“We were using Aleksa, hoping to track Zoran before he got to us.” Sydney handed her laptop to Carter, which showcased the live aerial view of the bed-and-breakfast from the Agency’s drone feed. “If we can find Zoran, maybe we can find The Chechen before he finds us.”
“Zoran’s not the HVT, but he needs to be taken down,” Thatcher commented. “He does know Jesse’s name, which means he knows Ella’s.”
“Who leaked my name? Was that part of your fucking plan too?” He needed to punch or shoot someone, damn it.
Ella was on her feet now, face still lacking a bit of its normal color, but she strode his way as if sensing he was an animal in the wild, feeling threatened, and he might bolt. Or bite.
Hell, she was right.
And when she stood by him, stroking his arm, she managed to calm him down when he should have been the one helping her.
She remained steady even when Thatcher said, “We had no choice. We needed Zoran to know your name so that the plan would work with The Chechen. Your name was leaked to someone at Bulgarian Intelligence we believed would share the intel with Zoran for the right price.”
If Thatcher was in front of him right now, so help the man . . .
“Why the wife?” Sydney asked, saving Thatcher from a tongue lashing from Jesse. “You know everything about everything, which means you know why Zoran’s wife was murdered in the first place.”
“Why does that matter?” Thatcher replied. Why the hell was he keeping that a secret?
“It matters because, in part, Ella and Jesse are in this situation because Zoran’s wife died,” Sydney answered, the confidence in her tone causing Gray to look her way.
“Well, we can’t bring her back to life, and that information won’t help you. I need you to focus on The Chechen. The DGSE are now taking point on Aleksa’s operation, and if you want us to continue to share that drone feed with you, I suggest you not push back on this.” Thatcher was quiet for a moment, and Jesse looked around the room, not sure what to do. Thatcher now had them by the balls.
“If you change your mind, and you’d like me to pay you a visit, you know how to reach me. And, Jesse, for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. But the necessary evils of the job—”
Carter ended the call, cutting him off, and Jesse was grateful. He couldn’t tolerate any more bullshit from that man, just as he’d never accepted the meaningless apologies from his father over the years.
Some apologies were just too late.
Chapter Twenty-One
“All the flights tonight are fucking booked,” Gray said while striding into the room alongside Jesse.
After Carter had unceremoniously ended the call with Thatcher ten minutes ago, Jesse had disappeared from the living room, presumably for a change of clothes. His shirt had been damp from their shower kiss, but he’d been too anxious to get on the call that he hadn’t swapped it for a dry one.
She was grateful he’d returned in jeans and a plaid button-down. She hadn’t wanted to admit to him that the dried blood on his clothes had been doing a number on her stomach, tossing what little contents were in there every which way like she was on one of those God-awful carnival tilt-a-whirl rides Beckett’s daughter, McKenna, loved. Worst of all, though, was the gruesome vision of him slitting those men’s throats at Henry’s estate. That might stay with her forever.
Ella quickly shook the thoughts from her mind and replaced them with a different memory, one she never wanted to forget—his confession that in the three years since their weekend in New York, he hadn’t so much as touched another woman. After which, he’d kissed her like she’d always belonged to him.
“Wait, what?” Ella blinked, realizing she’d lost her focus.
Gray remained standing by Jesse, hands diving into his pockets. “My guys in California can’t get a flight to Alabama until the morning.”
“That’s still quicker than if I send some of my people.” Carter looked up from his laptop and checked his watch. “The Chechen only confirmed tonight at Rochella’s that I’m actually here.”
“And what does that mean?” Ella asked.
“If The Chechen decides to send a team to Alabama as leverage to try and force me out into the open . . . Gray’s guys should get there before any of The Chechen’s men do.” Carter leaned back in his chair by the table covered in tech and slipped his big hands into his dress slacks’ pockets
Leverage? Part of her wished she hadn’t heard that. “So, your guys will help protect my family?” Not that Beckett and the others couldn’t hold their own. Shep, Caleb, and the ranch hands were pretty damn good with a gun, but as far as Ella knew, they’d never killed anyone. And A.J. may have been like Rambo in her mind, but he had his wife and baby to watch over as well, which would complicate things.
Gray moved in front of Carter, and stood near Jesse. “I could only get five guys on such short notice, but hopefully that’s enough.”
Hopefully? Yeah, not the word she wanted to hear when it came to the safety of those she loved.
“I could send more guys, but by the time they got there . . .” Carter let his words drift free, and Ella angled her head to look around Gray to see Carter shaking his head. “Plus, we may need the help here if we’re going to face off with The Chechen.”
“A.J.’s going to drive his wife and baby to D.C. to keep them safe. He’ll take a flight back tomorrow so he can focus without distractions,” Jesse noted, his tone dark and deep.
A distraction. Like Ella had been for Jesse. And would she be a distraction once again as he faced going up against both Zoran and The Chechen?
“I’m sorry, Ella.” Gray stroked his jaw, eyes moving to the floor. “I would’ve sent guys to Bama sooner if I had known about The Chechen. We didn’t believe Zoran would ever come after your family. The Chechen being involved changes everything.”
Ella thought back to Jesse’s words to Thatcher though. He wouldn’t have let Ella even go to Paris, period, if he’d known about The Chechen. “The only one who should be apologizing is Jesse’s old boss,” she whispered.
Gray quietly tipped his head as if still feeling the need to apologize, and then he joined Carter at the table and reached for a laptop.
When Ella focused back on Jesse, his jaw was locked tight, and their eyes briefly connected before he turned toward the fireplace. His taut back muscles visibly flexed beneath his shirt, and she could tell he was working hard to contain his emotions.
Savanna squeezed Ella’s thigh, offering silent support while they sat like spectators on the couch and observed the living room of the quaint bed-and-breakfast, now transformed into a command center.
The former Army operators began throwing around military acronyms and jargon left and right as they discussed operational plans that went over Ella’s head for the next thirty or so minutes.
“The only time I’ve seen him like this was when you were on one of your dates,” Savanna quietly said, and Ella followed her tipped chin toward Jesse.
Dates? God, October felt like a million years ago when she’d gone on a bunch of dates in one last attempt to get Jesse to finally step forward and demand he be the only one she dated.