Not when I can sacrifice the lives of her partners instead.
“As you know, she’s been communicating with two sources, but their IP
addresses were untraceable, and the identities hidden. But sending the drone out
was successful, and I just got intel that she booked a flight for those same two
people to visit her. Their names were on the flight log,” he tells me, pulling up
the information and twirling his laptop to show me.
Gary Lawson and Jeffrey Shelton.
“They’re both lobbyists,” Daya chips in.
“Fitting,” I murmur, looking over the pictures of the two men on Jay’s screen.
Typical, creepy-looking old men who get hard-ons for little children and
making Americans as miserable as possible while living lavishly.
“When are the flights?”
Jay grins, his hazel eyes blazing with excitement.
“Tomorrow. They’re departing from a private airport in Los Angeles.”
I turn to Addie and notice a tiny twig sticking from her hair, along with pieces
of bark, dirt, and a small leaf. There are also small blood spots that are beginning to soak through her blue t-shirt, though she’s trying her best to conceal them.
Worst of all, there’s already a deep bruise forming around her throat, and I’d be a
goddamn liar if I said that didn’t make my dick hard all over again.
It takes effort to bite back my smile. She looks thoroughly ravaged, and she’s
attempting to appear as if she hadn’t been.
Glancing at me, she shoots me a look that says, shut up, or else. The grin begins to slip through.
Such a scary little mouse.
But just this once, I’ll listen.
Which is really hard to do when Daya is staring at her, too, brows raised.
Addie just thins her lips, and I have a feeling they’ll be discussing in detail just how intimate she became with what nature has to offer.
“That gives us just enough time to intercept their flight.”
Addie cocks her head to the side, curious. “What are you planning on doing
exactly?”
Now, I let the grin loose, the savagery bleeding through.
“I know exactly how we’re going to make her come to us.”
Her brows knit in curiosity. “Which is how exactly?”
I train my gaze on Jay, and though he looks just as curious, he also looks wary. Shithead never approves of my plans. Which is stupid. They’re awesome.
“Gary Lawson and Jeffrey Shelton are going to get in a confrontation with Z.
And guess who loses?”
“Them,” Addie guesses confidently.
“No, baby. Me. ”
Addie bounces on her toes, nervous energy radiating from her in waves. She’s
been restless since we had arrived at the airport a couple of hours ago. We flew
to L.A. as quickly as we could, just to give us time to plan and prepare. Now, we’re waiting in the private jet on the airstrip, and she’s started morphing into the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes.
“Why don’t you take a seat? They’re comfortable as fuck,” I suggest.
To emphasize my point, I kick my feet up on the little brown wooden table in
front of me and recline back.
“How can you be so relaxed right now?” she asks, but she’s looking at the seat like maybe it wouldn’t hurt if her ass sat in it for just a second.
“This is the least exciting thing I’ve ever done while on the job.”
She arches a brow, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was offended.
“Well, that’s fucking rude,” she says dryly. Definitely offended. I grin.
“Would you like to go up to the front seat and fuck next to the dead pilot?” I
query, very interested in what her answer will be.
She always surprises me.
Right as she opens her mouth, distant voices arise, distracting her like a dog
spotting a cat.
Damn. I’ll have to pull that answer out of her later.
The voices draw nearer, and she instantly stands, rolling her shoulders to release the tension lining them. She hasn’t gotten accustomed to going on missions yet, and her anxiety persists, despite her being able to fight. There are some days she gets through my defenses even and knocks me on my ass. But the
way she looks right now, it’s as if she’s about to appear before a judge and get
sentenced to life or some shit.
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Adeline,” I draw lazily, my muscles languid
and relaxed. They usually are when blood is about to spill all over my hands.
“I’m not,” she defends. “They’re old, saggy men. Their security guards—”
“Are my men,” I finish. Addie’s mouth forms an O.
“You sneaky dog,” she whispers, a smile tipping up her plump lips. Those caramel orbs stare at me with an amused glint.
We both quiet as the two men and their respective guards approach the steps
and start climbing, the metal ringing beneath their weight.
“She’s going to have to come back to the states eventually,” one of them mutters, sounding irritated.
The first person that breaches the entryway is Michael, and I almost laugh when he slides his gun from his holster and points it at me.
Jeff and Gary follow behind, with another one of my men, Baron, taking up
the back.
“What is going on here?” Gary exclaims, the two old men pausing and
backing up the moment they spot us.
I lift a hand in a hello gesture. “I’ve come to turn myself in, Gary. Why else
would I be here?”
“Turn yours—what on earth are you talking about? Who are you?”
“Ah, terribly sorry,” I say, grinning. I reach over to the seat beside me, grab
my mask, and hold it over my face. “How about now?”
It’s comical how quickly they pale, and their eyes widen, recognizing my
mask from my television appearance.
Tossing it to the side, I tease, “Did you like my presentation? I was really
nervous.”
Gary sputters, unsure how to respond. I stand, and they immediately back
away, two bumbling idiots that bump into Baron in an attempt to create distance,
but the mercenary is like a brick wall.
Jeff turns to Michael, his face now beginning to redden. “Why aren’t you shooting him? Shoot him!”
Michael just stares at him blankly, causing his face to purple. Then, he drops
his gun, smiling when Jeff begins to sputter incoherently.