Given all of that, the team had mobilized. Everyone had grabbed a screen, a map, or a laptop. They’d analyzed, scanned, and filtered until finally, after a few tense hours, they’d whittled down the options where Sabrina was being held to six possible locations.
“Six needles in a haystack full of nightmares,” Hew had muttered, chewing the inside of his cheek and radiating fury as Ozzie queued up satellite surveillance on all six sites.
Then had come the prep. Weapons had been polished. Magazines had been loaded. Radios had been checked with a kind of ease that didn’t belong in the middle of Chicago.
And what had she done through it all, you may ask?
Well, besides answering her boss’s texts, she’d mostly stayed out of the way.
That and watched Graham Coleburn more than I’ll ever admit to anyone.
“I’ll admit,” she told him now, “I was shocked to walk through that door and come face-to-face with someone from back home.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Ya didn’t know?”
“Leonard Meadows made it very clear I wasn’t to go snooping around about this organization.” She waved a hand to indicate the old factory building. “It already stuck in his craw that I found out you guys exist. It would have sent him into an apoplectic fit if I’d asked who worked here.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, weather-worn lines that showed the years that had passed and all the sunrises he’d squinted into since the last time she’d seen him. “That must’ve nearly killed ya, bein’ such an inquisitive little thing.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I was nearly six feet by the tenth grade, Graham. I have never been little.”
He looked her over slowly. Not in a crude way. In an appreciative way that made her stomach flip and her knees go wobbly.
“Always did like tall women.” His voice was as soft and as hot as the sand on Tybee Island right before sunset.
Is he…flirting with me? she wondered, feeling fifteen all over again.
Is Clayton, Georgia’s golden boy—the homecoming king himself—actually looking at me and seeing something he likes?
Before she could recover enough to fire back something flirty or clever—oh, who was she kidding? Her brain had short-circuited. She couldn’t have come up with a pithy retort to save her life—he cleared his throat and stuck out a hand.
“Thank you, Lura.” The teasing was gone from his tone. Now, it was all business. “For comin’ all this way.”
His hand was large and warm. She felt every rough edge of callus against her skin and had a fleeting thought of what it would be like to have those big, square hands skating over her body.
“Glad I could help.” She quickly withdrew her fingers lest she actually swoon. “And I’m glad I got to see you again, Graham. I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”
His gaze sharpened. “Have ya now?”
“Sure.” She tried to play it cool with a shrug. “I wondered what happened to you when you disappeared. Now, I know. Mystery solved.”
His lips parted, and she held her breath, waiting for…what? What did she want him to say?
But then his attention flicked over her shoulder. “Your Uber’s here.” He nodded toward the television on the brick wall beside the door. It showed security footage of the front gate.
She glanced around to see a black SUV nosing to the curb next to the guardhouse. When she looked back at Graham, his implacable expression had fallen into place.
“Well,” she cleared her throat. “You all be careful out there tonight.”
His cheek muscles moved slightly. She supposed it was what passed for a smile. “Careful is my middle name,” he said.
“Really?” She canted her head. “I seem to remember it being Alexander.”
His eyebrows shot up.
Yes, I remember your middle name, she thought. I remember everything about you.
She turned before she could say anything else—anything foolish—opened the door, and stepped into the thick summer night. As the heavy metal shut behind her, a question curled like smoke inside her.
