Chapter 13

13

Alex stirred as the first rays of sunlight seeped around the edges of the thick blackout curtains, painting the worn furniture in depressing shades of gray. The faint sounds of horses nickering and equipment clanging drifted from the racetrack across the road. She slid quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb Jason, who was curled on his side at the far edge of the mattress.

Sleep had eluded her all night, her mind a whirlwind of worry about Gravy’s safety and the future of RAVEN. Now that they were on this Seven-Five’s radar, everything she’d built was at risk.

She slipped into the bathroom, wincing as she flicked on the garish fluorescent light. Her reflection confirmed what she already knew—she looked awful. Her usually sleek black hair hung in limp hanks, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. Tossing and turning all night in her clothes hadn’t helped, though thankfully, her tech gear didn’t wrinkle. Much.

Not that she should care how she looked. It’s just ... it had been a while since she’d had anything resembling a conversation with a handsome guy. And irritating and bossy as he might be, Jason Reilly was exceedingly handsome. His obvious faith made him even more so.

Alex shook her head, disgusted with herself. “Get your head back in the game, Mendoza,” she muttered. But it was hard. RAVEN had consumed her life these past five years, leaving little room for anything else. When was the last time she’d spoken to someone for purely social reasons?

She couldn’t recall.

Impatient with herself, she slipped on a clean tech tee and grabbed her toothbrush. That would have to suffice for now.

Midway through brushing her teeth, a muffled exclamation startled her. She yanked open the door to find Jason bolt upright, rifling through their pile of clothes and equipment.

“He’s gone,” he said, meeting her eyes.

She pulled the toothbrush from her mouth. “Gravy?”

“Yup. He took his go bag and left this.” Jason thrust out a note scrawled on motel stationery.

This is all my fault. I’ll handle things from here. Stay chill, my friends. G ? —

Alex blinked in surprise. When had he slipped out? She hadn’t heard a thing.

Jason ran a hand through his tousled hair. “That little sneak,” he added, a mix of annoyance and grudging admiration in his voice.

Alex felt a headache brewing behind her eyes. This day was already off to a fantastic start.

She scanned the bustling track area. Men in work clothes swarmed around the stables, but there was no sign of Gravy. The guy’s misplaced guilt twisted her stomach into knots.

Expression stony, Jason grabbed a jacket out of his go bag and put it on. Concealing his Sig Sauer in the right pocket, he then swiped one of the key cards to the room off the dresser and headed for the door. “I’ll track him down.”

“Not without me.” She hurried to grab her own jacket and weapon. “We’ll have better luck together.”

For once, he didn’t argue.

The stable area directly across the street was under heavy guard. Understandably. No way Gravy had walked in. The track sprawled north and south, butting up against the interstate for almost a mile in each direction.

“He’d try to find transportation,” Jason guessed. “We need to head toward the main drag.” He pointed east.

Side by side, they hurried down the narrow back street, checking every window they passed.

They were almost to the main street when Jason spotted him in a nearby diner.

Alex shook her head. Window seat. Not the smartest move.

“We might as well join him.” Jason held the door for her.

The place was packed with tiny men in sweatsuits—jockeys, obviously— and others in sweat-stained shirts and muck-covered boots. The smell of bacon and coffee hung thick in the air.

Alex slid into the booth on Gravy’s side, trapping him in. The man’s eyes darted between them, wariness evident in the hunched shoulders beneath his tangled mop of hair.

“Morning,” he mumbled, clearly anticipating their anger. “Before you say anything, I was hungry. I didn’t want to wake you guys up.”

Jason gave him a hard look. “Right. Why the note, then?”

Gravy hung his head. “I feel bad putting you guys to all this trouble.”

“We have no evidence those attacks had anything to do with you,” Alex was quick to insist. “My money’s on Army here. He’s our troublemaker.”

Gravy pushed a fried egg around his plate. “Maybe. Sure. I can buy that. I’m nobody. Who’d come after me?”

“Not what I meant.”

He smiled sadly. “I know. You’re way too nice to say it. Anyways, I’m glad you guys found me. I already decided I’d head on back to the motel after I ate. I don’t really have much of an escape plan.”

“We’re leaving. Now,” Jason said, his voice low but firm.

Gravy’s fork clattered against his plate. “Can’t we finish breakfast? You haven’t even ordered. Can’t start the day without java, dude.”

Alex sighed, the aroma of pancakes weakening her resolve. “He’s right.”

Jason looked pained. “Fine. But eat fast.”

As they ate, Gravy steered the conversation to lighter topics, drawing out childhood stories and favorite foods. Alex found herself relaxing despite the circumstances. Intentional or not, Gravy had a natural way of bridging the gap between her and Jason.

Her eyes caught on the intricate cross tattoo on Gravy’s forearm. “That’s beautiful work.”

Gravy beamed. “Thanks! Jason actually got me into church. My family wasn’t into that stuff, so I had no idea what I was missing.”

He turned to Alex, curiosity bright in his eyes. “What about you? Are you a believer?”

Alex paused, memories of her childhood flooding back. “For sure,” she nodded. “Both my parents and my yaya—my grandmother—they instilled faith and prayer in me from a young age.”

“Same here,” Jason chimed in.

“What about your parents?” Alex asked, surprising herself with her interest.

“Dead,” Jason replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “Kind of like your cousin. But my sister and I had our grandparents. We had a good childhood. Better than it could have been.”

A pang of sadness hit Alex as she imagined a young Jason, robbed of his parents too soon. It reminded her of Gabe, and of her own losses—her father to a heart attack five years ago, her mother to diabetes just last year. She’d been an adult, but the pain was still fresh.

Uncomfortable with the growing sense of connection, she fidgeted in her seat. “We should go.”

Jason nodded, already reaching for the bill.

As they exited the diner, Alex noticed Jason’s subtle shift in posture. His shoulders tensed, eyes scanning their surroundings.

“What?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Two potential hostiles,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. “Two o’clock. Behind that black SUV. About 300 yards.”

Alex’s gaze darted to the spot Jason indicated. Two men in nondescript jeans and dark jackets stood beside the vehicle. Too bland to be owners. Too clean to be stable hands.

Her heart rate quickened. “I see them. What’s the play?”

Jason’s voice was calm, belying the tension in his frame. “We act natural. I’ll take point, you bring up the rear. Keep Gravy between us.”

They set off, their pace measured and unhurried. Alex fought the urge to look over her shoulder, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of Gravy’s footsteps in front of her. The morning air, tinged with the scent of hay and horse, felt electric with potential danger.

As they rounded the corner to their motel, Jason’s stride lengthened. “I think we’re clear,” he said, relief evident in his voice.

Alex released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “False alarm?”

“Looks like it. But better safe than sorry.”

They entered the motel room, the musty air a welcome reprieve from the tension outside. As Alex began gathering their belongings, her phone buzzed. A text from Gabriel flashed across the screen:

Big disaster. Call me ASAP.

Her stomach dropped. Just when they thought they were in the clear, another crisis loomed. She looked up at Jason and Gravy, their faces expectant.

“We’ve got a bigger problem,” she said, her voice tight.

Or at least she did.