Heroes In Uniform (16 page)

One of them ruined her operation? Everything she’d put in for months? The good guys finally had a chance, and they destroyed it?

His jaw gnashed before it set, and he spoke through his teeth. “What’s it to you?”

That was confirmation enough. Cash and Roman blew up her mission, shattering any chance to further infiltrate Smooth’s world, to take out illegal arms dealers.
No!

She lunged at him. It was the wrong move, an amateur move, but she wasn’t thinking like a trained agent. Screw her busted foot and arm. Nicola landed square in front of him. What was she going to do unarmed? Shake him to death? They’d already confiscated her only gun.

With her one good arm, she beat his chest, pounding out every frustration and emotion that ached within her. The bedroom door flew open revealing Roman and Rocco poised, ready to do… something. She looked up at Cash towering over her, his face cold. Emotionless. She realized she’d been screaming. Her cheeks were wet. Shit, fucking tears. Years of training with the best disintegrated in one night.

Roman looked at Cash. “What the fuck?”

“She’s upset that I blew her boyfriend’s brains on the carpet.”

Roman’s face fell until disappointment snarled onto his face. “Boyfriend?” He turned from her, muttering something to Rocco while walking back down the hall.

Cash whispered, “I can’t believe I loved you.”

God, no. This was all wrong. She didn’t know enough about who they were or why they were there. Explaining her part could have exponential effects on the CIA’s other operations.

Why had she run into them tonight? Aching to tell the truth, aching to remember his love, Nicola looked in the mirror as she collapsed onto the bed. Maybe she was too weak for the job. Self-doubt ate at her like she was back on the Farm, in her first week as a recruit when every man, and the handful of women, had eyed her like lunch. She hadn’t been much, just potential, and she still felt the need to prove herself.

She could do this: act like the agent she was trained to be and stop reacting. Emotions shouldn’t dictate action.

I can’t believe I ever loved you.
Don’t react. Don’t move. His voice clanged through her memory. Her internal orders didn’t work.

“Wait!” Nicola jumped off the bed as best she could, and bounced on one foot to the door.

But Cash was gone, taking the phone and leaving her the clothes. She tore off the mess of a dress, moving as fast as she could, threw the t-shirt over her head and—

And, oh God, did the shirt smell like Cash Garrison. Clean soap and a masculine, peppery scent. On one foot, with one good arm, she balanced with the shirt covering her head and just inhaled, immediately transported back to college. She was in her second year, and he was finishing up his fourth. They lay in bed, naked. His balled up t-shirt served as her pillow.

This shirt smelled like her past. A distant memory. A deep hurt blossomed in her chest.

Oh, no. She was going to break her cover.

She finished pulling it on but grabbed the collar and held it to her nose. Just one more time. Just enough to relive the memory.

Cash told jokes. Always made her laugh, but at that moment, in that memory, he was dead serious and unsure how he would tell Roman they were together. At the time, they’d said together forever, and it’d been time to tell her brother. After she’d walked away, she’d cried for weeks. It still hurt.

She shook her head. Time to get this over with.

Nicola hopped down the hall, limped up the stairs, and found the men at the kitchen table, passing a bottle of Gentleman Jack. Roman stood up, staring at her limp. Cash threw back a shot.

Rocco waved. “Not much in the fridge. Power bars on the counter. But if you feel like joining us, shot glasses are next to the sink. We’re drinking to shitty days. Cheers.” He downed a shot.

“Nicola.” Roman eyed her. “Are you okay?” He smashed glare at Cash. “What’s with the yelling? Dickhead said—”

“She’s not welcome here.” Cash scowled and poured another shot.

This wasn’t going well, and she’d been in the kitchen, oh, two point five seconds.

“Shut your face, Cash.” Roman glared at the table. “Are you ready to, I don’t know, talk about this?”

“No.”

Roman sat down. Nicola grabbed a shot glass and sat down at the square table across from Roman with Rocco and Cash on either side of her. The lights were dim, and the table’s wood grain was suddenly very interesting. Instead of studying it, she grabbed the bottle of Jack, poured herself a shot, and threw it down.

It burned. It was perfect.

The kick gave her a shiver. God, she needed that. So she did it again.

