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The Transporter by Maverick, Liz (16)

CHAPTER 16

With Dex less than receptive to clearing the air about Cecily, Shane went back to his room in the officer’s quarters. He still hadn’t unpacked. Just left his stuff in the middle of the floor. He didn’t own much, and the place was Spartan, at best. Some of the other guys had put in the time to make their rooms a home; some of them had even combined more than one room to make a sweet pad.

Cecily would be good at that. She’d probably take one look at this place and roll up her sleeves, and the next thing he knew the tin ceiling would be polished, the walls cheerfully painted, that stuffed rabbit she’d been carrying around in her purse would be hogging the blanket, and art would suddenly color the walls.

Shane paused a moment, weighing his thoughts, waiting to feel annoyed by this imaginary impertinence of hers, waiting to feel violated. But in that moment, all he could think was that he was used to Cecily’s presence next to him in the car, and the right side of his body suddenly had too much fucking space.

Knock-knock. “Shane, you in there?”

Shane opened the door, and Missy barreled in, phone in hand, index finger ready to take notes.

“Your phone’s off again,” Missy said. “How the hell do you do business with the phone off?”

“Not taking any jobs right now,” he said. “And I’m in walking radius of anybody else who needs me.”

“I don’t get it. Most people can’t pull themselves away from the phone. Most people sit at their boring old office jobs and think of things they don’t need to do with their phone and do them just so they can sit and poke at their damn phone. You, you go around doing the most dangerous things you can think of and don’t even wonder if your phone’s on for backup. Anyway, I think it’s brilliant you’re finally home. Hope you stay for longer this time.” She swiped a fingertip across the empty top of the bureau and grimaced. “Oh, jeez.” Then she turned and looked around. “Do you want stuff for the fridge?”

“Bottled water would be great.”

“Snacks?”

“A box of those energy bars.”

“I know the ones. Booze?”

“A bottle of red,” he said without thinking.

Missy raised an eyebrow, waiting for . . . clarification? She wasn’t going to get any. “A bottle of red wine,” she repeated, fingertip hovering. “What kind?”

It doesn’t matter. Right? It doesn’t matter, Shane. “Um, merlot or . . . whatever,” he heard himself say.

“Merlot.” She stared at him. A small smile played on her lips. She was dying, dying to ask more questions. Because he did not do merlot. But Shane’d known Missy since the inception of the Hudson Kings, and if she knew anything was sacred to him, she knew it was his privacy. “And your usual?” she finally continued.

“I’m trying to cut back.”

She waited. “I’ll bring a small,” she finally said. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Missy scratched the tip of her nose, studying his face.

Nothing’s off about me. I’m nothing if not consistent. I’m exactly the same as always. Nothing has changed.

“I guess you’re always a little weird coming off a long road trip. Especially when you’ve had bodies in the car,” she said. “So what’s up with you and Dex? He was shooting daggers at you at the meeting.”

Shane wasn’t exactly saved from answering by the sudden pounding on his door.

Dex apparently didn’t give a shit about Shane’s legendary privacy. He’d hobbled over on his bad knee, fire in his brains, looking like if he’d brought a weapon with him he’d have used it. Shane’s door opened so hard it slammed against the wall inside the room.

“Holy . . . ,” said Missy, moving away from the inevitable crossfire, but in true Missy style, not actually leaving.

In lieu of bullets, Dex fired words. “I asked you because I trusted you.”

“And?”

“You took a job on the way. And Cecily was there. What the fuck happened to ‘Point A to Point B’? Are you fucking insane? Do you have any idea how stupid that was? What if it went wrong? That’s my sister!”

Holy fuck. He’s pissed about the job? “Is she here? Is she safe?” Shane asked.

“That’s not the point. You were supposed to rescue her from that piece of shit, not set her up with a criminal record or a sheet in our enemy’s database! What if someone was watching you?” Dex said, getting up in Shane’s face.

