To the Xtreme (Xtreme Ops Book 2)

by Em Petrova

  Slowly, she drew free and he opened his eyes to find her studying him. She rubbed her thumb over his lower lip. “I thought you were more robot than man,” she confessed.

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “What would make that thought enter your head?”

  “After you stood on your ankle and dropped, you got right back up to do it again.”

  He chuckled. “That doesn’t make me sound very smart.”

  “Just determined. I knew your character in that moment.”

  “And I knew yours—that you’re helpful and kind and willing to step up to any task.”

  Her shy smile warmed his heart. As she ducked her head, he cuddled her into his chest and breathed in her woodsy scent. Thank Christ she realized that Jack could be a problem, but it did hurt Lipton that her view of the world had been tarnished at all. Part of her sweetness lay in her openness toward every single creature—human or animal.

  They lay wreathed in each other’s arms for a long minute. Then he raised his head. “Do you hear knocking?”

  As soon as he spoke, the tap became a pounding. They leaped apart and out of bed. He quickly grabbed his clothes, and she helped him locate what he needed so he could answer the door.

  “Go,” she said as soon as he fastened his jeans.

  When he whipped open the door and faced down Broshears, he shifted into special operative mode. Bracing his legs apart, he gestured him inside and closed the door. “What’s going on?”

  “I tried to call but couldn’t get you.”

  Fuck, had he gotten so wrapped up in Jenna that he didn’t hear his phone?

  “We found something. It’s big.”

  He threw a look over his shoulder but didn’t see Jenna emerge from the bedroom. “Let’s step outside and you can fill me in.”

  He opened the door wide enough for Broshears to exit. He followed.

  “Fill me in,” Lipton said.

  “We took your suggestion and set up trail cameras throughout the park.”

  “I have a feeling you aren’t going to tell me you caught Bigfoot.”

  Broshears ignored his statement and continued, “Lots of wildlife, as you can imagine. A hiker or two, which we tracked down and investigated. But we got footage of someone entering the trapper shack in the night.”

  His muscles locked as he braced for action. “Who was it?”

  “Paul Gibson.”

  Lipton had been so prepared to hear the name Jack or Joshua King that he didn’t fully register what Broshears said at first.

  “The older park ranger? The one who everyone looks up to?”

  “That’s the guy.”

  “What do you think he was doing there? Is it his job to check the place?”

  Broshears shook his head. “I don’t think so. We believe he’s the one who’s been using the place and storing his supplies there.”

  Lipton took a long moment to digest this information. He ran his hand over his face, wondering how the hell to break the news that not only was Jack not who she believed but neither was Paul.

  “Fucking hell. Jenna’s going to get a double blow today.”

  Broshears didn’t respond to his statement, and Lipton roused from his personal dilemma to focus on the problem.

  “Have you tracked him down yet?” he asked.

  Broshears stared past him at the surroundings—his mind obviously far away with the team. “We’re workin’ on it. Nobody’s seen him for the past twenty-four hours.”

  “Think he knows we’re on to him?”

  “Possible. Gasper and Beckett did some digging around and got info from the owner of the mini-market outside the park that Gibson was in there yesterday, buying some supplies for a road trip.”

  He traded a heavy look with Broshears. “Either he’s skipped town to evade us or—”

  “He’s running short on other supplies and going to purchase some.”

  “I’ll dig into the database. Find anyone within the state limits who might be capable of obtaining explosives.”

  “Check out all the veterans. I know it’s wrong to suspect they might break the law, but some with mental issues might be stockpiling.”

  He nodded, his mind racing to another of Jenna’s friends—Al. If they added that man to the list of people she trusted but shouldn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  “I’m on it. Check in with me. I’ll also run his license plate and see if we can get some state troopers on his tail.”

  “Do that. I’ll inform Sullivan of your moves.” He started to turn to go.

  “One thing before you go, Broshears.”

  He swung back. They stood around the same height, and Broshears always possessed a dark glimmer in his eyes that Lipton had seen before in other men who’d been in battle. He knew the man had performed a few top-secret missions though he’d never even hinted at the nature of those missions with his teammates who’d lived through similar feats. But the government told them not to talk, they didn’t talk. Period.

  “You have evidence that Gibson entered the trapper shack, but did he take anything in—or out?”

  “He was wearing a backpack. Hepburn analyzed the footage and believes there’s a carabiner clipped to the handle.”

  “Climbing gear.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you catch any footage of him coming out?”

  Broshears nodded. “The pack didn’t appear to be heavier or lighter.”

  If Lipton had to guess, the backpack contained the climbing equipment that matched the rigging Jenna claimed went missing six months before.

  “Send me the footage immediately.”

  “Will do.”

  “Guts and glory, Broshears.”

  He shot him a glimmer of a smile. “Guts and glory.”

  The team motto had been handed down from other special forces within Homeland Security. Saying it now drove Lipton to focus on the mission and not on the sweet, dewy-eyed woman he’d just rolled around in bed with.

  Chapter Ten

  “Jenna, sit down.”

