Broken Page 3

  He turned then, those incredible bourbon-colored eyes catching her off guard once again. “We bring different talents to our friendship. I take care of problems.”

  The guy truly underestimated what he had to offer, but it wasn’t her job to fix him. Not by a long shot. “And I do . . . what?”

  “You do research and . . . let me take care of problems.” His grin was intriguing in that it failed to soften his face in the slightest. “I’ve noticed your phone ringing at weird hours, and I’ve also noticed that you tense up in a way that shows you do not want your phone to ring at weird hours. It’s time you told me what’s happening.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s a two-way street, my friend.”

  He pulled into a ’70s-style office building in the middle of nowhere, parking near the door and away from the one flickering streetlight. “We’re not finished with this discussion.”

  She faltered. “I can stay in the truck.”

  He turned again, his dark eyebrows rising. “That’s silly. Why wouldn’t you come inside?”

  She rubbed both hands down her jeans. “I’m a freelance reporter, and your team works for the government. Nobody wants me there.” They were good people on his team, but most feds didn’t want a journalist snooping around their offices.

  For answer, Wolfe jumped out, shut his door, and appeared at her door in a second. “You’re part of the team, Dana.” He helped her out, strong and sure, and butterflies once again zinged through her lower body. Not noticing, he ushered her through the darkness to the old door, which opened easily to reveal a dingy hallway with a couple of closed wooden doors down the way. “You’ve helped on cases.”

  Yeah, but she wasn’t part of the team. The smell of pizza caught her attention, and she perked up, heading for the rickety elevator that accessed the basement. “Well, I could eat.” Her stomach growled. If she’d known there was food, she wouldn’t have tried to stay in the vehicle outside.

  “Me, too.” Once inside, Wolfe leaned against the elevator wall as if he could hold the entire contraption together, and his sigh of relief as the doors opened below was heartfelt. “Someday we’re gonna get stuck in this thing.”

  “Nah. It’ll just drop and land hard.” She stepped out into the vestibule of the depressing basement space, her gaze immediately caught by the German shepherd bounding her way. “Roscoe.” She dropped to hug his furry neck, discreetly wiping marinara sauce off his coat, since he’d obviously snuck a piece of pizza somehow. Then she stood and moved forward, smiling at the two men in the main room, illuminated by old yellow buzzing lights in the ceiling. “Hi.”

  Angus Force, the leader of the ragtag unit, and Malcolm West, their best undercover operative, sat at the four-desk pod in the center of the room with two pizza boxes in front of them. It looked like they’d both healed after the last assignment several weeks ago, in which everyone, including her, had been injured. Neither answered, their gazes squarely on the man behind her.

  Force spoke first, his chiseled jaw going slack. “Are you wearing leather pants?”

  Malcolm snorted, chuckled, and then shook his head. “Please tell us you were at a costume party.”

  Force’s gaze then turned to Dana. “Or is there something kinky going on?” He nudged the pizza box toward her.

  Heat flushed her face, but she moved toward the box. So Wolfe’s team had no clue what he was doing. Figured. “The leather pants weren’t my idea, and his phone gets caught in the back pocket, so don’t ask me what he was thinking.”

  Malcolm reached down and brought up two beers, tossing one to Wolfe and sliding one across the desk to her.

  Force shook his head. “Wolfe? Leather pants?”

  Heat suffused Dana’s back as Wolfe moved closer, reaching around her for a piece of pizza, the underside of his arm brushing hers. “The lady at the department store said they made my butt look good. So I bought them,” he drawled, his breath heating the nape of her neck.

  “She lied,” Force drawled, his eyes narrowing. The guy was a former FBI profiler, one of the best before he’d gone off the rails, and he could probably see past Wolfe’s good ol’ boy facade. To his credit, he didn’t push. Yet, anyway.

  Dana pulled out a chair and sat, munching happily on a slice of pepperoni. Someone had sprung for the good stuff from Palozzi’s.

  Wolfe took the only other vacant seat. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

  Malcolm took a big swallow of his beer. “Raider and Brigid are up north with her dad for the next few days, and our shrink is—”

  “Right here.” Nari Zhang clip-clopped in kitten heels from case room two, her hands full of manila file folders. Her black hair swung around her shoulders, and she’d dressed for the evening meeting in dark jeans and a pale yellow silk shirt, which made her dusky skin glow. “I’ve been going through these and have added notes and profiles where necessary.” She handed the stack to Force and leaned over to secure a piece of veggie pizza. “I think a lot of this is busywork.”

  Force nodded, his jaw hardening. “Yeah. We pissed off our Homeland Defense handlers last month, and apparently they’re trying to get even.” He sighed, tossing a couple of folders toward Wolfe. “We all have assignments, and for now, we’re going to have to play nice.”

  Wolfe tapped his finger on the top folder. “I don’t play nice.”

  “Agreed,” Force said, pushing more folders toward Malcolm. Then he grinned. “The good news is that, with this caseload, I said you needed a research assistant, and we can actually pay Dana to work with you this time. She’s been a valuable asset and hasn’t sold us out, so we’re happy to have her onboard.” He winked at her. “Welcome to the team. Oh. You have to sign a nondisclosure agreement. You know, since you’re a nosy journalist and all.”

