Page 73 of Deceive Me
She stole the keys while you were sleeping. After you had sex. After you told her you loved her.
He remembered drifting off and thinking he heard tears, and the truth hit him: Elliot had been planning this then. She’d been planning, and hurting, and he’d fallen asleep. His woman had needed him, and he’d fallen asleep.
Damn it.
“What the hell could she be thinking?” Fionn asked. “Mansa isn’t alone. She cannot be believing she can take them all on her own.”
Deacon looked at his best friend, watched him rub a hand over the bandage covering the wound on the back of his head. Beside him was Dain, the man who’d saved Elliot before she’d even realized she needed saving. Then Saint, his crucifix shining in the dim light. King, anger and frustration and fear mixing in his expression. And Trapper, whose scars and pain could not be missed. “She’s not trying to take them all,” he said, the pieces coming together in his mind. “She’s only going for Mansa. He wants her alive. It’s a given that she can get in the same room with him.” The rightness of the plan settled in him, right alongside the gut-wrenching fear. His woman, on her own, with a madman.
His woman. Maybe spanking her ass wasn’t totally out of the question.
He met Dain’s troubled gaze. “She just might succeed.”
Dain nodded. Deacon saw his throat work as he swallowed hard.
“She has our SUV,” Alvarez finally confirmed.
“Good. Get her tracked, Commander.” He didn’t care if Alvarez was the boss or not; on this op, Deacon was in charge. “And get me a small army.” His heart wanted to focus on Elliot, but he had to step back and look at the bigger picture: this was the opportunity they had been waiting for, the possibility of taking the fight to Mansa instead of waiting it out. Their scout was already in; now they needed to save her ass and take the target.
“Already on it,” Alvarez said. “You’ll know logistics as soon as I do.”
“Suit up,” Dain said. His men went to work.
Fionn and Trapper looked to Deacon.
“Get prepped.”
They didn’t blink, just moved to get ready.
Deacon had turned to grab his weapons when a wail rose up from the bedroom. Sydney.
She was sitting up in her bed, rocking, Katie Kitty still clutched in her arms. Her eyes were unseeing, but hysterical cries poured from her lips. Deacon’s heart nearly stopped at the sight of her. “Little Bit, it’s okay. Daddy’s here.”
His voice seemed to break whatever hold her terror had on her. Frantically she reached for him, sobbing his name. Deacon swept her trembling body into his arms to hold her close. Pet her. Comfort her. He closed his eyes tight.
God almighty, he didn’t know what to do. He needed to be out there, finding Elliot, helping her, killing Mansa and Kivuli and anyone who stood between him and them with his bare hands—and he needed to be here, holding his little girl, keeping her safe, taking away her nightmares. But one of those nightmares had Elliot too. How could he protect them both? How could he make this right for all of them?
His struggle must’ve been obvious, because the next thing he knew, Dain’s hand squeezed down on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do all this alone, you know.”
But he felt like he did. He’d felt like that since Jules took her last breath and left them behind, he and their daughter, to face this world alone. He’d been responsible for Andre’s death, and he’d needed to fix the consequences. But he couldn’t, not by himself. He needed help.
He’d think about how much that sucked ass later.
“Can you run point, get us ready?” he asked Dain.
The man was already walking toward the door. “I’ll try not to feel insulted that you had to even wonder that, much less ask.”
At least his smile this time was genuine, if small. He listened to the sounds of men preparing for battle outside his door while inside, his baby girl curled in his arms and slowly calmed, her body no longer rigid, her tears dying away. When shivers racked her, he tugged up the blanket, cocooning her in warmth, and rocked her quietly. By the time Dain returned, she’d drifted back to sleep.
“We’re ready to move.”
Deacon gave him a nod and stood. After laying Sydney carefully on the bed and covering her once more, he followed Dain into the main bedroom. “Dain.”
The older man turned, one brow lifted.
“You’re staying here.”
“No, I—”
