by Pamela Clare
He was too surprised by that to answer, afraid to move or speak lest it stopped her from talking and ruined everything.
She drew an unsteady breath, tilted her head a little. “So I’m saying that…even though I’m scared and I know it’ll be hard and I’ll come in last a lot of the time, you’re worth it. I love you and maybe I don’t deserve it, but I want another chance. If you’re willing,” she finished in a rush, looking so vulnerable and uncertain it made his chest ache.
Gage could hardly take it all in. Jesus Christ. He shook his head, flooded by a relief so staggering he blinked against the sudden sting of tears. If he was willing? Did she have no clue what she meant to him? She was the beating heart in his chest.
He stood up so fast the stool shot back two feet behind him, then he was moving toward her without even realizing it. Two steps across the tile floor, Claire flew straight into his arms. Gage caught her to him and hugged her fiercely, squeezing his eyes shut against the painful swelling in his heart as she returned the tight embrace. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, none of this had even been a possibility. He was humbled by the way she’d laid herself bare to him with her honesty.
“I love you too. Never stopped,” he managed roughly, part of him wondering if he was imagining all this. She’d been absolutely unyielding in her decision when she’d cut him out of her life all those months ago. Nothing he’d said or done had made a damned bit of difference, but the tragedy of Danny’s death had made her willing to fight for them. This was his dream come true, a thousand times better than anything he’d ever imagined.
His face was buried in her hair. He breathed in the tangy, crisp scent of her and held her in a bruising grip, half afraid she’d vanish if he let her go. What she’d said was stuck in his mind. He rocked her ever so slightly, trying to convey his depth of feeling for her with his desperate hold. “I understand why you’re afraid, I do, but you don’t come last with me, I—”
His phone rang in his hip pocket. He silently cursed it and thought about ignoring it but his gut warned him it might have something to do with what Zahra had uncovered the other day. The development he hadn’t told Claire about yet that the rest of the team had been briefed about in a discreet meeting in the funeral home parking lot after Danny’s service yesterday. He’d wanted to shield her from it as long as possible but he couldn’t hide it any longer.
“Fuck. I don’t wanna answer that, but I have to,” he said against the top of her head, her hair silky smooth against his face.
“It’s okay. Go ahead,” she murmured, stepping back to wipe at her eyes.
No, it wasn’t okay. And the instant he found out what whoever was on the other end wanted, they were finishing this conversation. Reluctantly, he eased his grip and let his arms slide from around her, immediately missing the feel of her against his body.
Pulling the phone out, he saw Hunt’s number on display and answered. “Hey.”
“Hey. How you guys holding up today?”
“We’re great.” A thousand times better than what he’d imagined them being five minutes ago, considering everything she’d been through over the past few days. “What’s up?”
“We got word on the suspect in Baltimore. We know who he is, and half the law enforcement agencies in the region are out looking for him right now. The latest transmission from his contact in Tajikistan said there’s a Tuesday night deadline for him to kill the target.”
Gage cursed under his breath, his eyes snapping over to Claire. She was back at the island, watching him. She was completely still as she stared at him, her mug poised halfway to her mouth, the alarm in her eyes telling him she knew it was bad news.
“Bring her here until we know more about the situation,” Hunt continued. “The more eyes we have on her until this is cleared up, the better.”
Fuck yeah, after seeing what the TTP had pulled off in their attempts to get Khalia, Gage wasn’t taking any chances with Claire’s safety. “Roger that. See you in a little while.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and faced Claire, frustrated that they’d been interrupted in the middle of patching things back together, but hating the reason behind it more. The thought of Claire being in imminent danger made him crazy with the need to protect her.
Her face was pale. “What?” she asked, clearly alarmed.
“I need you to pack a bag with enough stuff to last you a week,” he said calmly. There was no way for him to soften the news, not without lying to her. Running a hand over his skull trim, he decided it was kindest to say it straight out. “Looks like the TTP’s hired assassin’s deadline just got moved up, so for the time being I’m moving you in with the rest of the team for added protection.”
Chapter Ten
Four hours later Claire pushed her laptop away from her on the kitchen table in the safe house where the Titanium team was staying and leaned back into her chair to rub at her eyes. After such a great start and a promising breakthrough with Gage, the day had suddenly turned to shit and wasn’t nearly over yet.
Not only had the threat level gone up substantially in the past few hours, she and Gage had been too busy working with the rest of the team to even begin an attempt at ironing out the remaining issues that had split them in the first place. Her parents both wanted her to meet them at Danny’s place to go through his things before her mother left town but with this new threat Claire couldn’t come and go as she pleased. And she didn’t dare tell her parents what was going on.
Her father knew something was up though, she could tell from the things he’d asked her over the phone. But as long as she was with Gage and the others, she felt safe.
Unable to fight it, she let loose with a jaw-cracking yawn.
Beside her, Zahra cracked a grin. “Wow. Did Gage keep you awake all night again?” she teased, gaze fixed on her own screen.
