CHAPTER 32
Nick woke up in Lower Manhattan against a trash can on the corner of Hudson and King streets, which was clearly what Sokolov considered the next best thing to sticking a shiv in Nick’s gut. It was a clever message to accompany his parting words: “Tell Rothgar you’re quitting to come to me, get your things, and leave. I only wish I could come with you for this.”
He felt cold and alone, and it didn’t help that from the place where he was slumped on the ground, when he looked up at the sky, the lights in the skyscrapers reminded him of stars. I want to be at home with Jane.
Blood dripped down the corner of his mouth where Sokolov had taken a molar; his hands were sticky with it. Shaking a little as he got out his cell phone, he punched the autodial for Roth. “SOS, Roth,” he said softly. “I’m a little rough. Need a pickup.” So much for “dignity.” I do not think that word means what you think it means, Sokolov.
Rothgar told him Shane was on the streets already and would detour. So, Nick waited for his brother. Who he really wanted was Jane.
Shane got him into the car and drove him back to the Armory, where Missy took a look at his mouth, gave him plenty of sympathy, and told him she’d arrange to have him get a fake tooth back there if he wanted before smothering him with first aid.
Afterward he told Rothgar and the guys in the war room what went down—leaving out pretty much all the details about exactly how he and Jane had had the best fuck of his life just prior—and provided substantially more detail about being dragged out of bed and taken to Sokolov’s by Tristan.
Tristan’s lack of loyalty to his presumably ex-mercenary team, the Sixth Ward, did not sit well with the boys. “Brooklyn hipster,” Chase barked, as if that explained everything. It was a funny thing; though Rothgar and the Sixth Ward’s leader, O’Neill, were competitors, they respected each other, and sometimes when there was nowhere else to turn, they traded markers. O’Neill was a big reason why Cecily was still in one piece today.
The minute Nick explained that Sokolov (a) knew that the Hudson Kings were involved in the sleeper-agent missions and (b) knew that they’d been behind outing Sokolov’s girlfriend, Anya, Rothgar stood up and walked over to the mission boards. Without a word, he added SOKOLOV.
Nick was no longer on his own with this, and he clearly didn’t have a choice in the matter. It didn’t bother him one bit. He rubbed his sore jaw, thinking he should have done this a lot sooner. But that was hindsight—and also before Sokolov had shown an interest in Jane.
Missy and Dex had their heads together; they headed for Dex’s computer, Missy tossing over her shoulder, “We’re going to check something on Sokolov.”
Rothgar nodded and turned back to the rest of the guys. “First thing we do is neutralize Jane,” he said.
Nick did not like the sound of that. It must have shown on his face.
“You get her out of your house, you don’t see her until this is resolved, you don’t make her more of a target than she already is,” the boss clarified.
Nick liked the sound of that even less. “Well, yeah, I really need to talk to her, explain to her that my not being there this morning was because of Sokolov, you know. Make sure she knows that I care . . .” He trailed off as every guy in the room was looking at him like he was insane.
“What are you talking about, brother?” Chase said. “If she thinks you ditched her after sex, you’ve already solved the problem. Don’t bring her back from the dead only to die.”
“You want me to not explain myself?” Nick said, his lip curling in disgust.
Rothgar looked like it was taking some work to stay patient. “Jane MacGregor didn’t bat an eyelash when she acted as an operative on your behalf at the consulate,” he said. “From what I understand, she did it as a favor to you. Do you really think a woman like that is going to walk away if you ‘explain’ yourself? I think she’s going to run straight at you and ask how she can help, which is going to keep Sokolov’s nice big target on her back. Consider that a compliment from me and a warning.”
Chase snorted. “Nick wants to tell her the truth. Oh, he is so gone over her.”
“Let me make myself clear,” Rothgar continued. “I’m not saying that all things being equal I’d tell you to lie to get her to stay away, but I am saying that she already thinks you’re an asshole and has told herself not to see you again. The smarter move is to keep her thinking exactly that for a little while longer, just to fix the problem while she’s clear of you—and this situation—and then tell her the truth. She’s already where you need her to be.”
Hating me. Nick thought about his crazy, sexy, awesome night with Jane and tried to imagine how it would feel for her to wake up in that bed in the morning totally alone. “Is there something particular you’d like me to say?” he asked tightly, shaking his head in total disgust.
