Explosive Encounter (Task Force 779 Book 2) Page 12

  After passing through the security, I take a deep breath and prepare for the worst. The short elevator ride from the parking garage to the first floor takes seconds. The bell chimes and the door opens, revealing Nix and Weston, arms crossed and looking ready to breathe fire.

  “You know the saying, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?” West growls.

  “Yeah.” I already know where he’s going with it.

  “Well, you broke what was fixed, man. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “She’s been sick. Like over the toilet, vomiting every fucking day. All because of me. She doesn’t deserve that after everything she’s been through. I can’t be the cause of her constant agony.”

  I push past them, already feeling my blood boil with rage as I hit the shooting range. I don’t want to fight with them.

  “You’re ruining a good fucking thing, Chaos,” Nix comments as I turn my back on two of my best friends.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I growl as I grab my Berretta and begin to clean it like I didn’t do it just last week.

  Everett

  Two pink lines mean…?

  It has to be wrong. This can’t be right.

  “You gotta remember to breathe, Evie.” I hear Lola’s voice in the distance, but nothing is focusing for me right now.

  “In and out,” Codie reiterates.

  “Huh?” I look up to my new friends, and they have these shocked smiles on their faces. But happiness radiates in their eyes.

  They’re happy.

  For me.

  While I’m confused.

  Shocked.

  Upset? Am I upset?

  I don’t even know. I have no idea what I am. How I feel.

  How to feel.

  Lola grabs the Clearblue test I took off the counter—it’s supposed to say how many possible weeks I am—while I continue to stare at the pink lines from the other one.

  “Soooo, do you want to know how far along you are?” She’s practically dancing in place as she shows it to Codie.

  “No,” I snap. Their faces fall. “Yes,” I amend. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, woman! You’re already acting pregnant with your indecision.” Lola rolls her eyes.

  “Fine. Tell me.” I close my eyelids and place my head on my knees.

  “Three to four weeks. When were you in D.C.?”

  I groan, undecided whether to be grateful it’s Foster's or not. “Around that time.”

  “That’s great then! Foster is your baby daddy.” Lola jumps up and down, and the rapid motion makes me queasy again.

  “You’re making her sick.” Codie elbows Lola’s arm as I reach for the toilet—my apparent new best friend—and lose the little bit of tea I managed to drink down.

  “I’m just gonna go get, Foster. He should be here.” Lola is gone before I can object. I’m not ready to tell him. I don’t even know what I’m going to do yet.

  “I’ll stop her. You tell him when you’re ready and not a minute before.” Codie rubs my hair back from my sweaty face before she leaves.

  “Thanks, Codie,” I mumble into the bowl.

  Codie

  Closing the door behind me, I lean against it for a beat, taking a few deep breaths. Pregnancies terrify me. Seeing my friend so sick makes me a little sad and worried for her. I suspected her predicament a couple of days ago, but I didn’t want to say anything. I was going to bring it up, but then Lola showed up, and well, things spiraled.

  “What does that mean?” Lola’s voice raises to a higher pitch when she’s angry, and right now, I’d say she’s fuming, so I rush downstairs and see Ryder backed into the patio doors off the kitchen with his hands raised in the air.

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I tried to stop him.”

  “Stop who?” I ask as I look around and don’t see Foster.

  I watch Ryder sigh, and I can tell he’s not going to say anything I’ll like hearing. “Foster thinks Everett being sick is his fault, so he’s putting distance between them because he doesn’t want her traumatized because she can’t handle when we leave.”

  “You’re damn right it’s his fault,” Lola growls as she drops into a chair at the table.

  “He left?” I say, not at all looking for an answer. “She’s alone. Again.”

  “Dove.” Ryder’s voice is soothing as he walks closer.

  “I’ll kill him,” I hiss. So many memories come rushing back, and hot tears begin to spill over my cheeks as Ryder wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into his powerful body.