“I’ll never tell,” Claire answered, though she knew her own smile was answer enough. She stretched her arms over her head and sagged back in her chair with an exhausted sigh. The finality of Danny’s death had begun to sink in, making it hard to concentrate. Grabbing some sleep was an impossible dream at this point, though she doubted anyone would mind if she crashed in one of the upstairs bedrooms for a while.
It was only the two of them in here and no one else was within earshot because the guys were out in the living room gathered around the coffee table to talk logistics. When she’d arrived here with Gage, Hunter had surprised her with the news that he’d hired a cleanup crew to go over to Danny’s place and take care of everything so her parents wouldn’t have to deal with any of that while they went through Danny’s things. She was so appreciative of his thoughtfulness. The entire team’s, actually.
Everyone had been kind to her, especially Zahra, who’d been trying to keep things light with her considering the intel they’d just unearthed. People thought the linguist was aloof and cold, but Claire knew better. It was all a front, designed to keep everyone at a safe distance. If you earned your way into her trust, you saw a completely different side of her.
“Wish Alex would call and give us something else to do,” Claire muttered. She and Zahra had spent the past few hours sifting through more intel while they all waited for word from Alex after he finished an important meeting with several other directors, members of the FBI, CIA and Homeland Security. Alex wanted their team ready to move and staying in the safe house afforded them the best position for now.
“I hear you,” Zahra answered, typing away on her keyboard.
Everyone in the intelligence community wanted to find this Mostaffa guy and bring him in before he could strike. Officials already had a team of FBI agents hunting for him here in Baltimore but his neighbors said he hadn’t been home in a few days and nobody knew where he’d gone. Apparently he was the freaking superintendent of his building, and everyone was shocked that he’d done anything bad that would involve him in an investigation. Claire wrapped her arms around herself, still shaken at the thought of being evacuated fr
om her home because she was on a terrorist’s hit list.
Driven by morbid curiosity, she clicked on the file on her desktop to bring up his picture, though his face was already permanently etched into her memory. A Caucasian man in his mid twenties, clean shaven with dark brown hair and greenish eyes. Mostaffa was good looking, which for some reason was even more disturbing to her.
According to the background info on him, his parents had emigrated from Tajikistan before he’d been born. His father had worked as a plumber and the mother had stayed at home to raise Mostaffa. A few police reports over the years hinted at domestic disputes that had gotten out of hand, but that had stopped once the father died almost a decade ago. Mostaffa—Mo, as his friends called him—had gone to trade school and worked various jobs in construction, plumbing, gas fitting, and most worrisome, as a technician for ADT Security Systems.
Claire stared at the image on screen, trying to make sense of it all. Though born and raised in the States, somewhere along the way Mostaffa had become radicalized. He had no criminal history or anything else that might point to why he’d joined the Taliban cause. He wasn’t even on any of the government watch lists. Likely why the TTP had chosen him.
“Hey, why don’t you shut that down and we’ll take a break for a while,” Zahra said, shutting down her own laptop. “I can’t stand looking at that guy anymore and you need some down time.”
“Yeah, good call.” She powered down the laptop. The scariest thing about this guy was that he looked so ordinary. Nothing about him stood out and he’d left no suspicious trail online that they could find, no doubt why he’d gone completely unnoticed in the counterterrorism world until the past few days. Made her wonder just how many others there were like him out there, sleepers waiting to be activated by cells both here and abroad. Knowing they existed was one thing; dealing with them firsthand—being named their possible target was quite another.
“You hungry?” Claire asked her, needing a distraction from her thoughts.
“I could eat.” Zahra eyed the fridge dubiously. “Think they’ve got anything decent here?”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Claire got up to rummage through it. At first all she saw was beer, and plenty of it. She shook her head. As far as she knew the only guy in the house who could cook was Gage, and he was busy in the front room with Hunter, Ellis and Dunphy.
Considering the details of the recent threat, they were all way too paranoid to order something for delivery. That left either cooking or someone making a run to a takeout place, and Claire didn’t mind fixing something for everyone if she could find some actual food to work with. It would give her something else to think about besides Danny and the TTP for a little while.
After pulling some chicken and veggies out of the bottom drawer in the fridge, she got busy chopping while Zahra hunted for something to flavor it with.
“All we’ve got is ketchup and vinegar,” Zahra said sadly, placing the bottles on the counter next to the stove.
“They’re such guys,” Claire muttered. “Just find me some salt and pepper and we’ll make do with that.” She did a quick stir fry and tossed in some cooked pasta to fill everyone up. Zahra helped her plate everything and they took it to the guys. The men looked up at them as they entered. Gage’s intense blue gaze raked over her in a lazy, appreciative sweep, a warm smile lighting his eyes. Her skin tingled in reaction as though he’d physically touched her.
“It’s not fancy, but it’s better than nothing,” she told them, placing plates in front of him and Hunter.