“I don’t care,” Rothgar said brutally. “That you don’t love her, that it was a fling and now it’s over.” He tipped his head. “The other option is that we bring her here. But it might tip your hand, telegraph even louder how much you care. Not sure that’s a win, tying her closer to us in the middle of all this, especially now that Sokolov knows we were behind nailing Anya as a spy. I’d say cut ties, get her away from you. We’ll put surveillance on her at Ally’s.”
“This is a very screwed-up conversation, if I can add my two cents,” Flynn said. “I don’t like the idea of Jane thinking Nick’s a total asshole. She might not come around after.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting broody, baby?”
“Jesus. Fuck,” Flynn said. “I’m just looking out for Nick. He’s the happiest he’s ever been when he’s thinking about that woman. He smiles. He laughs. And by the way, have you ever noticed that you do not deal well with emotions?”
Chase held up his palms in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is not about me.”
“True enough,” Nick muttered, thinking about Jane.
Rothgar gave the boys a cold look. “If we were talking about Jane being dead, courtesy of Sokolov’s bullet, I think even Nick can agree that would be a very fucked-up conversation. I’d like to not have that conversation. Flynn, if you’ve got a better idea, air it now.”
The squabbling instantaneously silenced. Flynn shook his head, telegraphing sympathy to Nick.
Shane looked square at him. “If Jane’s not going to stay at your place, she’s gonna go back to Ally’s couch to figure out what to do, like she did before she took your gig. Cecily and I are planning to take over Ally’s lease. We were going to wait until things were a little slower for both of us, but I could get away with moving in now, even with Ally still there. To tell you the truth, it’s probably going to take me crowding Ally’s personal space to get her to look for another apartment. So I’ll watch over Jane while the rest of you neutralize Sokolov’s threats. Neither Jane nor Ally has to know why I’m really there, and you know Cecily doesn’t spill Hudson Kings secrets.”
Nick shook his head. “I should be the one looking out for her.”
“When I was wondering about bringing Cecily into a mission, you told me I was crazy,” Shane said. “You said that if you had a woman that you cared about, no way in hell would you even seat her across from you in a restaurant during a mission. This is your restaurant moment. Now it’s real: are you bringing Jane to the table?”
Nick felt himself grow cold. He remembered that conversation, and somehow, he’d forgotten the basics. Because Jane was . . . Jane. Game. Unflappable. His partner. He adored Jane’s enthusiasm, her willingness to roll up her sleeves, her ability to take everything in stride and not bat an eyelash. He could tell her the truth, and she could handle it, but both Rothgar and Shane were more to the point. He didn’t want her to handle anything this hot. If something happened to Jane because of him . . .
Jemilla Johnson told him to wait for his star. He’d waited more than ten years for Jane, and he wasn’t going to risk losing her like he’d lost Ms. Johnson. If she had to hate him for as long as it took the Hudson Kings to sort things out, he could live with that. The alternative was unacceptable.
“I’ll leave Jane to stew,” he heard himself say, silently praying that the philosophy of “act now, apologize later” would resonate with her somehow.
And once it was settled that Nick would be calling Jane to give her a more explicit kiss-off and not to explain why he’d left her to wake up naked, alone, and covered in last night’s sexcapades, Rothgar led them through an analysis of every possible solution there was for putting Sokolov out of commission, including cold-blooded murder and a deal with O’Neill’s Sixth Ward team.
It was a complicated mix. There was the issue of helping Sokolov save face now that he’d gone this far to teach Nick a lesson. There was the issue of the still-missing $20 million and who had it. And there was—
“We hit the jackpot,” Missy’s voice announced from the other side of the room. She and Dex were looking over, triumph plastered across their faces.
“We didn’t just get contact info from those three phones at the consulate party,” Dex said. “They used productivity apps to attach e-mails and plans to their to-do lists, and so now we’ve got notes and plans too. I’m happy to report that Vlad Sokolov is totally vulnerable to blackmail. He either got pissed when he found out Anya got caught in our last sleeper-agent mission and increased his participation, or it’s a coincidence that he’s independently ramped up his existing association with the Russian spy network. Because he is funding and training spies on a bigger scale now than before. No question.”
“We’ve got ourselves a legitimate reason to go after this guy,” Missy said.
“Then there’s only one question before we proceed,” Rothgar’s steady voice said. “Does Nick want to blackmail Sokolov to solve his problem before I use Sokolov to solve ours?”