Page 13 of Point of Contact

“Fucking great.” He rubbed both hands over his face, trying to scrub away the exhaustion making his eyes burn.

He shouldn’t have antagonized her. He should have done what everyone else did when they had to deal with the spoiled daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious drug lords. Played along.

But he couldn’t do it.

She represented everything he shouldn’t be a part of. Reminded him of just how much he sold out in the name of financial security. How far from his own ethics he’d been willing to drift when push came to shove.

And if he didn’t go find her now, he’d be stuck with her for even longer.

He grabbed the keycard for the room and stalked out into the hall. It was empty, but there were only so many places she could go. The elevator wasn’t moving and it was unlikely she had enough time to not only wait for its arrival, but also take it wherever she was planning to go. He turned toward the stairs, passing the well when he heard a soft sound from a few doors down.

He found Courtney in the vending room, tucked against the wall next to the ice machine. She sucked in a sharp breath when he walked in, turning away as one hand came to wipe at her wet cheeks.

He didn’t like this woman. Never had. She rubbed him every wrong way there was.

But he still didn’t mean to make her fucking cry.

It was one of the few emotions he’d never seen from her. And it was one of the few things he appreciated about her. At least she didn’t manipulate with tears.

So seeing them now stopped him short. Made him force in a deep breath in the hopes it might calm some of the aggravation he connected with her. Not all of it was her fault and he should be better at remembering that. Better about not punishing her for his own choices.

“Courtney, I—” His attempt at an apology was cut off by a familiar noise.

One that sent a chill racing down his spine.

Someone was coming down the hall, the pattern of their steps making it clear they were trying to mask the sound. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, but after years of needing to know where everyone around him was in almost every situation, he picked up on it almost immediately.

Courtney, however, did not.

She spun to face him, her earlier sadness replaced by a more familiar expression. Anger. And he knew well how she handled that particular emotion.

Loudly.

Before she could open her mouth, he grabbed her, shoving her back into her original hiding spot as one hand clamped over her mouth. He held her wide gaze, praying that for once she wouldn’t fight him.

Her hands came to his shirt, gripping tightly. But not to shove him away.

Instead, she held on. Going still except for a tiny nod of her head.

CHAPTER FIVE

COURTNEY

REED’S EXPRESSION WAS deadly serious as he slowly lifted one finger to his lips, like he didn’t think she’d already figured out it was time to shut up.

She was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. The minute his body tensed up, it was obvious something was wrong. So right now, there was no way she’d open her mouth.

Not even if he asked her nicely.

Courtney pressed herself tighter to the wall, like it might make her invisible. Reed obviously thought whatever, or whoever, was out in that hall was a threat. She'd been careful, but there were cameras everywhere. The chances that she was able to make it here without being seen by anyone or recorded in any way, was slim to none. And the possibility she’d led them right to her had her stomach clenching around the almonds she’d scarfed down when she thought life was about to get better.

Wrong.

Reed started to step away and she gripped his shirt tighter, shaking her head. He couldn't leave her here alone.

His hands came to hers, warm and strong as they gently unwound her fingers from the fabric, his eyes holding hers the whole time. She knew what he was trying to tell her, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

He needed to go see what was up and couldn’t do that with her tagging along.

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