All We Are (The Six Series Book 5)

by Sonya Loveday

  He worried. I wasn’t sure he could help it either. For as tough as Oliver was, he had a soft spot, well hidden and about as deep as the Grand Canyon. His gruff mannerisms and barking tone aside, Oliver was one of the few people I trusted my life with because I knew he’d die before he ever let anything happen to me. An outlook even my husband didn’t have, but should have.

  I didn’t understand why Trent hadn’t sought me out once he’d regained his memories. What made him turn his back on everyone, including his own wife?

  Anger flashed through me, but went as quickly as it came, leaving behind the heavy weight of disappointment and sadness. It settled on my shoulders like a mantle of betrayal and loss.

  He’d loved me. I’d loved him. We had plans. We were going to grow old together, sneak out of Cole Enterprise one day, and go off the grid. Live somewhere no one would ever find us. A place only the two of us knew about.

  The memory of that night hit me so hard I stumbled, shoulder slamming into the wall. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was I’d exhausted myself to the point of falling over and was in no shape to do anything but sleep.

  But what if I was wrong? Was it that simple? Could he have taken our future and made it his hideout?

  Pushing off the wall, I rubbed my shoulder, wincing as it throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

  “Ella?” The concern in Riley’s voice reached me about the same time her hand caught my elbow as I listed sideways. “Whoa, been up for a while, have you?” she asked, guiding me along with the slightest of pressure.

  I grunted in response. It was all I had the energy to do.

  She stifled a sigh that could have been either understanding or exasperation, but remained quiet until she ushered me into my room.

  When she let go of my arm, I peeled the covers back, and then sat on the edge of the mattress trying to work up the last bit of energy to take off my boots.

  Riley had one of my T-shirts and a pair of cotton shorts in her hand. She stood in front of me as I struggled to untie my laces, shook her head, then brushed my hands away. When both feet were freed, I sighed, ready to keel over and pull the covers up to my chin.

  “Arms,” Riley said, clamping her hand on my shoulder.

  My arms wobbled in the air between us.

  She didn’t hold back her sigh. In fact, it sounded abnormally loud in the quietness of my room as she tugged the shirt I’d worn for a better part of two days off and then slipped the clean one on, feeding my arms back through.

  I fell over onto my side, oblivion calling out to me as Riley grumbled, “This would be a whole lot easier if you’d stop trying to curl into a ball.”

  Somehow, determination won and my cargo pants were replaced with the pair of shorts she’d dug up. The covers were tugged out from underneath my legs and settled over me as Riley said, “No man is worth what you’re doing to yourself, Ella.”

  I didn’t think she intended for me to hear that, saying it only because she thought I’d fallen asleep. But I’d heard her, and her words chased me into the deepest depths of my dreams and stayed with me until I woke.

  CHAPTER 3

  JOSH

  I stood beside Ella in front of Roman Flint’s desk, hardly able to keep myself from gaping like a complete idiot as I processed what he said.

  “I’m not doing it. Find someone else,” Ella said, moving to leave.

  Her waspish tone didn’t detour Flint though. He just nodded, smiled wide, and then said, “You either comply with the mission, or you can be reevaluated and—”

  “Don’t threaten me,” Ella replied, chest bowing out as she scowled.

  “Oh, it’s not a threat. Besides, I thought you were one of the few people we could really count on. What gives?” Flint asked, kicking back in his chair, tucking his arms behind his head as he waited for her to answer.

  She laughed. “What gives? You can seriously sit there and ask me that?”

  Flint ignored her question and looked to me. “And you?”

  I met his hardened stare with equal measure and shrugged. “I’m not the most-qualified person, but if that’s my assignment, that’s where I’ll go.”

  Flint sat up straight, settled his arms down on his desk, and laced his fingers as he said, “Good. That’s what I want to hear.”

  Ella stormed out, pace quickening when Flint called her name.

  When she didn’t come back, he let out a long sigh.

