“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Grant told her brusquely.
Purposely ignoring him, Brynnon held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Brynnon. You must be Derek.”
“Dude, she just totally blew you off.” With a wider-than-necessary smile, Derek chuckled as he reached for Brynnon’s offered hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Derek. And, for the record, I love you, already.”
Her eyes fell to the front of the guy’s t-shirt. Today’s pick was white with black lettering. With a sketch-style laptop in the center, it read, ‘Mine’s so big, you have to use two hands.
Brynnon laughed but then immediately winced. She may not have a concussion, but she was definitely hurting.
Seeing her face etched in pain brought Grant’s murderous desires back to life. Turning his voice lower, he glowered at Derek. “We need to find this fucker.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You find our reporter?”
“I did.” Turning to Brynnon, he asked, “Does the name Charles Wright mean anything to you?”
Both men waited while she tried to place the name. The skin between her brows bunched together in that cute-as-fuck way it did as she thought hard.
“It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“What about Jordan Wright?”
It took all of two seconds for the lines on her forehead to smooth out as recognition sank in. “He was one of the soldiers who died in that accident.” She blinked a few times and looked back up at Derek. “That man, the one who claimed to be a reporter...he’s really Charles Wright?”
Derek nodded. “Facial rec confirms it.”
Brynnon’s shoulders sagged. “That’s why he was asking about the accident.”
Feeling as though he were missing something, Grant’s focus bounced back and forth between the two of them. “What are you two talking about? What accident?”
It was Brynnon who answered. “Jordan was one of the twelve soldiers killed when a bridge collapsed in the mountains near Kunar six years ago.”
“I remember that,” Grant remarked.
It was just after he’d left the SEALs to join R.I.S.C. Though he hadn’t known any of the ill-fated soldiers personally, he and the rest of the military family still felt the loss to their core.
To Derek, he asked, “What does any of that have to do with Bryn?”
The shortened version of her name slipped out before he could stop it. Derek gave him a funny look, but surprisingly, the guy didn’t comment.
Not giving Derek the chance to answer him, Brynnon spoke first. “I’m assuming Charles Wright was Jordan’s father?”
“He was.” Derek nodded. He handed her a piece of paper that was on top of the stack of folders.
A look of sadness washed over Brynnon, and Grant had to shove his fists into his pockets to keep from reaching out for her.
“That’s him.” She handed the paper to Grant to look over. “That’s the man from the hospital.”
Grant looked down at Charles Wright’s picture. It was definitely the same guy. “He was asking you about a story?”
She hesitated. Grant could tell she was uncomfortable, but he had to force himself to ignore it. To treat this just like any other job.
“Brynnon, we need to know what he said to you. Exactly.”
“Not much, really. H-he accused my father of being a murderer.”
The hell?“Do you know why he would say that?”