  “Why are you so upset, dove?” I want to tell him, he would understand, but it’s not my secret to reveal, and I don’t think I can form the proper words for it right now.

  “I don’t know.” I lie instead. “It’s just not fair. He pursued her. Every time she pushed, he pulled, and now he thinks he can run?” Not if I have anything to say about it. “I’ll shoot him in the ass myself.”

  “Who are we shooting?” We all turn to see Everett standing with a hand on her stomach. God, this is going to kill her.

  15

  Everett

  Running away isn’t just for kids, is it?

  Staring at the plate in front of me, I don’t even see it. My vision is blurred due to the constant stream of tears.

  He left me. He doesn’t know about the baby. At least, I know that’s not why he left.

  I can’t even be angry because I begged him to leave me alone for so long. But I believed him. All the promises, everything he said. I accepted it all as truth because it came from him. Foster was the only light in my dark world, and now I have nothing.

  You have a baby. Without a father.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  “Everett?” Ryder’s voice is calm, deep. Full of pity, and he doesn’t even know what’s really happening. “I have something else to tell you about your mother.”

  “I don’t care. None of it really matters, anyways.” I stand up so quickly my chair falls to the ground, and I rush upstairs.

  “Everett, wait!” Codie calls, but I ignore her. I don’t want comforting. I don’t want pity. I want to build my walls and be left alone.

  My past no longer matters. Van, Jessica, the lies and secrets, nothing matters now. I need to leave. Get away from his friends.

  Tossing my belongings into my overnight bag, I head downstairs. I have no idea where I’ll go or how I’ll get there, but I must leave. I need to think about what my next move is going to be.

  “Where are you going?” Codie asks as she rushes to me.

  “You can’t leave, Everett,” Ryder demands.

  “Yes, I can,” I argue. “I have to.”

  “Christ.” Ryder runs a rough hand down his face before speaking again. “Foster made arrangements before he left. Someone is coming to get you now and take you to a safe house until we’re sure the Diablos Cartel isn’t going to a problem for you. After that, you can do as you please. Hell, I’ll even help set you up somewhere else if that’s what you want, but you can’t leave.”

  Before I can respond, a loud knock startles me, and I drop my bag. Ryder picks it up on his way to the door. As he opens it, I take a step back from the extremely large man entering the house.

  “Tac,” he growls, sounding angry. “Where the hell is Chaos?”

  “Chickenshit ran away,” Lola supplies from the kitchen.

  “Codie, Everett, this is Ares. He’s your protection detail, Ev.” Ryder introduces us, and Ares glares at everyone in the room. He looks perpetually pissed off.

  “I didn’t agree to this,” I try to argue.

  “That hers?” The guys ignore me as Ryder passes him my bag. “Let’s go,” he demands and walks back out.

  “Please go with him, Everett. I swear on my life he will keep you safe until we can figure this out,” Ryder begs, and his damn eyes get to me.

  “Fine. But I’m not coming back. When this is over, I want a fresh start.”

&n
bsp; “You’ll get it,” Ryder promises. I hesitate to believe him because, apparently, I have horrible taste in men.

  Codie pulls me in for a hug and whispers in my ear, “I swear I’ll be sure he makes this right, Everett. You deserve so much happiness.”

  “You can’t tell him about the baby.” I make her promise.

  “I won’t so long as I know you’re always safe. You text me or call, keep up with me, Ev. You’re my friend, too.” I nod because my throat constricts, and it makes talking hard to do.

  With a slow wave, I walk out the door to Ares waiting by his massive truck that I know I’m going to have a problem getting into it. I hear him chuckle as I struggle, and I can practically feel his eyeroll as he walks over to help me.

  “Upsy daisy,” he grumbles after giving me a boost. Which was really more like a toss into the seat.

  “Thanks,” I say as I buckle my seatbelt. I watch him round the hood of the truck and give a salute to Ryder as he and Codie watch from the porch. Lola is sitting in the window, glaring. I’m as angry as they are, but I’m not ready to tell Foster, and even if I were, I don’t want to only work things out because of the baby.