  She didn’t like Harris’s tone at all. Her insides began to quiver, but she slowly lowered herself to the chair flanking the fireplace. The box where he’d dropped his carvings didn’t have any new figures. He’d been too busy with the mission, the investigation…and with her.

  He stared at her for so long that she thought she’d go crazy waiting for what could only be bad news.

  “Joffrey died, didn’t he?” she asked at last.

  He blinked. “Joffrey… No. He’s still in the coma, on the mend.”

  “So what is it?”

  “We set up some trail cameras in hidden places that nobody would detect. We had one directed on the trapper shack.”

  “Oh God.” She felt the blood drain from her face.

  He crouched before her and took her hands. The warmth of his touch did nothing to quell the terror building inside her.

  “Harris, tell me please. I’m strong.”

  “I know you are.” He dipped his head and when he met her gaze once more, sorrow filled his eyes. “It was Paul.”

  She jolted. Of all the people she believed he’d name, Paul wasn’t one.

  She processed this information, flipped it over and over, upside down and sideways until she could see every angle before she spoke. “He could have been checking for damage to the cabin. Sometimes animals get inside and destroy—”

  He shook his head, cutting off her words. “We believe he entered for a different reason.”

  “But you found the bomb-making materials in that trapper shack. Paul might have been checking for more evidence.”

  “We don’t think that’s the case, Jenna.”

  She laughed, a harsh bark that shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the cabin up until now and jolted even her. She leaned forward, digging her fingers into her curls.

  “This could be something totally innocent, Harris.”

  “It could be, yes. But he’s also gone missing.”


  No. None of this made sense. She could believe Jack had been involved in some tech scandal, taken his light punishment and set off into the world in order to escape more temptation, his soiled reputation or both. But she would not—could not—believe that Paul would do something so atrocious as plant explosives and kill and injure visitors to the park they all loved so much.

  “No way,” she whispered.

  “Jenna, we need to consider it as a possibility,” he said gently.

  “When was the last time anybody saw him?”

  “He was spotted at the mini-mart, and the owner said Paul claimed to be taking a road trip.”

  Oh God. That earth that seemed to crumble when she learned about Jack’s true identity and hidden past shook apart beneath her now, leaving her clinging to the rim of an endless chasm. If she dropped, she didn’t know how she’d ever climb out again. All she knew, believed in and loved would be a house of lies. She wouldn’t be able to put her trust and faith in her fellow park rangers again, let alone anybody else.

  That suspicious nature that Harris claimed came from keeping company with him would forever be part of her.

  Her brows crinkled, and she dug her fingers into her hair again. “That could mean anything. He sometimes visits family.”

  “Yes, and I want their names in a minute.”

  She laughed again, and this time it took on a cynical note. “So I’m supposed to help you find my friend so you can hang this terrorist act on him?”

  “Jenna, we’re just doing our jobs. You, me and the team.”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “I realize that.”

  “He taught me so much.”

  “I know that too. What we need to figure out is where he is so we can find him and ask him some questions. And hopefully rule him out as a suspect.”

  She went dead inside as a sudden realization struck. “Government cuts,” she whispered.

  Harris’s gaze never left her face. “What about them?”

  “The government cuts are a rumor for now, but Paul has been talking about it a lot. He’s worried he’ll be laid off from work, and since he’s older, he’d be the first to go. He doesn’t want early retirement. This park is his life.”

  Harris launched from his crouching position to his feet and strode to the desk without the help of the crutches he should be using. He sat down and started hammering at the keyboard, bringing up screen after screen. She saw him hit send on some intel before she wedged herself between him and the desk.

  “Stop! Harris, don’t you care about my thoughts at all? Paul is my friend. Even if he’s responsible…we can’t just turn him in for a life in prison!”

  He settled his hands on her hips. “Remember he blew the windows out of the cabin. He could have hurt you, Jenna.”

  She ignored his statement, even though it was true Paul had also put her life at risk.

  “Harris, you can’t do this. If Paul really is behind this…he’s only doing it to keep his job.” Her heart was breaking.

  “Jenna, we both know this has to happen. You can’t shield Paul just because he’s your friend.”

  Disgust rolled through her, for what Harris really was. “Can’t you see anything but the mission? There are people’s lives at stake!”

  His eyes burned into hers. “Exactly—I’m trying to save people from dying in this park.”

  His phone buzzed, and he released her hips to plant it against his ear. “Got it. Give me two.”

  After lowering the phone, he looked to Jenna. “I’m asking you to move so I can do what I need to do, sweetheart.”

  Her heart dropped. “I’m not your sweetheart. Or your fairy nymph. And I’m not sticking around here.”

  He searched her eyes for a long moment. “Fine. You’re free to go.”

  Swallowing a rasp of a cry, she scooted out from between the desk and Harris’s body and strode to the bedroom. She grabbed her bag and stuffed whatever belongings were scattered around inside it. Her heart felt shattered, along with her nerves and her beliefs in the world.

