“I’ll take care of it,” Abby says without hesitation.
“And if I happen to get my hands on that document I’m not supposed to do on company time,” Mattis imparts, “I’ll be sure it’s on board, too.”
“Good.” Hawk nods once. He turns to us. “This would be a lot easier to finalize a plan if we knew where she was.”
I glance toward Blake, who gives the smallest dip of her head, knowing what I’m going to ask before I open my mouth. “At the hospital,” I disclose to the others. “In an abandoned wing.”
“You knew?” Gunnar abruptly turns in his chair, his tone sharp. “This whole time?”
“Yesterday,” I correct flatly. “I found out yesterday.”
He stares at me like he’s deciding whether or not to punch me. “I’m not going to lecture you now,” he finally grits out, “but the next time we’re on the mat, I will beveryclear how I feel about this.”
I grin. “Oh, thank God. I’m tired of needing to let you win all the time.”
Gunnar merely shakes his head in response.
“Weapons load stays light,” Damon adds. “Suppressed. No hospital shootout unless our hands are forced.”
“No kids or staff caught in the crossfire,” Blake quietly demands.
“Agreed,” Hawk says. “Jagger, Gunnar, you’re primary.”
“Blake waits with the convoy,” I insist immediately.
“No.” She adamantly shakes her head.
I turn to her. “This isn’t negotiable.”
“It is when Maryam trusts me and not you,” she snaps. “She’s not exactly going to follow commands from two men with guns.”
She’s not wrong. That’s the problem.
Hawk’s gaze flits between the two of us for a moment, like he knows he’s about to start a domestic. “She goes.”
I don’t like it—inthe slightest—but I don’t argue.
We keep building the plan, piece by piece, for hours. Routes. Timelines. Worst-case contingencies.
Blake gives me a tight, nervous smile before turning toward the hallway. I push from the table to follow after her because, in thirty-two hours, everything changes. I don’t know who is going to walk out the other side of this, and I’ll be damned if I don’t spend every second between now and then with her in my arms.
The air in the safe house is thick with the scent of stale coffee and anticipation. My fingers drum against the windowsill; a rhythmic beat that matches the frantic pulse in my throat. Outside, rain splatters on the glass in erratic patterns, blurring the city into an abstract watercolor painting. Eighteen hours.That’s all it’s been.The minutes are sludging by, and it feels like it’s never going to be time.
“Stop that.” Jagger’s voice rumbles behind me, deep and resonant. I can sense his approach before the old floorboards groan under his considerable weight or his hands land on my shoulders. His palms engulf my shoulders completely, making me feel impossibly small. “You’ll wear a hole in the wood.”
I lean into his touch, my head landing low on his chest when I tilt it all the way back. “I’m bored,” I whine, knowing how pathetic I sound. “And anxious. What if something goes wrong?”
“Nothing is going to go wrong,” he assures me, turning me to face him. I crane my neck to look at him, realizing that the difference in our size is almost comical. I barely come up to his sternum, and his hands almost span my entire waist. His blue eyes soften as they scan my face. “This isn’t our first rodeo. We have planned for every possible outcome.”
I scowl at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, but I’m still crawling out of my skin.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, revealing the slight dimple in his left cheek. “I can think of better ways to pass the time than staring out windows and wearing holes in windowsills.”
“Oh, really? And what might those be?” I sass. My body responds instantly to his suggestive tone, heat pooling in my belly despite my best efforts to maintain my grumpy mood.
His large hands slide down my arms, leaving trails of tingling warmth in their wake. “I think you know,” he whispers, leaning down until our faces are inches apart. His breath smells faintly of mint and coffee. “But if you need reminding…”
I don’t have time to reply before he lifts me effortlessly, one arm behind my back and another under my knees. I gasp, automatically wrapping my arms around his neck as he carries me up the stairs and toward the bedroom like I weigh nothing.