  Maybe in the future, we can be friendly enough to try and raise the child together, but right now, my feelings are raw and angry. I don’t even want to see him.

  “Alright, buttercup, one stop to fill the tank and grab some drinks and snacks then we have a long-ass drive ahead of us,” Ares says, and I pay him no mind as he pulls away. Perhaps the long drive will help clear my head. Help me gain some sort of perspective about what the heck I’m going to do.

  Foster

  Misery loves company.

  “The girls are pissed at you,” Ryder says as he walks into the conference room, laptop in his hand, and a coffee in the other.

  “Yeah.” I knew they would be. Girls bond quickly, and it seems those three became the Three Stooges while we were gone.

  “What girls?” Nix asks.

  “Code and Lol,” I say. Theo perks up.

  “Lola’s here? I’m gonna kick her ass,” Nix mutters. They have an odd brother/sister relationship. There are almost twenty years between them, and Nix practically raised the girl from around her eighth birthday. Nobody knows what happened to their parents, neither will say a word, but they’re normally thick as thieves.

  “Came over last night, I guess. There were margaritas involved.” Ryder laughs. He must have gotten an earful from Codie when we got in last night.

  “She’s been avoiding me for a week,” Nix growls and pulls out his phone.

  “Moving on,” Ryder says as he opens the laptop. “I tried to tell Everett this morning, but she wanted nothing to do with it.” He levels me with a nasty glare. “It seems Van Gaines had an undercover operative named Kevin Stapleton back in '96/'97 that was KIA over in Sierra Leone during the war. He was a negotiator between some rebels and the army.”

  “How’d he die?” Weston asks.

  “Assassinated.” That single word always sends a chill down my spine. When there’s an assassination, there’s usually a coverup. “Van was his handler. I’ve still got to listen to the transcripts of the time Stapleton was assigned there.”

  “Did he know about Everett?” I ask. I don’t know a single man alive who would endanger his life when his wife was bringing a child into the world.

  “I think the only way we’ll find that out is if we speak to Jessica Gaines, whose real name is Jasmine Cooper.” I’m not surprised Jessica wasn’t her real name.

  “Bring her in,” Nix orders.

  “On it,” Theo says as he pulls his phone from his pocket. She’ll be here tomorrow morning.

  “Any idea if the agents undercover in Mexico are still intact?” I look up to Ryder as he types.

  “As far as I can tell, their identities are still a secret. However, I doubt it will be long before Drift has the names and is handing them over.”

  “Do they have families?” Nix inquires, and I can see the wheels turning in his head.

  “None listed.”

  “I’ll call Asher and have them removed from the field. Get a location on Drift. We’re going after him while we wait on the mother to arrive.” Nix walks away as he presses his phone to his ear.

  The sounds of Ryder tapping on the keyboard are the only sounds in the room, and while I want to ask how upset Everett was when she saw that I was gone, I also don’t want the answer.

  “Did she eat before Ares got there?” Guess I’m a masochist.

  “Nope.” Ry’s answer is short.

  “Was she mad?”

  “She was pretty neutral. Girl's got a solid mask.” He still won’t look at me.

  “Do you think–"

  “Dude, call Codie and ask her. Something is wrong with Everett. She and Lol aren’t saying a word, either. It’s something more than just worry that made Ev sick, but I haven’t a clue what.” The bite to his tone suggests his own anger at me.

  Not that I blame him. I fucked up. I hurt Everett when she was already raw, and now, I’m paying the price.

  So is she. My conscience taunts.

  I stare at my phone, debating a call to Codie when Ryder whistles and waves his hand for Nix to come over. He’s found Max Drift. And if I had to guess from the determination on his face, the bastard is trying to run.

  “What have you got?” Nix asks, coming over and putting his phone on speaker. “You’re on speaker, Asher.”

  “You got him, Tac?” Asher’s voice echoes.

