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Forever Notorious: Forever Bluegrass #11

Page 8

by Kathleen Brooks


  * * *

  “You moaned,” Dylan said in a low whisper as he leaned forward in the helicopter so only she could hear. “Do his kisses make you moan like mine do?”

  Abby’s breathing accelerated as she forced herself to keep her eyes on Dylan’s. “I told you, we’re not together. I can’t be with someone in a real relationship with my job.”

  “That was before. Now everything has changed,” Dylan said, his face hardening again. Abby gulped at the angles of his face in the darkness. She knew that face. She knew those lips. And she missed them.

  “Nothing has changed,” Abby said as she turned her head away from him.

  “We’ll talk about this when we’re alone.”

  Abby didn’t know if that was a threat or a promise. It didn’t matter since the helicopter was coming in for a landing at Fort Davis in Panama.

  8

  Abby, Sebastian, Dylan, and Dylan’s lieutenant colonel were ushered into a small room with a video feed to Lewis. She knew somewhere Birch was listening, but he’d never acknowledge it.

  “I’m glad you’re safe. You look a little rough around the edges, but I’ve seen you worse.”

  Abby smiled at her boss. “I’m fine, thanks. Where you able to track Chet’s helicopter?”

  “Yes, he didn’t go far. We found the helicopter, but by the time we got satellite and drone footage on it, he was gone. We don’t know if he left by car or boat. Based on your video footage, we know one thing. He’ll be after you.”

  “Let him come.” Abby was ready for a fight.

  “Abby, “Lewis said softly. “He knows your real identity and where you’re from. He knows your family, Abby.”

  “What?” Dylan asked with a harshness to his voice she hadn’t heard before.

  Lewis ignored him and looked at Sebastian. “Sebastian, you’re going to be escorted to the White House where you will stay until Chet is caught.”

  “He knows who you are, Abby?” Dylan asked, ignoring Lewis and turning to Abby.

  “I’m sorry,” Lewis said, cutting Dylan off. “Do you two know each other?”

  “Yes,” they both answered at the same time.

  “We grew up together,” Abby explained.

  Sebastian’s eyebrow went up, but he didn’t say anything. Abby thought it looked as if he were coming to some conclusion about them.

  “You did?” Lewis asked with surprise. “Apparently I just need to set up a recruiting office in your town.”

  The screen had been cut in two, one half showing Lewis, the other side black. But now it flickered to life and Birch was looking worriedly into the camera. “Master Sergeant Davies, I want a moment alone with you and Abby.”

  “With all due respect, sir,” Dylan’s commander started but the president cut him off.

  “Alone. Now,” the president ordered when Dylan’s commander began to protest.

  The room cleared quickly as Dylan kept eye contact with Stratton. When the door closed, he gave the president a nod indicating they were clear. “I want you and your team in Keeneston for protection and for the capture of Chet Pottinger. Dead or alive. Preferably dead.”

  “Don’t send the team. Send me. Let my team keep working to protect the United States. Between Abby and me, Chet won’t have a chance,” Dylan said, looking to her for her reaction.

  “I agree. And if I could also suggest pulling Jackson Parker and his partners from FBI Hostage Rescue to assist?” Abby asked as Dylan nodded his agreement. They were totally in sync.

  “Are you sure?” Birch asked, and for once Abby saw the worry on the president’s face.

  “Yes, sir,” Abby answered. “We’ll bring in Chet Pottinger.”

  “Alive or dead,” Dylan finished.

  “And one more thing,” Abby said. “Tom should be put in charge of Beta Team until I’m able to return.”

  “Agreed,” Lewis added as Birch gave a slight nod of approval.

  “Then it’ll be done. Lewis will get Jackson Parker and his team to Keeneston ASAP. And get Tom in charge of Beta Team. Abby, report back when you’re home. Now I need to have a word with Dylan. Be safe, Abby.”

