Wyn Security

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Wyn Security Page 32

by Dana Volney


  “From Felix’s chat this morning,” Winter took a second to glare at him, “we know that our target intends to take Arabella away by boat. Amelia, since you are our underwater specialist, Alex was able to procure a specific team for you to secure whatever Darek brings with him in the water. They are coming up from San Diego.”

  Amelia turned to Mieko and winked. “Shut up,” Mieko laughed. Felix didn’t weigh in when the two discussed their dating lives—but there seemed to be a running joke about Navy SEALs.

  “This guy is a top target and takes priority. No fuck-ups.” Alex stood. “I have to get back. Winter knows the plan.”

  “We’ll meet up with the teams at three. Here’s the schematic of the entire market.”

  They talked over the plan through and through, working out contingency plans for different scenarios. Arabella piped in and was well received.

  He liked it. He liked the synergy and knowing that he would be beside Arabella when she confronted Darek. They just had to make it to the market, and they’d succeed. None of them knew failure. If Darek was planning a sneak attack before that, then the odds of them capturing him went down. Felix would still bet on this team every day of the week, though.

  In a couple of hours, this nightmare would be over, and he could go on with his life. Without Arabella. Because his dumb ass had told her he wanted a divorce.

  What a fucking liar he was.

  Chapter Ten

  Arabella wrestled urges she wasn’t used to fighting. She’d never had to monitor herself around Felix before. They’d always had a cat and mouse repertoire, but that was natural and led to adult behaviors she liked very much. She’d even admit the banter could be fun on occasion. The force that pulled them together was alive and well after last night when they’d both let down their guards. Now, sitting two feet away from him in the truck, she had to actively shut down those feelings—the first step in truly getting over him.

  Felix’s harsh assessment of their marriage had been correct. They’d never put one another before anything else. She’d always assumed because they were a perfect match in bed, they shared the same isolating job the world didn’t understand, and they were both born with a hard shell when it came to doing the tough tasks, that the relationship would be natural, too. She hadn’t considered the effort that goes into making a union work. She’d not taken a step back and considered how being away from each other affected their relationship or what would happen when they both went back to being civilians.

  So here she found herself, making love last night and saying farewell with a quickie this morning. The irony was they both were probably in the best place now to actually give their relationship a real go. Well, timing was everything in this world, and they sure were never good at it.

  “Turn here.” She pointed to the right.

  She’d insisted she could retrieve the laptop alone, but Felix would have just tailed her anyway so she’d relented. One of the main reasons she’d picked her hiding location was so she could enter the wrong building and cut over to the safety deposit box if she ever thought she was being tailed, while the person waited, none the wiser, watching from afar. She didn’t give two craps about Felix knowing where she was keeping the stolen laptop; it was the other item in the box she’d rather her husband didn’t see.

  “Park there. In the lot.” The corner parking was across from a bank, clothing store, and bakery in downtown Seattle.

  “I’ll be right back.” She unlatched her seat belt and reached for the door handle.

  “I don’t like you going alone.” The muscle in his jaw jumped. He didn’t look at her but instead kept a wary eye on the street.

  She touched her ear where she’d placed the comm earlier. “You can let me know if you see anything out here, and you’ll know immediately if I’m in trouble.”

  She shut the truck door behind her quickly so she wouldn’t hear more of his protests.

  “Flimsy reasoning if I’ve ever heard any, Nox.”

  Shit. She’d forgotten about the earbud already. Having Felix’s low growl in her ear was going to take some getting used to. And, dammit, he was going to hear everything at the bank anyway. But he wouldn’t see anything, and that was the important fact.

  Crossing the street, she entered the clothing store and headed straight for the back that accessed a newly built city park area complete with benches and a couple of trees. She cut right and went in through the doors that read Seattle Bank and Trust. She gently maneuvered the earbud out and into her cargo leg pocket—muffled sounds would be fine for him to hear.

  “How can I help you today?” a baby-faced young man in a suit asked her at the reception desk.

  “I need to get into my safety deposit box.”

  He nodded and made a call then pointed her back to an office beside a bank of desks.

  This was the second time in almost as many days she’d walked through those doors. The day before she’d showed up in Felix’s bed, she’d sat outside his apartment in a rental car, staring at his closed curtains while rain pitter-pattered on the metal roof. There was a lot she’d had to say, but she’d had no idea how to say it. He certainly hadn’t made any effort to seek her out. So she’d just sat there, full of angst, and debated, with her wedding ring in one hand and the encrypted laptop in the passenger seat. Truth or manipulation?

  After she’d watched his shadow for hours, she’d decided not to leave her life to chance. She headed straight to this bank, slid her wedding ring off her finger and into a safety deposit box, along with the laptop, and then checked in at the hotel. She stored her heart and her life in the best place, like a good operative – right under Felix’s nose. Where else was safer?

  Felix was dead set on officially ending their marriage, she’d agreed, and now her head was starting to recognize that letting go might not be such a bad idea. The sky was the limit after tonight. She could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted, and be anything she wanted. Just not Felix’s wife.

