“She’ll be fine,” he said, low. “If not, I’ll burn Greenbriar myself.”
I nodded. “If she doesn’t come back, there won’t be enough left for you to burn.”
He laughed, the old scars around his mouth going white. “That’s my wolf.”
Arsenal passed me on the way out, gave me a look like he wanted to say something. Maybe sorry, maybe fuck you. Hard to tell with him.
Big Papa lingered by the door, massive arms hanging casually by his sides. “You got your work cut out, brother,” he said. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”
I grunted, but it wasn’t a dismissal. The youngest of us had a way of getting through the armor. Always did. He was the definition of a good man.
I left the war room, the cold following me out. The compound was dead quiet; the moon scraping the ground. I felt the wolf in my chest, pacing, ready to fight. Ready to kill. It was definitely time to let him out to run.
But mostly, I thought about the woman who’d turned my world upside down, headed into the heart of the enemy.
If anything happened to her, I’d end the world for it.
Dusk hit the plain like a bullet, and the wind carried the day’s cold straight through the skin. I parked my truck in Parker’s driveway and sat for several minutes. Her porch light was on, just a 40-watt bulb, but it burned through the blackout curtains in her front room like a warning flare.
I finally made my way to the door, knocked twice, and didn’t wait for an answer. Inside, her house smelled like dryer sheets and lavender. I hadn’t made it two steps before a little bundle of fur came tearing down the hall and right into my arms. She was running behind him, trying to pull a turtleneck sweater over her head. The hem was bunched at her chin, arms stuck overhead like a prisoner mid-surrender. I watched her wiggle free; pink and brunette bunches of hair fluffing out as if freed from prison as the neckline finally made it over her head.
I tucked the dog under my arm like a football, and he squirmed as I walked up to her to pull on the collar of her top so I could see the love bites I’d left on her shoulder andcollarbone. My wolf growled under my ribs with satisfaction. The bruises had faded, and while they weren’t claiming bites; they were mine. The turtleneck was high enough to hide the marks. She checked herself in the mirror.
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t notice any of these little bruises or hickies,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant.
She looked up at me, slightly panicked. “Shit. Do you think he’ll notice them?”
I dropped Rocket onto the sofa and drank in her scent. “I doubt he’ll be able to see them if you keep your hoodie zipped.” I told her as I nuzzled her neck. I was careful to keep my body off of hers. “I don’t want to put my scent anywhere on you.”
She stopped, then let her hands fall. “Damn it. That’s right. I almost forgot. I’d like to have your lips on me. Save it for later?” She gave me a look that told me she was determined to get this done and come back to me.
I stepped into the hall and leaned against the frame. “You ready?” I asked, but what I meant was, Are you scared?
“Yeah. Let’s go over it again, just in case I choke.”
We moved to the kitchen. She grabbed her bag and pulled out the micro-cams. How should I carry these?
I told her to just drop them in the easy-open case in her inside jacket pocket. She’d told me they’d never searched her. I just hoped that held true.
I picked up a micro-cam, turned it in my hand. “You remember the placement?”
“Five points,” she said, voice flat. “One on the bookshelf, one on the edge of the desk, one on the corner of the credenza and his laptop, and one on the thermostat. I’ll activate them with a touch. Three seconds, max.”
She seemed confident. But getting the Trojan loaded was the most dangerous task. “While you’re showing him the dummy accounts that look like the drain on Iron Valor funds are on schedule, you’ll need to load the Trojan. It’s a risk since you have to do it onhis laptop, but as long as you’re casual about it and seem to be proud of the work you did, you can sell it.”
“I got it.” She gave her bravest smile.
I nodded, set the cam back in the tray. “If it goes sideways, you bail. Don’t look back.”
She gave a dry laugh. “I’m not a hero, Eli. If it gets ugly, I’m gone.”
“You say that,” I said, “but you like the game too much.”
She looked up at me, blue eyes shining. “I like the game, but I like breathing more.”
I couldn’t argue. I took the burner phone and dialed the test line, held it up to my ear while it rang. On the fourth ring, a recording of Doc’s voice answered: “Code green. All clear. Next check at twenty hundred.” I killed the call.
“Let’s run it again,” I said.