  “I will,” she promised before leaving the room. The door quietly clicked shut and the president let out a long breath. “The point of Delta Force is anonymity. I know enough about Keeneston from the reports compiled in Abby’s file that it will be hard for you two to keep it a secret on what you both do. If it becomes public knowledge who you two are, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to reassign you both or you’ll become easy targets for every terrorist out there.”

  “Start finding us alternative employment then. There’s no way the town won’t learn the truth. And honestly, it’s for the best they know what’s going on. They will aid us to the last shot. But they also know when to keep things quiet. Our covers will be safe.”

  “With Abby I can’t take the risk. Her career will be over. She’ll be splashed all over the paper and news if one word gets out. A woman SOG is big news. With you, I might have a little more leeway. But I can’t promise anything,” the president said, shaking his head slowly. “Are you willing to give up everything you’ve worked for to protect her?” the president asked quietly.

  “I am.”

  “Good. Take care of her, Dylan.”

  * * *

  Abby stood next to Sebastian as they waited for Dylan. No one said anything until Sebastian turned to her and looked down at her with an unreadable face. “Have I ever told you that you sometimes cry out when you have nightmares?”

  “I’ve never spent the night with you,” Abby said, looking behind her to ensure they weren’t overheard. The door was still shut and Dylan’s commander was leaving to talk to his team.

  “Not in the same bed, no. But in Atlanta and a couple of times when you fell asleep on the couch watching a movie with me.”

  “So? It’s practically in the job description to have nightmares. It’s not like I’m picking flowers for a living,” Abby said somewhat embarrassed and a little defensive.

  Sebastian reached out and rubbed her arms with his hands to calm her. “I know that. But you always call out one thing when you’re scared.”

  “I do?”

  Sebastian nodded. “You scream for Dylan. I didn’t know who Dylan was. I didn’t know if you’d killed him or you were hoping he’d help you. Tonight I got my answer. You’re a good friend, Abby. I want to keep it that way. I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you more than what I’ve been able to give you. But I now see it’s not my place to give you that.”

  * * *

  Dylan took a deep breath when he was finally alone and let the knowledge that he may no longer be in Delta Force sink in. He had known from the first time his Uncle Miles had told him about being in Special Forces that was what he’d wanted to do. He wasn’t outgoing and charming like Jackson. He wasn’t an inventor like his father or older sister, Piper. He did pick up a couple different languages from his younger sister, Cassidy. But when it came down to it, Dylan was nothing like the rest of his immediate family. He was the outsider—the black sheep.

  His mother was a fun pixie of a woman. His father was a genius inventor and farmer who had been the only Davies brother not to serve the military in some capacity. Uncles Miles, Marshall, and Cade and been in Special Forces. Uncle Cy had been a spy. But then his dad, Pierce, the youngest, had chosen to focus on studying instead of enlisting. And that was fine, until Dylan had talked to Uncle Miles.

  Dylan had always been different. He was the only one with dark hair. He was quiet. He liked to observe and take things in, but there was a wild current of thoughts and feelings inside. His interest in engineering was geared toward explosives instead of farming equipment. Yet he wasn’t as brave as his sister, Piper. Piper had set it all out on the line and found a man she loved. And instead of pushing him away, she married him. Dylan had found love but pushed it away instead of embracing it.

  Through that door was the woman Dylan had loved since he was thirteen. But he’d n
ever had the courage to tell her. Instead, when he was sixteen, he showed her. She thought she was in love with Jackson, but after a round of Truth or Dare and a kiss that he could still feel on his lips, she knew there was something between them. However, Dylan hadn’t gone after her when he was in high school. He hadn’t told her how he felt. He’d let her go off to college never knowing he cared for her. But even as a teenager he was cognizant of the career he wanted—a career that didn’t allow close attachments, or at the very least, was very unfair to the person left behind when he went to work. Especially when there was a decent chance he would not return home.

