Chapter 46

Aaron slipped downstairs in his running gear. As much as he'd worn himself out having "just sex," he couldn't sleep. He'd end up tossing and turning and replaying the words that had seared him like a brand.

He didn't want to think about Hope or how badly he'd let down his team.

He hadn't meant to lash out, and now he was going to have to swallow his pride, grit his teeth and apologize to her for being such an ass. He was the idiot. He knew better, but he'd gone and done it again. Fallen for a woman who didn't actually want him.

Hell, he should be used to it by now.

He was so pissed.

Not at Hope because he'd known she was out of his league from the start. Not only that, he was the one with the job to do. She was the goddamned principal.

Everything he was feeling. Everything in his messed-up head—that was all on him. If this was a test, then he'd failed. Flunked out. F-fucking-minus.

He wasn't used to making errors in judgment or screwing up, but that without a doubt was what he had done ever since he'd walked into this house.

He thrust the spiraling thoughts out of his head. He needed to wear out his body to the point of collapse and then hopefully he could fall unconscious into bed and get some rest.

It wasn't snowing, and the temperature had risen above freezing. He wore layers, and a hat, and strapped his smaller backup SIG Sauer P365 in a specialized holster that fit at the small of his back.

Livingstone was on the front door and eyed him the way a parent eyed a kid who was awake past their bedtime. "What's up?"

"Going for a run."

"You know trying to keep going twenty-four seven is not the best way to manage an op."

"Do you have an issue with how I'm running this op?" Aaron raised up to his full height and stared down at the guy.

"Nope." Shane shook his head and held up his hand in surrender. "Not at all. I…" He swallowed and looked away. "I guess I'm a little overprotective of my friends these days."

Aaron blew out a long breath as the fire went out of him. Squeezed Shane's arm because he knew what the guy was thinking about, and it wasn't this op. "Sorry. I'm on edge with this asshole still being loose. How's Grace? I meant to call her earlier."

"Yael and Pip have been helping her with the kids and the dog." He rubbed his neck. "She has a hospital appointment on Wednesday after Montana's memorial service. I offered to watch the kids, but she wanted me at the hospital instead." He grimaced. "She wants me to be her birthing partner, but I don't know if I can do it."

Aaron swallowed the grief that threatened to choke him. Losing their colleague and friend was bad enough. Knowing he'd left a pregnant wife and young family behind amplified the tragedy by a thousand. "Scotty would want you there."

"I know. Yael said she'd act as support in case I'm not around when Grace goes into labor." Shane ran his hand over his face. To see the usually unflappable operator nervous cut through some of the tension Aaron was carrying. So what if he was hurting. Plenty of other people had it worse, including Grace. Including Hope.

The knowledge he'd reacted poorly sat sourly in his stomach. He'd figure out a way to clear the air in the morning then avoid her as much as possible after that. No more cozy dinners. No more intimate debriefs.

Do the job.

Avoid the humiliation.

"I can watch the kids for Grace on Wednesday afternoon. Assuming the team isn't ordered straight back here."

It would be easier to let the marshals take over Hope's protection, and he knew Gold team might get called out on a more critical mission at any moment. Although nothing was more critical to him than Hope's safety. The thought of never seeing her again burned, despite everything, despite her stabbing out his heart with her cool gray eyes and throwaway words. He'd been blindsided. He wasn't sure how to deal with that. Not to mention, the marshals weren't exactly winning any awards in the aftermath of this prison break.

"Any word from Grady?" Aaron changed the subject.

"Only that thumbs-up message on Monday night when I checked in to see if everything was all right with Brynn. He obviously managed to talk her around after Ryan's epic fuck up."

Aaron froze for a moment when he realized Ryan had spent the day in court with Hope. But there was nothing Ryan could have said to sabotage their non-existent relationship, not when Hope was only looking for a short fling. Aaron wasn't as transparent as Grady Steel when it came to displaying his feelings.

It was Hope who'd ended things before it had truly begun. Her choice. Her decision. Not Cowboy with his overprotective bullshit. Aaron should be grateful to her for doing it now before he'd gotten in too deep.