“If you have a problem with someone watching me, you probably shouldn’t ask me to drag your sister into frame. Not to mention, she was there because she put herself there. Or maybe, I should say, she was there because you put her there. She was with James in the first place because he figured out you were part of the Hudson Kings team and thought he could get to you through her.”

They both knew what he was suggesting: Dex was a weak link. Dex put his sister in danger. A look of pure guilt passed across Dex’s features . . . before it switched to pure anger. “Fuck you, Shane.”

“You’re welcome, Dex. Are we done, or did you want to share a pot of tea and some scones in the kitchen?”

Fuck you, Shane.”

Shane stared at Dex, debating his next move, oddly territorial about Cecily. “Missy, get out. Now.”

Missy walked out the door and closed it behind her.

“Your hands shake, Dex,” Shane said.

“What?”

“I said, ‘Your hands shake.’”

Dex stared at him, then looked around wildly, trying to figure out the connection, and finally looked down at his trembling fingers. He didn’t get it. “My sister mentioned that she had fun with you. I’m still trying to figure out how that word applies to you. You get that she’s on the rebound, right? She’s in a space where she’ll do things she’d never otherwise do, right?”

Shane did not like the implication of that. And he had to wonder what exactly Cecily had told her brother about what they’d done on the road, if she didn’t tell him about her sex life.

Dex flared up again—“You’ve been a good friend to me”—and then broke off like he suddenly wasn’t sure about the ending to that thought.

“Yeah, thought we were good enough friends not to just drop it all at the first challenge,” Shane said, surprised at the amount of hurt he was actually feeling. See, all this shit, this was why he did better staying blank.

“We’re talking about Cecily,” Dex stressed.

“This convo is over,” Shane said, officially shutting down. “You are not yourself. Haven’t been in months.”

Dex shook his head in disgust and turned to the door.

“I don’t think you’re listening,” Shane called. “If you’re smart, you’ll get someone to check your code.”

“What the hell, man! This is not about me. Nice deflection.”

“Your other option is to detox.”

Dex’s face went white. “If you so much as touch my sister, I will take you down.”

“Tell her not to make it so easy,” Shane shot back. Fuck! Not okay, man. What are you doing?

But he didn’t make it right, and a long, long, long silence was the only response his rude accusation earned.

“Wow,” Dex finally said, looking stunned.

Shane braced for the inevitable punch. He’d let Dex have it. Wouldn’t lift a finger in defense. But Dex was still staring at him, and the shock and hurt on his face stung worse than his fist ever would.

“What did you do?” Dex asked, too quiet, too grim.

“Cecily’s an adult. Why don’t you talk to your sister, see if she’s got any concerns?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Just as quiet, just as grim, Shane said, “I didn’t do anything to her. Far’s I can tell, I’ve only been doing things for her. Since the day I picked her up.” You gotta apologize for that earlier crack, Shane. Out of line.

The two men stared at each other, Dex clearly trying to decide his move, Shane still a little surprised he hadn’t already made one—with his fists.

Footsteps and voices down the hall got louder. Beyond relieved at the interruption, Shane opened the door to Nick and Chase passing by.

“Break’s over,” Chase said.

The tension in the room was not lost on anybody. Chase and Nick looked around and then looked at each other.

“Guys,” Nick urged. “We got a job to do.”

Shane and Dex followed him out, neither one speaking; Shane fell in with Chase while Nick fell back with Dex.

“Not going to ask if you’re fine,” Chase said.

“Good call,” Shane said curtly as they passed into the meeting space, already occupied by Rothgar and the rest of the Kings.

Cecily was sitting at a desk in front of a bank of computers with Rothgar, like it was the most normal thing in the world to be hanging out in the war room of an armory full of confidential material talking to the leader of a mercenary team.

“What the hell is she doing here?” both Shane and Dex asked in unison. They gave each other annoyed looks and then both of them stared at her. Dex hovered over his sister; Shane took a seat.

I am not fine. Not at all.

It didn’t escape Shane that it didn’t escape Rothgar that something was messing with Shane’s mind—and that the something was probably Cecily—but he did his best to focus on the plan at hand.