  Instead he’d shown Abby in other ways how he cared for her. Once a month, a bouquet of flowers had been delivered, anonymously, to her since she left for college. He’d been too scared to put his name on them. After she graduated college, Abby figured it out even though she’d never said anything to his face. He’d found a thank you note in her handwriting in his gym bag. And he didn’t say anything again because he could only offer her so much, and being a couple wasn’t one of them. But now things had changed. He’d almost lost her, and in more ways than just her life.

  Dylan took a deep breath. It was time to reconsider things now that their secrets were laid bare. First thing first, Sebastian had to go.

  Dylan pushed open the door and found Sebastian’s lips on Abby’s. His hands were cupping her cheeks gently and Dylan stood frozen. It was too late. She was his.

  “Goodbye, Abby,” Sebastian said. Although he was still cupping Abby’s face, Sebastian was looking over her head directly at him.

  Sebastian dropped his hands from her face and walked straight for Dylan. He held out his hand and Dylan thought about not shaking it, but his mother had taught him manners. Even if it meant shaking hands with the man who had been lucky enough to get the girl of his dreams.

  Sebastian’s hand wrapped tightly around his as Sebastian stepped close, probably so that he could gloat. “Take care of her. Abby needs someone who can love her. I can’t give her that. You can.”

  Dylan blinked as he processed Sebastian’s whispered words. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Sebastian gave a nod of acceptance and was then gone. Now was his chance. “Abby.”

  She turned to him, her face a mask disguising her emotions. “We need to get home.”

  Abby walked past him and Dylan reached out to touch her, but she was already out of reach yet again. Dylan took a deep breath, longing to hold her, longing to be with her. He was looking at the empty doorway when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and answered it.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Did the president talk to you, too?” Dylan asked.

  “What? No. Only the director of the FBI,” Jackson answered. “You got the president? Now I feel kinda cheap.”

  Dylan smiled at his cousin’s joke. “Where are you?”

  “Lucas, Talon, and I are packing. We’ll be in Keeneston soon.”

  “We’ll be there in a little while. We’re out of the country at the moment.”

  “We?” Jackson asked and Dylan heard him pause in the middle of packing.

  “Yeah. I’m with Abby.”

  There was silence.

  “Jackson?”

  “The director told us to get to Keeneston for a personal security detail of a CIA asset. What is going on, Dylan?”

  “I wouldn’t call her an asset. More like an operative. I pulled Abby out of a swimming pool at a terrorist’s house after he blew the place up with a RPG.”

  Silence.

  “I think you’re leaving some things out,” Jackson said slowly.

  “Abby is the first woman CIA SOG operative. She was trying to take down a terrorist cell, but they turned on her, and she was almost blown up. You know I’m military, but I’m not just military. My team was assigned as rescue and capture. It ended up being a rescue.”

  “Are you a SEAL? Is that how Walker knew you?” Jackson asked finally.

  “Army, not Navy.”

  “Shit. You’re in Delta Force, aren’t you? That explains the tattoo you’re allowed to have on your arm and the scruff you’re allowed to have as well. Damn. I feel like an idiot. Here I am complaining about my rescues when you’re freaking Delta Force and Abby is . . . well, let’s be honest, I’m not exactly surprised. She’s a badass.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Dylan said dryly.

  Jackson laughed. “Don’t worry. Your ego is safe. You’re a badass too. So, why Abby and why Keeneston?”

  “Chet Pottinger is a terrorist, and he knows Abby’s cover. He knows all about her, including info about her family.”

  “Chet Pottinger? That whiny little brat?”

  “Yup. Turns out he’s a whiny, power-hungry terrorist with a God complex.”

  There was silence for a couple beats and then laughter. “Can you imagine picking a worse family to go after? Ahmed will eat him for breakfast.”

  “Normally I’d feel the same way, but he and his followers killed a roomful of bad people, including Omar Wasti and Juan Carolinto. Don’t underestimate him. He’s brainwashed his followers into doing anything. He seems to think this is a big game.”

  “Damn,” Jackson muttered. “I don’t know whether to shoot him or thank him. Those are some bad people. But I’m guessing he didn’t kill them for the good of the world.”

