Page 32 of Always Been Mine

“That was taken yesterday at the Metropolitan PoliceDepartment. Someone is either trying to make me visible or making sure I know my daughter is not safe.”

Fury and helplessness rendered Gabe speechless. Beatrice was heading straight into the belly of the enemy. Nostrils flaring, he pushed through gritted teeth. “We have to tell her what’s going on.”

“Not yet.”

“Damn it, Admiral. Travis lost Caitlin because of Project Infinity. Are you willing to lose a daughter now, too?”

“Are you willing to tell her your part in the op that nearly got Caitlin killed? Are you willing to tell her what you’ve done for the Zorin Bratva, Gabe? That you’ve killed people in cold blood to become the most feared assassin in all the echelons of Russian organized crime? That you are the Angel of Death—Dmitry Yerzov?”

“If I have to. If that will keep her alive.”

“You’ve really chosen my daughter above everything else, haven’t you?” the admiral said softly. “Be careful what you tell her; do not compromise other ops or agents.”

“Goes without saying, Admiral,” Gabe said darkly. It angered him that the admiral would feel the need to tell him this. The sedan stopped a hundred feet away from the U.S. Capitol complex.

“Take care of her, Commander.”

“I’m ready!”Beatrice chirped, stepping out of her bedroom. She insisted on changing her clothes before going sleuthing in Cloverleaf. Gabe agreed, because no way could she blend in the rough neighborhood wearing one of her designer suits, cashmere coat, and thousand-dollar shoes.

Right now, she was wearing jeans that hugged her slender form and black combat boots. She slipped on a ratty coat, her face scrubbed free of makeup and hair twined in a fat braid.

She looked incredibly young and beautiful.

“How do I look?”

“Like a female version of Oliver Twist,” Gabe teased.

He grunted when Beatrice jabbed an elbow in his gut as she passed him to pick up her messenger bag. She transferred some items from the purse she used earlier, and then she opened the middle drawer underneath her kitchen counter and took out a gun.

Gabe arched a brow. If he was finding her hot before, more so now. She never failed to surprise him.

“You seem to have scenarios like this down pat.”

“I told you, Gabe.” Beatrice tucked her gun in her bag. “It’s what I do. I’m not reckless. I would never go alone. Usually Nate goes with me, or one of the other BSI guys, but since you’re here, I don’t need to bother them.”

“Damn straight,” Gabe muttered.

“I’m assuming you’re doing this for free.” She eyed him teasingly.

Gabe stared at her lips. “I accept different forms of payment.”

He watched a blush steal up her cheeks. He didn’t regret the innuendo, and he wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and slide inside her instead of traipsing across town and probably getting shot.

“That better be a joke, Sullivan.” She was glaring at him, which only made him want to fuck her more. Her attitude was a definite turn on for him.

“Come on. Save your attitude for later.” His lips twitched in amusement. “I’ve a feeling you’ll need it.”

“This is Luisa Delgado’s address,”Beatrice informed Gabe. They were in front of a ten-story building. The entrance consisted of a collapsed expandable metal gate thathad seen better times and dusty aluminum-framed glass doors.

She was about to step inside when Gabe pulled her back. “Wait. Let me go in first. You have a bodyguard. Use me.”

Beatrice huffed in irritation. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Gabe speared her an irritated look. She wondered how long before he would strangle her. She’d been sniping at him all the way from DC to Cloverleaf, and except for the tightening of his fingers on the steering wheel—probably imagining her neck—he’d been amiable.

They used the stairs since the elevator wasn’t working. Walls were covered with graffiti and the rickety steps were littered with garbage and people. Most of them were junkies—stoned, filthy, and most likely homeless. Beatrice thought she did a good job of blending in with a skull cap over her head, but Gabe was a big guy, and everyone who wasn’t drugged out eyed him warily. She noticed a boy of about ten run out of the building.

The little snitch.

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