This should be easy. Dylan Donovan glared at Senator Anita Justice's oak wood door. All he had to do was walk in, collect on his IOU, and he'd be out. But he'd learned from experience nothing ever went that smoothly with the senator.

That woman was always working her own agenda. It was because of her that he'd ended up in DC instead of New York. How he'd ended up working on her task force instead of the BAU. And how he'd ended up alone, instead of with a fiancée and the kid he loved as if she was his. When the senator had pulled strings last year to have him reassigned, he hadn't had any say in the matter.

And his fiancée, Symone, had pulled the plug on their relationship. "You have no idea what long distance will do to the relationship. Not to mention what it would do to Carmen."

Carmen was Symone's daughter from a previous relationship, but Dylan loved the little girl like mad. During the two-year relationship with Symone he'd been a surrogate father to her. But since he'd been assigned in DC, Symone hadn't allowed visitation. Telling him she thought it was bad for Carmen to still be so attached to him. Especially if he wasn’t going to be part of Carmen’s life.

He resented that. When he’d met Symone, she was a little older and her life was settled. On a certain path. She was refined. Elegant, driven. And then he’d met her daughter and fallen in love. In so many ways Carmen was a little adult. But spending time with her reminded him of when he’d been growing up. Symone had that kid too confined with rigid schedules and nannies and regimens.

For him to say that, that was saying something. They’d managed to chat a few times on the phone, but mostly they exchanged emails. It killed him every time she asked why she couldn't see him. I'm fixing it now, kiddo. If he was back in New York, he could get his life back.

Senator Justice was the key to getting his life back, so he'd had to make nice. This woman could get him back to NYC.

The senator's scheduler gave him a bright smile. "She'll see you now."

“Agent Donovan, it's good to see you. How are you?"

Dylan Donovan met the gaze of the formidable senator. Anita Justice was known as a pit bull. Half the men on the Hill were terrified of her. "Fine, ma'am." He gave the standard answer. "I see you're well?"

Rotating her shoulder, she replied. "You're kind to ask about an old lady. I have full range of motion back. It only hurts now when I play tennis."

She'd been shot in the incident last year, but she recovered quickly—barely missing a beat. Unlike him, where on the surface, everything was fine, but his emotions were the equivalent of a Jackson Pollock painting.

"I'm busy and you need a favor," she said. Leave it to her to cut to the chase. "I understand you have requested a transfer from the task force to the New York division of the anti-terrorism BAU."

Dylan cleared his throat. He wasn't easily intimidated, but he recognized he needed this woman. The same woman who'd forced him to come to DC. Sure she'd framed it as a good career move. But it didn't change the fact that she'd pulled strings to yank him from New York. Senator Anita Justice wasn't used to hearing no. "Yes. While I've enjoyed my time on your task force, the BAU is the direction I'd like for my career. The analysis and pathology appeals to me."

Anita Justice nodded thoughtfully. "I see that. Catch the bad guys before they act out their plans for destruction."

"I'm happy to consult, but it's a better fit." If she wanted she could keep him in DC indefinitely. But she knew she owed him. Though, to people like her, that didn't seem to matter.

The task force she created was a joint effort from all the federal law enforcement agencies to target domestic terrorists fixated on wreaking havoc and destruction on the government. The senator had been targeted by one of those groups during her lobby for stricter gun control.

"I understand."

The silence hung between them. She knew she owed him, but she was going to make him ask. Hell. "Your recommendation would go a long way."

"Obviously, I have known for some time that you wanted the BAU. We discussed this last year. Back to New York? Why not DC?"

That was the only way to right this train. "My life was there before I came to DC." Before he'd taken a life to save hers and lost his sanity. She owed him.

The senator sighed and fiddled with a folder on her desk. "I have to tell you, the timing isn't great. As you know I'm putting in a bid for president."

