Page 59 of Sinner’s Game

The other three operatives are new to me. Derek Perez, Nova Freeman, and Shane Houston, all of whom joined Saint’s Angels after retiring from a covert military division.

I look at Ronan, a little freaked out. “I’m just meeting the one guy. Do you really think we need an entire battalion?”

He comes over and cups my chin, looking deep in my eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with your safety. Understand?”

I see Tamra’s brows rise, but I don’t care. Right then, I want to put my arms around him and cling to him until I can once again block out the strange reality of my current situation.

But I don’t. As much as I like this feeling of Ronan taking care of me, he doesn’t do relationships. And as much as I enjoyed last night, I know well enough that sex without commitment won’t work for me over the long haul. I bent my rules because Ronan makes me feel safe, and I trust him with my fragile heart. But I don’t expect to be afraid forever.

I knew it was only temporary when I said yes last night. And now, of course, I have to live with it.

“Angel?”

“Yes. Sorry. I understand.”

“You meet Mr. White with cover, or you don’t meet him at all. And you need to do it. We need to know what Mr. White knows about this person who stole your face.”

“I know. I understand. I just—” I glance around at all of them. “I wasn’t expecting such a big team. I think it’s finally hitting home what I’m in the middle of.”

“A safety net,” Nova says. A Black woman with a cultured British accent, she leans forward, her bead-adorned dreads brushing the table. “Thinks of us as your safety net, and rest assured that we won’t fail you.”

“Everyone on this team is an exceptional asset,” Ronan says. “I don’t expect anything to go wrong, but no one sitting at this table has stayed alive by expecting the best. Rather we plan for the worst.”

“The worst,” I repeat, my eyes darting to Tamra, who gives me an encouraging smile. “Okay. Yeah. That makes sense.” I take a deep breath. “But could we start out by talking about the best? I mean, we sent that reply with the meeting location, so the first good thing to happen will be that he shows up at all.”

“Correct,” Derek says, stroking his orange-red beard.

“And then what? He comes, he sits down. But what do I say? What do I ask?”

“We’ll rehearse everything,” Ronan says. “But basically, you’re playing a role. And based on everything he’s said to you on the street and in the email, he thinks you’re an assassin. You said he was acting nervous on the street. Of course he was.”

“Which means you have the upper hand,” Shane puts in. He has long hair swept back into a ponytail and a patchy scruff of beard. I have no idea if he surfs, but I can easily imagine him on a board.

“Exactly,” Derek says. “So you’ll ask him for more details about the nature of the job.”

Ronan is the only one still standing, and he comes behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Assure him that you chose the location because it’s a place where you feel comfortable talking freely. Tell him you need to know everything in order to give him a quote. You need the target and a time frame. All the specifics.”

“Stay business-like,” Penn adds, his broad, stocky frame filling the chair. “But see if you can find out how he first heard of you.”

“Only if it seems natural,” Ronan adds. “Getting intel isn’t on you. We’ll take care of that.”

“How?”

“You’ll be on comms, remember? We’ll hear everything.”

I nod, running everything we’ve just talked about over in my head. Maybe it’s not that scary after all. I’m no actress, but even I should be able to pull this off.

“Okay,” I say. “I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Shane says, and the others nod.

Ronan gives my shoulder a squeeze as he passes beside me to reach the head of the table. He presses a button, and part of the surface pops up, revealing a keyboard. He taps, then a screen descends on the far side of the room, the DSF logo prominent as the computer boots up.

I settle into one of the chairs, but only half-listen as Ronan runs through the mission specs for each of them. Everything is for my benefit, true, but I have nothing to do with manning a post or checking comms. I’m the one being guarded, no matter how much they sugarcoat it with how easy my job will be. The bottom line is the same—I’m the one meeting with a man who thinks I’m an assassin.

I know it’s only a mission to gather intel. And I know that the fact that these five operatives are going to be there as well isn’t a sign that Ronan expects danger. It’s just the way they do things, especially when a civilian—me—is in the midst of all of this.

I close my eyes, thinking about what Ronan said earlier.