“And what about Hope? You really think this keeps her safe? If we miss even one of these assholes, they could come after her.”
West frowns and Ryker pushes to his feet like they expect me to go batshit over their next words. This should be fun.
“We have to make it look like Simon and his men found Hope in Seattle and killed her. Give her a new name, fresh start, all that shit,” West says.
I'm off the stool like someone lit it on fire. "She escaped so she could get her goddamn life back, and you want to take it away—”
Ryker growls an oath, but West claps him on the shoulder with one hand and slaps the other against the center of my chest. “Stand down, Ry. I've got this.” Turning to me, the former SEAL holds my gaze. “Arrens treated her like she was nothing. Outside of what she could do for him—keep his books and be a convenient target for his anger—she said he barely spoke to her, right?”
My rage is a physical presence—growing by the second—and I stalk over to the window, Murphy on my six like glue. “She was alone. All the time.”
Trapped in that huge house. Locked in when he wanted to punish her.
“Then do you really think anyone else in that organization would give her a second thought if they found out she was dead? She wouldn’t have to disappear. Just change her last name and lie low for a month or two. Once Arrens is dead, no one else is going to scour the streets of Seattle trying to find her.”
Holy shit.
West is right. Turning back to the group, I wonder if we really could have a life here. Until another thought shoves everything else from my head. “What about the trafficking ring? All his contacts in Mexico and Canada. The coyotes who bring in the victims. We can’t let them ruin any more lives.”
West, Ryker, and Inara exchange knowing glances. Even Ripper chuckles. Raelynn sidesteps me with her empty coffee mug and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “Hot damn. A new probie.”
“We?” Ry asks. “You saying you want to stick around for a while? Help us out at Hidden Agenda?”
Shit. Do I? These men and women understand me in a way no one else can. And if I stayed…Hope and I could try for a life together.
Suddenly, the idea of spending another second away from her makes my skin crawl. I know she’s with Wren and Cara. Only two floors away. In a building with more security than the fucking White House. But we’re talking about taking her life away. Even if only for a few months.
“Maybe. I need to talk to Hope. Can we table this now? For the night? I know she and Wren were supposed to join us, but…”
“Go back to her,” West says. “There’s not much more we can do until we flag and tag every single member of the organization. Learn their patterns, habits, weaknesses.”
“That’s gonna happen somewhere else.” Ryker pulls out his phone and glances at the screen. “Wren’s headed back up. She’s tired. The rest of you can go to the warehouse or work from Rip’s place. Just keep me in the loop.”
West chuckles as he slides his tablet into a small backpack. “Never thought I’d see the day Ryker McCabe ‘took a break.’”
“Did I say I was going to rest?” He arches his brows, one of them distinctly lower than the other and bisected by a thick scar. “I’m going to call in a favor. See if I can get any information about the fibbies on his payroll.”
16
Hope
My shoulders ache, and after three hours bent over Wren’s laptop reliving all the work I did to hide Simon’s illegal activities, I’m wiped out.
I run my fingers through my hair, and despite my exhaustion, a smile tugs at my lips. Cara helped me clean it up in back, then took a few pictures for my new ID.
I’m Hope Hastings now. For how long, I’m not sure. Maybe forever.
Not all of our time was spent working to take down Simon and his organization, though. We sat out on the patio drinking tea, the two women helped me choose a week’s worth of new clothes online, and when the packages were delivered an hour ago, we took a break so I could change into something that felt more like me.
The dark blue yoga pants, asymmetrical black sweater, and Keds give me the confidence I’ve lacked since I met Simon. I’m comfortable in my own skin—at least for a few minutes at a time. Until I remember how much danger we’re in.
The door locks disengage, and I freeze on my way to the kitchen. My heart races until Murphy bounds into the apartment.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Wyatt’s deep voice soothes my raw nerves, but it’s his embrace I’ve been craving since the moment he left.
I wind my arms around his waist and melt against him. “Today was just…a lot.”
“You tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.” Being close to him chases away my fears. Strong fingers dig into my ass. He wants me. I can feel just how much when he pulls me closer.
