Chapter9
If Cole had a dollar for every time he’d been dragged into an unmarked van, had a black bag shoved over his head, was driven to an undisclosed location and cuffed to a metal chair…well, he’d have two dollars.Which wasn’t much, but it was weird that it’d happened twice.
On some level, he’d known this day would come.Operators like him didn’t usually stay alive long enough to retire.And if they did, they were never allowed to go completely free.Most—if not all—of them had “unfortunate accidents” shortly after they left their jobs.
Unless they blackmailed their boss like Cole had.
So, he wasn’t shocked that he’d been swept up.If it was his time to die, he could accept that.What he couldn’t accept was that Hadley had been dragged into his mess.
He couldn’t see her, what with the bag over his head and all, but he could feel her presence, smell her citrusy perfume, next to him.She was quiet, though.Waytoo quiet.
He’d reach out to her if his wrist wasn’t cuffed to a damn chair.But he stretched out his pinkie as far as he could.He felt her flinch when he made contact with her skin.“It’s going to be OK, Hadley,” he said.“I’ll take care of you.”
She didn’t say anything.He could barely hear her breathing.That’s how quiet she was.But after a pause long enough to make him deeply uncomfortable, she wrapped her own pinkie around his.
He let out a deep sigh of relief.She hadn’t completely shut down after everything she’d been through.Thank God.He could deal with anything else, but seeing this woman, this ray of sunlight, broken by trauma and fear was more than he could bear.
“Aw, that’s so sweet.Didn’t know you had it in you, Clayton.”
Fuuuccckkk.He knew that voice.
That’s when the bag was ripped off his head and he was face-to-face with someone hehappilywould’ve avoided the rest of his life.
His chin hit his chest.“Franklin.”
“You remember me.I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be.I have an eidetic memory.Couldn’t forget you if I wanted to.And believe me, Iwantto forget you.”
Franklin Ross hadn’t changed much since Cole had last seen him.Same ill-fitting, cheap brown suit.Same pot belly and half-balding head of pale brown hair.Same unkempt mustache that looked like it’d been ripped directly from a 70s porno and slapped on his sweaty, fat face.Yep.Franklin was still one ugly motherfucker.
It was just Cole’s unfortunate luck that Franklin wasn’t as stupid as he was ugly.
Franklin had been second in command on all of Cole’s missions.And while Cole had unearthed a plethora of dirt on the big boss, Franklin had always managed to stay clean.Hewasn’tclean, of course.He was just smart enough not to leave evidence behind.
Which was probably how Franklin was sitting here now, clearly in charge of dark ops.
Franklin leaned over and pulled the bag off Hadley’s head.She blinked owlishly at him before turning her eyes to Cole.He didn’t say anything, but he gave her a tiny nod, hoping she’d take it as a sign that she’d make it out of this mess.He’d make damn sure of it.Even if Franklin had to die.
Hell,especiallyif Franklin had to die.That’s what Cole would consider a win-win scenario.
“You have an eidetic memory?”Hadley whispered.
Which was a strange question to ask in their current situation.EvenColerecognized that.He imagined most people who’d had the kind of night she’d had would be catatonic or hysterical by now.So, the only conclusion he could make was that while Hadley was gorgeous, brave, and a fighter, she was also weird as fuck.He wished he didn’t find all that insanely attractive.
But he did.
“Yeah.Although, technically, that’s not why I remember Franklin here so well.Having an eidetic memory just means I can recall an image precisely even when it’s not present.But the memories don’t last that long.Franklin was just such an asshole that he’d be impossible to forget.”
“That’s so cool!I always kind of wondered how easy someone with a memory like that could clean up in Vegas, you know?Kind of like that movie?—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up!”Franklin shouted, pounding his fist down on the table in front of them with enough force to make Hadley flinch.“This isn’t social hour.Clayton, you know as well as I do that your deal with the government wasveryspecific.If you get so much as a speeding ticket, you’ll spend the rest of your days in a pit in Guantanamo Bay.”
“Good thing I haven’t gotten any speeding tickets,” he intoned, his voice flat as week-old diet Coke.
Franklin snorted.“Two dead men in your neighbor’s foyer definitely counts as a violation of the terms of your early retirement.”
Hadley’s brow furrowed.“Retirement?Government deal?What’s he talking about, Cole?”
