Wanted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 8) (5 page)

She lifted a shoulder, seemed to curl in on herself, the ends of her pigtails, one red and one black, brushing the tops of her shoulders. “I don’t know. The doctor said it sometimes happens, even when a woman is on the pill. I guess we’re in the three percent it doesn’t always work for,” she finished in a small voice.

“And the doc, he’s sure?”

A nod. “Blood test and urine test both came back positive. This is real.”

Okay, but…holy fuck. A
baby
. He was going to be a father.

A flare of panic burst inside him and he mentally smothered it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t answer, just stood there staring while his heart slammed against his sternum as though he’d just been trapped alone behind enemy lines.

He wasn’t ready for this. Didn’t know if he’d
ever
be ready for this. They’d talked about maybe having kids one day, but in a casual, way off in the misty future kind of way.

The thick silence in the room finally registered and then it dawned on him that Zoe looked every bit as freaked out as he felt. “Are you… How do you feel about it?” he managed past the sudden restriction in his throat.

“I’m terrified,” she burst out, seeming on the edge of losing it, which freaked him even more, because Zoe rarely cried. “I didn’t plan on this. We’ve only been together a year and I know we’re not ready for this. I don’t even know what to think because I haven’t had time to process it.”

He nodded, right there with her, reeling at the reality of this bombshell.

She started to cry then, silently, wiping the tears away before they could fall, and the sight pierced him. He sat next to her and drew her into his arms. “Hey, don’t,” he began, but she shook her head and cried harder. Wordlessly he held her, not knowing what else to say.

A baby, he thought again in shock. Shit, what the hell did he know about babies? About being a dad? He didn’t even like most people, and he had a well-earned reputation of being a hardass.

No, he was rough, gruff, and he knew more about killing than he did about loving someone. Except where Zoe was concerned, but she was a grown woman, not a helpless infant. God. How was he supposed to raise a kid into a normal, functional human being with that kind of resume?

His careening thoughts shifted to his own sister, a strung-out junkie who’d wound up on the streets because of her drug addiction, willing to do whatever—or whomever—to get her next fix. His parents had repeatedly sent her to rehab, to no avail. Finally they’d resorted to taking her home and giving her a daily dose of meth just to keep her close by so they could monitor her. It infuriated and sickened him that they enabled her habit, but now his mother’s words to him hit home with the force of a roundhouse to the solar plexus.

You’ll never understand what lengths you’ll go to for your child until you become a parent yourself.

Well, he was going to find out firsthand in another few months, wasn’t he?

At that realization, the panic he’d been holding at bay so far suddenly grabbed him by the throat, squeezed until he could barely swallow. He needed to move, wanted to get up and leave until he got himself together but knew it would shatter Zoe if he left right now. She’d take it as evidence that he didn’t want the baby. He didn’t
not
want the baby, but he was still struggling to come to grips with everything.

So he stayed put, refusing to move, and just held her close. His doubts and insecurities were his issues, his demons to battle. He wouldn’t add to the burden Zoe already carried and say them out loud. God, he’d never seen her like this.

Her shoulders shuddered with the force of her muted sobs, and it sliced him up, made him feel even shittier about the way he’d reacted. Even in the aftermath of what she’d endured at the hands of her kidnapper, she’d never fallen apart like this.

It made him frantic to make it better, only this time, he couldn’t. There was no one’s ass he could kick, no target to hunt down on her behalf. He cradled the back of her head with one hand and kept his other arm wrapped securely around her ribs, murmured soothing sounds to her.

Shit
. He mentally cursed himself for being so freaking clueless when it came to comforting her. He’d just been so stunned and well, dismayed, and now he regretted not being able to hide his reaction better. He felt like he’d let her down in the worst way.

The sound of her crying and trying not to broke his heart. Now he understood why she’d been feeling so tired and not herself recently. Damn, he hated to see her so upset.

Say something, dumbass.

