Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Irish stood by the bed, watching Cass sleep. Tiny frown lines marred her forehead. If only he could smooth them away. Tell her that there was nothing for her to worry about, but he couldn’t lie to her, not after the shitstorm of the day before.

So much had happened in the space of twelve hours. She’d had to sit through two meetings with the men who’d affected her life in two major ways.

He still couldn’t believe that Javier—wait, no. Isaac Warner—had sat in Alliez’s offices and admitted to not leaving Cass behind after the botched mission. To hear what he’d also done to Growler’s former SEAL team, it was almost too much to take in.

When they’d gotten home, Cass had collapsed on the couch and stared at the wall .

Irish hadn’t pushed her to talk to him. He’d let her sit with her thoughts, as she had so much to process. When she’d looked at him, her big brown eyes brimming with tears, his heart wrenched, and he wished he could take away her pain. Make everything go away.

Instead, what he’d done was hold her as she cried again. Then Irish had carried her to bed and laid down with her until she’d fallen asleep.

If he didn’t sleep until Ramirez was eliminated, then that was what he’d do. Keeping Cass safe was the most important job he’d ever taken on.

“Why are you watching me? That’s next level creeper,” Cass mumbled sexily.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized she’d woken.

How long had she been watching him?

Not that it mattered. He didn’t care that she’d caught him looking at her.

“Watching over you is not creepy.”

“It is when I wake up and find this hot guy standing over me and not lying next to me.” Cass patted the bed. “Come to bed, Dylan. You can watch over me just was well when you’re curled up next to me.”

Dylan .

She killed him when she used his given name. The sound so sweet off her lips. Irish wanted to hear her call him that for the rest of his life.

Cass was right. He could keep her safe anywhere.

Shucking off his clothes, he climbed into bed and pulled her tightly against him.

Cass rested her hand on his chest, over his heart.

A heart that beat just for her. He’d been put on this earth for this woman. He felt it down to the tips of his toes. He’d never thought he’d give himself over completely to another person, but here he was, doing exactly that for her.

“I hate not knowing when it’s going to happen,” she said after they’d been lying there for a while.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Maybe if he said it often enough, he’d believe it.

“You don’t know that.”

No, he didn’t, but Irish would make damn sure he did everything possible to ensure that Ramirez would be eliminated without Cass ever having to see the man. “Maybe not, but I’m not going to leave your side.”

“You can’t always be by my side, Irish. That’s ridiculous.”

“Dylan.”

Cass sat up. “What?”

He smoothed her hair off her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “I want you to call me Dylan. The sound of my name off your lips is the sweetest sound.”

A slow smile stretched her lips, and she leaned down. “Kiss me, Dylan.”

“Always,” Irish whispered before capturing her lips. They should continue their conversation, but he didn’t want to.

Didn’t want to think about anything but the woman in his arms. The woman he loved more than he ever thought he could possibly love someone.

The drive to the office was easy, and no one had followed them. There were no trucks blocking the entrance to the underground parking garage, like there had been when Ox and Eveline had been ambushed.

Eveline had been kidnapped by her crazed former boss. Irish was hyper conscious of every mile that passed. Every car that came up alongside them. Every person who crossed the street when they stopped at traffic lights. By the time they rolled into the garage, his nerves were frayed more than they ever had been on a mission.

“If you grip that steering wheel any tighter, it’s going to snap,” Cass said lightly as she released her seatbelt.

Irish flexed his fingers, grimacing a little when the knuckles cracked. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Her hand landed on his arm. “Dylan, I’m wearing trackers. If anything happens, you’ll find me. I know you will.”

His heart stopped when she talked about being taken, as if it were a given.

Perhaps it was, but he didn’t want it to be. He’d make sure it didn’t happen.

Was he putting undue pressure on himself? Without a doubt, but if he wasn’t vigilant, he wouldn’t be happy with himself.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Irish reiterated.

Cass smiled a little sadly, as if she knew it was only a matter of time before the ax fell, and chaos ensued.

God, he hated to admit it to himself, and no matter how many times he tried to talk himself out of it, he agreed. Nothing they did was foolproof. No matter how vigilant they were. No matter what protocols they put into place. No matter if he glued himself to Cass’s side, things still happened.

Irish hooked a hand behind her head and tugged her toward him. He pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment, before resting his forehead against hers. “I love you, Cass.”

“I love you too, Dylan.”

They shared another kiss, this one full of promise and longing—and also fear.

Fear that this might be the last time they kissed.

The last time they’d be together.

They broke apart, both breathing rapidly.

“Come on, let’s get you inside. We’ll see if, by some miracle, Jav—Isaac has put us all out of our misery and gone against orders and eliminated Ramirez.” As much as Irish wished it’d happen, it was doubtful.

How many opportunities had Isaac had to take out Ramirez while he’d been acting as Javier?

Probably a lot, but knowing the protocols of assignments, the undercover agent’s hands were tied. Which was why they hadn’t been able to do anything to Ramirez the day before, when he’d been alone.

“If anyone knows how things work, it’s you. I’m sure if he could’ve in the past, he would’ve. I don’t know how he was able to be around that for eight years and not be changed,” Cass mused as they headed toward the elevator.

“We don’t know if the person we saw is the real Isaac. He could be more Javier than Isaac.”

“Maybe, but I was watching him. There was nothing fake about how he was acting or what he was saying. You also saw him with Growler. If he’d changed by being around my uncle, and all the evil that surrounds him, he would’ve gloated about what he’d done. He would’ve been defiant against Growler’s attack against him.”

