by Beth Rhodes
“I rounded a corner. I swear. I feel fine.”
“Good.”
At the crackle of plastic packaging, Marie turned and found Malcolm with an Oreo in his hand. “Who brought those?” she asked, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. No one would look at her. Malcolm did, however, and emphatically popped another cookie into his mouth and said, “Mmmm.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Someone knew what he liked and had brought him his favorite snack as if he was a spoiled youngest child.
“Hello in the house!” Agent Graham was back. This time, she didn’t even stress. As a matter of fact, she felt peaceful, and when he entered the kitchen, she even turned and smiled.
“Oh good. Everyone is here.” He handed a square box over to her, and she took it with a shaking hand. Maybe not so peaceful. “For you.”
The armband. The curse. Uncle Bert. She swallowed. Malcolm. She shook her head.
And then she passed it off to Malcolm. “Thanks,” she said. “How long until I can go in?”
“How does this afternoon sound?”
Excitement raced through her, for the job, for the retribution, for the redemption. And finding Uncle Bert—alive. She knew it in her blood, her bones. He was alive. He had to be, and she was going to get him back.
“No fucking way.” Malcolm’s voice came from the other side of the room, startling Marie.
She turned, heart in her throat. “This is my job, Malcolm.”
“We know more than we did last week—fuck, yesterday.” Next to him, Stacy placed a hand on his arm, as if to comfort him—or calm him the hell down. “This isn’t merely a stupid security check. It’s the very darkest, dirtiest, ugliest side of human fucking trafficking.”
“I can go in, though, and bring him down,” Marie said. “With our cover, I can be the one.”
“You weren’t more than an educated thief a year ago. You aren’t trained for this kind of work.” His unbending opinion sent sparks through her brain as anger burst to life.
“Stacy—anyone, can I handle myself in hand-to-hand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Craig replied.
She glared at Malcolm. “Emily. How am I doing on the shooting range?”
“You’re shit on the long distance, but with a pistol, you’re one of the best.” Emily paused. “For what it’s worth, if he loves you, there’s no argument for going in that will satisfy him.”
The kitchen went completely silent, and Malcolm’s face paled.
“I’m the perfect in,” Marie whispered, ignoring Emily and the look of realization and fear on Malcolm’s face. Looking up to the ceiling, blinking away tears that sprang to her eyes at the thought of him wanting to protect her, she blew out a breath. “I’ll be safe enough, Malcolm. I’ll be careful. There’s only one thing for me to do: get in there and find the women. The FBI is ready to go. You’ll be right around the corner in that van of yours, listening to every word.” She moved forward, and he tensed when she stood in front of him and put her hands on his waist. “You said so yourself. He isn’t going to let anyone else in right now.”
Turmoil clouded her favorite eyes and furrowed his brow. The others might as well have disappeared.
“I can handle Dimitru,” she reminded him.
Malcolm’s arms were held tightly against his chest. He was protecting himself even as he argued. “He’ll make you pay. He knows who you are, a Bălan. For him, it’s personal. We can send Emily in.”
“How? Dimitru is letting people go.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Mine,” she fired back. “Okay? It’s mine. I screwed up. And now I’m going to make up for it, and I’m going to help us take him down, once and for all, Malcolm.”
Jamie shifted uncomfortably on the seat off to her right while Bobby had leaned forward and was actually grinning.
Emily watched them. “Boy, am I glad I didn’t say no to this assignment.”
Malcolm shifted his gaze away from Marie, and he saw everyone staring at him. He scowled and then turned away from her and threw his hands up. “Fine, but I don’t like it. I’m not on board with you going back to this asshole. I saw how he looked at you—”
“Don’t,” she said. “Please. This is my chance to be the person you need me to be.”
His scowl deepened, he made a funny growling noise, and then he walked out the back door.
She stood frozen. What had she done? Fucking tears. She blinked hard.
Hawk stepped forward then. “I’ll talk to him.”
“He needs to be sidelined, Hawkins,” Graham said. “We already had one screw-up, as unintentional as it was, and we can’t afford Dimitru to go underground or disappear because you’ve got a hothead on the team.”
Hawk nodded and followed Malcolm out the back door.
Marie’s knees finally gave, and she sat in the chair behind her.
Stacy came up and rubbed her back. “You okay? You don’t have to do this, Marie. No matter what you think, Hawk and I will not force you to do this.”
But she shook her head. “I have to get in there. I have to see. I have to find my uncle. I’m going in whether Malcolm approves or not.” A cynical laugh escaped her. “Approves? What the hell?” She didn’t need anyone’s approval. Except she sure was doing a lot to get his.
Stacy crouched. “It’s the stupid wonderful that happens when a man starts falling for a woman.”
“Truth,” Emily said from across the room. “Happens when you love him back, too.”
Marie’s stomach clenched again. She wouldn’t believe it until he came right out and said something to her. Too many reasons for him to walk away.
The door opened behind her.
She stood up, quickly recomposing herself. Malcolm came in the room and walked by without a look. And her heart fell.
