Page 52 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

“Sophia, I’d like you to meet Graham Powers. I got in touch with him while you were in the shower at the Kramer’s place. Agreed to meet him here.”

“Ah, so you’re the lady Ethan has been traipsing about the South with.”

He offers his hand, which I politely shake.

He shoots Ethan a look that I interpreted as man-code for, “man, you really landed a hottie.”

I’m flattered … I guess.

“Like I was telling Ethan, things are moving much too slowly for my satisfaction, so I put together a little package that should be hitting the networks,” he looks down at his watch, “right about now.”

“Graham has been working with Yiva, and they’ve dug up a lot of shit we didn’t even know about. It also turns out my family has been working with Whitmore a lot longer than I was aware. Looks like dear old mom and dad are in for a bit of a reckoning.”

“Look, I gotta split,” Graham says. “Can’t stick around in more than one place for long, but with any luck, most of this seriousshit should be over by the weekend. You’ll still have to watch your back, but what are you going to do? Peace out, brother.”

“What if he was followed?” I whisper as Ethan’s friend disappears into the crowd of people.

“What? Graham? You’re kidding, right?” He almost spits out his drink.

“Graham was Force Recon in the Marines. He was into spookier shit than I was. When we went somewhere in Afghanistan or wherever, there was a good chance Force Recon had been there before us. Graham was not followed.”

I want to believe him, but how many times had he implied that we were safe—only to find out later, we weren’t?

Despite Ethan’s assurances, I can’t shake the thought that his friend may have been followed.

21

ETHAN

The van with darkened windows is four cars back, pacing us.

I find it hard to believe Graham could possibly have been followed, but now Sophia’s fears are beginning to play on my mind.

It’s not impossible.

Still, this vehicle doesn’t fit the profile.

Then again, if they’re smart, they’ll know we’re on the lookout.

We picked them up outside of Roanoke, and they’ve been following us for the past fifty miles.

I’ve slowed down and sped up, but they seem to be staying right with me.

Time to put an end to this.

I’m not sure where the next exit leads. It’s poorly marked, and there don’t seem to be any services available.

From the left lane, I wait until the last minute and swerve across the right lane, taking the exit at high speed.

To my relief, the van does not try to follow. They don’t even seem interested.

Shit!

Sophia has got me so keyed up, I’m not even trusting my own judgment.

So, this is what love does to you?

I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

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