Singed (18 page)

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Authors: Kaylea Cross

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Singed
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“You hungry?” Claire asked her, needing a distraction from her thoughts.

“I could eat.” Zahra eyed the fridge dubiously. “Think they’ve got anything decent here?”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Claire got up to rummage through it. At first all she saw was beer, and plenty of it. She shook her head. As far as she knew the only guy in the house who could cook was Gage, and he was busy in the front room with Hunter, Ellis and Dunphy.

Considering the details of the recent threat, they were all way too paranoid to order something for delivery. That left either cooking or someone making a run to a takeout place, and Claire didn’t mind fixing something for everyone if she could find some actual food to work with. It would give her something else to think about besides Danny and the TTP for a little while.

After pulling some chicken and veggies out of the bottom drawer in the fridge, she got busy chopping while Zahra hunted for something to flavor it with.

“All we’ve got is ketchup and vinegar,” Zahra said sadly, placing the bottles on the counter next to the stove.

“They’re such guys,” Claire muttered. “Just find me some salt and pepper and we’ll make do with that.” She did a quick stir fry and tossed in some cooked pasta to fill everyone up. Zahra helped her plate everything and they took it to the guys. The men looked up at them as they entered. Gage’s intense blue gaze raked over her in a lazy, appreciative sweep, a warm smile lighting his eyes. Her skin tingled in reaction as though he’d physically touched her.

“It’s not fancy, but it’s better than nothing,” she told them, placing plates in front of him and Hunter.

Dunphy—Sean—half turned in his seat to smile at Zahra as she approached. “Hey, thanks.”

Zahra plunked his plate down with an irritated frown and didn’t look at him. “Whatever, I didn’t make it, Claire did. And don’t get used to this. Just because I’m a brown girl doesn’t mean I like running around serving you guys food.”

“Okay, I take back my thanks. How about a plain old fuck you instead?” He picked up his fork and scooped a bite into his mouth, smiling at her as he chewed.

Surprisingly, Zahra laughed. “Just so we’re clear,” she added, smirking.

“We’re clear. I promise to never expect any more hand delivered meals from you.”

“Good.” Aiming a grin at Claire, she tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and sauntered back into the kitchen.

“Well, on that pleasant note,” Claire said dryly, “I’m gonna go eat with her since she seems to prefer my company to yours.”

“Thanks,” Gage and Hunter said in unison, already shoveling food into their mouths.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled at Gage and fought back a pang of longing, wondering when they’d get the chance to continue their discussion. Maybe later tonight after everyone turned in for the night. Once she and Gage were lying in a sweaty, tangled mess in their bed. The man was addictive and sexual chemistry aside, she appreciated having him with her through all of this.

Seating herself at the kitchen table, she raised an eyebrow at Zahra, who studiously ignored her as she forked up a bite of her lunch and shoved it in her mouth. Claire cleared her throat for emphasis.

Zahra’s eyes darted up to hers, expression all innocent. “What?” she demanded around a mouthful of noodles.

“Exactly,” Claire countered. “You got something going on with Dunphy that I don’t know about?”

She snorted and forked up some veggies. “He wishes.”

Okay
then. Claire hid a smile, enjoying the opportunity to rib Zahra and glad to be talking about something so normal for once. “Just checking, because I seem to recall you saying something about swearing off men for cats for the next six months. Of course this just means I like you even more.”

Zahra paused and gave her that cool look Claire had no trouble seeing through now. “What are you talking about?”

Claire knew her co-worker wasn’t used to dealing with military types, except for Alex. “I love a woman with a backbone, and trust me, you’ll need it to deal with these Titanium guys. That type of alpha male, they have a way of wearing you down after a while. You gotta stay strong.” She said it tongue-in-cheek, having just seen the spark between Zahra and Dunphy for herself.

“Oh, don’t worry, my spine has no problem telling them where to go and what they can do with themselves once they get there.”

Grinning, Claire stabbed a piece of red pepper with her fork. “Glad to hear that.” Sounded like she was going to keep Dunphy on his toes while they worked together, that was for sure.

They were rinsing off their plates in the sink when the man in question strolled into the kitchen carrying a stack of his own. “See, I brought the dishes in here myself, rather than expecting you to come back and get them,” he said to Zahra, black eyes dancing with mischief. “Check me out, all domesticated twenty-first century guy and shit.”

“Great, you can do ours as well then,” she replied sweetly, stepping aside. She passed Claire on the way back to the table, a smug grin on her face. With a grudging chuckle, Dunphy got busy rinsing the plates then loaded them into the dishwasher while Claire watched in approval.

“I really like her style,” she said to him, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, she’s got a certain something, doesn’t she?” he murmured, watching Zahra start her laptop back up as he closed the dishwasher door. He opened his mouth to say something else, no doubt another smart ass remark, when someone’s cell phone started ringing in the front room. Dunphy’s was next. Then another. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, Zahra’s went off too.

“Is he calling us in?” Claire asked, assuming it must be Alex. Her own phone was in her purse, over by the front door. Nestled beside the Beretta from her nightstand that Gage had insisted she carry with her from now on. She might not have any law enforcement training or field experience, but a woman wouldn’t grow up in a house with two commandos and not know how to fire a weapon properly. Though it’d been a while since she’d gone to the range, she was pretty sure she could still hit whatever she aimed at.

“Looks like,” Dunphy answered, reading whatever text message had come through.

