Chapter 16

It was official, I could take no more.

The man I grew up thinking of as an uncle turned out to be nothing short of a bastard who was plotting a terrorist attack with the Chinese. The man who'd raised me had been lying to me since the day I'd met him. The man who'd donated his DNA to make me was a well-known Russian enforcer. The mother I'd mourned for two decades was really alive and had abandoned me.

If that wasn't enough, I'd screwed up. Not just a little screw-up—not that there was such a thing in my line of work but on a scale of one to ten I'd royally fucked up. I'd miscalculated. I hadn't considered I was the pawn until Zane pointed it out.

Then to round out the suckage of my life, Easton was witnessing my downfall. That should've been the least of my worries, however for some reason it mattered way more than it should. A lot more than it should, so much so I couldn't stop thinking about it when I should've been focused on Maddon and how I'd misjudged his plan. Or how Dutch had sent Badger out to find my mother. That last was a hit to my heart.

Badger would find her; then what?

Another mental breakdown?

Would Easton be there to see that, too?

Would he hold me through it like he did last night?

Did I want him to?

More than my next breath.

And speaking of breath, I felt a pair of strong arms that were already tight around my middle, squeeze. I forced in a lungful of air and mentally came back to the room.

"Babe," Easton called.

Damn, I really liked when he called me ‘babe.' I wasn't so delusional I didn't know that for a man like Easton it was nothing more than a throwaway name, not an endearment. But still, no one had ever called me that, or baby. He'd called me both. I liked ‘babe' but when he called me ‘baby' it did crazy things to my insides.

"Hey," he called out again.

"Huh?"

His arms loosened, his back arched so he could dip his chin, mine tipped back, and when it did I caught his eyes.

Realization hit full force. Easton holding me, how close we were, how natural it felt to go to him, to reach out and touch him when I needed strength.

"Did you hear Zane?" he carefully asked.

Shit, I'd totally zoned out.

I shook my head.

"We're headed back to the US."

I glanced to one side, then the other, to find Smith missing from the room.

Damn, I'd seriously zoned out.

"Why?"

"Regroup."

Right. Regroup. That made sense.

Disorganization is the same as defeat, Nebraska. Never go in unprepared.

I could go to Florida, or better yet go to Wyoming to The Ranch outside of Evanston. Connect with Dutch give him a piece of my mind and regroup there. Maddon wanted my thoughts and emotions muddled. He needed me confused and in pain. The more disoriented and distracted I was the better.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

I nodded and tried to step back—the tried part of my attempt was denied. Easton held tight while he stared down at me. I wasn't short, neither was I tall. It was just that he had inches on me, at least six of them. I wasn't going to think about how much I liked the height difference, how safe I felt with his arms around me, how I'd have to roll up on my toes to touch my mouth to his, how he could tuck me under his arm and how I'd fit perfectly there.

Nope.

I wasn't thinking about any of that.

Further from that I wasn't thinking about how much I'd miss him when we parted ways. I was blocking that out because it was crazy.

"Are you hungry?"

"Hungry?"

"Two protein bars and a sticky bun from an ENOC station it's enough to sustain life."

"Says who?"

I wasn't so far gone in my seriously shitty situation I missed the way Easton's lips twitched. Actually my awareness of his nearness was so acute I couldn't miss the way those kissable, full lips, surrounded with a few days of stubble, tipped into a panty-melting grin.

"Says me."

"I'll have you know finding a sticky bun at a petrol station in the middle of Egypt was a once in a lifetime find."

His smile widened, ratcheting up the hotness quotient tenfold.

"So I bought three," I continued.

"I know, I was there."

And he was there, right by my side. He hadn't let me go into the station without him. He'd also stood outside the bathroom door the four times we'd stopped to gas up and use the restroom.

"I only ate one."

"Right. So what you're saying is your dinner is going to be two sugar rolls."

"Two gooey rolls, drenched in brown sugar with pecan bits," I corrected. "Yummy goodness that undoubtedly will give me a stomachache but it'll be worth it."

"How about I feed you something that won't give you a stomachache."

I used another mental stop sign and blocked that out, too.

I wasn't going to process how much I liked him wanting to feed me. Neither was I going to expend the energy of trying to remember the last time someone cared enough to make sure I ate.

Something so small—silly really—yet at the same time huge. At least for someone like me, who'd never had anyone give a shit if I was taking care of myself.

"Fun fact about me, I don't eat MREs."

Another twitch of his lips.

God, he was killing me.

"Can't say I blame you, they suck."

"So I'll pass and stick with my—"

"Yummy goodness," he finished for me.

Okay, now he was just twisting the knife in my heart.

Hot then cold.

Jerk then kind.

One minute he made it clear he didn't like me, the next he was being sweet.

In all fairness, that hot and cold ran both ways and I had yet to apologize for the name-calling.

"Listen, Easton, before we part ways I need—"

"Part ways?"

"You said we were going back," I reminded him.

"We are. You're coming with me."

"Yeah, I know back to the US. Then parting ways. Regrouping."

His head tipped to the side at the same time his eyes narrowed.

"I didn't say anything about parting ways. You're coming with us back to Annapolis."

Oh no.

That wasn't good.

I needed to get away from Easton before I did something really dumb and got more attached to him than I already was. Not to mention, I was a coward and didn't want to face the rest of Z Corps.

I shook my head but didn't get a chance to speak before Easton continued. "You're coming with us. That's non-negotiable.

Not this again.

"Non-negotiable? What, are you going to count to ten and threaten to throw me over your shoulder again?"

"I don't know, are you going to threaten to fondle my dick again?"

Now I was remembering why I hadn't apologized for the name-calling.

The man was infuriating.

"I didn't threaten to fondle. I threatened to punch you in your dick."

"Same thing." He shrugged.

It was nowhere near the same thing.

The smug grin he sported made my next question rhetorical.

"Are you enjoying this?"

Yet he still answered, "Not as much as I'd enjoy—"

"Asshole," I hissed and turned on my heel to find a bathroom so I could shower off the eight-hour drive and the news that Badger was out there somewhere looking for my long-lost-still-alive-mother.

"You wanna change it up and play it that way, I'm game."

For my sanity I kept my retort to myself.

It wasn't until I was in the shower alone that I smiled. As irritating as Easton was, I couldn't deny I liked the banter.

Another reason it was time to cut ties and retreat back to The Ranch.

Easton was the distraction I couldn't afford. The man was lethal. He would be the diversion that killed my mission.