  “You’re right. He’s taking over for them.”

  “And he’s coming to Keeneston?” Jackson asked.

  “As soon as he realizes Abby is alive, he’ll come after her.”

  “Got it. I’ll see you soon. Don’t worry. We’ll keep her safe.”

  Dylan nodded and hung up. Jackson wouldn’t have seen him nod, but it didn’t matter. Jackson knew Dylan had feelings for her. It was pretty hard to hide after that kiss in high school. Though Jackson didn’t have current information about Dylan’s feelings, Dylan knew the relationship between Jackson and Abby was simply that of best friends. Dylan had been careful to hide his feelings, and now he wished he hadn’t. Abby would have been able to handle his job since she was in an equally risky one. It wasn’t just that. She would always have understood. He should have trusted her and himself and been honest from the time he kissed her at sixteen.

  “Are you ready? We’re catching a cargo flight out of here in ten minutes,” Abby said from behind him as he hung up.

  “I’ll meet you there in five. I just have to grab some things. And then we need to talk.”

  Abby pursed her lips but then gave a slow nod. “Okay.”

  9

  National Guard, Lexington, Kentucky . . .

  * * *

  “You owe me a talk,” Dylan whispered into her ear as they waited to get off the plane.

  “Yeah, sorry about falling asleep. We’ll get to it,” Abby promised as she hoped she’d be able to get off the plane quickly. She’d promised to talk to Dylan but willed herself to fall asleep instantly when she got on the plane. She was a coward. She could admit that to herself. She could also admit it had been very nice waking up with her cheek pressed to Dylan’s chest and his arm around her.

  That kiss in high school had changed everything. She had never allowed herself to think that there could be something serious and permanent between them. Abby respected the hell out of Dylan. For all of his toughness, he’d always treated her as his equal. It was one of the reasons she’d fallen head over heels in love with him. The trouble was, he was as emotionally unavailable as she was.

  Her friends in Keeneston talked about Dylan with hesitant reverence. They knew he was incredibly loyal, but his quiet and observant nature made people think he was standoffish. The same could be said of her. She would kill anyone who hurt a friend of hers. But she couldn’t tell her friends she loved them. Love was a weakness that could be exploited. They’d taught her that in CIA training.

  Abby turned her head back and looked up at Dylan. His black scruff was a day past needing a shave. He was in a fitted desert black tactical T-shirt the mil
itary and athletes wore. When he reached for his bag and coat, the edge of the black tattoo on his biceps peeked out. Abby already knew what it was. It was an intricate knot band with numbers hidden in between the interwoven knots. Numbers that represented the longitude and latitude of Keeneston. They weren’t in order, but Dylan had told her it was a piece of home he could take with him when he traveled for work. Now she knew why some numbers were hidden and why they were out of order. If he’d ever been killed or captured, his enemies wouldn’t be able to prove he was American. She’d figured he was Special Forces, but there was a big leap up to Delta Force. And she’d heard the others address him as master sergeant. Dylan had moved up the chain of command quickly, and at twenty-seven was already leading a team. It was beyond impressive. From what she knew from Grandpa Springer, who was the retired chief of staff of the Army, Dylan had all the makings of a very impressive career off the battlefield as well as on it.

  The door opened and Abby hurried toward it. Dylan kept pace with her, but right before they deplaned, he stopped her with his hand clasped to her hand. She felt his rough fingers grip hers as he pulled her to a stop. “You know our cover is going to be blown, and we’ll never be able to go back to our jobs, right?”

  “What do you mean?” Abby asked, her mind reeling. No one said anything about them losing their jobs.

  “Well, your cover is blown. Chet knows who you are, and soon any number of people could learn who you are. And mine as well because I offered to protect you. If our names go public, we’re done and we won’t be able to get past the Keeneston interrogation. They’re going to put two and two together faster than Chet did. So don’t even try to hide anymore. Be you and I’ll be me. Finally nothing but the truth, Abby.”

 

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