Dunphy—Sean—half turned in his seat to smile at Zahra as she approached. “Hey, thanks.”
Zahra plunked his plate down with an irritated frown and didn’t look at him. “Whatever, I didn’t make it, Claire did. And don’t get used to this. Just because I’m a brown girl doesn’t mean I like running around serving you guys food.”
“Okay, I take back my thanks. How about a plain old fuck you instead?” He picked up his fork and scooped a bite into his mouth, smiling at her as he chewed.
Surprisingly, Zahra laughed. “Just so we’re clear,” she added, smirking.
“We’re clear. I promise to never expect any more hand delivered meals from you.”
“Good.” Aiming a grin at Claire, she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and sauntered back into the kitchen.
“Well, on that pleasant note,” Claire said dryly, “I’m gonna go eat with her since she seems to prefer my company to yours.”
“Thanks,” Gage and Hunter said in unison, already shoveling food into their mouths.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled at Gage and fought back a pang of longing, wondering when they’d get the chance to continue their discussion. Maybe later tonight after everyone turned in for the night. Once she and Gage were lying in a sweaty, tangled mess in their bed. The man was addictive and sexual chemistry aside, she appreciated having him with her through all of this.
Seating herself at the kitchen table, she raised an eyebrow at Zahra, who studiously ignored her as she forked up a bite of her lunch and shoved it in her mouth. Claire cleared her throat for emphasis.
Zahra’s eyes darted up to hers, expression all innocent. “What?” she demanded around a mouthful of noodles.
“Exactly,” Claire countered. “You got something going on with Dunphy that I don’t know about?”
She snorted and forked up some veggies. “He wishes.”
Okay then. Claire hid a smile, enjoying the opportunity to rib Zahra and glad to be talking about something so normal for once. “Just checking, because I seem to recall you saying something about swearing off men for cats for the next six months. Of course this just means I like you even more.”
Zahra paused and gave her that cool look Claire had no trouble seeing through now. “What are you talking about?”
Claire knew her co-worker wasn’t used to dealing with military types, except for Alex. “I love a woman with a backbone, and trust me, you’ll need it to deal with these Titanium guys. That type of alpha male, they have a way of wearing you down after a while. You gotta stay strong.” She said it tongue-in-cheek, having just seen the spark between Zahra and Dunphy for herself.
“Oh, don’t worry, my spine has no problem telling them where to go and what they can do with themselves once they get there.”
Grinning, Claire stabbed a piece of red pepper with her fork. “Glad to hear that.” Sounded like she was going to keep Dunphy on his toes while they worked together, that was for sure.
They were rinsing off their plates in the sink when the man in question strolled into the kitchen carrying a stack of his own. “See, I brought the dishes in here myself, rather than expecting you to come back and get them,” he said to Zahra, black eyes dancing with mischief. “Check me out, all domesticated twenty-first century guy and shit.”
“Great, you can do ours as well then,” she replied sweetly, stepping aside. She passed Claire on the way back to the table, a smug grin on her face. With a grudging chuckle, Dunphy got busy rinsing the plates then loaded them into the dishwasher while Claire watched in approval.
“I really like her style,” she said to him, trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, she’s got a certain something, doesn’t she?” he murmured, watching Zahra start her laptop back up as he closed the dishwasher door. He opened his mouth to say something else, no doubt another smart ass remark, when someone’s cell phone started ringing in the front room. Dunphy’s was next. Then another. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, Zahra’s went off too.
“Is he calling us in?” Claire asked, assuming it must be Alex. Her own phone was in her purse, over by the front door. Nestled beside the Beretta from her nightstand that Gage had insisted she carry with her from now on. She might not have any law enforcement training or field experience, but a woman wouldn’t grow up in a house with two commandos and not know how to fire a weapon properly. Though it’d been a while since she’d gone to the range, she was pretty sure she
could still hit whatever she aimed at.
“Looks like,” Dunphy answered, reading whatever text message had come through.
Footsteps sounded on the tile floor, then Gage stepped into the kitchen. Though someone else might not have noticed the subtle tension in him, with one look at his face Claire knew something was wrong.
“Alex just called us all in for a meeting. Wants us in the boardroom ASAP,” he said.
Her heart thudded at the grim set to his eyes and mouth. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
Bullshit. He knew something. He and Hunter both. Did it have to do with her? Had they just found out something about the attack? Zahra was already gathering up her stuff. “Gage, tell me what—”
“Let’s go, Claire. Grab your stuff and get in the truck.” He turned and walked out without another word. Swearing to herself, she snagged her laptop, hurried to the front door to get her purse, and pulled out her cell phone. She found nothing but the text from Alex, telling them to come in. But she was sure she hadn’t misread that look on Gage’s face. Had he received a different message than the rest of them? Otherwise Hunter must have said something to him.
Stewing in silence, her trepidation growing by the second, she walked out the front door behind Zahra and climbed into the back of the idling SUV Gage was driving. Whatever was going on, she’d find out soon enough.
