He hated the power of those memories and swore to himself that he would put that smile back on her face and do everything he could to keep it there.
Sixteen
Kate didn’t say much on the drive from the hospital to the hotel. As it was too late to fly back to DC that night, she’d arranged a room for herself at the airport hotel. Colt’s suggestion that they share the room, while not exactly a joke but presented as one, had been met with an icy glare that would have frozen his nuts off if she hadn’t turned away.
He got the message and booked a second room.
Figuring she was probably still angry about what he’d said earlier about him wanting to give it another shot, when she said she was tired and was just going to go back to her room to order room service, he didn’t argue.
He’d given her enough to think about, and he didn’t want to press. He could be patient.
For one night.
But it was hard when he was so... well, hard. It wasn’t easy being around someone you wanted for hours and not being able to do what you knew would make both of you feel a hell of a lot better.
The hotel bar was the typical upscale chain trying too hard to look like it was in downtown Manhattan withmood lighting, a few discreetly placed flat-screen TVs, sleek wood surfaces, and chairs that were more for looks than comfort. It was filled with middle-management types—mostly men—and an odd couple or two. The waitresses were all under twenty-five and attractive.
Colt found a secluded corner where he could see the room—habit—and ordered his eight-dollar Coors Light from one of the waitresses. He hoped to hell the can was gold and not silver at that price. But he was done with whiskey for a while. The waitress tried to chat him up when she brought the beer back, but he made it clear he just wanted the drink and took out one of his burner phones to start checking on a few things.
Colt was very careful with his electronic fingerprint and used only burners. Most people would be terrified of the amount of information they unwittingly gave off with their devices and how easy it was to find out that information.
He checked one of his Dark Web e-mail accounts (even those weren’t fail-safe) to see that one of his contacts had gotten back to him. It had taken a circuitous route, but as he and Kate had suspected and the text on Joelle’s phone seemed to confirm, the deposit in the girl’s account had come from a Western Union in Alaska about twenty miles from where Travis had been staying.
Colt’s contact hadn’t been able to pull the additional cameras Colt wanted near the bar, which was a little unusual, but he hoped Kate would be able to get them. He’d meant to ask her about it, and thought about knocking on her door as he made his way to his own room, but decided that as excuses went to disturb her, it wasn’t a very good one.
A better one came a few minutes after he entered his room and one of his other burners buzzed.
Recognizing the number as Taylor’s and assuming he was calling to be filled in on what had happened withJoelle, Colt was surprised by what he had to say. Apparently Taylor and the Russian spy were on the move after having narrowly escaped a hit team who’d tracked them to the farm in Vermont.
Colt had to admit he’d been shocked when Taylor initially told him he’d found Natalya Petrova (aka Natalie Andersson) and that he wasn’t taking her in right away. Breaking the rules was something Colt did. Taylor had always been such a pain in the ass about it when Colt did something that wasn’t exactly kosher; it was nice to know the kid had it in him. Although, he supposed the “kid” wasn’t much of a kid anymore. But he’d probably always think of him that way, as Scott had been just out of SEAL Qualification Training when they’d first met almost ten years ago, ironically before he’d met Kate.
Scott didn’t need to explain the implications. Colt understood that if the Russians had found Natalie, it probably had been by tracking him. Scott said he’d tried to call Kate to warn her to be careful, but she wasn’t answering her phone. He’d thought he might find her with Colt.
Colt heard the unspoken question and the warning but didn’t bite. As he had every intention of being back in his ex-wife’s bed soon, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her little brother warn him off. Even if her little brother happened to be an officer in the most elite SEAL unit in America. Colt might be pushing forty, but he could hold his own with any of his former teammates. Except maybe Spivak. That guy was a beast. But Colt fought dirty, so who knew?
Colt told Scott that Kate had been tired and had probably just turned her ringer off to sleep. He’d go knock on her door and have her call him.
Glad of the excuse to check on her, Colt headed down the hallway. Kate’s room was on the same floor about a dozen doors away.
He knocked and when she didn’t answer right away, he knocked louder.
He saw the movement of light behind the peephole. She knew better than to make that kind of rookie mistake. “Open up, Kate. I know you are in there.”
He heard a muffled “Go away.”
There was something about her voice that bothered him. “I have a message for you—from Scott.”
She opened the door and the reason her voice had sounded funny was immediately clear. One look at her ravaged face told him that she’d been crying. Hard, and for some time.
It felt as if there were a hole in his heart that everything suddenly drained out of. Had he done this to her? The emptiness in his chest started to burn.
He pushed his way into the room and closed the door behind him. “Jesus, Kate. What’s wrong?”
He wanted to reach out and cup her tearstained cheek in his hand. He’d never seen her look so absolutely eviscerated—as if she’d been torn apart and ripped to shreds.
He took that back. Hehadseen her like this once. In the hospital. But he’d been so crazed with jealousy he’d steeled himself against recognizing it. But there was nothing to steel him now, and seeing her like this madehimfeel eviscerated. Kate was strong. She was tough. She shouldn’t look vulnerable. He didn’t know what to do; he’d never felt so damned helpless.
It only got worse when she looked up at him with those big blue eyes so filled with pain, it made him feel as if he were wearing a shirt that was two sizes too small and lined with nails.
