Her body pressed up against his, so close she could feel her shaking.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, squeezing her, trying to subdue the trembles. They were standing alone in the stairwell. He’d walked into a very strange scene. Macy looked even stranger.

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding frazzled.

He was expecting her to be surprised to see him. But not this surprised.

“I was waiting for you,” she said. “And someone came up and—”

His gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where?”

“Just out front. I think they’re still there.”

Tucker moved her aside and took a few steps to the door before feeling her hand on his arm.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned to see her, Macy’s face still contorted with adrenaline.

“It’s a trap,” she said. “Has to be.”

“If it’s a trap, then I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Let’s just see who it is. But first, take a breath. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine.” Macy took a step forward and Tucker had to beat her to the door. He held it open and peered, his hand at his holster, expecting to be face to face with another hit squad.

But it was just some woman leaning against a car, chatting with the driver. She turned her head when Tucker stepped out. And then she was shaking her head, saying something to the driver and chuckling a little.

“Can I help you?” Tucker said, crossing into the road.

“We’re here for Macy Chandler. I’m assuming you’re Macy?” she said, laughing again.

“Who sent you?”

“I’m not going to divulge that.” And then she turned to face the driver.

Tucker faced Macy and said, “I don’t know. We can’t just always assume someone’s trying to kill us. Can we?”

“Are you serious?” she said, her eyes squinting tight. “After this morning? And after everything you’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours?”

Tucker looked at her, studying the lines of frustration on her face, trying to figure out what to say. He just smiled instead and said, “Come on, we’re late.”

“I’m not leaving with her.”

“With me,” he said. “I’ve got all of our stuff. Are you ready?”

“You’re going with her?”

He reached for her elbow, pulling her forward, getting her feet moving, “Of course not. I have my own car out back. We’re late.”

He could see it on her face, the difficulty she had trusting him in this. But she moved anyway. It was sad. In fact it crushed him, to think about how often she would go through this. How many times her mind would imprison her with memories, with the fears of next time. He couldn’t blame her for not trusting this woman. But he wondered, in the future, under normal circumstances, how often it would happen.

Tucker gave her one last look and said, “It’s okay. Trust me.”

* * *

He didn’t like it.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to fish around in a coworkers’ data. But Macy wasn’t just a coworker, someone who would happily oblige to having her personal belongings searched. It made him sick to think about what he’d promised to do next. At least, it was a step better coming from him than one of the other guys on the team. Maybe.

So here it was, the first example of why he should always keep things professional. The first drawback to the messy situation he’d found himself in with Macy. He felt awful. The only thing he could do was not get caught.

So he just had to be quick about it.

Get it done and over with, clear her name, and then move on. And certainly, never speak of it again.

Tucker tried to rewire his brain, at least for a minute, to see Macy as just another coworker. Sitting next to him in the passenger seat, he tried looking at her as just another agent of DARC Ops, someone who would be neither surprised nor offended at having their background checked—and double checked.

And she was new. That was just the process. Tucker himself had gone through similar checks. This was a test for him, too, he was sure of it. Testing what he’d do to protect the mission. The most difficult test yet. He could only hope it was the last.

He kept peering across to her lap out of the corner of his eye, not to enjoy the sight of her jeaned thighs, but to watch how she handled her phone. To wonder what she was doing with it, who she was contacting, what she was communicating. He wondered how in the hell any scenario could occur where she’d betray him and DARC Ops, but he came up with blanks.

He had no reason to suspect her, and neither did Jasper. Unless his brain had actually been a little damaged and now producing some sort of paranoid delusions. Could Tucker contact Jackson about that without causing too much inner-drama?

The drama from that would probably pale in comparison to Macy ever learning about her phone being hacked and monitored. Tucker, driving them toward their last stop before the mission began, had to quickly weigh the risks, to compare the damage of a personal versus professional drama.

Then again, he could avoid both if he just checked her phone real quick and was undetected.

He looked back down to the device, the only thing that stood between him and their happiness—and Jasper’s peace of mind. She was still using it, propping the phone on her lap. Her leg suddenly slung over and crossed tight across her other leg. She shifted her body in the seat, squirming almost.

“What’s wrong?” Tucker said. “Need a bathroom break?”

“How could you tell?”

Tucker chuckled, opting not to explain his analysis of the international signal of needing to pee.

“Can we please stop?” she said, finally releasing the frenetic energy that she’d been holding back. It seemed like Tucker’s question had only made things more urgent.

“Sure,” Tucker said. “But can I use your phone?”

“What?” She sounded almost wounded, like he’d stabbed her with the question. And when he turned to look at her, the pain was in her eyes, too. A sinking, smoldering suspicion.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“Why?”

Tucker focused on the road, driving like usual. “It’s okay if it’s not.”

“I really have to pee,” she said. “Can you please pull over?”

Tucker found a gas station two blocks down, not asking her again for the phone until the car was in park. He had it idling in a parking space, him turning to her again and asking, “Just for a phone call? My phone died.”

She slapped her phone down on top of the dash with a brisk, “Here,” and then popped open the door and hustled across the parking lot toward the gas station. It happened so fast, and in the flurry of her movement, he’d almost forgotten why he’d even wanted the phone in the first place. He was suddenly faced with a much more enjoyable task, watching her speed-walking away toward the building.

And then he remembered he’d have to keep an eye on her, for much different reasons.

Hurry the hell up.

He pulled a cord from his pocket, something special that Tansy had rigged up. He connected one end of it to his tablet, looking around one last time for Macy, and then connected the other end into her phone, hating himself even as he followed the simple steps to gain access to her cell.

But it was happening anyway, even as the worries ricocheted through his brain like bullet fragments. Even though he knew it was wrong, he had collected her data for the good of the team. For DARC Ops, for the appeasement of Jasper and Jackson and whatever other arbitrary reasons.

Despite all that, he knew he should never have even entertained the idea.

While every bit of data on her phone continued to siphon into his tablet, Tucker looked around him in the parking lot. Another perimeter check. He’d almost lost track of the two cars pulling in and emptying out with men marching into the gas station. They wore the same green fatigues as he’d seen earlier.

A coincidence.

Right?

He looked back at the data transfer, the process nearly half complete.

And then he looked back outside at the increasingly worrying coincidence.

He had taken a risk in stealing her data. And now he was taking another in not stepping out of the car to investigate these strange men, to make sure Macy was safe. He looked back down at the phone. 76% complete.