“They picked up their gear at our location in Fort Worth around one, so they still have some driving ahead of them.” Jessica brought her face closer to the screen and grabbed her glasses. “What the hell is he doing?”
“Roman?” Adriana stood and rounded the desk to view Jessica’s laptop.
“I’m gonna kill him myself! He left his room, damn it.” She reached for her phone and called someone. “It’s me. Sorry to wake you, but Roman’s on the move. He may be making a run for it.”
“I don’t think so.” Adriana directed Jessica’s focus to the screen. “He’s hovering near that building.”
“Get the guys ready in case things get hot, and Roman needs an extract.” She was probably talking to Harper, but could four Navy SEALs go up against an entire armed militia and without it turning into a bloody mess?
“Should I get Knox?” Adriana asked her once Jessica ended the call.
“No, not unless things turn ugly. There’s nothing he can do right now, anyway, and he’ll lose his mind watching this.” She dialed someone else next.
“Do you hear that?” Adriana crouched and pressed her ear closer to the computer. “Can you isolate the background noise? I think he’s listening to someone talk, but it’s pretty faint.”
“Hang on, Luke.” Jessica set her phone down, placed it on speaker, and began playing around with the sound.
“You getting this?” Roman’s voice came through the screen. “Moving in to see who’s talking.”
“Roman,” Jessica hissed as if he could hear her.
Could he hear her? What the hell kind of technology were they using? “He’s looking through a window now.” Adriana pointed. “Looks like a woman inside. Can we freeze the frame and get an ID?”
“What’s happening?” Luke asked, alarm in his tone. “Tell me something.”
“Roman’s got eyes on someone talking,” Adriana answered while Jessica worked at making the image clearer since they were looking through a window with partially open blinds.
Maybe she should get Knox? He’d be pissed to be kept out of this, but he’d also be useless to them without sleep.
“I have a visual. I recognize her. It’s Darius’s wife, Nina, on the phone,” Jessica said after a moment. “I’m still working on making out the conversation.”
“Roman’s leaving now,” Adriana said, her heart pounding wildly. “Looks like he’s heading back to his cabin.” Now he needed to get there without getting caught. Her hands fisted at her sides as she waited. “He made it!” She briefly hung her head.
“Thank God,” Luke rasped over the line.
“I’m about to play back what I strung together from the recording. It’s gonna be fragmented, but here we go.” Jessica pressed play.
“Ike won’t turn. I trust him,” Nina said. “That wasn’t the . . .” She paused. “If you change the . . . I can . . . you still want Bennett dead, right?” Another long pause. “Terms have changed. You forget that I came to . . . I . . . who you are.”
Shit.
“Keep your hush money,” Nina replied to the caller a few seconds later. “This was never about . . . and if you think I don’t . . .” Quiet filled the line after that.
“That’s all I got,” Jessica said. “I’ll keep playing around with it to see if I can get more.”
“I don’t know what the hell to think,” Luke replied. “Sounds to me like Darius’s wife is the one in charge, not Darius.”
Adriana replayed Nina’s words in her head. “What the hell was she talking about?”
“Sounds like someone tried to buy her silence,” Luke said. “And maybe he convinced her to kill Knox’s dad.”
“Yeah, well, lucky for us, the plan failed.” Jessica stood. “And we’re for damn sure gonna keep it like that.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Adriana leaned against the wall alongside the bed in her hotel room, using it for support as she contemplated how to tell Knox what went down while he’d been asleep.
Sitting upright, he dropped his feet off to the side of the bed. He was still in his khakis and black tee from last night, but she’d brought clean clothes for him to change into.
His gaze swerved up to hers as he scratched at the stubble on his jaw. His eyes were still a bit bloodshot. A few hours of sleep wouldn’t make up for all the hours he’d lost that week.
“I’m really sorry I showed up at your door in the middle of the night drunk.” His voice was scratchy, and he smoothed a hand down his throat.
She pointed to the coffee she’d placed alongside his bed. A bottle of water and two ibuprofens, too. She’d had experience with her father over the years. Thankfully he was sober now, and she knew Knox wasn’t her dad, but hangover slash lack-of-sleep headaches were known to be brutal.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she admitted. “The reason sucks, but I’m always happy to see you.”
After he popped the pills and took a few sips of the coffee, she pushed away from the wall to get a touch closer to his side of the bed.
On a scale of one to ten, how pissed would he be at her and Jessica for letting him sleep?
“So.” Her tongue clicked to the roof of her mouth as she fought for how to unveil the truth.
“We should probably talk about what I said to you last night.” He set the coffee aside and straightened his spine.
“As much as I want to hear what you have to say, there’s something I need to share first,” she said softly.
“What’s wrong?” Worry inched through his tone.
“I went to your room when you fell asleep,” she began. “I wanted to let Jessica know you were okay, but Roman—”
He rose immediately. “What happened?” His chest lifted and fell with deep inhalations.
“Roman left his room and wandered the compound. He was trying to find out information, I guess.”
