5. Zach

FIVE

Zach

Three months later

"Would you like a coffee, Mr. Reynolds?" the secretary asked.

"No thank you, ma'am."

"I'm sure they won't be too long," she added, and before I could answer that I was way too early, the phone distracted her.

With no choice but to wait for the meeting, all I could do was stare at the wall, but when I glanced around the room, my eyes caught a flicker of movement—a figure disappearing into one of the nearby offices.

For a split second, my chest tightened at the sight of the short, dark-haired man in jeans and a white shirt, a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through me—was that Kai? Memories of that heated moment we'd shared months ago poked at me, of getting off against a wall, and as if Pavlov had rung a damn sex bell, I was hard in my dress pants.

Not a good thing.

I'd thought about Kai more than a few times since that night, assuming he'd lost his role in 427, that he was out there causing chaos, standing up to the bad guys, and maybe becoming an assassin. I'd never worried enough to check where he'd ended up. After all, he'd just been a semi-anonymous fuck.

A hot temptation in a small package.

Someone who'd wormed their way into my days—and nights—without me realizing.

Hell, he was probably off causing trouble somewhere else, if he was even alive, far from the confines of this bland corporate office. I shook my head, pushing the distracting thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus on the clock, which inched closer to eleven.

This was no time to dwell on past hookups, however hot they'd been, especially not when I was about to meet this new team. I needed to focus, to prove I would fit in this role, and to leave the past where it belonged.

Right along with the grief and the memories and the pain.

Today marked my first-day post-SEALs, working with an independent foundation—Sanctuary—a significant shift from my time with the Navy. The Navy had handpicked and loaned me out and moved me on when they couldn't place me on a new SEAL team, and the transition had been a whirlwind of paperwork, briefings, and introductions.

I followed the secretary's gesture and took a seat, thinking that Oz would have been flirting with the pretty lady the moment we stepped in, and McKenzie would urge him to cool his jets, apologizing to the woman because Oz didn't care who he flirted with.

A familiar grief snatched my breath.

Oz had died on my watch two months ago, wouldn't be flirting with anyone else, gone too young. Then McKenzie retired, and our solid band of brothers was two key members down. It was on me to either adapt to a new MC or move on. Headhunted by a new covert team, with the Navy backing the move, I was ready to go.

"Petty Officer? You can go in now." The secretary motioned at the door opposite.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Taking a deep breath, I knocked, waited for the invitation, and entered. The room was spacious, with a long conference table dominating the center and large windows letting in California sunlight. Three figures sat waiting, their expressions a mix of curiosity and expectation.

And there, leaning by the wall behind them, like some kind of sentry, was a fourth man I recognized: Kai. I'd been right—I had seen him, and my heart skipped a beat as our eyes met, a rush of conflicting emotions flooding through me. Surprise, frustration, and an undeniable undercurrent of desire—all tangled in a single flash.

An infuriating smirk played at the corners of Kai's lips. "Hey, Petty Officer Frogman," he replied as if nothing had happened between us. As if I didn't know he was a loose cannon.

As if we hadn't gotten off in the dark.

I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep my emotions in check. How could he be here? Did no one know how freaking dangerous he was? Kai's presence threw me off-balance in a way I hadn't expected, but I couldn't let him see how much he'd rattled me.

"Assassin," I acknowledged.

"Jake Callahan, representing the Sanctuary Foundation." Jake stood, a tall man with a ready smile and his hand extended, which I shook. "This is Special Agent Llewellyn, CIA, Chloe Archer, Homeland Security. And you already appear to know Kai?"

For my sins.

"Petty Officer… Mr. Reynolds… welcome. Please sit," Jake said.

"Zach," I corrected. My former rank was irrelevant in this new team—this was gray ops that went beyond the Navy and being a SEAL.

"Zach," Jake acknowledged with a smile, and I nodded in return, keeping my expression neutral as he gestured at the coffee on the table. "Help yourself."

"I'm good, thank you, sir."

"Call me Jake, please. So, down to business. You accepted our invitation, but how much do you know about what we're trying to do here?"

I glanced from Jake to the Llewellyn guy next to him, and then to the Homeland Security woman, Chloe, who smiled in encouragement. I had an excellent idea of what Sanctuary wanted to do—create a team that would cross stateside and international issues, do unsanctioned work…gray ops, but on a different scale and not answerable to the government.

"Not as much as I'd like, sir," I responded, forgetting he'd asked me to call him Jake.

"I own and fund a private foundation tasked with helping where others can't," he began, his tone grave.

"Like Knight Rider without the cool car," Kai remarked, earning himself a warning glance from Jake and a subtle hush gesture. I braced myself for Kai to snarl and snap, but to my surprise, he shrugged.

Jake continued. "Witness protection, US mainland, and the new team that I'm founding—we call it Shadow Team— is something like Knight Rider without the cool car…" He quirked a smile at Kai, then stopped and sighed. "Let's just say that sometimes my foundation can't do enough ." He leveled a look at me, and I nodded. "We can't cross borders or color outside the lines."

