Drew turned her head, startled. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. Freaked out, but fine. He’s been trying to find you.”
“Tell him I’m safe for now,” she murmured. “And tell him that I think there’s a meet tomorrow night. An exchange. Me for a shipment of drugs. Tell him to reach out to my brother and sister. Hopefully, they know the score.”
Dunlop nodded. “Got it.”
“Be careful,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Don’t trust anyone unless you’re sure. And if you can get out of here, do it.”
“Aw, not until you’re okay,” he whispered, a flash of guilt in his eyes. “You really helped me when you didn’t have to, and I, uh, feel bad about getting you involved in this.”
“Dunlop,” she said, capturing his gaze, “I appreciate that, but once you tell Billy, then just disappear. You don’t want to be anywhere near by when the exchange goes down. You need to get far away. Start a new life somewhere else.”
Dunlop shrugged. “Yeah, well maybe.” Then he turned and headed for the door.
Drew closed her eyes. The ache in her body was matched only by the fire burning in her chest. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. She’d done all she could for Dunlop. The rest was up to him. She needed sleep. Tomorrow was coming.
And it was going to be hell.
CHAPTER 20
The warehouse groanedand cracked in the heat—an old, corrugated number that smelled like rust, oil, and stagnant water. Cross stood at the second-story office window, arms crossed, watching the light fade across the parking lot outside. The sun hadn’t dipped below the horizon yet, but shadows were already elongating. It would soon be dark. It couldn’t come soon enough for him.
Below, the team moved with quiet efficiency. Patch and Savvy were setting up the surveillance gear and backup weapons cache near the loading docks. Frankie and Riven were looking at a map someone had pinned up on the wall. Stone was beside them. Tessa sat at a long folding table, burner phones lined up like dominos in front of her, ready to call the three ATF agents she suspected. McGuire leaned in the doorway behind Cross, sipping from a can of cold coffee like it was the only thing holding him together.
“They should be here in the next fifteen,” McGuire said, nodding toward the outside lot. “Billy and Wallace have the truck. No issues on the road so far.”
Cross nodded, his eyes locked on the darkening street. His body still ached from the infection, and the antibiotics madehis stomach churn like he’d swallowed fire. But none of that mattered. Not compared to what was waiting for them tonight.
Not compared to getting Drew back.
“At least we know she’s alive,” McGuire said.
“She was alive,” Cross corrected. “We know she was alive last night when Dunlop saw her and told Billy. Anything could have happened between then and now.”
“You can’t think like that. Not if you want to get through this. Going down that road will only screw with your head.”
Cross exhaled hard and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
McGuire didn’t say anything at first, just leaned against the door frame and waited.
“I thought she was dead,” Cross said quietly. “When I saw her taken and then… when I hit the water—” He broke off, jaw tightening. “I thought that was it. That I lost her. And I never got to tell her how goddamn sorry I am.”
McGuire shifted, his eyes narrowing. “Now that you know she’s alive, are you gonna do it? Tell her?”
“Yeah,” Cross said, his voice thick. “I have to. I should’ve done it a long time ago. Hell, I never should’ve walked away in the first place.”
McGuire’s brow ticked up. “Then why did you?”
Cross glanced at the window, resting both hands on the metal ledge in front of him, his reflection staring back at him in the glass. “Because I am a coward. I told myself I was protecting her—that I couldn’t risk her getting hurt because of me. But the truth is, I didn’t think I could deal with it if she got hurt. It drove me crazy that she was out there dealing with all kinds of lowlifes, putting herself at risk, and I couldn’t be there to protect her. It started to interfere with my head during our ops.”
He glanced at McGuire. “I thought if I ended it first, it would hurt less. That I could move on from her. Find someone who wasa teacher or a librarian or some kind of job that wasn’t putting her in harm’s way every day. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put her behind me, and I didn’t worry any less. It still killed me, only now I didn’t have the good times to balance it out. Your sister drives me crazy, but every goddamn day without her is like breathing underwater.”
McGuire studied him for a long beat. “She’s not the same girl you left, you know. You really screwed her up. She was crushed when you left.”
“I know.” Cross tapped his forehead against the glass, fighting the knot in his gut, knowing his actions had been responsible for hurting her. “I regret it more than I can say.” He sighed. “Yeah, she’s tougher now. More guarded. But she’s still the woman I love.” He turned to face McGuire fully, his emotions fierce. “And if I get the chance—if we get her out of this alive—I’m going to prove to her that I’m not the same guy either. I won’t screw it up again.”
McGuire gave him a look, skeptical but not unkind. “You sure? Because if you break her again, I’ll help her bury your body in the swamp.”
