-day-at-a-time advice suited him well. Did he still wish he could trade places with Ko if it meant she got to live? Yes. Did he still want to put a bullet between Johnson’s eyes in retribution for her death? Also, yes.
But murderous impulses aside, he’d made good gains, with his mobility and mental health improving daily. He felt stronger than he had in months, and yeah, he had his team to thank for that.
Fucking JTT assholes were right. About a lot of things. Were they right about Summer and Halia too? Could keeping them close be the safest thing?
For his girls—maybe.
For him—hell no.
* * *
Summer’s head swam,and she wanted to hang up the phone. Press end on the conversation with Melanie, and pretend it never happened. Why she still bothered with the calls remained a mystery. Habit maybe? An unconscious desire for some kind of connection with her only biological relative?
Whatever the reason, it didn’t serve her well. “I’m not going to go see Marla Wagner. I don’t care how much she’s offering to pay meorgive you. I’m happy where I am, and I’m not leaving.”
She heard a snort and didn’t need to open her eyes to know Jamie had come in and overheard her conversation. Not his fault. She was lying on the rug in his bedroom. “I have to go,” she said. “My boss just came in. I’ll call you next week.” She didn’t wait for a response before double-tapping her thumb against the screen.
“Why are you on the floor?” Jamie asked.
“I’m contemplating painting a mural on the ceiling.” To emphasize her point, she might have waved her arm above her head, but she didn’t have the energy reserves required to make the effort. Instead, she dropped her hand onto her stomach, her phone still clutched in her fist.
Her deflection met with silence; she had the sneaking suspicion her interrogator wasn’t amused by her sense of humor. In fact, she’d bet he had a decent scowl going.
“Summer,” he growled. “If you don’t tell me why you’re on the floor right now, I promise you, I’m going to spank your ass but good.”
“Fine.” She sighed, knowing he probably meant every word and not hating the idea of Jamie’s handprint on her butt cheek. “I was painting the nursery and needed a break from the fumes, so I came in here to call my mother, but I got a little woozy and had to lie down.”
“Woozy?”
“Yeah, I’m hypoglycemic, and when my blood sugar is low, I tend to get light-headed.”
“Look at me,” he ordered.
