She was now going as Ella Mae McAdams.
Chapter Eight
Jesse stroked his jaw and looked down the hall toward the guest room where Ella had been holed up since the showdown that morning in his living room.
She’d refused to join them for the lunch Savanna had prepared, and thirty minutes ago, A.J. was forced to call through the door to let her know Jesse’s teammates had arrived. Not greeting Jesse’s teammates, even for a minute, wasn’t like Ella at all. Southern hospitality ran in her blood.
To be fair, she had every right to want some time to herself. And she really didn’t need to hear any details about the case, which might only further upset her. Hell, he was struggling to focus on what his two team leaders had said during the last few minutes, too busy wondering if Ella was lying in bed crying.
Jesse wanted to knock down the door, pull her into his arms, and take away all the misery and pain he’d caused her. All he’d ever wanted for that woman was happiness. And to be free from harm. But he couldn’t provide either of those things for her. At least, he never thought he could.
One thing was for certain, he was now the reason she was not only unhappy but also why her life was in danger.
“Ella needs time. And space,” A.J. said as if reading Jesse’s thoughts, and Jesse was glad he was the only Hawkins brother there right now. A.J. had insisted on sitting in with the Falcon team as well as having a say in any plans involving his sister.
Beckett was at work, but he’d taken his daughter with him. He was on edge, and of course, paranoid about someone coming after the people connected to Jesse or Ella.
And Chris was with Rory and A.J.’s wife and son at the Hawkins Ranch to keep an eye on them.
“I could try and talk to her again,” Savanna offered, stepping away from the kitchen counter and free from Griffin’s arms.
“Thank you,” Jesse said, managing to clear his messy thoughts for a moment to answer her. Savanna sent him a polite smile he didn’t deserve before heading toward the hall.
“You two knew, right?” A.J. jerked a thumb between where Carter and Gray sat at the kitchen table, working side by side once Savanna was gone. “You knew Jesse was a hitman before he joined y’all.”
Carter and Gray exchanged a quick look, and Carter nodded, his eyes moving to where Jesse stood with his back to the wall by the door.
A.J. shook his head but didn’t utter a word as he went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. The look of disgust on his face made his thoughts on the matter clear enough.
“Well, the rest of us didn’t know, but I figured there had to be something special about him,” Jack London, their resident comedian on the team, chimed in. “Or maybe weird is the right word.” He made a show of cringing. “Spooks. They’re not my favorite people.”
Not only did Jack look like Ryan Reynolds, but he had the same wit and style of humor as the actor. He’d been in the Army Special Forces, same as Gray, and the two men had been best friends growing up.
After his time in the Army, Jack was part of Ground Branch with the CIA before leaving to work with Gray, but he hadn’t been an assassin like Jesse. He’d been sent on ops to protect CIA officers in the field.
“Hey, my sister is still one of those spooks,” Gray reminded Jack.
“Ah, she’s different.” Jack sipped the sweet tea Savanna had made earlier, sitting across from Sydney and Oliver, who were busy working on their laptops at the kitchen island.
“Don’t forget Carter was once with the Agency,” Sydney pointed out, sweeping her blonde hair into a high ponytail before focusing back on her laptop.
“He had the good sense to leave them.” Oliver looked at Sydney, their latest recruit, and shot her a crooked smile, but she was already focused on her screen.
Well, they didn’t recruit her so much as she managed to track down their secret bunker in the mountains of Pennsylvania and demand a job. She’d been connected to the case involving Savanna, and she’d decided she wanted a career change. A pretty big one. She left her family’s multi-billion-dollar defense company to hunt bad guys with Falcon.
“I think we need to focus on the wife,” Carter suddenly said, drawing Jesse’s attention. “Someone wanted her dead for a reason, and not just because she was Zoran’s wife. And they didn’t want it to look like there was a second shooter or that she’d been specifically targeted.”
It wasn’t shocking Carter had put forth that hypothesis since his own wife had been the real target of a “home invasion gone wrong” years ago.
“If someone wanted it to appear as though you took both shots, the second shooter couldn’t have been positioned too far away from you,” Carter said, leaning back in his chair, eyes set on Jesse.
“I didn’t have time to sweep the area for the second shooter. I had to get out of there before Zoran’s security pinned me down,” Jesse said, feeling the need to explain why he hadn’t searched for the hidden sniper.
“That also means the second shooter may have seen you, even if you didn’t see him,” Oliver noted.
“Or her,” Sydney said.
Jesse peered at Sydney, wondering how many people she’d taken out over the years when she’d served in the Army prior to joining her father’s business.
Sydney had proved rather lethal with the bow and arrow, not exactly a method used in Iraq, so there was . . . that.
“Or there was someone from Bulgarian Intelligence out there that day to put eyes on you,” Carter added, which had been an idea Jesse and A.J. had floated that morning. A potential traitor who may have or might eventually leak Jesse’s name to Zoran.
“I needed a clean line of sight to take the shot, so my face wasn’t masked for the hit,” Jesse told his team, revealing why he had concerns Zoran might be able to discover his identity.
“I think we need to look at the hit from another angle as Carter’s suggesting.” A.J. circled the table and stood alongside Jesse, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle.
“We may be dealing with someone out there who doesn’t want the truth coming out about a second shooter or the fact they most likely tipped off Zoran.” Jack shifted on his stool and faced A.J. “Two problems to tackle: whoever sent the second shooter for the wife and Zoran’s revenge.”
More danger for Ella. Jesse turned to the wall and set his balled hands against it, trying not to drive both fists through it in front of his team.
“I’m surprised your boss didn’t raise that point,” Gray said, a subtle hint that maybe Thatcher wasn’t to be trusted.
“Thatcher wants me back, not dead.” Jesse shook his head. “I trust him.”
“Sometimes, we give our trust to the wrong people. People we’d never think would betray us,” A.J. said, and Jesse whirled to face his friend, feeling a bit gutted by the comment. A.J. held up a hand. “That wasn’t a dig at you, Jesse.”
“If Thatcher didn’t bring up a second threat, it’s because he doesn’t believe there to be one,” Jesse added, turning away from his best friend to focus on his new bosses.
“Well, I’m not ruling out the idea of two potential problems.” Carter’s penetrating dark eyes landed on Jesse. The man was a shrewd motherfucker, and not a big fan of the Agency. He was likely wondering which side Jesse’s loyalties lay—Thatcher or Falcon—but there was no question in Jesse’s mind that he was done with the Agency.