How many times had he been on the verge of losing himself, giving in to the darkness, giving up the fight to keep his head above the pit of quicksand that threatened to pull him under?
How many times did I think about . . .? But whenever he felt that pull, an image of Ella materialized as a lifeline and dragged him out. Hell, she’d been his saving grace before, during, and after his time in the Army.
His heart climbed into his throat at the idea of her becoming collateral damage because of his life choices. Because of his mistake that day in Bulgaria with Zoran.
Jesse let his dark thoughts go when the image of Ella standing next to that wedding dress in her studio planted roots in his head, saving him yet again.
The wedding.
Three more hours until the party, until their marriage.
He hadn’t talked to Ella since she left his room after their kiss fifteen hours ago. She and Savanna, under Griffin’s watchful eye, had gone back to Ella’s house so she could pack for Paris, and then there were the wedding preparations to see to. Every time she’d crossed paths with Jesse, she’d either cut her attention to the floor or the sky, anything to avoid eye contact.
It was probably best if they stayed away from each other until the “wedding” anyway. He wasn’t sure what to say to her after he’d nearly ravaged her like a wild animal following that kiss.
That kiss.
A kiss that he didn’t know how to describe. How does one put into words the way a kiss like that felt other than it was the closest to Heaven he’d probably ever get.
Because he was trouble, wasn’t he? At least, that was his dad’s opinion of him growing up.
Screwup. A fuckup. That’s all he is. All he’ll ever be. Memories of his dad’s scathing words latched hold of his thoughts. Those roots had been allowed to grow for too fucking long.
Jesse had struggled to see himself differently, even with all the praise he’d received from his commanders in the Army as a Ranger. The chest candy and the accolades. None of it had erased the feeling he’d kept locked inside that there was something wrong with him. But he was trying to shake the thoughts now.
And apparently, Rory was only now . . . remembering.
She’s seeing a therapist? He was all for people getting help, but he really did wish his sister hadn’t opened Pandora’s box, revealing the parts of their childhood she’d previously blocked. Not that their father had treated her as anything other than the apple of his eye.
“Not sure if I’ll ever deserve you,” Jesse whispered as he focused back on the open ring box that held Ella’s engagement ring and wedding band. But God, do I want you. “Need you,” he added under his breath, shocked to find tears in his eyes when he looked up at himself in the mirror.
When he’d gone into Birmingham a few hours ago for the rings and a haircut, Jack had insisted on having his six. Not that Jesse felt he needed protection, but Jack had hopped into his truck like a stubborn dog that refused to leave his side. Then Jack asked the million-dollar question on their drive back home. Why aren’t you and Ella together for real?
Jesse had peddled some bullshit response, worried if he told Jack the truth, he might hot-foot it straight to Carter and Gray and demand Jesse be booted from the team. But being an operator was the only thing he seemed to be good at. That was why Thatcher wanted him back, wasn’t it?
And how fucked up is it that I’m not a screwup when it comes to killing? Well, aside from Zoran. I didn’t handle business then, and now Ella might be in danger.
“Jesse? We have news.”
Carter’s voice outside his door had him shutting the ring boxes and shaking his head, trying to pull himself together. “Coming.”
Once in the kitchen, he was surprised to see Rory talking to Sydney, some kind of electronic device he didn’t recognize in Rory’s palm.
The rest of his team were absent aside from Carter and Sydney, most likely preparing security measures at the Hawkins Ranch for the party.
“What’s going on?” Jesse circled the kitchen island to move closer to his sister, and she pivoted his way.
“We managed to locate Zoran’s right-hand man, Aleksa Stanković, who’s been running the criminal enterprise in Zoran’s absence,” Carter explained.
Jesse gritted his teeth for a minute. Cut the head off a snake only to have another one pop up. Sounds about right, damn it. “Where is he? Do you think he may know Zoran’s whereabouts? In communication with him?” he rattled off his thoughts.
Rory handed whatever she was holding to Sydney and faced him. He still didn’t know why his sister was part of this conversation, and he was getting the feeling he didn’t want to know.
He’d only recently learned Rory and Carter had sort of worked together during her adventurous days. It was still mind-blowing to think his sister had been single-handedly taking down wildlife traffickers when he, as well as everyone else, thought that she was merely chasing treasure in the deep blue sea.
“No answers to any of those questions yet aside from the location,” Carter responded. “Aleksa’s at a compound in Tirana, Albania.”
“I’m assuming Aleksa left Bulgaria as soon as Zoran was shot. Protect himself and keep the illegal operations going.” Sydney tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.
“Aleksa didn’t have a post at the embassy like Zoran, right?” Jesse asked her.
Sydney quickly checked something on her laptop. “No, Aleksa has no known connections to the embassy.” She focused back on Jesse. “And as far as we can tell, he was an associate of Zoran’s in Serbia before Zoran took the post of minister counselor for the Serbian Embassy in Bulgaria. They used the cover of their legitimate business holdings to conceal their illegal activities for decades.”
“Things started to get more intense in the last few years. Bodies started piling up. The Bulgarians could no longer ignore what was going on,” Carter explained.
From what little Jesse had been told by Thatcher, Zoran’s temper when dealing with his enemies often resulted in their remains being hard to identify. He couldn’t begin to imagine . . .
Ella. Fuck. No, he wouldn’t let that prick near her. No matter what.
Jesse did his best to pull his thoughts from that dangerously dark place in his mind to focus on how to get to Zoran before he got to them. “Why wouldn’t the Bulgarians just revoke Zoran’s diplomatic immunity?” he asked a few heartbeats later, his head back in the game. “Kick him out of the country?”
Carter folded his arms and gave him a contemplative look. He’d been an officer with the CIA, so he knew more about the nitty-gritty inner workings of the Agency than Jesse. Jesse’s job description was basically: point and shoot. Don’t miss.
“Truth?” Carter began. “They either tried to flip Zoran to spy on Serbia in exchange for continued immunity, and he rejected them. Or the Serbians didn’t want Zoran back once he lost his status, and they agreed to look the other way if Zoran were to go missing or die.”
“So, the Bulgarians cut a deal with the CIA instead and kept their hands clean,” Sydney commented, her gaze flicking to Carter briefly.
“Except the Bulgarians did get blood on their hands. Killed the wife.” An image of Zoran’s wife taking a shot to the head that day flashed to mind and had Jesse setting a hand to his stomach. “We, um, still don’t know why they wanted her dead.”