“Missy put together the blueprint for the first part of our mission,” Rothgar said. “We believe we can gather enough evidence to prove that one very beautiful model named Anya Gorchakov is operating in New York City as a Russian sleeper agent. We also believe we can bolster that evidence—and evidence that James is at least one middleman at the hub of the entire cell—by getting audio and video of them together. We’ve got an opportunity to do just that tomorrow night, so we’re going to take it and then move back to the details of Anya over the next two weeks.”

Shane’s gaze moved back to Cecily. She didn’t seem freaked out. She seemed . . . interested.

Missy stood up and flipped a piece of paper over the top of her clipboard. “We believe that James Peterson likes to meet with the agents in his care at a restaurant called Madison 57. He’s a regular at a corner table near the pianist and an extremely healthy ficus plant.”

A snort of laughter sounded from somewhere in the chairs behind Shane.

Missy looked up with a grin. “I’m just sayin’ we’ve got sound and sight obstruction.”

Flynn gave a salute, touching his hand to the permanent damage on his face with a teasing expression. “Appreciate the heads-up. I’ll wire things up with that in mind.”

“Yep. There’s a great balcony table that will give a clear aerial view but has a rail you can hide behind. Which reminds me . . .” She looked back at Rothgar. “What are we doing about Romeo?”

Shane looked around. Sure enough, Romeo was missing. Normally, he’d be the natural choice for hanging out in a fancy restaurant pretending to be on a date or whatever.

“He’s sick,” Nick explained. “It’s been going on and on.”

Rothgar raised his chin in their direction. “Right. So, Nick, we need you here in the room with Dex and access to a computer in case one of them pays with a card of some kind. Follow the money, yeah?”

“Nothing better,” Nick said, rubbing his thumb and index fingers together.

“So, of Shane and I, who’s the floater and who gets to have the fancy meal?” asked Chase.

Rothgar opened his mouth to answer.

“I get to have the fancy meal!” Cecily blurted.

Shane sat up in his chair, saw Dex drop his forehead to his hand, and suddenly everybody was talking, hooting, laughing, or hollering.

“Yo!” Roth barked.

Cecily barreled headfirst into the silence saying, “I deserve the chance to help bring him down. More than anybody.”

“You’re a little light on experience,” Dex said through his teeth.

Cecily flushed. “I know what I’m getting into.” She glanced over at Shane. He winced as her look was caught and catalogued by every person in the room. Missy managed to suppress a smile, but nobody tried to hide his amusement. Well, except for Dex. He wasn’t even close to being amused. “A couple is just another couple. A hot guy eating alone is noticeable,” Cecily added.

“She talking about you or me?” Chase said with a shit-eating grin, nudging Shane’s shoulder. “I’m the hot guy, right?”

Dex was protesting, using every argument in the book: She wasn’t experienced. James might see her, and they’d be outed. She was putting herself in a potentially vulnerable position any time she went near James.

For some odd reason, Shane felt . . . pride. Pride and more. It was a definite turn-on, a definite turn-on, confirming that this slip of a woman who looked so vulnerable was so damn game. He shifted his gaze to Rothgar, wondering how long she’d been trying to convince him and, most of all, which aspect it was that had won the big man over. Because Rothgar was the furthest thing from a pushover. And no way could she convince him to run a mission in anything but the way he 100 percent wanted to run it.

“I’m putting Shane in with Cecily on this one,” Rothgar actually said. For some crazy reason, Shane’s pulse sped up. “They have a familiar working relationship . . .”

You could say that.

The guys in the room were whispering to one another. Rothgar put up a hand and the room quieted. “I know what you’re thinking—especially you, Dex. But Cecily, here, made some pretty reasonable arguments.” Rothgar paused and looked down at his feet, a sign that he was trying to be delicate, something that didn’t happen very often. Then he added, “Cecily had a point about being a wronged party in all of this. Not just her time with this man. The fact is, if she didn’t have ties to the Hudson Kings, she wouldn’t have been targeted. She’s asked to be part of righting this wrong.” Rothgar looked over at Dex. “I’ll accept a veto from Dex, though.”