“Okay,” Hawk said, coming in after Malcolm. “Let’s run through the details and then break for lunch. Marie, gear up, talk to Malcolm if you need to, but you’ll be on your way to Dimitru inside the hour.”
***
If she didn’t care about her life or his opinion, he wasn’t going to care.
And if he kept repeating the lie, maybe it would come true.
In the basement, Malcolm opened the back of her watch, used his mini forceps, and carefully placed the tracking device on the panel. He used a small dab of adhesive, a combo of epoxy and silicon, blew it dry, and then replaced it on the watch. Next to the watch, the gold armband she’d handed off to him sat, glowing in the dim light of the single bulb above his head. He picked up the little soldering tool and used it against the soft gold under the head of the serpent. He embedded another of his tracking devices into the piece. With no apology and no regret.
He blew on the armband and dunked it into the cold-water bath.
Turning it over, he rubbed the slightly altered surface, then picked up the watch as well and lifted it to his ear to hear the familiar tick of the seconds hand. The piece was Marie. They both were. She was a unique blend of old and new. The old-school Roman numerals of the watch, the black hands, and the pewter frame with the black leather band exhibited her fancy.
He set the watch and armband aside and reached for the leather belt with the looping chain. One more for good measure. Who knew what Dimitru would do when she came through his door? He might take all her personal items.
What he really needed was a tracking device he could put on her person.
She was going to be dead meat in Dimitru’s hands. And he cared too much.
He worked faster. Time was running out.
At the buckle end, he used a razor to split the leather. The small receiver sat against the back of the split. With the adhesive, he laid a wire down the center of the leather until it barely crossed the end to the snaps, where the frame would hold the big, turquoise-laden buckle.
Because of the adhesive, which was also laced with lead, the listening device would be undetectable by any scanner Dimitru used, if he suspected,
if he was paranoid. Malcolm knew the man was.
If Malcolm included his own security measures, the video feed throughout the house, which after their security check yesterday he could now access, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t know about what was going on behind those closed doors.
Dimitru could shoot her dead on the spot.
His hand shook as he inserted the buckle frame and snapped it into place.
He opened his bag. In the very bottom was a black box. He set it on the table and opened it. Inside was a collection of tracking devices, all part of an elaborate jewelry theme. He had earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. He pulled a large diamond earring from the box for the earring she had at the top of her ear.
“Hey, what are you doing down here?”
He glanced back at Marie. She was dressed to show off her Romanian heritage. Her eyes were particularly smoky and dark. Mysterious. She wore one of her peasant shirts again, the one revealing a little too much of her skin.
He turned and leaned against the workbench and waved her over.
Fear made him harsh with her. Emily was right.
Marie took two steps, placing one foot on either side of his crossed legs, and then leaned against him. “Please don’t be mad,” she said, resting her head against his chest.
Fuck. He wasn’t ready for this.
“You’re swearing in your head,” Marie said.
He chuckled, cupped her face, and tilted it up so he could kiss her. God, her lips were so soft, so his. She was tiny, but she was his warrior. He’d seen her in action, and he shouldn’t be so opposed to her doing her job.
She rose on her toes to him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry.”
“Is it true, Malcolm?”
He frowned. “What?”
“What Emily said,” she answered.
“What if it is? Will it make you stay here?”
She flinched and shook her head. “No.”
“It’s true.”
“Okay.” She was studying him.
He brushed her hair back. “Doesn’t scare you, does it?”
“No. Makes me nervous, though.”
“I love you, Marie. I don’t know why it happened.”
“Well, gee—”
He stopped her words with his mouth and then deepened the embrace, seducing her to open to his caress. She gave back, delving in with all her unspoken emotions, until they were both breathing hard and holding even harder. He reluctantly broke from the kiss. “You were the last person…and now are the only person. Shouldn’t it be that way?”
“Yes,” she said, easing his heart and his mind.
He set her back and turned to the workbench. He picked up the earring and turned back to her. He held the stud between his teeth and turned her face so he could remove her earring.
“What—”
“Shh,” he said, and placed his earring in the top of her ear. “It’s a listening device. A bug.”
He picked up the armband, and she immediately backed up. “No.”
When he looked into her eyes, he saw an unrecognizable fear, something he’d never seen before. “This is your in. The police didn’t find it. They brought you in for questioning, but in the end had to let you go. You hid it so you could return to Dimitru and make bank. He’s supposed to be convinced you want your uncle back, but also want more…you want Lot 26. You want the mother lode.”
“It’s cursed,” she whispered.
“It’s a piece of metal some guy dug out of the ground hundreds of years ago.”
She reached for it and touched the head of the snake with the tip of her finger. “My mother wore it. She wouldn’t say one way or another if it held power.”
Malcolm let her talk it out.
“The mystery intrigued me. As a girl, I found it…romantic. To find your soul mate and be bound to them by the circle of the armband? A blessing for prosperity and years of happiness.” She slipped it on without thinking, stopped as if suddenly realizing what she was doing, and then moved it up, all the way past her elbow.
He swore it shimmered, like the first time he’d seen it against her skin.
“It’s ridiculous, is what it is,” she said. “A whole bunch of malarkey.”