  “Maybe she just doesn’t want to be partnered up with me,” I said as Flint pulled a folder from the top of the stack sitting on his desk.

  “Doesn’t matter what she wants. Here, look this over. You’ll need to get familiar with the vessel layout before you board,” he answered, handing me the thick file, and then added, “She’ll come around once Oliver talks to her.”

  I doubted that, but I nodded and walked out with the file tucked under my arm, wondering if the job Flint handed over to us was a blessing or a curse.

  CHAPTER 4

  ELLA

  I tossed clothes in my suitcase, uncaring they were piling up right in the middle.

  Oliver had strolled in and plopped his interfering ass in the only chair in my room, watching without saying a word. And that made it worse because when he did speak, he’d have all his thoughts gathered, while mine were just as jumbled as my clothing.

  Looking at him aggravated me, so I reverted to just throwing things over my shoulder toward the bed. When my underwear drawer was empty, I had no choice but to turn around and finish by adding the two solitary dresses I owned.

  The sight before me would have been comical any other day. Unfortunately, funny skipped town, never to be heard from again, at least not until after I tracked down my murdering not-so-dead husband. Maybe then I’d feel at peace in my own mind enough to find the humor in things.

  Clenching my jaw, I went about picking up my underwear—strewn from the foot of the bed all the way to where Oliver sat, black lace hanging off his shoulder.

  He wore a smirk that made my own lips twitch, but I caught myself and formed a scowl instead as I snatched up the little black offenders clinging to him like Velcro.

  He cleared his throat. My shoulders went somewhere up around my ears as I tossed the underwear into my suitcase and then took the four steps past him to my closet.

  “Most girls would be in a panic trying to pack the right clothes for a cruise,” he said, humor lacing his words.

  I took the bait. “I’m not most girls.”

  He nodded, relaxing even further into the chair. “I would have thought you’d jump at the opportunity to do such a cake job and sail the high seas.”

  I thought about telling him what I’d remembered. Thought about it for like a whole two seconds before I decided against it. It wasn’t likely he’d side with me on it, or even go to Cole about it. I’d already tried to talk to Cole. He’d asked me to let him look into things so he could figure out what went wrong and possibly fix it. When I pushed, asking to be the one to go after Trent and bring him in myself, Cole had given me a ‘not up for negotiations’ no.

  “I have to finish packing,” I said, tossing the dresses into the mix of piled clothing and then disappearing into the bathroom to grab my makeup bag and all the other toiletries I’d need.

  When I came back out, Oliver stood over my suitcase. He folded my clothes and laid them neatly inside.

  I shouldered him out of the way as he reached for one of my bras. “Do you mind?”

  He nudged me back, shooing me away as he continued folding and stacking. “You obviously don’t know how to pack. Besides, I can’t sit here any longer and look at this mess. Is it Josh?”

  He changed subjects so fast I found myself stopping to process what he asked, but I still couldn’t make sense of it. “Is what Josh?”

  “The reason you don’t want to go on the cruise. I know he doesn’t have a lot of field experience, but he did okay on his first mission out.”

  He didn’t have to speak for Josh
. In fact, no one had to. Josh had done his job, and done it well. He’d kept calm under pressure. He hadn’t once slipped up on his cover. It was like he’d been born to be a chameleon, just like the rest of us.

  “Why can’t Riley go? Or Paige, or—”

  “If you’d have looked at the file, you’d know the reason why they aren’t going, and you are,” he answered, holding his hand out for my makeup bag. “It’s bad enough I had to corner you to pack and to tell you it was a cruise so you didn’t have a suitcase of cargo pants and black shirts. Look, if this is about Trent…”

  I slammed the door on my feelings, masked my face, and said, “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  Oliver sighed as he lifted my suitcase from the bed. “Yeah, well, you might not want to talk about him, but you’ll eventually have to.”

  “Not if I have any say in it,” I shot back, walking out of my room with Oliver right on my heels.