  • • •

  Felix glanced at the map on his phone again. Thank God Eddie had installed the GPS tracking software on his phone before they’d left the office. Arabella’s comm had gone silent, and not because no one was talking. Oh, she was not getting off the hook this time. His feet swung out of the truck door. And what kind of fool did she take him for? He stomped across the street as adrenaline flowed freely. Sonuvabitch. Nobody in intelligence was this stupid, not even rookies on their first day. How badly had Arabella lost her touch? He threw open the big glass doors. If Darek really had been tailing them, a bank’s security wasn’t going to stop him—especially if he realized his precious ledger was being stored there. Arabella’s swaying ponytail caught Felix’s attention as she came out of an office and followed a guy in a suit.

  Jogging, he caught up to them before the elevator doors closed.

  Arabella’s eyes widened before she regained her composure. “Felix.” The fortitude was clear in her voice.

  He quickly glanced at the bank employee as he boarded the elevator. “Nox.” He faced the doors, next to her, and clasped his hands in front. She was fine; his heart could settle down. This was her handy hiding place, and she’d taken her comm out so he couldn’t hear where she was going. He still didn’t know what the big fucking deal was; he knew what she was retrieving.

  “He’ll be joining us,” she said to the bank employee, who pressed the button, clearly unsure what just happened.

  The short man led them down a hallway and through a thick safe door into a room filled with different sizes of safety deposit boxes. He inserted his key into box number 831, and she did the same.

  “I’ll be right outside when you’re through, Mrs. Ibarra. Take your time.”

  Felix’s head snapped over to the man then to Arabella—who wasn’t looking at him. Mrs. Ibarra, huh? He’d never heard anyone but him and the guy who married them call her that. Fuck. His dick sure liked hearing her called by his last name. A smug smirk crossed his lips.

>   “Shut up,” she said with her back to him. “I couldn’t use any of my last names, now could I?”

  Technically Ibarra should be her last name—add that to the list of things he’d fucked up in their relationship. Suggesting no one find out about the marriage had been a boneheaded move. If team members and their bosses had known, he and Arabella could’ve been together in public more, placed on assignments together more often, and not lived as a couple in the shadows.

  The short-lived happiness of the moment expired, and he felt like shit. Exasperation at why she was being so coy about the bank tugged at his neck and continued up until it flowed out of his lips. “Why do you have to make everything hard?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” She pulled out her box and set it on the metal table in the middle of the room.

  He stood opposite her, widened his stance, and crossed his arms. Let’s fucking get this over with.

  She used her key to open the top lock and folded the metal top over then carefully unfolded a pouch that contained a laptop. “All here,” she said and set it on the table as she started to close the lid to the box. A shiny glint caught his eye.

  “Wait.” He stretched out a hand.

  “There’s nothing else in here.” She closed it, but he reached down and spun the twelve-by-fourteen box around to face him. Her hands flew across the table to take it back, but he moved it closer to him and out of her reach. He opened the lid, and his lips parted as he momentarily stopped breathing.

  Her wedding band.

  His entire internal self cringed.

  Her fucking wedding band was in a safety deposit box in Seattle. And why she’d wanted to keep him away. One tiny ring in a box spoke volumes—it mostly said, “it’s over.”

  The size seven silver band was shiny, and the diamonds reflected glimpses of light. Time stood still as he stayed there, frozen, feeling like he’d sucker-punched himself this time. He’d just had to look in her private hiding place. Jackass.

  He snapped his mouth closed and stole a glance her way, intending it to be quick. Instead, he locked eyes with her and couldn’t turn away. He knew his gaze conveyed his sadness and turmoil. And he’d expect to see the same staring back. He didn’t. She was being Nox, her hard shell on display in all its don’t-give-a-damn glory.

  She broke eye contact first. “It’s time to close this box out.” She snatched the ring from the metal container, opened a zipper pocket on her right leg, and let it fall in.

  As if it were no big deal.

  It was a very big fucking deal. The biggest deal of his life in fact. And he’d been so cavalier about them being a couple that she’d stashed it away instead of wearing it. What a colossal asshole he was.

  He swiped the pouch with the encrypted data tucked safely inside that she’d left on the table and then followed her to wait outside the office door while she signed the paperwork to close her account.

  The hope of starting over, fresh, tingled the back of his neck. When tonight was over and they were both alive, he was going to have a talk with her. He wanted a second shot at being her husband. He could do better—he could do justice to that ring, their marriage, her, and make the future what she deserved. What he longed for. He’d do so many things differently. She’d even said she wanted to settle down. With some begging she might consider Seattle.

  “Ready?” She emerged from the room, and he nodded. He was scared if he spoke it would be a high-pitched mess that would lead to crying. And a man of his stature crying in a bank would scare people.

  The silence stretched to awkwardness as they reached the parking lot. He started the truck, put it in drive, and then shoved the shifter back to park. The truck rocked at his jerky movements then settled in place. If they addressed the elephant in the room, then they could both get on with it. The evening’s events were too important for either of them to be even the slightest bit distracted.

  “When did you put your ring in the bank?” He spoke quietly and leaned back in his seat to face her.