Dylan's heart pounded against his ribs, and he leaned forward in his seat. "I'd heard it was a possibility. Congratulations, Senator." After the shooting she'd strongly suggested he join her task force. He'd made it clear that he wanted the BAU and she'd pulled every string she could to have him pulled to DC. He resented what she'd done, but when a US senator took interest in your career, you did as you were told…to a point.

"I need someone like you, Agent Donovan."

"All due respect, ma'am, I'm an FBI Agent. It's all I've ever wanted to be. It's time to get back to my life. Either way, I'm going back to New York." He hated to burn the bridge, but he'd set Semtex to it if it meant getting his life back.

The senator studied him with a direct stare. He knew from experience she wasn't used to hearing no. Finally she sighed. "I understand. You have no political aspirations at all, do you, agent?"

"Not at all. I like my life a little more black and white." He replied shaking his head.

"Well, Agent Donovan, the world unfortunately is never that clear. Some of us have to live in shades of gray." She sighed and tapped the folder in front of her. "I owe you my life. I know it, you know it. And I want people on my team who want to be there there. I'll give you what you want. Hell, I'll call the director personally, but I'm going to need you to do something for me first."

Dylan clenched his jaw. "If it's all the same, Senator, I'd rather get back to my life."

She surprised him with a smile. "And that's why I like you, Agent Donovan. No bull. You can see a lure from a mile. I give you my word. I'm not fucking with you. This is important and has nothing to do with my politics."

Somehow he doubted that, but he said, "What do you need?"

Nodding, she knew she had him at least sniffing the bait. "You know of my family tragedy?"

Everyone in political circles knew. In the early days of her career, she'd been targeted by an anti-government militia group because of her policies on gun control. Their leader, Tommy Cochran, targeted her blaming her gun-control laws for impacting their business. They were so far on the fringe and radicalized that they advocated martial law. They were a small group no one worried about until their youngest brother, Roy Cochran, had been busted for trafficking on the border.

The oldest brother, Tommy, then kidnapped the senator's children. He'd assumed she could make a trade for his brother. Senator Justice’s son did not survive. In the resulting melee, Cochran escaped and had been at large for eight years. They'd caught him in Canada four months ago and extradited him.

"Yes, I'm aware of the history."

She nodded and pulled a file from the stack on her desk. "I've been getting letters for months, years even from that bunch of crackpots. But they are low-level threats. Two weeks ago, I got photos."

Dylan took the folder and opened it. Inside were photos of a pretty young girl. Maybe college-aged. She had the same smooth, cinnamon skin as the senator. The same dark eyes. But the similarities ended there. In one photo she smiled broadly at a young Indian woman. Heat suffused his skin and he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"A few days ago, my people intercepted a letter meant for her."

"You have a team watching her?"

Her smile was quick. "Nothing that extreme. I have someone on my payroll who scans any mail that goes to her workplace. It helps me ascertain any threats before they get to her."

The world of politics was something he would never understand. "I don't understand what you need from me."

The senator sighed. "My daughter and I are…estranged…for lack of a better word. After her brother's death, she fell in with a bad crowd. Acted out. When she went away to college, she distanced herself. She changed her name, refused protection. She wants nothing to do with me."

It wasn’t like he could blame the girl. Her brother had died in her arms. "Let me guess, you're thrilled about that?"

"Well, with my bid for presidency, I know that she'll become a target. I helped cover her trail as much as I could. But it's not like I could make her disappear. Someone will find out who she is as soon as my bid goes in."

"So get her some protection."

She grinned. "Glad to see we're on the same page."

Dylan shook his head. "Don't you have Capitol Police for that?"

"Yes, of course. But, I was looking for someone I could trust implicitly. And as you have saved my life before, you fit the bill. The letter I intercepted threatened her life if I chose to run for president. It's from the Cochrans. The anniversary of my son's death is in six weeks. Poetically, it coincides with my announcement."

