Page 88 of Perfect Pursuit

“Of course you’re not,” she tuts. “You’re doing it to save the one person on earth you love more than anyone else.”

Other than your uncle, I think, managing to keep those words unspoken. Instead, I remind her, “You know how to let yourself in when you get here.”

“I do. Text me your schedule and I’ll have drinks ready.”

“That sounds heavenly right now.”

We talk for a few more minutes before I realize I’m going to be late. With a sigh, I tell her I have to go. But before I hang up, I need for her to know something. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“I’m just glad you convinced Mama Helen to tell me at all.” That’s my best friend, showing she knows me and my mother as well as she knows her own. That’s how I knew she’d be fine about my extra job at doing what I have to at Devil’s Lair. Hell, knowing Austyn the way I do, she’ll likely write a song about it.

I just hope Ethan understands why I’m doing it—more importantly, why I had to keep it all a secret. Because as it is, I’ll be risking the last few weeks of my mother’s life just to tell him.

CHAPTER FIFTY

SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA

It’s never too hot for hot chocolate, nor too cold for ice cream.

—Fab and Delish

The fog has rolled in since my plane landed, shrouding the mountainous region with a dangerous curtain to conceal important landmarks and signs.

Almost like the way Fallon did with me.

How could I have been so stupid to believe Fallon wouldn’t fall to the sin of greed when she already fell to lust as if she’d been born nursing at its bosom? I slam my hand against the steering wheel, and the rental car I’m driving jerks in reaction, edging me closer to the dangerous cliff. “Whoa. The idea is to get there and to let her know you know. Not to die in the process.”

Dying can happen back home in Texas with a bottle of whiskey as I systematically erase every part of Fallon Brookes from my life.

I slow and take the turn down the road that leads me to the warehouse Sam traced the calls to while I was in the air. As my rented SUV rattles down the lane, individuals in full tactical gear approach in slow, practiced moves. Even as I coast to a stop, because despite the fact I’m armed and can handle myself, I curse Thorn as I call him on Speaker.

“What?” he snaps.

“Did someone forget to mention the tactical team guarding Devil’s Lair?”

“There are guards?” His voice is shocked.

“Four surrounding me right now,” I confirm.

“Fuck. Hold on.”

My lips curve in amusement as my former boss puts me on hold. “Depending on who he’s calling, I could be sold as a sex slave by the time he comes back.”

“In your wildest dreams, Ethan. You took a wrong turn, you jackass.”

“Not hard to do in this fog.”

He snorts. “Well, it landed you on the backside of one of our training sites. Give them your phone so I can talk to the team leader.”

Feeling like a complete rookie instead of someone who went through Thorn’s special brand of torture, I roll down my window and hold out my cell. A gloved hand snatches my phone away and shortly thereafter a bark of laughter escapes the masked figure. Figuring Thorn’s just given them the stand down procedure and then sold me out because of the damn fog, I know I’m about to take my rightful ribbing.

After my phone is handed back to me, the team lead solemnly repeats, “Sir, the director would like to know if you need backup on your assignment tonight since you’re about a mile away from your turnoff.”

I bare my teeth. “When you call Director Thornton back, you can tell him to suck my dick.”

“No, thank you, sir. I’d really like to pass training.” The agent-in-training’s eyes gleam behind his mask. He points ahead and instructs me, “Go ahead about a quarter of a click. There will be a spot for you to turn around.”

“Thank you.”

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