  She didn’t move but tilted her head down, running her left hand over where he’d once put a ring on her finger.

  Please don’t come up with a story.

  “It doesn’t really matter when, does it? Just that I did.”

  He nodded. He didn’t blame her for not knocking on his door when she’d been in town, but his heart hurt anyway. And his gut—that fucker was in serious turmoil. “We are so fucked up.”

  Her head jerked up, and she stared at him, a sad grin starting on one side of her lips. “The really screwed up thing is I actually flew here to run into your arms and tell you what was going on . . . and then couldn’t. I think I knew then it was over.”

  Gut. Punch.

  She chuckled with no humor. “I’m not great at goodbyes.” Her words were barely audible.

  He’d been the one to say divorce, but she’d been thinking it for years—or whenever she’d taken off her wedding ring. The hope of a do-over that had started to kindle exploded right before his eyes. His chest felt hollow. At this rate, all Darek would have to do was put one finger on him and Felix would fall over—he’d been beaten up too much today already.

  Arabella, a beauty among beauties, someone who was his equal in a fight, someone he couldn’t run over or intimidate or get bored with, was sitting next to him telling him she’d accepted that they were done, and he had no words to convince her to stay. He’d already fucked up her life enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  Arabella flattened the bulletproof vest over her chest with her palms. It was not as thick as the standard-issue police department vests, but it would still be noticeable under her shirt, which was why she was going to wear a jacket to this little party.

  “I don’t think this is going to work.” She shook her head in Felix’s direction. He’d been the one insisting on the extra protection.

  She checked out his shirt—she could barely tell he had a vest on, although he was big, broad, and assuming already, so another couple of inches weren’t that noticeable on him.

  He stepped behind her, reached to her waist, and undid the Velcro. Her belly fluttered at his touch and the overall raw sexual energy that constantly buzzed around him. Or passed between them naturally. Or that she always felt with him because he was her husband.

  “There.” He shimmied the vest down toward her hips, apparently satisfied from his rear view.

  Since their afternoon fun at the bank, she hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes. It hurt too much. The guy calling her Mrs. Ibarra had made her cringe. Felix nosing his way into finding the ring had made her mad. Then the exchange in the truck had made it all worse. Or better. If you were Felix. This is what he wanted.

  The ring remained in her pocket. She had nowhere else to put it. And what would she do with it once the ink was dry on the divorce decree—sell it on eBay, bedazzle a shirt with the stones, melt it into a paperweight?

  They’d gone back to the Wyn Security office to run through the plans again and get loaded up. Five o’clock could not come fast enough. Anxiety riddled her limbs and started to get into her head. She’d been on a hundred missions, some by herself and some surrounded by a team. She’d lived through each one. She’d get through this one, too. And if she didn’t, she could certainly rest in peace knowing that Felix would make sure Darek and anyone else responsible died a very painful death.

  Unless, of course, Felix turned her over to Darek for real. In that case, not even angels with harps floating on fluffy clouds could keep her from tearing three layers of skin off Felix’s body with hot pinchers. The incident with Safar hadn’t been Felix’s fault. It had been easier to blame him though. Now she’d see once and for all where she stood with Felix.

  “You got your knives?” he asked, still behind her. She could practically feel his warm breath on her neck.

  Goose bumps prickled the back of her neck and shoulders. What if he hugged her tight and told her he was in love with her and wanted to live happily ever after? She
scoffed. Never going to happen. He might hug her, but then he’d tell her to aim for center mass.

  “I want to know what you’re fucking armed with.” His gruff tone was loud.

  She slowly turned to face him, eyebrows raised. What the hell was his problem?

  “You can balk at my questions all you want, but answer them.”

  Whoops, he’d thought she’d thrown him attitude about the knives. Well, making him mad was fine by her. She didn’t exactly need him in a good mood when they dealt with Darek anyway.

  “Two in each boot.” Her favorite set of knives hadn’t left her side since this whole thing started. Even when she was with Felix. A girl had to be able to protect herself.

  “Your gun?” he persisted.

  “I didn’t bring the Walther. I don’t want it getting taken away if he’s got bodyguards there to frisk us.” I love that gun.

  “Here.” Felix reached into a closet that had been made into an armory of sorts in Winter’s office and pulled out a small black Beretta like the one he carried. “Take this one.”

  “If I would have worn a skirt, I would’ve had a chance at keeping it.” She winked at him. “But you’re just basically throwing this piece away.”

  “Better safe than sorry.”

  She touched her ear again. They’d all put their comms back in, and she didn’t know if Eddie was already monitoring conversations. She didn’t even want to think of the possibility that Eddie had heard everything through Felix’s that afternoon.

  She gazed into his stern, light blue eyes and shimmied the gun under the vest and in between her breasts. “Happy?” She wiggled around a little to settle to new contents on her chest. It was a good thing he picked the smallest 9mm Beretta made.

  “Extremely.” His hot gaze smoked a hole right through her. Was he going to kiss her or yell at her? She couldn’t tell. “You keep touching your ear.”

  “It feels weird.” She wiggled her nose in a poor attempt to move the comm around in her ear.

 

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