"I spoke to Romano. Krychek replaced Donnelly after she left last night to go to her father's funeral." Livingstone scowled. "Romano doesn't think Krychek is telling us everything he knows about what went down in Africa."

"Not much he can say if it's classified." Aaron rolled his shoulder. The fact he knew about the Semtex and hadn't told his teammates sat badly with him. Maybe once they were back in Quantico, he'd get some of the guys around and share what Frazer had told him in confidence.

The thought of leaving Hope, of never seeing her again, felt inherently wrong.

He ground his teeth.

He had to get over this.

"I need to get out of here. I'll be an hour at most, but if the idea of me running at night makes you nervous have Griffin shadow me in the Suburban."

"Streets are icy."

"I have grips for the bottom of my runners, Mom"—he dangled the spikes in his hand—"and I have no intention of breaking anything."

He sent a pointed glance at the arm Shane had broken last December.

Shane flexed his bicep. "Good as new."

"Sure, buddy, you keep telling yourself that." Aaron stretched using the stairs while Shane relayed the message to Will Griffin who was in the vehicle tonight. Then Aaron attached the grips to the bottom of his running shoes and headed out into a blast of cold air. He immediately started to sprint down the sidewalk.

It was quiet at this hour in this neighborhood. He found himself heading to the river, having spotted a footbridge from the car earlier. That would prove a challenge for Griffin but as Aaron had his smartwatch and cell on him, it should be a good exercise in tracking him down.

Aaron set a fast pace. No point jogging. No point giving himself time to think or brood. Get over it. He'd been dumped before and at least this one wasn't screwing his brother.

On the other side of the bridge, he crossed the road and started southwest down Causeway. He smiled grimly when the black SUV fell in behind him. Good. He headed south, feeling the incline in his thigh muscles as he passed some tall government buildings. He was headed toward the fancy place Frazer was staying on Mount Vernon Street, but that was only a mile and a half from Hope's. Not far enough to clear the crap clogging his brain. He carried on and found himself on Beacon Street, which ran for miles. He pushed the pace until sweat soaked through his T-shirt then slowed a little.

He wasn't feeling the cold yet, but if he stopped, the sweat would turn to ice on his skin.

He pushed on, past Boston Common and the public gardens. The street was a mix of business and residential with most of the large brownstones having been divided into condos. Not Leech's place though. His was still a glorious mausoleum to an unrepentant killer.

Aaron spotted the vehicle watching the house with an FBI agent inside. Stakeouts were miserable assignments, but Aaron wasn't impressed the guy had the engine running to fight the frigid temperatures.

He continued down the long straight. After five miles, he turned around and began retracing his steps. Back at the Leech place, he deliberately ran past the agent in the vehicle and dammit the man's eyes were closed now. Aaron pulled up short and jogged on the spot.

He glanced at the house. Stared harder. Was that a flicker of light in one of the upstairs rooms?

He saw it again. A flash of something coming from inside Julius Leech's bedroom. He glanced over to where Griffin had stopped nearby. Aaron pulled out his creds and tapped the gold badge on the glass, causing the agent inside to jerk guiltily awake.

The agent wound down the window. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. Shit." He rubbed his eyes.

Aaron stepped back. "Anyone supposed to be in that house?"

The agent looked embarrassed. "No. It was empty after we searched it earlier."

"Well, unless there's a ghost, I'd say it's no longer empty."

The agent climbed out of the car and softly closed the door. "I have a key to the front. I hope it's that sick bastard, Leech."

"Agent?"

"Diego Fuentes." The guy was built like a tank. "I was up all last night canvassing the Beasley murder." He rubbed his eyes. "I don't normally sleep on the job. Nash, right?"

Aaron nodded. If Fuentes was looking for forgiveness, he'd need to go elsewhere.

"Let's check it out." Perhaps Leech had decided to risk coming back knowing the Feds had recently searched the place and were unlikely to return.

Aaron took the key from Fuentes and jerked his chin toward the mansion. Griffin got out. He texted Frazer to give him the heads-up but not the rest of the team. Their job was to guard Hope. He didn't want them distracted.

