Page 82 of Covert Temptation

This had been their place, their beginning, a space where he let himself believe there was more for him than just being the shadow at the edge of every mission. The ghost between war zones.

He had found his person.

Or he thought he did.

His chest burned, and his throat swelled with bottled salt. Blearily, he looked at nothing.

Then his vision focused, and the purse caught his eye.

He launched to his feet and rushed across the room. Kennedy’s prized handbag was tossed on the couch in a haphazard fashion.

She never would have left it that way. The woman wrapped her designer bags in tissue, for Christ’s sake.

He lifted his head as another thing hit his consciousness.

The house was dark.

Sheneverkept it dark. Kennedy was a creature of warmth and light and chaos, and she would have flipped on every single light in the safe house to chase away the shadows.

She hadn’t run. Hewantedto believe she hadn’t, but this proved it. The purse, the dark house, the untouched computer with a blank screen instead of cherry blossoms.

She’d been taken.

“Jesus.” His voice broke as he stumbled to the kitchen to look for her boots.

They were gone—the ones she’d dropped the tracking device in with a smile like she was proving something to him.

He grabbed his phone with numb fingers and stabbed the screen, yanking up the tracking app. Thank Christ he’d had the smarts to add the AirTag to his phone.

“Oh god.” His lips felt cold and lifeless as he saw the dot pulsing on the map.

In seconds, he zoomed in to see a barn in a spot even more remote than the safe house.

His panic flared white-hot.

No other structures were nearby, but it wasn’t far away.

He hit dial. Con answered on the second ring, his voice clipped, a heavy wind in the background. “King. We’re in the field. What’s going on?”

“I left her alone.” Dante’s voice came out jagged. “Now she’s gone. Kidnapped. She was taken while I was gone.”

“Shit. When?”

“Just now. I saw the vehicle. Her tracker’s pinging—an isolated barn. I’m sending you the coordinates.”

“Send them. But Dante…we’re knee-deep in an op. There’s no backup coming for you right now.”

Dante’s heart dropped. “You’re saying I have to go inalone?”

“I’m saying she doesn’t have time to wait. You’re the point man on this op. You’re all she’s got.”

Static crackled. A long pause.

“We’ll talk later,” Con said. “Bring her home.”

The line went dead.

Dante was already in motion, grabbing his gear, locking in his weapon, switching over to a black field jacket. His face in the mirror was stone. Pale. Jaw locked with grief and rage.

---