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking her back with one hand while he cradled her head to him. “Hey, shhh. It’s gonna be okay. It’ll be okay.” He was mentally shitting his pants right now but he’d be damned if he’d let it show. She was freaked enough as it was, couldn’t be good for her or the baby.

She shook her head, sucked in a shaky breath in between hitching breaths, and he held her closer.

He felt frantic with the need to comfort her.
Do something! Make it better!

“Zo. Come on, we’re fine. We’re
fine
,” he emphasized, speaking next to her ear.

At that she stilled, struggled to get herself back under control. Her whole body jerked as she fought back more tears.

Clay rubbed her back some more, waited for her to calm, catch her breath. And when she finally raised her head to stare up at him through swollen, eyeliner and mascara-smeared eyes, the vise that had been clamped around his chest and gut suddenly eased.

She searched his eyes, worry etched into every line of her face. “What are we going to do? I feel like it’s my fault, like maybe I screwed up with my pills or—”

“No.” He wiped gently at the black smears beneath her eyes. God, he loved her. Would do anything for her. “I’m as much at fault as you are.” Wait. That sounded awful, even to him. Dammit…

He shook his head, frustrated that the right words weren’t there, the need to reassure her clawing at him. Part of him wanted to shut the hell up before he made this worse, but he knew he had to say something positive and encouraging.

“What I mean is, I love you and I’m not going anywhere. It’s an…adjustment for us both, but look what we’ve already been through together. This isn’t nearly as tough as all that, right?” Logically speaking, anyway.

“Yeah,” she answered shakily.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. But oh my God, a
father
. To a helpless, innocent baby. He’d never held one but babies were so tiny. What if he did something wrong and freaking broke it?

Or—Mother of Christ, what would he do if it was a
girl
?

He schooled his features into a calm expression, refused to let Zoe see how much he was rattled, especially by that last part. But even he knew he was failing that mission big time.

Her rock. You gotta be her rock, dickhead.

He could lose his shit later on when he was alone.

Man up, sailor.

He was saved from saying something that would likely make things worse by a knock at the door. Zoe stiffened and wiped her face as Clay jumped up and headed over to answer it. Through the peephole he saw Tuck standing out in the hallway.

Stifling a sigh, he opened the door. “Hey. What’s up?”

“I texted you but you didn’t answer.” Tuck’s gaze shifted from him to Zoe, and a slight frown creased his brow as he looked at his cousin. “Is uh…everything okay?” he asked her.

“Fine,” Zoe said with a forced smile that made Clay’s agitation worse, though there was no way Tuck could miss that she’d been crying.

Tuck looked back at him. “Ah, sorry to interrupt, but DeLuca just called. The director’s requested a meeting with us all at headquarters.”

Now? Clay expelled a sigh, resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair. The timing couldn’t be worse. “How long do we have?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Shit. Barely enough time to get over there. But what was he going to say, no? “Fine.”

“I told Celida I’d catch a ride with you, so she took my truck home.”

He grunted in reply, annoyed as hell with this situation. “Gimme a minute.” Leaving Tuck in the doorway, he went into the bedroom to grab his wallet, keys and phone.

When he turned around Zoe was standing inside the doorway, hands cupping her elbows as she folded her arms across her middle. Her expression was uncertain, the worry in her gaze tearing at him. He hated leaving her without resolving things, but he had to go.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said, crossing the room to pull her into a hug.

She leaned into him, put her arms around his waist, but he could feel the tension in her, the uncertainty. “It’s okay,” she murmured in a flat tone. “Call me when you’re done?”

He pulled away, nodded. “I’ll come home right after.” Even he knew they had to talk more about this.

“Okay.” Her eyes searched his, full of apprehension and something else he couldn’t define. She was definitely holding something else back, he knew it. And it was making him nuts that he had to wait to find out what it was.

He put on an encouraging smile. “It’ll be okay, raven. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Frustrated and feeling more than a little helpless, he kissed her lightly on the mouth and left.

As luck would have it, Zoe did show up at the coffee shop the next morning.