“Dex, I—” Cecily began.

Rothgar silenced her with a look. “There’s one more thing Dex needs to factor in. I’ve asked Cecily not to shut the door on James.”

“What the fuck!” Dex said.

Shane said exactly the same thing in his head.

“She’s been getting phone and e-mail messages since she left him. None of it suggests he thinks she knows who he really is. All that James knows is that he hit your sister, and she left him to join her brother in New York. He doesn’t know that he’s been made as a Russian spy and a fake piece of shit who sold Cecily a bill o’ goods.”

Shane watched Cecily struggle with shame. He hated feeling powerless. He wanted to cross the room, go to her, make it okay. But she wasn’t his. She was Dex’s.

“He doesn’t know the Hudson Kings are all over his ass,” Rothgar continued. “For all he knows, she’s just a girl who left a bad relationship and went home to a brother he’s probably seen in pictures but never met. If Cecily leaves the door open a crack, makes James think he might be able to fix things, we have a far easier road keeping tabs on him, what he knows, and what he’s going to try.”

“What exactly are you asking her to do?” Dex asked.

Rothgar shrugged. “Change her language from ‘never’ to ‘need space and time.’ Have her answer an e-mail or two. Have her sound unsure of herself. Keep the possibility in his mind that he can reconcile and complete his plan of getting intel on us through her.”

“I asked Rothgar to put me in the restaurant, Dex,” Cecily said. “Please don’t veto this. I have a right to help take him down.” She lifted her chin and said defiantly, “And I keep a cool head in the field.”

Fuck, Shane thought.

“Well, Dex, what’s it going to be?” Rothgar said.

Dex stared at Rothgar. He stared at his sister and immediately looked away with a guilty look. “This is messed up . . . but no veto.” And then he shot a dirty look at Shane.

Rothgar’s eyes narrowed as he followed the dirty look home.

Shane stayed blank.

“No veto from Dex. Cecily’s with Shane at the restaurant. Done. Let’s move on. That means Chase will be working home base throughout the rest of the mission, so the continuity works for me there too. Anyone got a problem with the bones of this plan?” Rothgar asked, his voice a little sharp.

Shane looked over at Dex, who practically had smoke coming out of his ears.

Rothgar crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the desk. “Okay, ladies, let’s fucking kiss and make up. Whatever your beef, we do not have the time.”

Aw, shit. He should’ve made his apology back when he had the chance. Shane lifted his hand in the air like he was turning himself in to the cops in some bad Western. “I said something to Dex about Cecily I shouldn’t have said.”

Cecily’s eyes widened, and what sounded like the entire team said, “Whoaaaaa.”

Shane looked at Dex. “And now I’m apologizing.” He took it like a man, gaze straight on Dex. “You gonna make me say what it was, with her here, in front of everybody?”

After a moment Dex said, “We’re fine. It’s fine. We’re fine. Sorry to bring it into the war room, Roth. Everything’s fine.”

“No bullshit. If it’s not fine. Air it. Otherwise, it’s done. Understood?”

“Understood,” Dex said.

Rothgar’s gaze shifted back to Shane.

Jaysus, but it was not pleasant to get momma-henned by Rothgar. Worse than a sucker punch. He could see the other guys holding back their laughter. “Understood,” Shane echoed. “It’s fine.”

Fine enough to get on with shit, but not fine enough to feel the same brand of comfortable they used to have. But since Shane now realized Cecily hadn’t quit his system, he suspected things between him and Dex weren’t going to get comfortable again for some time.

Thank god Roth called an end to this tweaked version of group therapy; he was sending everybody out. As they left, Missy handed out her “blueprints” for each man’s part in the job. Shane got the one with Romeo’s name crossed out: a list two pages long.

Missy had also drawn a smiley face on top alongside the scrawl “Don’t get made.”

He was halfway down the hall before it occurred to him she might have been talking about something other than the mission.

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