Page 9 of Shockproof

Fingerprints can be run.

DNA checked.

Handwriting analyzed.

The love of my lifedoesthe latter, and something tells me theyknowthat.

Whoever the fuck they are.

“It h-h-had a photo of the target. Keycard access to the gate and building. M-m-map. There was a… um…also a photo of um…you-”

“Me?” My brow pulls tightly together. “Why?”

“Instructions said to…wait until…youleft to infiltrate.”

Theyknewthis shit would never be possible with me around, which is why I shouldalwaysbe around.

Like now.

Wait.

What ifthis shitis a trap?

A diversion to get me away from her for a secondary attack.

What if that was whoever’s plan all along?

What if this asshole was just some sort of long con decoy?

“Reynolds,” I snap at the same time I shoot my stare to him, “call Blu. Get a status report.”

He nods, steps closer to the only door, and retrieves his cell to make the call.

“Why didn’t you attack right away?” Unapproved anxiousness has questions springing free at a more rapid pace. “Why didn’t you attack theminuteI left the premises? How’d youknowwhen I left the premises? Were you followin’ me?”

“I was,” he airily recalls, swollen lids still struggling not to fall shut. “I tailed you onto the freeway for a bit and then um…headed back. It guaranteed you weregone,and it uh…bought me enough time to not look…suspicious.”

Attacking themoment,I was gone would’ve raised countless alarms.

It would’ve caused an immediate call for my return which I would’ve given because I wasn’t in the middle of a mission. I was at the beginning, the easiest time to cut, regroup, and reschedule.

We would’ve turned our asses right around hadanyonesent me a text that they simplyfeltsomething was wrong.

Or off.

I’m a man of instinct more than anything else.

That shit has not only saved my life but countless others.

This asshole played it the right way.

He played it smart.

Too bad that’s the choice that’s going to cost him his life.

“Blu says the situation is secure.” Reynolds backtracks to his previous position.

Breaking eye contact is thoughtlessly done. “How secure?”

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