  “The past aside, I really think you should look at the file Flint gave Josh before you leave. You know how important it is to have all the intel on a job before you go out on assignment. Get your shit together, E.”

  I turned to give him a piece of my mind, but he brushed past me with quick strides, veering off around the corner.

  “Ella,” Paige called from the other end of the hallway.

  I turned, forcing my face into a neutral mask of indifference. It didn’t help because once Paige got a look at me, her eyebrows pulled together, face changing to one of concern. “You okay?”

  Out of everyone, Paige was the only one who got it. Who’d saw me at my most vulnerable when the shocking news of Trent’s resurrection had punched me in the heart like a defibrillator. That’s not true, Josh had been there too. But Josh, I reminded myself, was a man. And men, no matter how hard they tried, would never understand the inner workings or feelings of a woman betrayed.

  Instead of answering, I hitched my shoulder slightly. Noticing the bag in her hands, I asked, “Going somewhere?”

  She snorted. “No, thank God. But you are. And no self-respectable girl would allow her friend to go on a cruise without the right attire.”

  She pushed the bag toward me with a smile as I groaned. “I took a collection. There are enough bathing suits in there to get you through without having to wear the same one all the time. Oh, and there’s cover-ups and SPF-50 so you can coat that vampire-toned skin and not turn into a lobster.”

  I bit back what I really wanted to say and gave her a sharp nod, adding a brisk ‘thank you’ as an afterthought. There was no reason to be a raging bitch when Paige was just trying to be nice.

  “Have a safe trip,” Paige added, clasping her hands together, bottom lip pinched between her front teeth.

  “Oh good, you’re still here,” Riley said as her head popped around the corner of the intersecting hallway.

  My patience, thin as it already was, snapped. “Where the hell else would I be?”

  Riley rolled her eyes. “A little gratitude, Cinder-Ella. Especially since I just got a peek at your suitcase and realized how much you didn’t pack. Although, the one thing you won’t run out of for a while is clean underwear. Yeesh, I thought I had a Victoria Secret problem.”

  “You went through my suitcase?” What the hell was wrong with them? Busy-bodied, interfering shits. “And who said I needed bathing suits?”

  “Honey, we’re from the South. Bathing suits are everyday wear, so coming up with a few wasn’t much of a problem, especially since you’re going on a cruise,” Paige retorted.

  “You make it sound like that’s all people wear on a cruise. Who the hell runs around in a bathing suit all the time?” I snapped.

  “Southern girls do. At least in the summer,” Riley chided.

  Paige followed that up by saying, “See, we’re not afraid to get muddy or pretty. And we’re not above paradin’ our crazy on the front porch while we sip sweet tea and keep it company. We’re also damn good friends who make really bad enemies. We love with every bit of our southern-charmed hearts and bless those ignorant souls around us while making it sound like we’re being nice. Going through your suitcase? That’s our way of saying that we know you’re not taking care of yourself, so we’re gonna step in and mother hen the shit out of you until you do, so get over it.”

  “You’ll definitely need a few more dresses, and some shoes. Do yourself a favor and find some time to relax and have a little fun. Lord knows you need it,” Riley said, handing over another bag, larger than the one Paige gave me.

  “And what the hell am I supposed to do with these?” I asked, meaning the bags since Oliver had taken off with my suitcase.

  “Best advice? Wear the blue one—it’s Josh’s favorite color,” Riley answered, giving me a quick finger wave over her shoulder as she turned to walk away, adding, “Safe travels, Ella. Bring me back a shirt or something for all my troubles.”

  She laughed, damn her, as she walked away.

  Paige reached out to place her hand lightly on my shoulder and said, “Don’t mind her. She means well. We’ll see you when you get back.”