  One thing held true from the start—she and Harris Lipton were very different people and they’d never work.

  When she walked out, she sent a glare at Harris’s back. All she heard was the clack of the keys as he typed. His phone rang, and he put it on speaker.

  “Penn. I got him. He’s headed north, and there aren’t many roads that direction. If my instincts are right, I think he might be heading to this small town. I’m sending Cora the coordinates now. There’s a guy who police have visited on several occasions. I’ve got two reports of threats—” Realizing Jenna stood there listening, Harris cut off Captain Sullivan’s voice with a stab of his finger. He brought the phone to his ear, but his gaze slid to the bag she held and finally up to her face. Was it her imagination or did a silent plea project from his eyes?

  She steeled her legs, either to hold herself in place or keep from running to him and ending both their torment. They might be standing on opposite sides of the war, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about him. And that expression in his eyes said he cared about her too.

  Harris spoke into his cell. “I’ll be ready.”

  He ended the call and got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Jenna. We need to have a conversation, but I’ve gotta go with them and end this.”

  She nodded. “I know. I’ve always known it. You’re all about the guts and glory.”

  Jenna had heard the Xtreme Ops team use the motto as a way of saying farewell and be safe. But she’d used it in a totally other way.

  She used it to hurt Harris, and she couldn’t feel worse about doing so.

  The drive to her place from Denali National Park always provided her with a feeling of peace and solitude, time that she regrouped and recharged. Not today. A crawling anxiety took over her insides, leaving her alternately hot and cold, depending on what part of the situation she thought about.

  Paul…dear Paul. Was the older man truly responsible for the explosions? He really was the kindest, gentlest human she’d ever known—how was it possible for him to become a terrorist? Would the possible layoffs within the park actually drive him to this?

  She couldn’t see it.

  Yet she could.

  On several occasions Paul had expressed to her how upsetting it was to think of being laid off and how much he’d miss the rounds, the park rangers and the wild world they called their workplace.

  She heaved a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to think about the team hunting down her friend at this very moment, but of course she couldn’t leave it alone. It felt like a raw, open wound that she wished she could hide away and ignore.

  She was a fool for letting herself believe Harris would listen to her and stop what he was planning—that he might see her side, and the side of a desperate older man, and find another way to handle the situation.

  How wrong she’d been. While her body might get along fine with Harris Lipton, the way she viewed the world proved to be completely opposite of him.

  So stupid that she’d grown attached to him in mere days. She’d heard stories about people confusing lust with insta-love, and before meeting Harris, she believed she was far too levelheaded to experience such a thing.

  Yet here she sat aching for a man she felt she had gained in days and lost in moments.

  Why did it hurt so much?

  Gripping the steering wheel, she drove home on autopilot, but that meant her mind spun like a top.

  If Paul really was the criminal, he’d go to prison for murder and acts of terrorism. He’d hurt his own park ranger, Joffrey.

  He’d hurt Harris.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t see it from the man, and her ability to see good in every person wasn’t to blame.

  When she arrived at her small house tucked off the road and parked in the driveway, tears prickled at her eyes. Coming home felt good. So why had the cabin begun to feel like her home away from home?

  Because Harris was there.

 
; Days, she reminded herself. I’ve only known Harris for days and the sex meant nothing. We were blowing off steam.

  What she wouldn’t give for somebody to confide in right this minute—all her besties were men. Two of them she didn’t know like she thought she did.

  Her parents would listen if she called or video chatted with them, but she couldn’t confide the dirty, steamy details of her relationship with Harris. How sex had filled her with so many emotions she didn’t know how to cope with losing.

  She carried her belongings into the house and locked the door behind her. The place smelled as if it’d been closed for too long, so she went through the rooms opening windows.

  One reason she’d taken the huge step in purchasing this house as her personal haven was that she loved the amount of light that filled the rooms. The golden glow allowed her plants to thrive too. When she moved through the spaces, feeling the soil of each plant to see if it needed a drink, she found a ray of calm.

  She turned in a circle to drink it all in.

  Since she didn’t need a dining area and her small kitchen table served her just fine, she had created a library nook out of junk shop finds including two tall bookcases, a chair and ottoman and a side table big enough to hold a reading lamp as well as a mug of coffee, tea or cocoa, depending on her mood.

  She settled into the cozy chair and closed her eyes. Images bombarded her—of Harris’s eyes, so close as he moved in to claim her lips—and how cold and hard those same eyes could be.

  Her stomach ached, and she folded her arms around her middle. For long minutes her mind drifted.

  Where was Harris and his team right now? Barreling north to track down Paul? Why was Paul going north anyway?

  Her mind backtracked to two other times her friend had shared that he was taking a short road trip. The first time, Joffrey and Rick had teased him about having a date. But Paul only chuckled and told them he was picking up an item he found on the internet to buy.

  Could that item be explosive? Bomb-making equipment?

  The second time had been only six weeks ago, and Paul’s short break hadn’t been planned. He asked Joffrey to take his shifts and when he couldn’t because of previous plans, Jenna had taken the hours.