When she looked up, Roman and Cash eyed her, maybe a little shocked to see her drinking like that since last time they’d seen her, she was all
hi, I’d like a pink drink with my pink paper umbrella
. Well, she still liked pink drinks. That hadn’t changed.

Damn, could she handle three shots in a row with nothing in her stomach? Nope, probably not. She slid the shot glass back a few inches.

“Antilla Smooth wasn’t my lover.” She met her brother’s eyes.

He coughed and squirmed. “Didn’t know that was the discussion we were having.”

Cash’s face didn’t register anything other than fury. If he didn’t believe her, that was his problem. It didn’t matter anyway.

Rocco picked up their slack. “Why were you running through the woods? Barefoot.”

“Better yet, why were you all over him?”

So Cash
did
want to join in the conversation. He seemed to ping pong between hurt and jealousy. She couldn’t blame him.

She studied Roman instead of answering because she didn’t know what to say. His eyebrows bunched. Then she glanced at his bicep.
No, no
. A memorial tattoo. RIP. Her year of birth. Her year of death.

Sucking a breath, she breathed out, “I’m sorry.”

Roman nodded. Nicola watched her big brother, who clearly hurt right now, but didn’t know why.

“Sorry? You’ve made that clear,” Cash said.

“Cash, stop.” Her palms felt clammy. “I didn’t freak out on you because I was pissed you killed him. It’s… complicated.”

“Yeah, today’s the definition of complicated.”

Rocco interrupted. “Dude, calm it down. She’s not going to talk to us with you up in her grill. Nicola, go on.”

“Who do you guys work for?” she asked, curious, but really buying time until her brain registered a what-to-say-now plan.

“Nope, not your turn yet.” Rocco stated it like he was wrangling an out-of-line preschooler.

She closed her eyes, then blinked. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Try the day you died.” Cash used air quotes around
died
.

Rocco knocked him in the shoulder, and Roman grumbled.

“Cash and I…” She stole a glance at Cash. An indecipherable flash in his eyes said that he’d never told Roman.

“You and Cash what?” Roman asked.

“Never mind. Simple version. Remember my job in college? I worked part-time for an accounting firm, translating international accounts. Unknowingly, I stumbled onto a money laundering scheme. I didn’t know it, but one of our clients was a mobster who did a lot of business overseas. I’d been tracking cash-for-hire assassinations and hadn’t a clue. Once I connected the dots, I couldn’t believe the truth. Then I naively showed up and accidently saw a goon-squad massacre. Wrong place, wrong time. I’d figured out they were killers, but then I actually saw them murder a man. Too bad that they also saw me. I ran out as the FBI swooped in. A sting operation. Their timing was good for me, bad for the other guy.” She shook her head, remembering the first time she’d watched someone die. “I was in federal protection by the end of the day.”

“Bullshit. It doesn’t work like that.” Cash slapped the table.

“Sometimes it does.”

“But you still go by Nicola?” Roman asked.

She nodded.

“Because?”

“I eventually left federal protection and took a job where I was… safe. I never got used to a different name. I’m Nic. It just worked.”

Roman kneaded his temples. “You didn’t call. Send a damn letter. Nothing.”

“I thought it would be better. Safer. I had a hard enough time adjusting to life without you all. Mom’s face if she got a letter from me? Dad would go insane trying to find me. You and Cash…” Remembering the decisions still hurt. “I had to.”

“You walked away from your life to help prosecute some low life piece of trash?” Pain was evident in the scratch of Roman’s voice.

“You walked away from us?” Cash followed up, and she knew he meant him and her, not their three musketeers.

“I walked away to stay alive. The mobsters knew me, knew what I was privy to. The FBI sting took out a few members, but not the whole organization. I had to disappear. My death had to be untimely and coincidental. If not, those same contract killers would’ve found me—our family—and made me watch as they hurt everyone I loved. The mob had to believe I’d died running away from them. What would you do, Roman? You’d endanger our parents? Me? No, you wouldn’t. You’d do what it took to protect them. Just like I did.”

Cash and Roman seemed lock-jawed. Rocco asked, “Wait? You were trying to protect them?”

“I did protect them.”

“You didn’t give us a chance. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. You should’ve talked to me.”

“I didn’t have time. The FBI gave me thirty seconds to decide. They showed me crime photos and asked if I’d help them with the financial paper trail. All I could think was I’d been tracking accounts payable and receivable for murders. A lot of them. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“Protecting these guys? Shit.” Rocco tipped back on the back legs of his chair. “How ironic.”