But she’d been wearing it the night of the accident, the night her parents died. Malarkey or not, he’d rather she be safe. He knew that her guard would be up and she wouldn’t take anything for granted. He needed her to be sharp in there—armband or no armband. No magic was going to save her if Dimitru thought for a second she wasn’t legit.
“What if—” she started.
“No what-ifs tonight. You’re going to have to be remarkably convincing.” His hand tightened on her waist, as he shoved the thought of her at Dimitru’s mercy out of his head, and he frowned when the dark thoughts didn’t shake off so easily. He took her belt and circled her waist.
“Another bug?”
He smiled. “Tracking device. Sends out a signal.”
“So, no communication through it?”
“No, for keeping tabs on your location or, worst-case scenario, looking for—” He stopped and shrugged. Bodies.
“That’s not going to happen.” When her fingers finally found purchase in his hair, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “You okay?” she asked.
“This plan is supposed to happen fast. But you and I both know the plan can change in an instant. Use your senses.”
“Common or otherwise?” she said, nudging him.
He chuckled, even though he didn’t want to. “At the first sign of trouble, don’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there.”
Her arms came around him and she got comfortable there. “You’re a lot like my uncle.”
“Am not,” he replied, offended. “I wish you wouldn’t have done it, Marie.” He cradled her, touched her face to turn her gaze and instigate direct eye contact. He wanted her to see his eyes, so she knew: he meant robbing Dimitru. He meant volunteering to do this dangerous mission. He meant…
What did he mean? He meant…stealing his heart. “I don’t know what I’ll do—”
She broke off his words by planting her mouth on his. His eyes closed on the feeling of completeness and complete out-of-control-ness. Fuck.
Being left penniless and a fool ten years ago by his two-faced wife was nothing compared to losing his heart to Marie.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“As soon as Marie is on her way, we’re moving the base of operations back into Portland, where we can coordinate with the NIS and the FBI,” Hawk said. “What Agent Graham could bring forth before he was taken out of Dimitru’s confidence shows a very small window between tonight and Saturday, when the women will make landfall and be in the States. Marie is there as both distraction and mole.”
Malcolm was nowhere around. After she’d found him in the basement, he’d gone off to make himself busy. So far she’d seen him fixing windows and the front porch. And then he’d disappeared.
Marie checked her watch. T-minus fourteen minutes. Fourteen! Would he let her leave without seeing her? He struggled with her going in, but she hadn’t considered he’d refuse to see her.
She touched the empty spot on her arm where she’d had the armband. She wouldn’t bring it with her. No matter what he said, no matter what she believed, she couldn’t. Call it bad luck or a damn curse. If she was going to use it as leverage, she didn’t want it with her.
The little hidey-hole under the house was going to have to be good enough. Dimitru would want it, and she would give it to him…when she saw Uncle Bert was okay.
“Ready?” Stacy stood next to her, and Marie looked around, noting the room had emptied.
She sighed. “Yes. Into the den I go.”
Stacy put an arm around her shoulders. “You’re good at what you do, Marie. Hawk wouldn’t have hired you otherwise. Besides, we’ve got your back. And when this is over—”
“Twenty to life?”
The boss lady laughed. “N
o.” She paused before continuing. “We all have moments of weakness, Marie. Lines we’ll cross for our loved ones. No one on this team blames you for what you did.” She gave Marie a pointed look. “You should have come to us.”
The reprimand sounded so very familiar. The delivery from Stacy—compared to Malcolm—was harder to take. Sympathy made the regret cut deep, whereas Malcolm had pissed her off by being Judgy McJudgment-Pants. “I was ready to cut loose from the team.”
“Well, there’s your problem. Cutting loose from Hawk Elite is impossible. Once a team member, always a team member, even if you decide to move on. You’ll always be ours. And we look after what’s ours. Don’t forget. Ever.”
Tears sprang to her eyes again, and Marie swallowed hard, blinking to stop the flow.
“We’ll see you through this glitch with the police.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re part of this family. We’ll get you the best lawyer. And no matter how far Dimitru or the state takes these charges, you’ll have our support.”
Her heart about stopped. “Really?”
“Really,” Hawk said behind her.
Marie turned, feeling more like a kid than she had in a long, long time. And like a stupid kid, she threw herself into Hawk’s arms. He patted her back and ran a hand over her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said, backing up and wiping her face. It was too much. The flood of relief pounded through her head. She squeezed her eyes shut with her fingers and took a deep breath. “At least I’ll look the part now—road-worn, weary, teary, and puffy-eyed.”
Hawk’s smile was one she’d seen a thousand times in the last year as he interacted with his kids. The warmth of knowing he thought of her as his own… “I’m proud of you, Marie. You fight for what’s yours. And even in your mistake, you’ve taken the shots standing up. You don’t hide behind excuses or lies. You’re strong.”
She wiped the stray tear. “Thank you,” she whispered, and then quickly hugged Stacy. “I better go. Tell Malcolm—” She didn’t know what. Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you here? I’m sorry? “Tell him I’ll see him later.”
