Page 72 of Deceive Me
He dressed quickly. Before leaving his room, he unlocked Sydney’s door so she could exit if she needed him. He hadn’t intended to leave it locked, but after he and Elliot…well, he’d passed out harder than he’d intended. The worry was wearing him down, obviously—unacceptable on an op, but it wasn’t going away until his daughter’s safety was guaranteed.
Careful to be quiet, he eased her door open, needing to see her, to remind himself that, no matter what shit was hitting the fan, his daughter was secure. Sydney lay curled around Katie Kitty, the blanket twisted around her body, a frown pulling at her mouth. As he walked closer, he could see the frantic movements of her eyes beneath the closed lids: a dream. Good or bad? He did his best to keep her waking hours calm, but the chaos of the past few days was enough to disturb the calmest adult, much less four-year-old. Was it finding an outlet in her dreams?
Helplessness was a twist in his gut that he was becoming very familiar with lately. He was a warrior, not a mother. How did he soothe his child and fight off her tormenters at the same time?
In the end all he knew to do was lay his hand on her head, hoping against hope that the warmth and reassurance of his presence would soothe her. When she quieted beneath his touch, his stomach unknotted a little, but still he left her door cracked open so he could hear her if she called out.
And then he turned to face whatever awaited him in the living room.
The three-man team he’d left when he went to bed was doubled when Deacon exited the bedroom and cracked the door behind him. The increase in numbers made his heart jump into his throat. “What happened?”
“Elliot’s gone.”
It took a moment for the meaning of the words to register. His immediate reaction was denial—no, she wouldn’t do this to him, not again. Something must’ve happened. “Where? We need to find her.”
“I don’t think she wants to be found,” Dain said as he entered through the main door. Alvarez followed him inside.
The weary look on Dain’s face threatened to tear through Deacon’s disbelief, but he clung stubbornly. He’d made love to Elliot just a couple of hours ago, held her in his arms, connected to her on a level that he’d only ever shared with Jules. She wouldn’t walk out without telling him where she was going—and besides, there was nowhere for her to go; they didn’t have Mansa’s location.
“She wouldn’t leave without—”
“Deacon.” The guttural tone of Dain’s voice hit harder than a shout. “You and Fionn almost died yesterday. Your daughter could’ve died if she’d been with you. Elliot cares…a lot, for you and your daughter. I’m not even sure why I’m surprised.”
King grunted an agreement.
Deacon opened his mouth—to argue or simply scream, he wasn’t sure—but Dain forestalled either reaction. “If Elliot thought what she was doing would keep you both safe, she sure as hell would walk out that gate and never think twice about it. And she wouldn’t tell you because she wouldn’t want you following her and putting yourself in jeopardy.”
“That’s not her fucking choice to make!”
Dain scoffed. “And we both know how much that matters to her.”
“You— Damn it, Dain!” He channeled his fury, his frustration into a hard growl, forced himself to turn away, pace it off instead of strangling the man in front of him. Dain was right, Deacon knew it even if he didn’t want to, and taking this out on him wouldn’t do them a fucking bit of good.
Dain gave him a moment, long enough that Deacon could gather the tattered remnants of his control. Still pacing, he forcibly turned his mind to tactical mode. Maybe if he could lock away the emotion, the memories, the fear…that was the only way he’d get through this. Focus on the details, the op. What had happened to the soldier who’d taken Andre Diako out with a single steady shot?
He fell in love, dumb-ass.
“How do you know she’s left instead of just going out for a run?”
It was King who answered. “She told me she was going down to the commissary. When twenty minutes passed and no Elliot, I started making calls. She left through the front gate almost half an hour ago.”
“Where would she be going?” Deacon argued. “We don’t know where Mansa is.”
Alvarez spoke up for the first time. “We do now.” Deacon noted absently that the man still wore his suit, still unrumpled, tie still knotted, hair perfect. Did he never sleep? “Not long after Smith left, I received a call from medical. Sheppard became agitated after Smith went to her room. Started kicking up a fuss, demanding to speak to someone associated with the case, fighting off the staff when they tried to sedate her to calm her down. They called me.” His grin was more shark than not. “Seems our intrepid little techie had more than one secret. She gave Smith the location.”
Fionn cursed under his breath. “Why didn’t Sheppard give it to us?”
Alvarez shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can guarantee you I will, sooner than later.”
Because they’d force her. Deacon wanted to be okay with that, yet the thought of the woman they all referred to as girl being tortured twisted him up inside. A common state for him lately, it seemed.
The thought brought a grim smile to his face. He wanted to storm after Elliot and put her over his knee, make sure that every step she took for days would remind her not to run off half-cocked with no backup. He wanted even more to knot his fists in her hair and fuck her until the desperate fear in his gut finally dissolved. The first wasn’t happening, and the latter would have to wait—he had an op to prep. “Do we know the location?”
The commander started talking back doors and algorithms and Deacon stopped listening. The answer was no. Except…
He dug in his pants pocket—empty. “Did she take the SUV?” It made the most sense. They had brought one of GFS’s vehicles and one of JCL’s with them, but Deacon had been carrying the GFS keys.
Alvarez brought his phone to his ear.