Footsteps sounded on the tile floor, then Gage stepped into the kitchen. Though someone else might not have noticed the subtle tension in him, with one look at his face Claire knew something was wrong.

“Alex just called us all in for a meeting. Wants us in the boardroom ASAP,” he said.

Her heart thudded at the grim set to his eyes and mouth. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll see when we get there.”

Bullshit. He knew something. He and Hunter both. Did it have to do with her? Had they just found out something about the attack? Zahra was already gathering up her stuff. “Gage, tell me what—”

“Let’s go, Claire. Grab your stuff and get in the truck.” He turned and walked out without another word. Swearing to herself, she snagged her laptop, hurried to the front door to get her purse, and pulled out her cell phone. She found nothing but the text from Alex, telling them to come in. But she was sure she hadn’t misread that look on Gage’s face. Had he received a different message than the rest of them? Otherwise Hunter must have said something to him.

Stewing in silence, her trepidation growing by the second, she walked out the front door behind Zahra and climbed into the back of the idling SUV Gage was driving. Whatever was going on, she’d find out soon enough.

 

****

 

Just his luck that the clouds decided to open up as he drove back to the house in the new vehicle he’d borrowed, a silver minivan as inconspicuous as any he could find for this neighborhood. He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw the empty driveway, and his heart rate quickened. Parking at the curb out front, he took a look around to make sure no one was watching him. He grabbed his backpack full of tools from the passenger seat, tugged on his thin leather gloves and walked up the driveway.

The house was dark except for the light on in the foyer that he could see shining through the side panel windows on either side of the front door. Once he was sure he wasn’t walking into a trap, the first thing he had to do was pick the lock and disable the alarm system. Until he got inside he couldn’t tell for sure what he was up against, and there was always a chance someone was still at home but his time was running out and that called for taking drastic risks. At his back, the muzzle of the weapon there dug into his skin, ready if he needed it.

Stealing one last glance around to ensure he hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention outside, he tried to look as innocuous as possible as he took out his tools and picked the deadbolt. The lock slid free. Considering his target, he was shocked and a little disappointed by that. This was the point of no return. Mo took a deep, calming breath and cracked the door open. A high-pitched beeping filled the air. No going back now. He shut the door and popped the keypad off the wall, well aware that he had under a minute to disable the system. Sweat broke out on his upper lip as he took out his special pliers and clamped the wires. Another piece of electronic equipment he’d used during his tenure with ADT and a few adjustments later, the beeping stopped. Mo stood absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe as he waited. Was there a backup system he’d missed? Ten seconds passed. Twenty. When the full minute came and went without any sirens going off, he let out a sigh of relief.

Leaving everything in place, he picked up his backpack and checked the lower floor for the utility room. He found a door that opened to a small space with the hot water heater and built-in vacuum system. A flick of a switch and his flashlight illuminated the darkness beyond the vacuum where a kind of trap door was cut into the floor.

Bingo.

Placing the flashlight between his teeth, he slung his pack onto his back and lifted the trap door, exposing the short wooden ladder that extended into the crawlspace. He climbed down it.

The low ceiling was covered in cobwebs, and from their undisturbed state it looked as though no one had been down here in a while. Following the humming sound, he squeezed his way through some of the wooden support struts stabilizing the first floor and found the furnace. A fairly new model, and he knew exactly what to do with it thanks to his former occupation as a gas fitter.

A rush of excitement filled his veins as he took the pack off and emptied out the tools he needed. He made short work of the required tasks and double checked everything before climbing back out of the crawlspace and shutting the trap door behind him. Pausing inside the utility room door, he listened for any hint of sound or movement. Blessed silence greeted him. Without wasting another second he crossed to the front door. He carefully put the keypad back in place, reset the system and closed the front door behind him. He used his tool to lock it again and walked back to the minivan, relief and anticipation flooding him.

Keys in hand, he tucked a small remote into his jeans pocket and hit the unlock button on the keyfob. When he was halfway to the van a vehicle pulled into the driveway next door. Mo recognized the nosy neighbor from the other day and mentally cursed. She was watching him, put on a polite smile when she caught him looking at her.

Returning it, he smoothly walked to the end of the driveway and collected the bags of grass clippings someone had left there, and loaded them into the back of the van. It took care of the nosy neighbor, but he was worried his target might notice the missing bags and be suspicious when they got home. For this to work, he needed them to be completely unaware that anything had been tampered with. Thankfully the neighbor paid him no more attention whatsoever and he slipped behind the wheel with a grateful sigh.

Mo steered away from the curb and circled the block once to ensure no one was following him, then stopped a few hundred yards south of the house and shut off the engine. From here he could still see the house and know the moment his target arrived home, but he was far enough away to afford him the seconds he’d need to escape unnoticed after he made the hit.

Hunkering down in his seat with his ball cap pulled low over his forehead, he settled in to wait for the target to return so he could finish this.

 

Chapter Eleven

They all made it through the meeting without falling asleep, though Claire looked ready to pitch face first onto the boardroom table at any moment. Gage shifted and leaned back farther into his seat, trying to mask his annoyance for her sake.

The meeting he’d thought would be so pivotal to this entire investigation had unfortunately turned out to be a total fucking waste of everyone’s time. Acting on an anonymous tip that had precipitated Alex’s previous meeting with all the agency higher-ups in the first place, the FBI team on scene had reported that the man they’d found was not Mostaffa.

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