Page 56 of Desire Me
Again with the laugh. “You know, when Pop told us you were going off on your trip a year early, we didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe him. I mean, you were still in school. A semester before you would graduate. You’ve dreamed about this trip since you were a teenager, so why rush your plans? But you were already gone, just disappeared off the face of the earth. Not even a goodbye, Rae.”
He was hurt; she could sense that. He didn’t know why she’d left. And she wanted to tell him—it was on the tip of her tongue—but tell him what? She barely remembered Nate, her best friend, apparently, much less why she’d run from her family.
“I know, Nate, and I’m sorry. I won’t gone so long again without contacting you.”
Silence met her declaration, then, “So what made you break the radio silence?”
A lump swelled in her throat, choking her. “I just— I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.” And in that moment she realized it was true. She missed the little boys she could see in her memories, the voice she could hear on the other side of the phone. The security of family, of home. Of knowing. “Don’t mention this to your dad, okay? He’ll be angry I didn’t call him too.”
“He sure as fuck will be.”
A tiny grin curved the side of her mouth even as she wondered if her uncle would be angry for a whole different reason than her cousin. Considering he was the one who’d given Nate the excuse that she was traveling, apparently some trip she’d planned a long time ago, she had to assume she was right. “I’ve gotta run,” she choked out, then cleared her throat, trying to ease the tightness there. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”
Nate wasn’t involved, she knew that now. She didn’t have concrete evidence, but she didn’t need to; she just…knew. So was the same true for the rest of her cousins? All of them, or just Nate? Who knew, but at least she had confirmation of one person who knew her, loved her, even if he was angry. And to get back to him, to get back to her life, she had to figure out what the hell was going on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Staring down the street toward the house they were here to infiltrate, Saint felt his entire being narrowing down to this moment. This one act.
Keeping his woman safe.
They weren’t going after newbs either. The four-man team had chosen a nondescript ’80s ranch house in a nondescript, typical ’80s neighborhood. The kind of neighborhood that had aged not so gracefully in the midst of suburban sprawl, now surrounded by the detritus of strip malls and fast-food joints and used car lots. The value had declined, but the couples who had raised their kids here now clung, four decades later, to the memories in the aged brick and weed-strown sidewalks.
It was the kind of place where every front window was covered in lacy curtains, and every set of curtains hid a nosy retiree.
“Wonder how many geezers have already reported us to the local police station,” Dain said absently as he strapped his bulletproof vest across his broad chest.
“Are you sure ‘geezer’ should be a word in your vocabulary?” Remi asked, eyeing the gray hair sprinkling Dain’s chin stubble.
King snorted. “You fit right in, you know?” Then to Dain, “You wonder why we live on an estate. It’s not elitism; it’s the lack of prying eyes.”
Dain chuckled. “Whatever you say, bro.”
“Hey, total elitism here,” Remi scoffed, “and proud of it.”
Somehow Saint doubted the Agozi estate had been built to keep the poor out. From what he knew of the family’s background, the brothers hadn’t been raised in the sprawling mansion after their parents and uncle had been killed. No, he had a feeling the compound the Agozis lived in had more to do with security than money.
Saint strapped his own vest on, the wait for them to move making him antsy. He’d been on stakeout after stakeout with his team, and before that, lying in wait in some of the most hellish landscapes the world had to offer. He didn’t have the same background that the rest of his team did. Well, maybe Elliot came close, but he hadn’t known that until recently, when the truth about her past came to light. Dain was ex-military, a long and distinguished career before he went into private security. King had begun in the law enforcement sector, moving to JCL when he got fed up with being stuck on PR duty due to his family connections instead of actually being able to help people.
Not Saint. He was different.
From the time he was little, he’d been physically active—martial arts, boxing, sports of every kind. He’d taken medals in local shooting clubs, where he blew the socks off his competitors. But he hadn’t wanted to leave his family behind, and he’d known, joining the military, he’d have to do that for months, sometimes years at a time. So he’d joined up with an international security company. He could do some good, make good money, use his skills to help people.
Only that wasn’t how it turned out.
The things he’d seen while overseas… Sure, some of his teammates had been honorable. Some of the people they’d worked with on mission were honorable. But they’d been the exception, not the rule. Too many of the people in the mercenary world were ruled by the need to throw their weight, if not their power, around. He’d come home each time feeling dirty, feeling helpless despite being strong, smart, and capable. And yet he’d still thought he could make a difference. It had taken him several years to see that the evil around him had far outweighed the good. When he found Dain and JCL, he knew he’d been given a gift.
Dain knew his background, knew some of the things he been forced to not only witness but try to prevent. Men like his former teammates weren’t your brothers in arms for long if you didn’t keep the code of silence—and that had been impossible for him. Now he was with a team that had his back and was on the same moral plane as he was. This team was as much his family as his sisters and parents, and he knew he could trust them with his life.
He’d never thought to revisit that dark time in his past, never wanted to return to that mindset. Might over right. But with Rae’s life at stake? He’d use every ounce of might he had to keep her safe, right or not.
“How much longer?” he asked.
Remi glanced at the thick black watch strapped to his wrist. “Should be anytime now.”
They knew from the youngest Agozi’s surveillance that two members of the team left every afternoon and evening to retrieve food. Apparently none of the dickheads had ever learned the art of cooking.
“And there they go.”
