The evening continues much the same way. Rena commandeers the music selection, Gage and Ivy cook up a storm, Celeste kicks our asses in a poker game while we’re waiting for dinner to be done, and even Felicity beams through our meal.
While we’re all pitching in for cleanup, Wells gets a call right as I notice a missed one.
“Vargas?” I ask, shooting a look over at him.
His eyebrows pinch as he glides his fingers over his lips. “Yeah.”
Calling both of us within minutes is never a good sign. My chest tightens. It’s been three weeks since Vargas covered up the houseful of burned foot soldiers. No way he’s run into a problem now. If he has, it’s because someone knows something.
Wells answers with a, “What’s up?” His mind is surely swerving to the same concern mine is.
“I’m with Ty. Give me a minute.” He waves a hand and ushers me to follow him into an office down the hall, setting the phone on the desk and switching Vargas to speaker. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve got a girl,” Vargas says, surprising me. “She’s … in bad shape. It’s a fucking mess, and I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’d like you to take her for me.”
The relief I should feel for this call not having anything to do with the unfortunate night I took out the wrong guys doesn’t come. Stabbing pain lances through my lungs, my fists tighten, and my heart pounds—the aching reactions my body always assumes when we field these requests.
“Why can’t you handle it?” Wells asks, which is valid.
Vargas has the resources to erase someone, just like we do. We’re better, and we have the means to harbor her in the shelter, but he’d handle it fine.
A tremulous sigh precedes his explanation. “She’s connected. And wanted by the Bureau. It’s too risky for me. And frankly, for her. It’s not a cut-and-dry case. I’m a logical lead for the motherfuckers hunting her, so …” He hedges a second before tacking on, “I got a goddamn agent dead.”
“Shit,” I mutter as Wells’s alarm coats his features.
Connected. Wanted. Agent dead.
Messy doesn’t cover it. Sounds like she’s a snitch, which means we’re stepping onto a battlefield. It also insinuates we’re up against someone with hefty resources, or Vargas wouldn’t be reluctant in managing this himself.
“And we’re not in conflict?” I probe.
There isn’t much to keep us from extricating a woman in trouble. But if she’s somehow at odds with KORT, our hands are tied.
“No,” he responds. “All clear.”
Cognizant that we can’t ask much more over the phone because you just never fucking know, Wells jumps to expectations. “Time frame for retrieval?”
“Next twenty-four hours would be appreciated.” Vargas’s voice has anxiety woven through it, elevating mine.
What the hell is he looking at?
“Fuck,” I hiss, wishing I could be there, but this is the worst fathomable time. My teeth chomp into my cheek as my hand drags down my face. “I’ve got—”
Wells throws his palm up to me. “I’ll get her.”
That’s unusual. Even in our erasing days, pickup was primarily my domain for these cases. It’s often like coaxing a wounded animal into safety. If they’ve been beaten or battered, it’s inconceivable for them to believe we aren’t a predator who will become yet another villain in their story.
I’d like to object, but we’ve got a week or less until the shitstorm of Rena’s loyalty test for KORT. This isn’t the time to be globetrotting for a rescue mission.
“She’s a rough one,” Vargas adds. “She … I’ll prep her, but it won’t be easy.”
That only compounds my conflict. I bury my face in my hands, vanquished by a phone call. This is as good as it fucking gets with us. Singing in the kitchen to abandoning a battered woman because I have to put my own girl through hell.
“Send me an encrypted link with the location,” Wells orders. “I’ll head out tonight.” He ends the call, the rustle of his crinkling Skittles bag filling the room.
“I should be the one going,” I murmur, watching him pluck out the reds and yellows.
It’s odd, the things we attach ourselves to so we can harness little nuggets of peace. The sour treat is only part of it for him. I thinkhe enjoys the sifting just as much. An element of control when everything else is spinning out of reach.