  “I’ve frozen all his assets, even the ones he thinks are hidden—idiot. He’s got a flight booked at Dulles International, leaving in two hours to Nepal.”

  “No extradition,” Asher groans. “I’ll have a team there in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ve already called security. An old Navy buddy works there now. He’s going to grab him as soon as he hits security.” Ryder grins.

  “Did you get those agents out?” Weston probes.

  “Men are on their way to extract them now. They’ll be back on home soil in less than twelve hours.” Thank fuck for that.

  “Anything confirming the Diablos are still after Everett?” I have to know if she’s going to be safe.

  “Not yet. As far as I’ve heard, there’s still an open hit on her. I hate to say it, but she might have to die.” Asher sounds remorseful.

  “You want her to enter WITSEC?” No way. I can’t keep track of her if she’s in witness protection. I can’t try and make things right with her.

  FUCK!

  Why am I always fucking up with her? I can’t fucking win, and I have no one to blame but my own damn self.

  Everett

  Road trips suck.

  “Seriously?” Ares groans. I guess the baby doesn’t enjoy long drives because we’re pulling over for the sixth time in as many hours. “Jesus Christ, woman.”

  “Cursing doesn’t help,” I reply as I bail out of the truck and hit the pavement on my knees. The few crackers I was able to eat and the water I drank are coming up faster than they went down.

  My mind swirls with the emotions playing with my heart. I’m sad and confused. Angry and hurt. Perplexed and lonely. I don’t know what I’m going to do. How I’m going to take care of us.

  I don’t know when it happened, but I've made the decision to keep this baby. He or she was made during a time when I felt like I meant the world to someone, and I can’t extinguish that kind of light from my life.

  The ground below begins to spin, and I know I won’t be getting up on my own again. I hate to do this, but, “Ares?” I need to learn his real name. “Could I get a hand please?”

  “Fuck sakes, woman.” He’s so brutal. I don’t know how Foster or Ryder thought he could or would want to keep me safe. I can hear him muttering under his breath as he walks around towards me.

  “What is your deal, anyway? You always get car sick?” He grips my shoulders and hauls me to my feet.

  “Never,” I tell him.

  “The
n what? Are you pregnant?” He laughs, and I whip my head around to stare at him, causing my stomach to do a flip as his jaw drops. “Son of a bitch, you are, aren’t you?” I don’t get to say anything because I’m bending back over—barely missing our feet—and vomiting again. “I’m going to fucking kill Chaos for sticking me with his pregnant woman.”

  “I’m not his woman!” Not anymore. Never again.

  “The hell you aren’t. You’re having his baby. It is his, right?” I nod. “Then that makes you his. He won’t let you go for anything.” That’s what I’m afraid of.

  “You can’t tell him,” I demand as he puts me back in my seat. Ares just smirks as he goes back to his side. “You have to promise you won’t tell him.” I’m not above begging to get what I want. Even with this man who I suspect would use it against me if it furthered his own agenda.

  “Oh, I’m not going to tell him,” he says as he makes a call. The Bluetooth in the truck begins to ring, and when another man answers, I’m relieved it’s not Foster’s voice.

  “What? You’ve barely had her a day; don’t tell me you lost her already.” The man is laughing a bit but also sounds serious.

  “Not yet. But she’s got one hell of a surprise for your boy. The girl is pregnant, and dickhead doesn’t know.” Silence is our only answer, and I groan.

  “You can’t tell him,” I blurt out. I hate sounding like a broken record.

  “How far along?” the man asks.

  “Umm, less than a month,” I answer.

  “You keeping it, or do you need a clinic?”

  My jaw opens and closes at the brazenness of his question. “Keeping it.” I finally find my voice.

  “Ares, are you still headed to Myrtle Beach?” So that’s where we’re going. Gigantor wouldn’t tell me.

  “Yeah. We’re behind, though, because someone is car sick every hour or so.” I get a nasty look with a little less heat than the last time we stopped.