She straightened her spine. "I had maybe two minutes before?—"
"Before you got yourself killed along with him." Wade's tone stayed level, but anger simmered underneath. "You hotwired a church van. Drove twenty miles into hostile territory. Walked into a situation you had no training for?—"
"This isn’t the first time I’ve done this." The words came out before she could stop them.
Wade's eyes narrowed. "That so."
Cara realized her mistake. Admitting skills she shouldn't possess. Revealing more than she'd intended.
But Wade was still talking. "You could have been recognized from the warehouse. Could have been shot. Could have blown the whole operation." His jaw tightened. "And I would have been responsible because I was supposed to keep you safe."
Oh. This wasn't just about her disobeying orders. This was about Wade feeling like he'd failed.
"It wasn’t your fault," Cara said. "I made the choice to work you."
Wade's expression suggested he didn't love that.
"If the situation happened again," he said, watching her carefully, "would you do the same thing?"
She thought about Gabe alone in that tavern. About the men closing in. About the split-second decision that had saved both their lives. "Definitely."
Wade stared at her for a long moment. She refused to look away.
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite approval, but recognition. "At least you're honest."
"About this," she admitted.
He heard the qualifier. The acknowledgment of other lies still buried.
His mouth almost quirked. "Don't make me regret this."
"I'll try not to."
"You'll fail." But he pulled out his truck keys. "I'll follow you both back. Make sure you're not tailed."
The release of tension was almost physical.
Gabe looked between them. "We good?"
"We'll talk later," Wade said, the words carrying the weight of unfinished business. "Right now we move."
"I'll take the van back," Cara said, pulling the keys from her pocket.
Gabe nodded. "Wade and I will follow. Make sure you're not tailed."
"Three vehicles is better anyway," Wade said.
Cara climbed into the church van, suddenly aware of how badly she reeked of beer. The collision with the patron had soaked her hoodie thoroughly. She cracked the windows despite the cold, letting air circulate. The drive back felt longer than the frantic trip north. Adrenaline faded, leaving exhaustion and the reality of what had just happened.
34
The driveback felt longer than the frantic trip north. Cara drove the church van alone, windows cracked despite the cold to air out the beer smell soaking her clothes. In the rearview mirror, Gabe's SUV followed, Wade's truck behind him. A small convoy heading back to Haven Cove.
Adrenaline faded, leaving exhaustion and the reality of what had just happened. She'd run a con. Become Carly Reid again. Walked into danger and talked her way out using skills she'd sworn to bury.
And it had felt terrifyingly natural.
The familiar phrases. The calculated eye contact. Reading Levinger and his men, finding exactly the right performance to sell. Six months of trying to be Cara Sweet, and one crisis had pulled Carly Reid right back to the surface like she'd never left.