A shadow of dread wound it's way around his spine. "Let me guess. You want me to keep her out of trouble and cover her in case the Cochrans make good on their threat?"

"Pretty and smart. Aren't you a catch, Agent Donovan."

He smirked. "Just one problem. I have a full case load, and I'm an FBI agent, not a professional babysitter."

"Hear me out. There is another component. Serafina is delicate. She crumbled after her brother died. If she finds out there is a real danger, I'm afraid of what will happen to her psyche. Sera became defiant and a little wild after Malcolm died. I need someone who can be discreet. I think you're that person."

"I'm sorry. But no." He wasn't getting involved in their family bullshit. He had his own family shit to deal with.

"I need her safe. Once I announce, we’ll have the Secret Service. But until then, I don't like not knowing that she's out in the wind. Given her past, she might also attempt to derail my bid. I can't get anyone close enough to really monitor the situation. I know what you've already done for me, but I need your help. You do this and you can go back to New York with my glowing recommendation. You write your own ticket." She sat back and crossed her legs. “I know the situation with your ex. Her daughter, Carmen—you’re quite fond of her, yes?”

“What does Carmen had to do with this?”

“That art conservatory for gifted young artists she’s been dying to get into. She’s been declined twice. I can get her in.”

He swallowed hard. There it was. That opportunity would make Carmen’s whole year. His goal within grasp. It was too tempting to say yes without thinking of the ramifications. The memory of that night a year ago flashed in his mind. When he had saved the senator's life, he'd taken the lives of two others. One of those deaths was the reason he still couldn't sleep at night. You were doing your job. Doing his job or not, he still beat himself up about that night, knowing that if he had things to do differently, he'd still do them the same. "What is it you need?"

"Six weeks in San Diego. I know it derails your current case load, but I can make the calls to give you access to still work."

Studying the photos again, closely, something told him this assignment wouldn't be quite that simple. But he was getting back to his life no matter what it took.

He tried to ignore the warmth coursing through his body as he focused on Sera Justice's smile. She's not a dating prospect. "What will my reception be?"

For the first time, the senator didn't meet his gaze. "Hostile. I don’t want her told about the threats to her life. I won't lie, it looks good to have her by my side, but I'm more concerned about her emotional well-being given her history."

Shit. How bad off had the girl been if her mother was unwilling to tell her the truth—that her life might be in danger? Wisely Dylan kept silent. That was Washington, after all, and the senator would not be the first politician to use personal tragedy for votes. Not your biz.

"Family dynamics aside, you want me to stick to her like glue but you don't want to tell her the truth. That makes my job a little difficult."

"I know. And I'm sorry. But when you're done, the BAU is yours and Carmen gets a dream come true. I want my daughter safe and by my side in six weeks. I don't care how you do it, but let’s downplay the FBI angle. It’ll be easier if she thinks you’re a political fixer or something. She'll resist at first, but I'm working on her compliance. What do you say?"

Dylan met the senator's gaze. This was the same woman who had forced him onto her task force. Trusting her wasn't high on his things to do. He was a good agent. And he'd had high-profile cases. The BAU was in the cards eventually. But he wanted his life back sooner rather than later. And that meant going through the senator. He'd get in and get out unscathed, then he'd be back to his life. Easy. It would be over in no time. "I have an event in New York tonight. But I'll get on a flight to the West Coast after that."

* * *

Dylan smiled as his sisters Mia and Delilah stood to make their thank you toasts. The whole family and a hoard of guests he couldn't name or place had bunched into his family's backyard. As happy as he was for his sisters, after Symone, he wasn't sure he saw it for himself. She'd broken his heart when she made the decision to keep him out of Carmen's life. He hadn't taken the job because he'd wanted it. He'd been assigned. His whole world had been dismantled in a matter of days. But now you can have it back. Just babysit this girl and you're back in New York. He'd see Carmen. Work on things with Symone. He could have it back.