He paused and allowed me to fill in the blanks—black ops, plausible deniability, blah blah, I'd heard all this before. Every private army wanted former SEALs on their books, but something about this man and his Sanctuary Foundation, with the feds sitting next to him, spoke of a very different animal.

"If you accept the offer to join the new team, you'd be working out of a Chicago base." He waited again.

I realized it was on me to say yes or no. I'd always been military, always measured. Was this right for me without me knowing more? Did I have to answer just on instinct alone? I met Kai's steady focus, feeling that familiar frustration, and knew we'd never be able to work together if he was on the team.

But maybe that was what I needed. His fire. Sarcasm. Lack of discipline that needed reining in.

Life.

To be pushed out of my comfort zone.

"I'm interested in knowing more," I said.

"Okay, then," Jake said. Then he outlined something he called Shadow Team and went into specifics about the kinds of things in their remit. I was right about it being black ops, and yeah, I felt excited as I listened.

Despite my best efforts to stay focused on his overview, the folder he opened in front of him drew me in. It revealed a series of grim photos and one of a couple dressed for some kind of event. "This is Vincent Santoro," Jake began, his tone grave as he passed that photo across the table to me. "And these are just examples of the humans his organization traffics." My stomach churned at the sight of young women crammed into the back of a truck, some unconscious, others lifeless. The image of one woman with a bullet between her eyes burned, and I blinked away the emotion of seeing the brutal end to the helplessness in black and white.

Jake continued to explain the scope of the mission. Working to dismantle the organization trafficking humans, drugs, and weapons, funding terrorism, and despite the remit sounding huge, I could see how I could fit into this.

"This network spans multiple countries, with Santoro serving as the primary supplier in LA," Jake explained, his voice steady as he outlined the details of our mission. "Your task, Zach, would be to infiltrate the organization and gather intel on their operations so federal agencies can dismantle them. There won't be glory, we won't take any praise for what we do. There's a wall around you and your partner that means other agencies have plausible deniability."

"And my partner?" I didn't know why I was asking—I already knew where this was going.

"Kai Henderson, former 427. He says the two of you have met occasionally on active ops," Jake said .

My chest tightened at the thought of working with him—a confusion of denial, attraction, and distrust. And as Jake continued to outline the mission parameters, I had a growing sense of unease at Kai's presence. Despite his undeniable skills piloting a helicopter, I didn't know him, and there was still something about him that set my teeth on edge—he had a recklessness bordering on dangerous, and I had to fight the need to get close to him and kiss the infuriating smile off his perfect face.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he raised a single eyebrow and smirked.

Fucker.

The first part of the briefing drew to a close. This wasn't just a mission to infiltrate and take down a huge LA crew, it was going to have us working with the people the crews trafficked, and all I could think was thatif Kai was at my side,this was too much of a power move to risk my life and the lives of others. I needed someone I could trust implicitly, someone who wouldn't jeopardize the safety of our two-men-on-the-ground team.

Someone I didn't imagine naked and sprawled on my bed waiting for me.

"Questions at this stage?" Jake asked.

I kept my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within me. "I would formally request a different partner for this mission. "

I knew it was a bold move to demand something this early in whatever relationship I'd have with this off-the-books team, but I couldn't ignore the way Kai wasn't paying any attention to this at all, leaning against the wall and staring me down. His nonchalant demeanor added to my growing frustration. It was as if he didn't care about the potential consequences of this mission. Kai was dangerous and unpredictable, and I refused to put my life—or the success of the mission—in his hands. Case in point the way he clutched his chest and faked shock.

"Maybe I'm the one who wants a different partner," Kai said.

"I'm not the dangerous one," I snapped then stood, my hands in fists.

Jake regarded us both with a measured expression, his expression betraying no hint of surprise at my request or Kai's reaction.

"I understand your concerns, Zach." He glanced at Kai, who winced at the unspoken criticism. "But whatever his faults, Kai has proved himself as one of our best operatives on single missions, and his skill set aligns perfectly with yours."

His words deepened my unease. Single missions sounded about right—Kai was a weapon, but he was a loner, and I couldn't shake the feeling that partnering with Kai would be a recipe for disaster. Still, I had to tread carefully—I couldn't afford to alienate myself from this new team concept before the mission even began.

"How long have you been working with this team in the shadows?" I asked Kai directly.

"I can neither confirm nor deny that I am part of a covert off-the-books organization," he deadpanned.

I tensed. "How long?"

"Who's asking?"

"Jesus, you're an asshole," I snapped, and heard the CIA guy inhale sharply, and regretted losing my shit. "I apologize," I said, already seeing my new career in the toilet.

"Let's leave them to figure this out." Jake's tone was hard—a warning—as he motioned for the CIA and Homeland Security representatives to leave the room, leaving Kai and me alone.