They couldn’t talk anymore, as the elevator stopped at the ground floor, and more people got on.

Irish pulled Cass close. His free hand was ready to grab his firearm should he need to.

Once they got into the office, he relaxed a little. At least here they had some control over their surroundings and who came into the building. Not to mention there were plenty of people ready to protect Cass.

They headed down the hallway. Fox and Jag’s usual workspace was empty. Angel busily tapped away at his keyboard. “Where are these two?” He canted his head toward the vacant desks as Cass headed to her office. He wanted to follow but wanted to know where the others had gone and if something was going down .

“Watching Ramirez’s house. They followed Warner after he left here yesterday.”

“Any movement?

“Nothing that warrants us to pile down there and take the fucker out.”

Like everyone at Alliez, Angel was just as keen to bring an end to this saga with the cartel.

Would it really be over if they did eliminate Ramirez?

How many other people in the cartel know about Cass and her connection to the drug lord?

Would she never be safe from them? Would there always be a threat over her head?

Irish pinched the bridge of his nose, tired of all the questions. Tired that the woman he loved might never be free. Tired that they couldn’t just wipe them all out. Get rid of the drug problem that plagued not only his country, but the whole world.

“Why is he waiting so long to make his move?” Irish asked.

“I agree, it doesn’t make sense. I wonder if Ramirez is truly keeping Isaac in the loop.”

He pulled out the chair opposite Angel’s desk and sat. “What do you mean?”

“What if Ramirez knows that ‘Javier’ isn’t who he says he is and doesn’t trust him. What’s to say he hasn’t known all along that the person he knows as Javier is actually a plant? You heard what he said to Growler, how he had to make it seem like he wasn’t the mole in the organization.”

The more Angel talked, the more the idea that his buddy might be onto something took hold.

“I mean it’s a possibility. Ramirez would have to know that Teresa is alive, even though Isaac initially told him otherwise.”

Angel’s face tightened at the mention of his fiancée’s name. The only thing keeping the man at his desk was the fact that Teresa was in the building with him. Otherwise he’d have been down in the parking garage in a flash.

“This is so fucked up. The whole thing, from the moment the DEA decided they were going to try and trick Cass’s father by kidnapping her.”

“The operation was destined to fail. I wonder how many had suspected that but couldn’t say anything?” Irish said. There’d been plenty of times he’d wanted to speak up about how fucked up a mission was going to go, but hadn’t said anything.

Fortunately, when they’d been on the ground and his suspicions had been correct, the team had pivoted, and the outcome hadn’t been as bad as it could’ve been .

“We all knew we had to keep our mouths shut and do our jobs.” Angel’s answer echoed Irish’s thoughts.

He stood. The need to see Cass threatened to drown him, but he couldn’t hover over her, no matter how much he wanted to. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

Angel nodded and went back to his computer.

Irish headed over to his office and obsessed over everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours.

They were missing something.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the more he thought about it, the more unease settled in him.

Ramirez was planning something, and he wasn’t letting anyone in on what he was doing—including his right-hand man.

Did Isaac suspect that his cover as Javier had holes in it?

Maybe, maybe not.

Irish didn’t like the guy for what he’d done to Cass and what she’d had to endure, but the man was clearly at the end of his rope. Warner wanted this over with as much as they did. He’d been stuck in that world for a long time. Some of the dirt and evil would have stuck to his skin.

Irish needed to think, and he couldn’t do that in this place. While there may not be a lot of chatter, he always found he did his best thinking when he was out in the open. “I’m heading out to get some air. I’ll be back in thirty,” he said to Angel as he walked past him.

“Okay.”

He made a detour to Cass’s office, but she was immersed in a deep conversation with Eveline.

As if she sensed him, she looked up, her eyes brightening, and a soft smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Hey, you need something?”

What he wanted was his mouth on hers, but he didn’t move from his place leaning against the door frame. “I’m heading out for a bit. Just wanted to say bye.”

Cass closed the small distance to him, placing her hand on his chest, right over his heart. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

Irish put his hand over hers and leaned down, resting his forehead against hers breathing in her scent. He was never going to get enough of this. Of her. Of being this close and being able to touch her freely now. Not having to keep his hands at his sides like he’d been doing for so long. “Am now.”

They stood there for a few moments, just content to be close.

He was aware of Eveline in the room behind them, but considering she was married to the boss, he didn’t worry about having a PDA with Cass.

When Cass stepped back, he wanted to snatch her close again, but he didn’t. “I’m taking a walk. Be back soon.”

She patted his cheek.

His skin tingled at the contact.

“Enjoy,” she said before brushing her lips across his.

Even that small touch had his body coming to life, and Irish wished they were anywhere but the office so he could show her how much he cared.

With one last touch, he headed out of the office. He took the short elevator ride to stamp out the desire zinging through him and return his mind to the very reason he was taking a walk—what was Ramirez’s next move?

The sun shone brightly, and he squinted against it. Too bad he hadn’t picked up his sunglasses before he’d left his desk.

After checking left and right, he went right when he would normally go left and head to the small park near the building.

His mind was full of thoughts about what Cass’s uncle’s plan was when he clocked the two guys coming up beside him. He didn’t have time to react as one of them slapped him on the back. A second later, something pricked his neck, and he stumbled.

They grabbed his arms and held him upright, rushing him down the street.

His legs were tingling, as though a hundred needles were pressing against his flesh. Walking was difficult, and everything was blurry. The last thing he saw before he succumbed to whatever they’d shot into him was the black bottom of whatever he’d been dumped in.