Dean, their resident former NSA-analyst, could find anyone’s electronic trail no matter how well they had tried to hide their digital breadcrumbs.That he’d come up with nothing was strange.
“I reached out to Marino’s lawyers this morning.They swear up and down that he hasn’t left New York.”
“What’s the assignment?She might be hiding from her ex, but she’s not going to resurface in her old life just because he found her.She could get in trouble for faking her death.”He worked over the angles.“Skipping out on the marshals, not testifying if she’d been compelled to by subpoena.There are possible tax issues…”
“Hayden wants you to set eyes on her.He wants to know what the hell is going on, and why the family can’t reach her, and he wants you to do it while keeping a low profile.”
“I bet.”
“Says he would do it himself if he could…”
“But he can’t.”Callum knew the life Hayden lived.It had been his life only a few months ago.
“This will probably be simple.She probably checked into a hotel and is watching trashy movies and bingeing on room service.That’s what I’d do if a nightmare ex showed up to scare me.”
“No, it’s not.You’d kick his ass.”
Vivian smiled and shrugged.“I might do both.”
“Okay, this is a stupid question, but since we have her contact information, what if I call her until she answers?Hell, I could leave a voicemail.‘Hey, I know you’re alive.You’re scaring your family.Let’s meet up.’No matter what she’s gone through, I don’t think she wants to scare them.”
“Be my guest.”Vivian frowned.She clicked her mouse, and the screen turned dark.“Something’s going on.If it looks like shit, and it smells like shit, it’s going to be a big pile of shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Give Dean another day to hunt down leads and send you the file.Then, after you find Grace and figure out the situation with the ex-husband, we can decide our next move.”
Callum pushed out of his chair.“I’d be good with stringing Dominic Marino up by his balls.Then again, that’s always been my attitude toward him.”
Vivian snickered but held up her hand.“One more thing.If the ex is a current threat, this might turn into a protection detail until he’s handled.You good with that?”She narrowed her eyes.“Anything I need to know about your past with Grace?”
There had been a time her smile would bring him to his knees.She would laugh, and he’d want to get closer.Good thing Callum had a hell of a poker face.He lifted his hands with a shrug.“I literally thought she was dead.”
“That doesn’t matter if there was a past between you two.”
Memories flashed through his mind.The time he and Hayden ignored her when the three of them played tag in the dark.A few years later, when she was a freshman in high school, they’d watched out for her as high-and-mighty seniors.Callum recalled the way she watched him with those beautiful brown eyes at his and Hayden’s Army Ranger graduation.And the time Callum watched her drive away in Marino’s fancy-ass car, knowing he should have said or done something the first time he met the prick.“There’s not.”
“You sure, Hale?”
“Absolutely nothing.She’s always just been the girl next door.Come on, Viv, don’t look at me like that.I just thought she was dead.Cut me a little slack.”
Chapter Three
Callumclosedhisapartmentdoor with a dull thud.His bootsteps echoed, reminding him of how alone he was in Granite Creek.The floor creaked under his feet, making the space feel that much emptier.
Grace was alive.
Grace was in trouble.
The truth looped through his head.He and Hayden needed to speak.Callum had tried, but every call went straight to voicemail.Likely out of pocket with his former teammates.He could call their parents, but what would he say?Nothing that would help the situation.
He crossed the apartment in a few strides.The empty space was all the reminder he needed that he was Titan’s new guy without roots.The air conditioning kicked on to fight the August heat and break the overwhelming silence in his apartment.
He didn’t like the quiet.It reminded him of everything that was missing.No chatter from the guys he’d risked his life with for years, no clatter of weapons being broken down and cleaned, no smell of chow that was half-plastic and half-edible.Just the faint hum of cool air blowing, the small fridge purring, and the occasional groan of old floorboards beneath his boots.
He dropped onto the couch that had come with the apartment.The furnishings were cheap and foam and inconsequential.The generic brown couch and chair matched the uninspiring four blank walls, which at one point had been a neutral beige.After years of wear and tear, the walls were more like a collage of scuffs and fingerprints.
His basic one-bedroom came with a monthly lease.No commitment to go with his lack of personal details.No pictures, no mementos.Just furniture he hadn’t cared enough to replace when the landlord offered the basics.