Two of his sisters had found love in the last year and a half. Hell, even his brother, Derek, was getting in on the game. It was like they were all being picked off by one hell of a love sniper.

"Your sisters are getting married; why do you look pissed off? I thought you liked Ryan and Nate?"

The smile was automatic at the sound of his sister Jezzie's voice. Immediately he offered up, "Little sisters' boyfriends are the crabgrass in the lawn of life."

She laughed but scrutinized him. "Okay, Charles Shultz, not quite how the quote goes. But go on. Tell me what's up. I know that look on your face."

"I don't think anyone is good enough for them. But I know they'll be happy."

"So what gives with the someone replaced my scotch with hooch expression."

He smirked. "Just work stuff. Enough about me. How's work?"

Jezzie rolled her eyes. "The world of modeling is so scintillating."

Dylan laughed. "It is for me. How come you never bring any friends home?"

"Because my brothers will hit on them." She shook her head. "You guys are predictable. You don't bring impala meat to a lion party."

Dylan snorted. "I'm a good boy, I am."

He and Jezzie sat in companionable silence for several minutes. It was their routine. Jezzie always took a while to work up to what she wanted to say. She wasn't as direct as Delilah or as comfortable in her skin as Mia.

She took a sip of her champagne then studied him closely. "So are you going to tell me what happened today?"

He sighed, not wanting to go into the meeting with the senator. But Jezzie had the kind of dark eyes that made it far too easy to spill secrets. After Dylan told her everything, she sat back. "You thinking Symone will let you see her?"

"I don't know. But I have to keep trying.."

"It's a tough call. Symone was never right for you. You're too contained when you're with her. What is it that Dad always says? 'Love is fucking messy, not orderly and perfunctory.'" She shrugged. "Carmen is a pawn and it sucks."

Dylan liked orderly.

Their mother strutted by looking stunning in a red cocktail dress with her afro curls bouncing around her shoulders. Patting them on their shoulders as she passed she said, "Language!" without a pause to her stride.

Dylan couldn't help it. The laugh bubbled out before he could stop it. "I swear she has ears like a satellite dish."

Jezzie shook her head. "That’s Mom. It's terrifying. Makes me wonder if she doesn't work for the NSA or something."

Dylan grinned. "I wouldn't put it past her."

His sister pegged him with a direct stare. "You're like me. I know you struggle when a little chaos gets tossed into your life. You've been fighting to come back to New York because you think if you can get your life back the nightmares will stop. But you have to wake up because soon you'll realize you treated a symptom and not the disease. The past will still haunt you."

He loved his sister, but what the hell did she know? "I'm fine, Jez."

She took another quiet sip, then dropped the subject. "Dad said you were off to Cali tonight. Off to see Derek?"

"No. Case."

His sister was quiet for a long moment. "Well maybe some time away will help you see things clearly."

It was already clear to him; he was about to get what he wanted. What he needed. And claim his old life back.

An hour later when he'd escaped the crowd into the living room, his father followed suit. "Hey, Dad. You escaping the noise too?"

"No, D2. I wanted to talk to you about something. I know you head out tonight, so I wanted to give it to you before you headed out."

His father handed over an envelope.

"What is this?"

"It's a letter from your mother."

Sweat popped on this brow and suddenly it was hard to get in enough air. "What?"

John Donovan shook his head. "I didn't open it. So you'll have to do that part."

As his dad left him in the kitchen the sounds of the party raged all around him.

Dylan was used to filtering out his emotions. He could do the hard thing without emotions seeping into his decision processes. But this. This he wasn't ready for.

Dylan - I hope this letter finds you well. I know I don't have a right to intrude into

your life, so I sent the letter to your childhood home so that you might open it

surrounded by family. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I caused you pain and you were

undeserving of it. Know that I was in pain as well. I have heard of your

accomplishments from your father. I couldn't be prouder. Just know that

somewhere out in the world is someone who loves you.

-Mom