I exchanged a tense glance with Kai after the door closed on us, the realization sinking in that my success in getting this role hinged on my ability to work with him. But as Kai's steely gaze bore into mine, I couldn't shake the feeling that any partnership with him would be anything but smooth sailing. Did I want this new role enough? Could I compromise? Could I trust him?

"How long have you been with this team?" I repeated, my voice laced with irritation.

He tapped his lip as if he was thinking. "Long enough to know that you won't get a better partner than me. Mostly because there's only two of us, when you're only the second person they've brought in."

"Only two?"

"We're experimental and team one." He clenched his fist in salute. "Go team one."

"So, you don't have an existing partner?" I asked.

His eyes narrowed and he tensed, but it was quick and easy to miss as the mask of indifference fell back into place and he shrugged. "Assassins work alone."

"You're not a freaking assassin," I muttered, and winced when, with sudden, predatory grace, Kai stalked toward me, his eyes burning as he closed the distance between us.

"I could kill you with one fingertip," he deadpanned.

Fuck. I was hardening in an instant—what was it about this man that got to me? I bristled. "You could try." He rolled his eyes at that. "I'm guessing 427 booted you?"

"Their loss."

"Did you kill that LT?"

"Nah, but I hit him so hard he lost a tooth." He grinned as if it was hilarious, but it wasn't freaking funny. It was yet another warning he was a loose cannon. "I'm guessing you booted the SEALs?" he asked.

My back was up, and I went on the defensive. "I did my time." Couldn't face a team without Oz and McKenzie .

"So now you want black ops to fill the adrenalin gap, Frogman?"

I ignored that. "Are you still on the edge?"

He huffed a laugh and then crowded me. "You tell me," and before I could react, he pressed me against the wall, his proximity sending a jolt of adrenalin coursing through my veins. "Want a repeat of our last meeting?"

For a moment, the sheer force of his presence, the heat of his body searing mine, paralyzed me. But as he leaned closer, teasing me with the scent of him, the remembered hand job, and addictive kisses, I pushed him away with a surge of defiance.

"Don't play games," I growled, my voice rough with frustration. But instead of backing down, Kai only seemed to revel in the challenge, his smirk widening as he closed the gap between us once more.

With a surge of lust, I shoved him back and pinned him, gripping his throat, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I stared him down.

"Well, that's different," he murmured, and reached to cover my hand with his. "I like this side of you."

I stepped back. "Don't push me," I snarled, uncomfortably aware of how hard I was and hoping to hell my pants didn't show how turned-on I was.

He wrenched himself free with some fancy Krav Maga, and I let him go. He took a seat, pulled the folder toward him, his attitude shifting as he transitioned into professional mode, his features hardening. Gone was the reckless edge that had defined him moments before, replaced now by a steely resolve and a cool, calculating demeanor. It was like flipping a light switch, but I didn't have time to think about it before he started talking.

"Listen up," he began, his voice firm and commanding as he laid out the plan with a precision that spoke volumes of his expertise. "I have an intact persona we can use. You'll need to infiltrate the crews from the inside, gain their trust, and gather as much intel as you can before we make our move. I'm thinking skin job because?—"

"The hell?"

"Skin job, you know, where you fuck someone to get their trust."

"I know what a skin job is, asshole."

"That part will be on me. I'll go under, get close to this woman, wine and dine, get an in, I'll work internally and…"

I'd never done a skin job, never needed to. SEALs were surgical, remote to the marks, but he clearly had experience. My focus sharpened as I listened to his instructions. Despite my reservations about working with Kai, I had to agree with his plan to allow us to take down the crews and dismantle their operations.

"You'll take the lead on collating intel, focus on identifying key targets, assessing the threat level," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact as he outlined our roles. "I'll work the distribution center, and this new team setup will back us up with comm. You'll report to me."

"Nice try, partner," I deadpanned him.

He sighed with added drama. "Whatever." Then he held out a hand with a blank expression. If I shook his hand, then I was agreeing to this partnership , but what else could I do? I wanted in on this team, I wanted adrenalin, I wanted to change things, make the world safer. I wanted to forget about losing Oz.

I extended a hand to meet his, only he yanked me close and pressed me to the wall again, his lips near my ear.

"But I'm always on top," he murmured.

I yanked myself away to stalk out of the room. Jake was in the same chair I'd waited on, talking on his cell—no sign of the other two—and he ended the call when he saw me.

And against my better judgment, I said what I had to. "I'll work with him."

Somehow, for my sins, I'd agreed to partner with the sexy, irreverent, prickly, arrogant, sarcastic, versatile, talented, freaking sex-on-legs Kai Henderson.

And I'm not sure what I'd done to deserve it, more so when behind me, the obnoxious fucker I was tying myself to whooped and thrust his fist into the air.

"Team one, activate!"

Kill me now.