“After what happened last night, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Dax’s brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“If Zephyr ends up in custody, I think whoever shot me will go after her. We can’t turn her in, Dax. We’d be signing her death warrant.”
Chapter Twelve
Ronan
Before I leave Second Sight,I code myself into the equipment room. Dax knows his shit. When I was protecting Austin and Mik in Edgewater, Austin told me Dax, Ry, and Ripper had the best instincts of anyone he’d ever met.
If I hadn’t fucked up last night, maybe he would have been in more of a mood to listen. I heard the sirens. I knew the police were on their way, and I didn’t report in.
“If you ever get in trouble, call me or Ford. I don’t care what it is. Day or night. We protect our own. No matter what.”
My very first day on the job, Dax and Ford drilled that order into me over and over. Handed me an untraceable phone with both of their numbers saved. And I didn’t even send him a text to let him know I was all right. I’m surprised he didn’t forbid me from ever using the company SUVs again.
In the equipment room, I go through the meticulously labeled drawers until I find a pair of bone-conduction ear pieces, a signal jammer, and a GPS kit with four of the dime-size tracking units with built-in panic buttons. Signing each piece of tech out with my initials, I tuck them all into my bag.
The GPS kit and signal jammer, I can explain away. But the earwigs? That’s not going to be easy. I hope to all that’s holy in this world no one decides to do inventory this week.
On my way back down the hall, Trevor stops me. “Dax rip you a new one yet?”
“I won’t be sittin’ down for a few days. Does everyone know?”
Trevor chuckles. “If they were in the office, they know. Dax wasn’t exactlyquietwhen he told Ford he was going to kick your ass six ways from Sunday.”
“Brilliant. My first case is goin’ to get me demoted.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I wince.
You got shot, eejit. Be careful.
“You okay?” Trevor narrows his eyes at me, then takes a step back. “Shit, Ronan. What happened last night?”
I can’t ignore the man. Back in January, I flew down to Venezuela with Dani—his fiancée—met Ryker, Graham, and Austin, and broke Trev out of the most notorious prison in the world.La Cripta’s Sublevel 5 had a dozen cells, none big enough for the prisoners to even sit up in. The warden, General Ochoa, kept the temperature near freezing, the lights bright enough the prisoners were never allowed to sleep, and tortured them whenever he felt like it. Trevor spent three days in one of those cells and barely survived.
“I’m not goin’ to be worth shit unless I get some caffeine.” Gesturing down the hall toward the small kitchenette, I wait for Trevor to nod.
“We can take this to the roof, if you’d prefer.”
“Yeah. That’d be good.” Ford, Clive, Ella, Vasquez, Marjorie…they don’t need to hear how bad I fucked up. The rooftop garden is heated, secured, and above all, peaceful.
Ten minutes later, we step out of the elevator, steaming mugs in hand. Easing myself down onto one of the benches with a groan, I let my gaze wander to the citrus trees heavy with fruit. The heaters keep the garden at the perfect temperature, and Dax brings oranges to Evianna once a week.
“So, spill it,” Trevor says, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles.
I tell him everything—except how I captured Zephyr, brought her to my apartment, and agreed to help her. Trevor’s family, but I have no doubt he’d pick Dax over me every time.
“I can make some calls. See what the CIA knows about Yoden’s murder.” He drains the last of his coffee and sets the mug next to him. He pushed the cuffs of his sleeves up a few minutes ago, and thin scars encircle his wrists from so long in handcuffs. “You have good instincts, Ronan. It’s why Dax sent you on the job for Austin. Why he promoted you.”
“I think he’s regrettin’ that decision at the moment.”
Trevor shoots me a look that tells me to shut my trap and listen. “He’s not regretting a thing. Except not drilling it into your thick Irish skull that we’re a family here. That we don’t try to ‘handle shit’ on our own when there’s an entire team of people—here and in Seattle—ready to help, no questions asked.”
The urge to tell Trevor the whole truth is almost overwhelming, but I can’t break the fragile trust Zephyr put in me. “She’s innocent, Trev. I’d bet my life on it. She didn’t kill Yoden, and there’s more to this case than Dax wants to admit.”
He studies me for so long, I fight the urge to squirm. The man is unnerving. Almost as bad as West—the former Navy SEAL and tactical expert working with Ryker in Seattle. I never asked him much about his past, but on the rescue mission to Venezuela, learned his best friend—and Dani’s brother—committed treason, kidnapped Austin, tortured him, and was going to kill him. Until the CIA sent Trevor to put an end to Gil first. But Ford told me Trevor has over a hundred kills on his ledger. That much blood? You can’t make up for that. Even if they were sanctioned by the United States government.
“Choose your next words carefully,” he says, his voice low and deadly serious. “How can you be so sure?”