“He did what?” He tilted his face to the ceiling, closed his eyes, and cursed under his breath. “Tell me he didn’t get caught.”
“He’s fine.” She probably should’ve led with that, damn it. “After some digging, Jessica discovered Darius is really the muscle, and his wife, Nina, is the brains behind the militia. She’s running the show.”
“What?”
“Roman overheard Nina on the phone. Someone tried to pay her to keep quiet about something, as well as hire her to kill your father.” She tipped her head to the door. “Jessica can fill you in on the rest. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. We, uh . . .”
“Don’t apologize. It’s about the last thing in the world you ever need to do.” He reached for her hand and tugged her against him. “We’ll get through this, I promise.” His eyes lowered to her mouth, and then he kissed her with gentle lips.
She struggled to hide the moan building inside of her, but after years of staring at his mouth and dreaming of his kisses, she couldn’t hide her feelings anymore.
“Addy.” Her name vibrated against her lips, and he deepened the kiss. His hands went to her backside, and his fingertips buried into the denim fabric of her jeans. His mouth moved to her neck, and he lightly nipped her earlobe. “I wish you had those shorts on from last night.”
“And we’d never leave this room if I did.” Heat traveled through her body, and her silk panties dampened.
“True.” He pulled back and lifted his palms to her face. “I wish we could stay in this room,” he said gruffly, desire darkening his eyes.
But they couldn’t.
There wasn’t time for “date two.”
“You should change. Jessica is waiting.” Softness curled around her words as she did her best to be good and not fist his shirt and pull him back against her.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. His hands still framing her face. “One more kiss, though.” He leaned in and brought his mouth to hers, stealing her sanity. Her desire to be good.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to be bad. She wanted to be the little devil in red leather sitting on her shoulder, the v
ixen who’d whispered naughty thoughts about Knox over the years.
And when his hands dipped and slipped under her shirt once her back was to the wall, and he shoved her bra up to get to her nipples, she cried out a gasp, one that could probably be heard in the room next door—Calloway’s damn room.
“Fuck, Addy.” He palmed her breasts, breaking his mouth from hers so he could drop a few more curses.
He moved his hands to her thighs, guiding her to wrap her legs around his hips, and she followed his command, her body greedy for whatever moment they could steal before they had to get work-focused again.
“We.” He kissed her, his hands wandering back up her shirt and to her breasts. “Should.” Another quick kiss. “Go.”
“Then.” She kissed him back. “Stop.” One more time. “Pinching my nipples.”
She could feel his smile against her mouth, and she lowered her legs to the floor once he removed his hands from beneath her shirt.
“This sucks.” He brushed her hair off her shoulders.
“You’re the one who decided to make us wait the other night,” she reminded him, then tucked her lip between her teeth.
His palm went to the wall over her shoulder, and he angled his head. “I should probably take a quick five-minute shower first. Care to join me?”
She laughed. “That shower would last a lot longer than five minutes. And you don’t make a pregnant woman wait.”
“You don’t make Jessica wait. Period.” He smiled. “We’ll pick this up later. I promise.”
But later was the ball, so . . .
Knox swapped his clothes for the clean ones. He’d changed in the bathroom, per her request. She’d been worried what seeing him naked would do to her. She also quickly traded her underwear for a new pair since she smelled like sex after their near hookup.
A few minutes later, they made their way to Jessica’s room, but the heat between her thighs remained no matter how many times she’d tried to reset her focus.
“You okay?” Jessica asked the second they entered the room as she made her way to Knox.
They really were a tight unit, weren’t they? There was a lot he had to tell her, but she’d be patient. She’d waited years. What were a few more hours or days?
“I’ll be better when I know what’s going on,” he said while hugging Jessica.
She let go of Knox and went to her desk. “I found some photos of Nina and Darius together before they were married. Looks like they met during a government protest—both were arrested that day. Married six months later.”
“Why does she hate Uncle Sam? My parents?” he asked as Adriana settled onto the couch.
“Still working on a theory about your parents, but what I do know is her dad worked for the government. He was stationed at the American Embassy in Iran in the late seventies, and so the family lived there. Her father died in a car accident three weeks before the Iranian Hostage Crisis of seventy-nine. Nina found her mom OD’d on pills in the bedroom a few hours after learning of the father’s death.”
Knox stood off to the side of the desk. “Why does this sound like this is a bullshit cover-up?”
“Because it feels like one,” Adriana responded.
“According to the reports, her mom couldn’t handle the husband’s death, and so she killed herself,” Jessica said. “Nina had a younger sister. They were shipped back to the U.S. to live with an uncle, but he didn’t want them. They were bounced around in the system. Nina was adopted but not her sister. And six years later her sister got ill and passed away.”
“So, she blames our government for everyone close to her dying because her dad had been stationed in Iran,” Knox said.
Jessica straightened in her seat. “I think Nina’s background shaped who she became, but I don’t think it’s reason enough for her to suddenly want to kill your dad. Something had to have set her off, and I’d assume more recently, or she would’ve gone after him before now.”