Nicola flashed him a glare. “Ironic? You want to tell me how?”

“Ah, nah. These fuckers can fill you in later. Why don’t you tell us about tonight?”

“Can’t.”

“We’ve already done this song and dance, so let’s cut to it so we can all finish getting drunk and go pass out.” Rocco apparently wasn’t taking any shit.

“My turn.” She eyed each of them. “Who do you work for? Who sent you?”

Rocco bounced back down onto all four chair legs. “All right. Fair is fair. A company called The Titan Group.”

“You work for Titan? All three of you?” The military, hell, the CIA, turned to Titan for jobs they didn’t want on their books. How had Cash and Roman ended up on that payroll?

She shook her head out of the question cloud, and saw all three bright-eyed and interested as to how she knew Titan Group existed. Damn it. She was off her game. Little mistakes could be her undoing. She needed to tread with serious care.

Cash answered. “Yeah, all three of us. Roman and I joined the Army after college. We’re a good team. We’re still a team. We’ve been a team since day one. Grade school. High school. Sniper school. But you wouldn’t know anything about that kind of loyalty, would you, Nic?”

“Lay off, Cash.” Roman’s defense wasn’t that strong, but she appreciated it.

“What the fuck ever.” Cash punctuated his words with another shot of whiskey.

“Christ, almighty. What is it with you two?” Roman glared from her to Cash. “You two used to be friends. Do you remember that? Shit.”

Nicola traced the rim of her shot glass with a manicured nail. “You don’t have to lay off. I can take it. I’m just one of the guys.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but Cash pinned her with his stare. “Now it’s your turn again. Why were you hanging off Antilla Smooth’s nuts?”

She deserved that. They were with Titan, and they were her family, once upon a time before she walked away. She could trust them to a point. “I was on the job. Undercover.”

Roman and Cash might have stopped breathing. They were frozen in shock, ready for a slight breeze to knock them away from the table. Rocco, perked up, more interested in that than the family drama. “No joke? Nice. Whose payroll you on?”

“Not going there.” She shrugged.

“How long you been under?”

“Months. Since the start of spring—”

“So you
were
sleeping with him?” Cash interrupted.

He was going to out himself to Roman if he wasn’t careful. Then the three of them would have that discussion to deal with.

Then again, Roman looked shell-shocked. He wasn’t registering Cash’s attitude.

“No. I wasn’t.” She smirked at him. “I was seducing him. Ignoring his advances made his interest in me grow. A manipulative game of cat and mouse. So no, Cash, I didn’t fuck him.”

Rocco laughed. “Cash doesn’t know anything about women not fucking him. You might have to explain seduction to the man because they just throw themselves at him. He doesn’t have to lay groundwork.”

Roman laughed too. It was her turn for a flash-bang of jealousy. Cash glared at Rocco, who apparently took to heart the just-one-of-the-guys line she’d thrown down.

Cash was handsome, more so than when they were younger. His blond hair could use a haircut, but he was missing his trademark life-is-good attitude. She missed his smile, focusing instead on the width of his chest. All three men had muscles, but Cash was something to appreciate. Even his face looked strong with a hard jaw line that flexed when he tried to contain any number of emotions he had to be feeling.

Nicola continued. “My op was blown when you took out your target. I called in for an extraction plan. There was another team there. Not sure what happened or why, but they went after me. I did what I needed to.”

Roman looked up. “And that was?”

“I shot out a window, jumped two stories, and ran into you assholes.” She tried for a smile, a little humor, but got nothing. A-plus for effort though.

Cash said, “You shot a window?”

Roman followed. “And jumped out?”

“Hey, I’m not an asshole. Just so you know.” Rocco laughed. Weird. Cash was always the one laughing in her memories, and now he was without jokes and zingers.

“Guess I’m not what you remember,” Nicola whispered, stealing a glance at Cash.

Roman stood, rubbing his tattoo. It was beautiful, and it was a lie. How did she ever think it was right to hurt them?

“Nicola.” He kissed her head. “That’s enough for me. For now. I’m headed to bed, knowing you’re alive. Best damn thing ever. And tomorrow, we’ll talk about calling Mom and Dad.”