Trevor
First thing the next morning, I knock on Ford’s office door. Dani booked us two tickets on a flight out of Dulles at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow, and I’m headed down there tonight and staying at the airport hotel.
Assuming Ford doesn’t try to stop me from going. Not that I’d listen. I should have talked to him yesterday, but this conversation? It’s not going to go well.
“Come on in, Trev,” he says with an easy smile. Second Sight isn’t officially accepting new clients again until next week, so everyone’s relaxed. We shut down the whole office over the holidays, other than a couple of low-level cases that Clive and Ronan handled while the rest of us took some much needed R&R.
“Heard from Dax and Evianna?” I sink into his visitor’s chair with my mug of coffee, figuring small talk, despite my lack of experience with it, is the best way to ease myself into the serious stuff.
“Yeah. They got back to Seattle last night, but they’re staying there another two days so he and Ry can work out some of the details of the new teams they’re putting together.” Ford runs a hand through his hair. Bits of gray dot his temples, but the man’s never looked so young...and happy.
“How come you’re not out there too, then?”
“Didn’t want to be. This is their deal. Now that I have Joey back, I don’t want a single fucking reason to leave the country ever again—unless she and I want to take a vacation or her research sends her somewhere.”
“You’re not going to be involved at all?”
“Dax and I are still going to run Second Sight. Nothing about this firm changes. Except we’ll have additional resources if any of our cases involve K&R. The newly expanded Hidden Agenda issupposedto let Ryker spend more time in Seattle with Wren.”
I snort. “You mean he’s not going to go on every mission? I’ll believe that when it happens.”
Ford nearly spits out his coffee. “It’s not going to go well. What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning. You disappeared right after lunch.”
I stare down at the mug cupped in my hands. “Remember when I told you about Gil? What I did on my last mission for the CIA?”
Ford doesn’t say anything. Only nods, then sits back and waits for me to continue.
“Gil’s sister came to see me yesterday. She’s an investigative journalist for the Washington Post, and she needs a bodyguard to accompany her to Venezuela.”
With a nod, Ford sets his cup down. “Makes sense. Venezuela’s not exactly known as a safe place for tourists.” He taps his keyboard a couple of times to bring up the company calendar. “Your schedule’s clear. I’m assuming you’re going?”
“Yeah. But, Ford, there’s something you don’t know.”
Arching a brow, he chuckles. “You’re CIA. I have a feeling there’s a fuckton I don’t know.”
“FormerCIA. That’s not my life anymore.” Jerking up, I start to pace the room. “Dani and Gil were orphans, Ford. Like me. They were raised in the system. Hell, that’s where I first met Gil. We were put in the same foster home for a few weeks when I was seven. He watched out for me.”
“Shit, man. I didn’t know you were adopted.” There’s an edge to Ford’s voice. Hurt that I never shared this part of me with him.
“I wasn’t.” Pinning him with a hard stare, I admit part of my truth. “I aged out of the system. The day I turned eighteen, I left my foster home and joined the army. But Gil and Dani...they were adopted by Austin Pritchard’s parents.”
I don’t have to wait long for the realization to sink in. “Commander Pritchard. From JSOC.”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell.” Ford whistles. “So that’s why you and Pritchard seemed so...casual with one another at Ripper’s thing.”
“Part of it.” Over the course of the next hour, I tell him everything. How Gil found his birth father in Venezuela and spent weeks down there with the leader of the Loma Collectivo, being brainwashed into becoming a double agent. How Austin tried to bring him home, but didn’t know how dramatically Jorge Sosa’s death had affected Gil. The night I found Austin tortured and then killed my best friend rather than send him to a CIA black site.
Stone-faced, Ford leans back in his chair. “And after all that, Dani’s willing to go to Venezuela withyou? Does she know that you’re the one who killed her brother?”
“She does. Austin—Pritchard—told her a couple of years after it happened.” I stare out Ford’s window. Snow falls steadily onto the Boston streets, making everything seem fresh and new. Maybe it is. Ford and Dax got married. We have a new junior investigator, a big guy named Tank, Vasquez and Ronan are transitioning to days, and Ford just put out feelers for a couple of replacement overnight guys. Everything’s changing. Except me.
Ford’s saying something, but I can’t look away from the window. When he grabs my forearm, I whirl around and practically knock him to the floor before I realize what I’m doing.
“Trevor! Look at me.” He comes back at me, hard, pinning me up against the window with my arms over my head. He’s at least six inches taller than I am, and though I’m strong, Ford uses my distraction to his advantage. “What the hell was that?” he growls. “I barely touched you.”
“Sorry, man.” I relax in his grip once my brain processes the absence of an actual threat. “I haven’t slept much the past few nights. The anniversary of Gil’s death was Monday.”
