* * *
Jack watched his friend’s retreating back, wondering if he’d ever see Will again. He’d never asked for all the details on what had happened between Will and Claire when they were on the run in the Nigerian jungle. He knew that they’d been through hell together while they were captured, and he suspected that the bond they’d forged during their time together was something that shook them both to the core—hell, why else would a beautiful woman with a promising career and a second chance at life spend countless hours searching for Will, determined to believe he was still alive in spite of the carefully planted evidence the Alliance had provided to the contrary?
He knew that whatever it was that had happened haunted Will, tortured him. Will thought he’d failed Claire in some way.
Jack ran his hands through his hair, holding the dark waves tight against his head for a moment before letting go with a sigh. God, he understood that kind of torture. He’d failed every woman he’d ever cared about. And he knew for damned sure that Maddie deserved better than his sorry ass.
That was why he wasn’t about to go to her now and tell her good-bye. Besides, she’d made it perfectly clear at dinner that there was no future for them. What had happened between them on the plane was nothing more than satisfying a craving—at least, that’s how she’d put it when he’d followed her out of the dining room. The look on her face, the awkwardness when she tried to explain that she’d been an idiot to think things would work out and that she apologized if she’d led him on . . . It shredded his goddamned heart.
Then she’d thanked him. Fuckingthankedhim. As if making love to her had been nothing more than a favor, a way to finally get him out of her system.
Even now as he remembered her words, he balled his fists at his sides. But the hurt, the anger he felt was nothing to the ache that sat like a boulder in the center of his chest, making it momentarily impossible to breathe.
No, it was better for them both if he just walked away without a word and dealt with his bullshit once and for all. He’d assured Will that he wasn’t concerned about coming back, but he could see in Will’s eyes that his old friend knew Jack’s confidence on this one was all for show. In truth, Jack knew how this was going to end. There was only one way it could end. Otherwise Jack would always be hunted, the people he cared about would continue to be in danger.
But Jack knew for damned sure that when he felt the cold steel muzzle at the base of his neck and closed his eyes to accept his fate, it’d be Maddie’s face he pictured, the moments they’d shared replaying in his mind before eternal darkness engulfed him.
An hour later, he drove his silver Porsche through the compound gates and opened it up, the scenery zipping by him in a blur. When he was finally on the interstate and heading east, he hit the call button on his control panel.
“Whaddup, brah?” Finn asked, the words followed by the sound of video game explosions in the background. He must’ve already been hard at work on something, using the games to “warm up” his brain, as he put it. Well, whatever it was, it was going to have to wait.
Jack’s eyes narrowed on the road before him and he shifted gears. “I need you to find Sergei Antonovich. I want to know where he is, where he’s been, what he’s eaten, who he’s screwing. You feel me?”
“Already on it,” Finn told him.
Jack’s brows lifted. “Did Will give you a heads-up that I’d be asking?”
“No,” Finn said, drawing out the word, his tone cautious. “Will’s already on the jet to Boston. Maddie was the one asking for our pal Sergei’s location.”
Jack hissed a curse under his breath. “Where’s she now?”
There was a slight pause. “Probably somewhere in northern Indiana at this point. She was headed east and wanted me to send her hourly updates on Antonovich’s movements. I was able to pick up his trail in Boston right away—dude wasn’t really covering his tracks, if you know what I mean. It’s like hewantedus to find him. Airport security footage had him boarding a plane to Detroit around the same time you guys left Boston. Kozlov too, but not together. Not sure what that’s all about . . . Think they’re trying to keep a low profile? Not let on they’re working together?”
“Detroit?” Jack mumbled. “What’s in Detroit?”
He could hear Finn typing. “Apparently, Antonovich’s granddaughter Eva. She’s a college student at University of Detroit Mercy. Studying to be a nurse. She lives in an apartment near campus. Only connection I can find for Kozlov is Antonovich.”
Jack’s frown deepened. “Send me the address,” he demanded, apprehension creeping along his spine. He was liking this mission less and less. And the fact that Maddie had an hour and a half’s head start did nothing to diminish his anxiety. “And get me a location on Maddie.”
More clacking on the keyboard. “You got it.Texting it to you now.”
Jack glanced at the coordinates when they came up before him, projected upon his windshield. He pressed down on the accelerator, shifting smoothly as the Porsche’s engine revved. “What’s Maddie driving?”
“Hang on,” Finn mumbled. “Lemme check the fleet. Oh,sweet. Your girl is totally badass, Jack. She’s got one of the Harleys.”
Jack shifted again, pushing one hundred miles per hour now. “Finn, I’m going to need you to clear a path for me. I need to catch up to her before she reaches Detroit.”
“You got it. I’ll alert our pals in law enforcement. You won’t have any issues.” There was another pause. “Hey, brah, I’m sorry about you and Maddie. I figured you were in this together.”
Jack’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his muscle begin to twitch. Whether Maddie liked it or not, they were sure as shit in it togethernow. She was walking into a trap—a trap clearly meant for him. There was no other explanation for how visible Antonovich’s movements were. The man was a master at going dark—he’d been one of the best operatives the KGB had in the field when he was an active agent. This was just another attempt to draw Jack into their snare. And his old enemy wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to use Maddie against him to get whatever it was he was after.
But there was no way in hell he was going to letanotherwoman he cared about die trying to protect him. If anything happened to her, Antonovich had better pray to whatever god that double-crossing motherfucker worshiped that someone else took him out before Jack got to him. Because if there was one thing Jack was good at, it was making his enemies bleed . . .