Aaron crossed the road and Griffin thrust a ballistics vest at him as they walked up the front steps. He dragged it over his head then peeled off the grippers on his sneakers and tossed them to one side. He kept his voice down. "I saw a light on the third floor. Leech's bedroom."

Excitement stirred in his blood. This could be it. This could be Julius Leech's luck finally running out.

"Fuentes, take the back."

The guy nodded and started jogging to where a narrow alley cut between buildings. Aaron didn't want to lose Leech if he was here by him slipping out the rear entrance while they were searching the attic.

He pulled his weapon and quietly unlocked the door.

They slipped inside, moving in opposite directions, weapons drawn. Aaron indicated the main staircase, and they headed up on silent feet. Griffin cleared the landings while Aaron kept an eye on the stairs. Leech's bedroom was on the third floor. Second door on the left facing the front of the street. They crept forward, and Aaron smelled the scent of burning candles.

He exchanged a look with Griffin as they positioned themselves on either side of the large double doors.

He ignored the excitement that surged through him, found the gray zone where adrenaline didn't hike up his blood pressure and his heartbeat didn't waver. That's why they trained constantly—so their physiology didn't betray them in a firefight. The perpetual risk of death became a routine part of the job rather than something to worry about.

But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy at the prospect of meeting Julius Leech behind these doors and putting the asshole away for good. Hell, Aaron could be away from Boston before Hope woke up in the morning, safe and sound.

He twisted the knob, rushing inside, Griffin behind him before taking position in the opposite corner of the room the way they trained over and over in the Shooting House.

It took him less than a second to take in the scene. A large poster of a blonde in a pornographic position had been taped to the wall. The woman's face was Hope's, but Aaron didn't think she'd spent a lot of time naked in high heels in the desert. A dozen candles were lit beneath it forming a sort of shrine.

Aaron was all for worshiping naked women, but this scene made his stomach lurch.

Another smell hit his nostrils the same instant he spotted the blood saturating the white bedding. It wasn't just blood, Aaron realized after a quick glance. An animal had been disemboweled and displayed on the covers like some kind of satanic sacrifice.

He whirled at a noise. "FBI! Get your hands where I can see them!"

The hooded figure hesitated in the darkness and then darted away. Aaron charged after them, but they slammed the door shut and locked it in his face.

The bathroom.

He rammed his shoulder into it, once, twice, but the solid wood didn't budge.

Then he remembered there was another way out of that room. "Other door."

He and Griffin sprinted through the bedroom to find the exit wide open. "He's gone down the back stairs. Take the front."

Aaron took off after the sounds of the rapidly retreating intruder, hoping the asshole went out the back and ran straight into Fuentes' arms or doubled around to the front door to be confronted by Griffin.

No such luck. Aaron heard the mystery man's noisy progression through the Delawares' ground floor apartment and out the side door that formed the Delawares' main entrance. The cold breeze sliced into Aaron as he threw himself out the door and bounced off the opposite wall.

The sound of two shots being fired was all the warning he got. One bullet smacked into his ballistic vest like a sledgehammer. The second hugged the wall and grazed the side of his head like a hot poker.

Aaron raised his gun to aim, but the figure whipped around the corner onto the front street. He wanted to keep in pursuit, but the shot had knocked the breath out of his lungs, and he could barely inhale, let alone run.

He heard footsteps behind him and raised his hand to tell whoever it was not to shoot.

"Nash?" Fuentes huffed up beside him. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He finally managed to draw in some air. "He got away."

Running footsteps told him Griffin was approaching down the thin alleyway.

"You see him?" asked Aaron.

"No. Did he hit you?"

Aaron tore off the vest and pulled up his shirt to make sure he hadn't been shot. "Hit the vest." Dead center of his chest.

He held Griffin's stare for a moment. If Griffin hadn't fetched the body armor from the SUV, Aaron wouldn't have wasted time to go get it. He'd either be dead or bleeding out right now. And his friends would once again be in mourning.

He nodded to the other operator. "Thanks, man."

Griffin made a face. "I can't believe we lost the bastard."

Aaron pushed away from the wall. "He might be hiding in the shadows. Let's go see if we can flush him out." But suddenly the smell of acrid smoke filled the air. Shit. "Call the fire department. I think the house is on fire."