Except she wasn’t alone.

Amanda ducked down lower in the driver’s seat of her rental minivan, her pulse picking up as the two women entered through the front door. She’d finally found her.

The large sunglasses concealed Amanda’s eyes and the hat covered her hair, which she’d shoved beneath it. Not that she was worried about Zoe recognizing her—they’d never met before, although Amanda knew all about her. But this place would have security cameras and she didn’t want any intelligence agencies being able to trace her once this job was done. The FBI and probably NSA had to be tracking her now, or at least trying to. She had to be extra careful not to get caught.

Using a pair of binoculars she made sure no one was looking her way, then held them to her eyes and studied her target through the large windows along the rear of the coffee shop. The two women were chatting, their backs to Amanda. Zoe’s friend was slightly shorter, with an hourglass figure. And she dressed like a normal human being instead of like some sideshow freak.

No surprise, Zoe was in full Goth mode again today. Black, ruffled Victorian-style skirt showing beneath the hem of her equally weird jacket. Today it appeared her hair was dyed red on the right side of her head and black on the other, and she had her trademark heavy black eye makeup and bright red lip thing going as per usual. Ridiculous.

But then the other woman with her turned around, and Amanda’s heart sunk. She knew that face. The scar on her right cheek was a dead giveaway.

Special Agent Celida Morales. Former Marine, now in the domestic terrorism division of the FBI.

But she was also the fiancée of Brad Tucker, one of the HRT’s team leaders.

Amanda lowered the binoculars, the wheels in her head turning. As she reached for her cell phone, the dread faded and an idea took shape. This wasn’t what she’d originally planned, but there might be an opportunity here.

She dialed Dominic, waited impatiently for the call to go through. He picked up on the second ring. “I’ve got her,” she said without preamble. “I’m at a coffee shop about twenty minutes from Quantico. But she’s with a female FBI agent—who just happens to be engaged to another HRT member.”

“What about the guys, are any of them around?”

“No. How soon can you get here?” This could be perfect.

He gave an annoyed sigh. “Do you even know if the team is in town?”

Did he think she was a total idiot? “Yes. They were in Alaska until a couple days ago and my contact said they’re back in town.”

“You trust him?”

“No reason not to.” After fucking him on and off for the past week she’d promised to pay him a small amount of the reward if he came through for her with decent intel. A fair trade, as far as she was concerned.

“I still don’t know about targeting one of the females to get to the team. That’s not gonna get us the money. And it might just get us captured or killed. ”

Not any female.
Zoe
. “It’s the only way to find them,” she insisted, stubbornly sticking to her plan. Zoe had to be part of the setup.

A pause. “I can be there in about thirty minutes.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Are you insane? They won’t be here in thirty minutes. Where the hell are you?”

“Hang on.” There was a sleepy female murmur in the background.

Amanda set her jaw. “We’re on the brink of doing this job, and you’re busy getting laid?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” he shot back. “I was out all night doing recon, and I’m going back out shortly. Look, just follow one of them then, and see where they go. I’m heading out now. If one of them goes home, we’ll have a location to stake out. I’ll be able to meet you where they stop next.”

She didn’t have much choice at the moment. “Fine. But get rid of whoever that is and wait for my call. This could be our lucky day.” This time she hung up on him before he could answer.

The minutes seemed to crawl by as she waited for Zoe and Celida to come out of the shop. Her plan had been to take Zoe alone, but…

She thought of the pistol tucked into the glove compartment, briefly considered trying to get a shot off now. No. Too risky. It was broad daylight, there were too many people around, and Celida was well trained. Far better trained with a weapon than Amanda, and there was no doubt the female agent would be armed.

No. She should wait. Stick to the original plan, lock down an address so Dominic could come and take care of business while she stood watch, ready to grab her prey.

Tamping down her impatience, Amanda waited while the women climbed into a silver sedan and pulled out of the parking lot. She waited a few seconds, let two cars get between them, then followed.