Page 108 of The Wolves Come at Night
Taylor actually liked the sheik—he was handsome, sporty, full of tallish tales, and whether he believed their cooked-up story or not, remarkably gallant about the whole thing. This was certainly a world she was going to have to get used to, should she agree to work with Macallan ever again. She was still having doubts.
She didn’t have Game’s death on her conscience, though. Angelie had taken care of that. When they landed, while Taylor ushered Carson from the plane and into Santiago’s waiting arms, Angelie had gone into the sheik’s bedroom and emerged fifteen minutes later, a look of horror on her face. She’d gone straight to Santiago, pulled him to a quiet corner, and shared some news that made the man pale. They left him there, standing over his crutches, and Taylor could have sworn he was crying.
Taylor would find out the whole story later, that his husband had been in on the kidnapping, that Richard Conway was miraculously alive, that he was on his way to the safe house with his rescued wife, waiting for their rescued daughter.
But for now, Taylor’s part of the deal was done, and Angelie was getting her back to Nashville forthwith. The Gulfstream had been rescued from its temporary slot, new pilots assigned, and would be leaving as soon as they finished their “drinkies” with the sheik. His word, not hers.
Taylor was feeling pleasantly mellow when at last the bottles were empty. She had to admit, the people who ran in these circles did have excellent taste in wine. She accepted the sheik’s hand and promised to be in touch if she ever needed anything, then followed Angelie from the plush living room down the stairs to the hangar floor, trying and failing to ignore the ghosts of the men they’d killed during the operation.
On the Gulfstream, Angelie gestured for Taylor to take a seat. She went to the back of the plane and returned with a file folder.
“Payment,” she said, smiling as she handed it over.
Taylor flipped it open and saw the heartbreakingly adorable face of her fiancé’s son. There was no question whose child it was, he was a carbon copy of Baldwin, only with his mother’s red hair. Something inside her cracked, and she closed the folder and set it gently on the seat next to her.
“All the information is there. Thank you, Taylor Jackson. I fear things would have gone very badly if you hadn’t been a part of this operation. You will make an excellent operative for the Macallan Group.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Angelie crossed her arms. Taylor knew her well enough now to know she was impatient to be gone. But there was something Angelie needed to know.
“Are we secure?”
Angelie raised a brow. “No one is listening.”
“Thierry was in touch with me earlier. He asked me to do something. Something I don’t particularly want to do. He asked me to eliminate you. That you were a liability Macallan could no longer afford. That you were too sloppy on this operation, that too many things went wrong. You were out of the game too long, he said.”
There was a weapon in the Gulfstream’s seat. A Glock 40. It had been left for her when she’d received her assignment. She lifted it from its hiding place, letting it rest in her palm.
A slow smile spread across Angelie’s face. “He does not understand you at all, does he?”
Taylor smiled in return. “No. He doesn’t. I think he was expecting me to jump at the chance.”
“Did you tell him yes, or no?”
There was a bit of tension in the assassin’s shoulder now. Taylor took a deep breath, watching her. She popped out the magazine, pulled the slide, caught the bullet that was ejected.
Laid them on the seat.
“There was a time, Angelie Delacroix, that all I wanted was to see you dead. Not anymore.”
“And there was a time I wanted to see you dead, Taylor Jackson. Not anymore.”
“So what do we do now?”
Angelie sat down. “Well, that depends on you. Are you going to join Macallan? Has Thierry earned your loyalty?”
Taylor laughed. “No. He has not. I don’t trust that man as far as I can throw him.” She settled for a moment, crossing her legs as she got more comfortable in the seat. “This isn’t my world, Angelie. Yes, I can operate in it—I can operate in any scenario. I’ve trained for it my whole adult life. But I am my best self in Nashville. Fighting for the people of the city. I don’t think I can take on the world. Certainly not without you by my side.”
“We made a good team, did we not?”
“Shockingly, yes. But I don’t want to operate in that space. I like rules. I like being boring, and predictable.” She put a hand on the file folder. “I think we’re going to have quite a lot to deal with for the time being.”
Angelie nodded. “You will. And you will do the right thing. I have no doubt.”
“I don’t know if there’s a right or wrong when it comes to Baldwin’s child, but I’m willing to try. So what will you do about Thierry?”
“What should I do?” Angelie asked, and Taylor sensed genuine curiosity in her tone.
