She blinked, managed to pull herself back without screaming at the dark. She glanced up at him. That was the second time he’d called her sweetheart, and she wasn’t sure whether she was thrilled or scared. She hadn’t thought about pursuing any kind of romantic relationship since she’d dragged her ass out of that river — had known the days she’d spent in the cell had fundamentally changed her. And she’d accepted it. Embraced, it really.
Until she’d met Buck.
From the start, he’d understood her in a way no one else ever had. Had accepted the broken parts of her without judgment. Sure, he had his own demons. Had lost years to the darkness. But he’d come out the other side intact. And he’d been the reason she’d stepped into the light when she’d been determined to stay in the shadows.
To hide where no one could find her, again.
She leaned into him, trusting he wouldn’t let her fall as she focused on breathing until the memories faded.
He dropped a kiss on her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
She glanced up at him, brow arched, a hint of a smile curling her lips. Had he really just called her his girl?
He winked, the jackass, when Sloane inhaled, typing a bit faster before she pushed back her chair, her hands still for the first time since last night, as she looked over at them.
Nick grinned. “I recognize that look. What did you find?”
She waved them over, shaking her head as she stared at her screen. “Maybe something, or maybe nothing, but… I’ve been focusing on PMCs operating outside of Bogotá that also had ties to human trafficking starting a year before Tierney’s team was ambushed, right up until six months after her escape. As expected, all of them kept operating as if nothing had happened, except one. A company known only as Grimm all but vanished six weeks after the ambush, which I believe is about a week or two after Tierney escaped. The timing seemed too coincidental to pass up so I went deeper and found this…”
She hit a key, popped a grainy photograph up on the main viewer. “It’s an old surveillance photo from a file dump the CIA had on the members before they disbanded. From what I understand, these were the men running the show.”
Tierney stared at the image, heart lodged in her throat, chest tight, as she studied the lines of their jaws. The way the light caught their silhouette. One was large, volatile-looking, caught mid-shout. The other stood slightly behind him, perfectly still, impeccably controlled. While she’d never gotten a good look at either man, she recognized the instant punch of dread. The way her pulse thundered in her ears, the cold sweat slicking her skin.
Buck squeezed her hand, and she jumped, snapping her gaze to him as he frowned, glanced at the photo, then back to her. “Tier? You, okay?”
She focused on the image, again. “I…”
Buck leaned closer. “Take your time. It’s okay if you aren’t?—”
“It’s them.”
Sloane looked over at her. “Them? As in you know both?”
Tierney swallowed. “The big guy on the left. He’s the one on the phone. He was loud. Always in everyone’s face.”
Sloane tapped her keyboard. “His name’s Kellan Pike. Former SAS, dishonorably discharged. Heavy wet-work.”
“Who’s the other guy? The quiet one who had that damn lighter?”
“Vaughan Grieves. That’s all I’ve got. He’s a ghost in the system, but now that I know who I’m looking for, I’ll uncover every last detail about these two.”
Tierney fisted her hands. “I don’t just want details, I want Pike. I want Grieves. And I want the bastard who sold my team to them.”
Chapter Nine
Buck leaned against the doorframe to the Raven’s Security gym, watching Tierney wage war against the heavy bag in the far corner. She’d been at it on and off for the past couple days, despite the fact Buck was sure her ribs still ached. But being sequestered to the building for five days straight — staring at the phone, cursing the continued silence — had started taking a toll, and she’d needed the mental and physical relief.
His gaze strayed to the way her muscles flexed as she landed a hard, left hook. How she shifted her weight, ready to dance away at a moment’s notice. She was beauty and grace, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay afloat without latching onto her like a lifeline.
They’d been dancing around their unrelenting attraction, stealing kisses when the pressure seemed to reach the breaking point. But neither of them had taken it further. Not with that threat of the call hanging over them like a storm cloud. The stress of being trapped inside the same four walls driving Tierney to the brink.
They’d finally gone back to the marina last night after helping Zain and the others install a new window and board up the hole left by the explosive. Zain had waved it off. Said he’d wanted to put in a blast-proof door anyway, and now he had the perfect excuse. But even staying out in the living room, Tierney had been restless. Like a caged animal moments before a fight.
She hit the bag again, worked through a complicated sequence as he walked in, moving around to hold the bag while she slipped in a series of jabs.
He smiled, arms absorbing the shock until she finally straightened, sweat beading her brow, chest heaving. He gestured to the punching bag. “You know you’re supposed to save some of that fight for Pike, right?”
She grunted, looking as if she wanted to go another round when she palmed the bag. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of fight left for him.”
