Us. The word gives me pause until I realize he’s talking about his company. Not me. Sitting across from him, it’s easy to fool myself into thinking no time’s passed, and we’re still on the same team.
Wren meets my gaze for only a second, but the fire in her green eyes shocks me. “Help me find her. I’m close. I have enough for facial recognition. I just need to get to St. Petersburg. Traffic cameras, government surveillance systems, identification cards…plus Z’s notes…I can find her. Then we can get her out.”
“Why?” I ask. “This girl’s nothing to you. A drug lord’s punching bag of the week.” As I say the words, I try not to cringe. I don’t like the idea of leaving Elena there, and I don’t even know the kid.Never leave a man behind.It’s our code. It’s why I got into K&R. Because Dax and I got left behind and look where it got us.
“My brother loved her.” Wren fiddles with her bracelet, staring down at the purple and green beads. “And he promised her.”
“You’re willing to risk your life—the lives of your coworkers—because of a promise?” I ask. “Do you have a death wish?”
Wren blows out a breath and turns to me. “No. I don’t. But promises mean something to me. Our mother ran out on us when Zion was thirteen. The day she left, Z was sick. Pneumonia. I came over to spend time with him, and as soon as I walked in the door, Mom left. Z was crying, and the last thing Mom said to him was, ‘I’ll be back in a few hours. I promise.’”
Draining the last of her beer, she starts peeling off the label in long, narrow strips. “After three days, the police in Atlantic City called and told us she’d been arrested for vehicular homicide. She was drunk off her ass and killed three people.” Her voice cracks, and she slams the bottle down. “She died in prison eighteen months after her sentencing.”
“I’m sorry,” I say and fight the urge to take her hand. I don’t do comforting. But something about this woman calls to me. Begs me to be…better. Someone I’m not.
“Don’t apologize.” Wren gives me a sidelong glance and shakes her head. “She never contacted us or responded to any of my repeated attempts to see her. That’s not the point.” Clenching her fists for a moment and squeezing her eyes shut, she forces out a breath. “When I got the call about the arrest and looked up the charge, I knew she was never coming home.Ihad to tell Zion. And the two of us agreed we’d never use the words ‘I promise’ unless we were sure we meant them. In ten years, Z never went back on a promise. Not even when he was at his lowest. He’d say, ‘I swear’ or ‘Scout’s honor’ or ‘You know it.’ Not ‘I promise.’ But he said the words to her…and he said them to me. He promised he was clean. That he was never going back to drugs. Ever.”
“I promise I’ll come back for you, Dax. But if I don’t go now, we’ll both die.”
“Ry…don’t leave me…”
I look over at Dax and wonder if he’s reliving the same memory. “I’ll get Elena out,” I say before common sense can overrule me. “Give me all the info you have on her and keep working from here. I’ll go to St. Petersburg and find her.”
“You won’t find her without me.” Wren straightens her shoulders. “It’ll be a heck of a lot easier for me to hack the systems I need if I’m on-site.”
“No. You’re staying in Boston. I can’t protect you in Russia.”
“Unless you’re prepared to lock me away somewhere by force, you can’t stop me. And I’m pretty sure the two of you aren’tthatstupid.” Wren pushes to her feet, and her little dog leaps up and runs to the door, rearing up on her hind legs and begging. “I have to take Pixel out. You can stay here and we can talk more when I get back, or you can leave. The door is self-locking,” she says as she jingles her keys in one hand and holds the dog’s leash in the other.
When she slips into the hall, I stare up at the ceiling. “You know how to pick ‘em, Dax. She’s…”
“Headstrong? Loyal? Altruistic?” He chuckles. “Fucking stubborn?”
“All of the above.” Wandering over to her second-floor window, I peer out into the April evening. Wren lets the dog scamper from tree to tree, the little thing sniffing and occasionally looking back at her. The street’s deserted, the neighborhood quiet well past nine at night.
I’m about to turn back when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. A shadow darts out from between the buildings, too fast to be anything good, and instinct kicks in. “Hostile!” I shout as I sprint for her door. Curling my hand around the stairwell railing, I use my momentum to carry me halfway down, then jump the last four stairs, hitting the building’s door at full speed. Pixel growls, then there’s a muffled scream, a male curse, and a smack.
“Dose her and get it over with,” a tense voice snaps.
I’m almost to the corner of the building when I hear Wren moan. “Nnnooo…”
Shit. They’re taking her. I press my back to the wall. Plan. Assess. Act.
“Fucking bitch bit me.” This from someone older. Or bigger. The tone deeper.
“Get the dog. Take it back into her apartment and grab her computer,” the first voice orders, jingling keys. “Meet me at the car.”
Angling a quick glance around the corner of the building, I make out two men. One hefts Wren over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and the other reaches for the dog. But Pixel has a little fight in her and latches on to the man’s hand. Perfect distraction.
In three steps, I lay the dog’s new chew toy out with one hard uppercut, then move on to the asshole holding Wren. “Let her go, or you won’t walk again for a very long time.”
Wren slides to the ground, unconscious, as he reaches behind his back. But I’m too well-trained to be intimidated by a kid who can’t be more than twenty-one. Ducking my shoulder, I ram into his gut, sending the gun clattering to the cobblestones as we hit the ground.
“Big mistake.” Grabbing him by his skinny arms, I lift him and then slam him back down again, driving the air from his lungs. “Who sent you?”
A metallic tapping sounds from the front of the building. “Call the dog,” I shout.
“Pixel. Come.” Dax whistles, and the ball of fur takes off for the door.