  The two of them left me standing in the hallway laden down with bags put together just for me. Hand delivered to me like some sort of an outreach of friendship through clothing and bantered comments. It had been a long time since I had any sort of female companionship. Even longer since I physically felt the touch of a genuine friend. One who didn’t expect anything from me other than conversation and unabashed honesty. It helped, in some small way, to feel as if I were a part of something bigger than just myself. To feel included, even if I didn’t want to be. Oliver had warned me about this group of friends. The Six, they called themselves. But they were so much more than that. Anyone with eyes could see it.

  CHAPTER 5

  JOSH

  Ella hadn’t said much on the car ride to the airport, or when we boarded the commercial flight booked for us. She wore, what I thought looked like, a mask of muted emotion. She was neither happy nor unhappy. If anything, she seemed like a human shell devoid of emotion. It made me more than a little uncomfortable to see it. And I couldn’t help but wonder what to say, or how to act around her.

  The plane bumped down the runway. The hum of the engine grew louder as the pilot pushed the heaving metal can forward, making everything shudder before the ground disappeared under the wheels and inertia shoved me back against my seat.

  At least whoever had booked our seats thought to put us in first class and not the cramped seating in economy, I thought as I stretched my legs out. Plus, it gave us a little more privacy to talk about the mission. I’d read the file, and it was pretty cut and dry. Arrive at the Port of Miami, board the multi-million-dollar privately owned yacht christened The Enchantress, and then pretend to be someone else for a leisurely four weeks.

  And who the hell could afford the use of a private yacht for a four-week vacation? Apparently, the bride’s father was loaded. And not only that, but the bride, Allyson, was none other than Ella’s childhood best friend.

  I glanced over at her as she stared out the window, watching an ocean of clouds swallowing us whole. How would Ella handle pulling the wool over Allyson’s eyes for four weeks? I knew I’d have a hell of a time keeping any sort of secret from my own friends.

  I’d cornered Oliver before we’d left, asking how Ella was requested if no one was supposed to know the identity of Cole Enterprise operatives.

  It was simple. He’d said, “Garret Baron is a high-profile client of Cole Enterprise. Has been for years. He’s the reason we have Ella.”

  I’d meant to ask more, but we’d been interrupted. Between packing and being ushered to the airport, there hadn’t been time.

  “Ella…” I said her name cautiously, turning in my seat once the plane leveled off. Her head, never leaving the headrest, rolled my way.

  I fought the urge to fidget. What was it about her that made me feel so jittery… so not myself? Then again, I’d always had the support of my friends around me, and I wo
re the comfort their presence gave me like an invisible cloak.

  I used the jarring bout of turbulence to gather my thoughts. Pull yourself together, damn it. She’s the same girl you spent time with in Barbados.

  Ella shifted in her seat and, with each singular movement, something woke up inside of her.

  “Do you have the file?” she asked, sitting forward and giving me her full attention.

  I shook my head. “I left it with Oliver.”

  Ella groaned, head bouncing back, once again, to the headrest. Her fingers came up, pinching the bridge of her nose as she fumed. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t just wing it if I haven’t got a clue what it is.”

  I fought the urge to berate her. To give her a little bit of hell for being so wrapped up in finding a dead man that she’d put us in a situation that, if not handled right, could get us the same big fat red check-marked box next to the words deceased on our own files.

  She jolted forward, snatched up her travel bag from under the seat, yanked out her wallet, and then jerked the air phone from the back of the seat in front of her. The black credit card slid inside the card reader as Ella put the phone to her ear.

  I sat back, arms crossed, wondering who the hell she planned to call. It wasn’t as if room service was available thousands of feet in the air. But I knew a man should sometimes watch before opening his mouth and demanding answers. The bottom of a situation could be gotten to a whole lot quicker when the other person had a chance to purge everything out so it could be pieced all together.

  “Oliver,” she snapped. A second later, “Why are you laughing, asshole. You knew I needed that file to look over the mission. Why the hell didn’t you send it with him?”

  Him? Oliver had asked for it back. I’d given it to him, thinking he was going to give it to Ella to go over. What was Oliver playing at?