“You prick!” A husky, feminine voice came through Joe’s
earpiece loud and clear. He watched the front of the lot
and the bar’s entrance but didn’t see anyone out of
place. Then he saw a familiar male form throw his hands
in the air and turn his back on a small woman. The man
stomped off toward the parked vehicles and recognition
hit him. The tall, pissed off man was James Holloway. So
that meant that…
His attention snapped back to where James had been
standing. The spot was empty. He scanned the lot and his
attention snagged and focused on the door. A curvy little
woman with sexy legs and the finest ass he’d ever seen
stepped inside the rowdy bar. The door closed behind her.
He knew those legs. He’d dreamed of having them wrapped
around his waist. And that hair? He’d lay odds that it
smelled like sunshine and flowers. And there was no way
he’d wait fifteen minutes before going in after her.
He’d known she was a friend of Rick’s. The Dark Horse
founder had even referred to her as a team member, but he
still hadn’t put it all together. He had no doubt that
she was an intelligent, capable woman, but he couldn’t
picture her as a war-hardened soldier. The Dark Horse
crew had been in some nasty situations in Afghanistan.
She was too small.
But she was a nurse, right? Maybe she stayed on base or
something and waited for the trauma to come to her? What
were they doing putting her in a situation like this?
Talk about a mess. If Rick’s information was correct and
someone from Potter County showed, then they’d likely see
and recognize him. They’d question his reasons for being
at a dive like the Thirsty Beaver, but that couldn’t be
helped. He’d think of something.
He checked the time and cursed. She expected him to wait
a full fifteen minutes? No way.
“Joe.” Rick’s voice sounded in his earpiece.
“Yeah. I’m going in.” He reached for the handle of
Trent’s truck. He borrowed it because his beast stuck out
like a sore thumb, and anyone from the Sheriff’s
department would recognize it.
“Wait. She’ll be fine for a few. She can handle herself.
Listen. Do you remember the images of Boyd Campbell from
Kate’s rescue? Remember what he looks like? He’s lean,
rangy looking, with brown hair.” Even through the
connection, he heard Rick’s tension.
“Yeah, I do.” He’d never felt such extreme anger for
another person from just their picture before. Everyone
suspected Boyd had kidnapped Kate and delivered her to
Senator Bailey. He’d also framed Trent for murder. When
that fell apart, he planted damning evidence in a way
that placed all suspicion on Bailey. After all of it,
he’d vanished like a cockroach in the light.
“He and Mayhem have a history, and it’s not pretty. Years
ago, when she refused his advances, things got ugly. He
pinned her against a wall and crushed her throat,
injuring her larynx. It’s why her voice sounds the way it
does. Afterward, he dropped off the grid.”
She is so tiny. His anger burned hotter, brighter.
He felt his blood pressure rise and a sudden urge to
choke Campbell came over him. He gripped the steering
wheel and squeezed, reminding himself it wouldn’t be cool
to put his fist through Trent’s window. He took a deep
breath and let it out slowly. “What’s wrong with her
voice?” It sounded fine to him. The first time he heard
it, the low, sexy tone had gone straight to his dick.
“Nothing really, it just never went back to the way it
used to be.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?” His hand itched
to remove the pistol he’d left behind.
“Don’t go right up to her. Wait five minutes then go in,
but sit at the bar and have a beer. Watch her like you’re
attracted to her. Think about how the scene will look
before you make your move. If you rush in and storm right
up to her, it’ll look suspect. You don’t even have to
make a move, just provide an extra set of eyes. Watch
your back. Noah’s inside, and he’ll tell us if he smells
trouble.” Rick sounded resigned, as if trouble were
inevitable. Joe prayed that wasn’t the case.
Storm right up to her? He wasn’t that big of an idiot.
A little voice somewhere in the back of his head laughed
hysterically.
He sat back to watch the five minutes tick by. Hell, he
could do this. He’d give her six.
His fingers fisted on the steering wheel until they
turned white.