“It sounds like this person specifically hired Nina to kill your dad,” Adriana said. “Maybe even provided her with the motive—a motive aside from money. Although from the sounds of it, Nina went to the mystery caller first if she was being paid to keep quiet about something, right?”
Instead of answering, Jessica lightly rubbed her stomach, and her lips tucked inward as if there was something she wanted to say but resisted.
“What is it?” Knox asked, clearly noticing the look, too.
“Nina’s dad worked for the State Department,” Jessica began, “but everything about his work, his death . . . those files are redacted. Line by line almost all of them have been blacked out.”
“So, his death was a cover-up?” His hands rested on his hips, and he appeared to be in military-mode again, all evidence of his desire replaced by his need for justice. Or maybe he hid his feelings better than her?
“Not only his death,” Jessica said.
“You’re thinking—”
“Nina’s dad was CIA,” Jessica said with a nod. “And I’m thinking her parents were murdered.”
“But what does that have to do with my dad?” He shifted to the side and caught Adriana’s eyes before focusing back on Jessica.
“Not your dad.” Jessica was quiet as she stood. “Your mom ever tell you anything about her job at the State Department?”
“You’re not actually suggesting my mom was a spook, are you?” he asked. His tone all hard edges and zero humor.
“I don’t have an answer for you. But your mom was at the embassy in seventy-nine, and she may have known Nina’s dad. Maybe someone told Nina your mom is responsible for the death of her parents,” Jessica offered. “Things were a mess over there at the time, and if she blames your mom, maybe she wants to kill your dad as revenge. Nina might want to make your mom suffer the way she feels she has.”
Shit. Adriana brought a hand to her mouth.
“There has to be another explanation.” He cut his hands through the air and spun around to face Adriana, but his shoulders slumped with defeat. “My mom can’t be a spy, and no way did she have anything to do with Nina’s family dying.”
“There’s only one way to find out, right?” Adriana kept her voice soft.
Knox closed his eyes, his hands bunching at his sides. “Yeah,” he said after taking a deep breath. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I need the room.” Knox faced Calloway and the other Secret Service agent in his father’s hotel suite. “I need to speak to my parents privately.” His entire body tensed. Muscles atop muscles locking tighter.
Echo Four was alone on a compound with a shit-ton of armed government haters, and it was very possible his mom was the reason for it.
“What’s wrong?” Frowning, his mom removed her glasses and set aside the newspaper she’d been reading. Her questioning gaze held his, searching for answers. And then the frown dissolved and the delicate skin around her blue eyes relaxed a touch when realization hit her.
She knew why Knox was looking at her with barely restrained emotions. He saw it on her face, and in her rigid posture, which meant everything he thought about her had been a lie.
His knees buckled as a thought struck him. He was his mom. He lived the same lie. How the hell had this happened?
“Sir?” Rodriguez sought permission from Knox’s dad whether or not to clear Secret Service from the room.
“Yes.” His dad motioned for Knox to have a seat on the chair in front of him.
Knox waited for the room to empty, but he didn’t sit. How could he when . . .?
“Does he know?” he asked, his voice straining.
The color drained from her face.
“Know what?” His dad semi-smiled as if he was missing out on a joke. “Know what?” he repeated, angrier this time.
“No.” Her gaze moved to the window overlooking the buildings in the city.
Thirty-nine years of marriage. Thirty-nine years of lies.
“Somebody better fill
me in before I lose my damn mind.” His dad stood and looked back and forth between his wife and son.
But she still wasn’t looking at them, damn it.
“How’d you find out?” she asked, her voice eerily calm. Maybe she was in shock? Her eyes dragged from the window to his father at an irritatingly slow pace.
“While trying to figure out the damn mess you seemed to have gotten us all into,” he seethed through barely parted lips.
His dad stabbed a finger in the air. “Boy, don’t you talk to your mother like that.”
“Are you gonna tell him?” Knox’s fingertips tucked inside his palms. “I don’t want to do it for you. I won’t do it for you.”
“Dear.” His dad lowered his voice this time. “What’s going on?”
“I was planning on telling you,” she said softly. “It never felt like the right time, but I was worried it may come out sooner or later if you ran for president.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry.” Her gaze moved to Knox, and her next words were spoken in the manner of a seasoned politician’s wife, a role she played so well—calm, methodical, all about the facts. “Who broke the story? How can we get on top of this? I can make a speech, I guess. I’ve thought about this since they mentioned it might come out and . . .”
“The press don’t know—only my people.” The press. The fucking press. Really? That’s your focus?
“I still don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about,” his dad snapped, and for the first time in Knox’s life, he felt sorry for him. “Now, damn it, if someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is going on—”
“I was in the CIA, Isaiah,” she interrupted. “This isn’t about that, though. Your son is referring to the off-the-books team I was part of.”
What? His stomach dropped at the news. No. No. No.
President Rydell’s words from the Situation Room on Tuesday flew back to mind. “Lyle also mentioned rumors of black ops groups existing under previous administrations during the Cold War days. Groups that’d gone sideways.”
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