Page 27 of Evening Shadows

When the pilot cleared them, Ken opened the door and dropped the stairs. After a quick sweep of the area, seeing as best as he could in the dark, he led the team onto the tarmac near a hangar.

At zero-dark-thirty, they spread out and searched the area with NVGs to see through the darkness but returned with frowns.

“Where’s our transport?” Stone asked.

Damn good question. Ken didn’t give Jesse time to make the call to Devon. Phone in hand, he hit speed dial. Before he could utter a word, Devon rushed, “Stand by. I’m working on it.”

This had to be the first time ever Devon had not had something ready for them. Even though he heard Devon speaking with someone—in Spanish no less—he asked, “What the hell happened?” He should apologize for his angry tone, but he couldn’t right now. They needed that transport to rescue Cody but to also get there in time to stop Beverly from getting in the way.

“Okay,” Devon said. “I received the call when you landed that your transport hadn’t arrived. I hired a new group, but it could be close to an hour before they arrive since they’ll be waking drivers. The vehicles won’t be armored like the ones I initially hired, but since they’re dropping you off so far away from your destination, you shouldn’t need that option.”

“Sen—”

“I’m sending their names and photos to your handhelds.” Ken smiled at Devon’s ability to anticipate.

The team had to do something they hated unless it was when they were in position—wait. Starting off an op with a glitch left him with a sour stomach. Now more than ever, he didn’t question his decision to protect Sam. No matter how strong he knew her to be, she wasn’t invincible.

11

Confused at the fact that Ken planned to follow and remain with her, Sam climbed into the waiting SUV. When the driver leered at her with open lust, even while she carried her gear and wore face paint, her skin crawled with disgust. Something about him screamed sleazy drug dealer.

A small part of her wanted to be childish and stick her finger in her mouth, mocking a vomiting act. But as a professional, she pushed that aside and remembered she had a KA-BAR on her waist, a small knife in her boot, a SIG Sauer on her thigh, and her new sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. Any of them would be useful if he decided to act with his groin calling the shots.

With Stone escorted to the commercial terminal to head off Bev, the team split into groups of three for transport and somehow she ended up with Jesse and Ken again. Thinking a bit irrationally, something inside her told her this op provided her a great opportunity to decide how she’d proceed on either walking away from the evidence Bev’s investigator had uncovered or finding a way to make the two men pay.

When she’d first scanned the investigation report Bev had sent her, the need for vengeance bled through her veins, and she’d allowed her friend to feed that desire until Sam had seen nothing but red. Reading it in black and white and knowing these men, she couldn’t reconcile the actions they’d taken that fateful day.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t planned any retaliation against them. Maybe it had more to do with her and Ken’s growing relationship. Either way, she had to reconsider all she and Bev had discussed. While she’d never committed to anything, Bev had asked her to kill them.

While Sam may be struggling to believe the new information, Bev would accept anything that laid the blame for Adam’s death at someone’s doorstep. Even after, Sam wasn’t sure she’d stop.

And, now she’d brought the men straight into Bev’s orbit. What would happen after they found Cody? Could Bev forgive them since they’d brought back Adam’s son?

Closing her eyes and holding back tears of sorrow, despair, and confusion, she knew Bev had not only shared the intel with her because Lance died too but because she was in the best position to take out Jesse and Ken. Her friend actually thought she could be capable of murder. Vengeance, yes, but still murder.

Worse, on a personal level, she couldn’t get Ken out of her mind. His presence tilted all her emotions and thoughts. That kiss… nine years after their last, had been better than she’d remembered. With the heat… the passion… her senses went into a whirlwind.

She loved being an agent with HIS. The camaraderie of the team and how they’d enfolded her into their midst told her she’d found a home. And the rekindling of a relationship with Ken had helped her bring back the female part of her that had died with her husband. All in all, this was where she wanted to be.

The question became whether risking that for something that happened in the past was worth it. Or, did the dead require justice?

If Ken hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago, refusing to become involved even though they shared an attraction that had never diminished, she’d probably never have dated and married Lance. She closed her eyes, dropped her head and sighed. It’d all changed ten long years ago, yet she couldn’t push it all aside. Ken had always been there. The before and after Lance kisses—as she referred to them—the hanging out with him and Lance, and Ken being her support after her husband died.

With her small backpack on the floorboard between her legs, watching her side of the road as she knew Ken did on his side on their ride to Chiapas, Sam continued her attempt to rationalize things.

Since their recent kiss, everything had changed. He’d finally decided they should be together, and God, she wanted him so damn much. Well, her body… her mind… and soul did, but she refused to give him her heart as she’d been fool enough to do that in the past. Plus there was the mind-blowing development of his involvement in Lance’s death to contend with.

Doubt swirled in her gut, her heart squeezing.

“Do you think Stone can get Beverly back on a plane?” Ken asked softly from beside her on the back seat. Not trusting their driver, they’d only spoken in low tones and not about op specifics.

Sam looked at him, and his gaze almost floored her. She’d never seen worry in his eyes, but she caught a flash of it before he pulled on his mask. With a brief shake of her head, she gave him her honest opinion. “I don’t know. I think I should’ve gone to talk her into it.”

“Believe me, that had been my initial thought. But two things changed my mind. First, your Spanish is horrible and not everyone speaks English enough to understand what you might require.”

She couldn’t argue there. Without the little refresher on the plane, she wouldn’t be able to find a bathroom on her own.

“Second,” he continued, “I need you.”

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