  Dana sat back, amusement taking her. The desire to belong to the team, just for a little while, caught her off guard. Working alone did get lonely. “I accept. So long as I can write a story once we’re finished, with your approval.”

  Malcolm chuckled. “I told you she’d say that.”

  Nari nodded, her black eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you did. Also, Dana, everyone who works in the unit has weekly sessions with me. I assume you’re okay with that?”

  Dana stiffened. “I don’t need a shrink.”

  “Amen, sister,” Force muttered beneath his breath.

  Dana caught her words and hastened to add, “Not that there’s anything wrong with counseling. It’s just that I’m fine.”

  Nari smiled. “Then our hour a week will go fast and we can just chat. The requirement is nonnegotiable.” Her eyes hardened as she glanced sideways at Force. “For almost everybody, anyway.”

  Dana took another bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully before turning toward Wolfe, who’d just finished his third slice. “Do you attend counseling once a week?”

  He tipped back his beer, drinking the entire bottle, his throat moving in a way that was blatantly sexy. Finishing, he set it down and accepted a second one from Malcolm. “Yeah. Since I’m fine and don’t need shrinking, Nari and I talk about fashion, the Kardashians, and sometimes the royal family. I’m betting little Archie will be a fantastic polo player.”

  What a smart aleck.

  Nari drew a chair over from its perch against the dented yellowed wall and sat. “I took that bet. I’m going to win.”

  Okay. Two smart alecks.

  Wolfe twisted the cap off the bottle. “Oh, and Dana is moving in with me for a short time while we handle a story that might’ve put her in danger. It’s her story and not a Deep Ops case, and I’ll call you in if we need you. Right now, we don’t. Figured you gossips would like to hear it from me first.”

  Nari sat forward. “What kind of story?”

  How interesting that Wolfe didn’t mention his own case. Dana cut him a look but didn’t rat him out, as he no doubt trusted her to keep silent. She’d agree for now, but if he didn’t let her in, she wouldn’t cover for him indefinitely with the team. Well, proba
bly. She did feel a sense of loyalty to the guy, considering he’d saved her life from a psycho ex-senator the previous month. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it quite yet,” she said, a little primly.

  Force narrowed in on Wolfe. “Does the story explain those ridiculous pants?”

  Frankly, they were kind of sexy on the hard-bodied soldier, but Dana didn’t argue.

  Wolfe nodded. “Yeah, and get used to them. Dana and I might have to go undercover in a couple of sex clubs for her story. Wait until you see her outfit. Meow, as they say.”

  Her jaw dropped open. Plain and simple. She whirled on him, her breath catching. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Tonight was just the beginning.” His eyes gleamed in a way that made her lungs want to stop breathing altogether. “You have another corset, right? If not, we can go shopping. I bet the lady at the leather pants store will give you a deal.”

  She swallowed. What had she just gotten herself into? “Forget the corset. Maybe I’ll go full leather and get my own whip this time.”

  Wolfe chuckled, the sound low and dark, sliding across her skin. “Not a chance. In this game, we go with our strengths. I’m the dom, baby.”

  Everything in Dana flushed hot, head to toe, her body totally betraying her mind. She couldn’t find a word to say, and suddenly her clothes became too tight. She tried to give him a glare, but his face was inscrutable, the look in his eyes one she couldn’t identify but felt in inappropriate places.

  Nari pressed her lips together in a terrible attempt to hide a smile. “Well, now. Maybe we will have something to talk about in our sessions, Dana.”

  Chapter Four

  Wolfe led Dana into his kitchen through the garage, quickly resetting the alarm system he’d installed the previous week. “The code is 1156, and you have to punch it in within twenty seconds of walking into the kitchen, or the noise is frightening.” He gestured her toward the living room. Should he tell her where all the weapons were hidden? “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  She dropped her folders on the round kitchen table that had come with the quaint house. “I can shoot a shotgun, but I haven’t practiced much with handguns.”

  So, no. She didn’t need to know where all the guns were hidden.

  “How about knife fighting or hand to hand?” The woman took chances all the time in her job; surely, she’d gotten some training to protect herself.

  “Not really. I took a couple of self-defense classes in college, but I’ve never fought with a knife.” Her smile kind of ticked him off.

  He crossed his arms and leaned back against the fridge. “When you choose a dangerous type of work, you have a responsibility to look at all the things that could go wrong.” In fact, everyone in every job should look at the dangers around them, for Pete’s sake.

  “I’m still standing,” she said, surveying his house. “I like your place.”

  The home felt different with her in it. More welcoming and somehow brighter. She’d only been there five minutes, and already the rooms seemed warmer with the sweet smell of orange blossoms hanging in the air. He had to shut down that kind of thinking right now. “When we get the chance, I’ll teach you some knife moves. Also, you should learn how to shoot a gun at some point.”

  “Sure. Sounds like fun.” She yawned and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Shaking her would be rude, so he tamped down his irritation. He pointed toward the master bedroom. “Why don’t you get some sleep? The room is yours.”

  She paused and glanced toward the other bedroom and its closed door. “I’m not sleeping with you, Wolfe. The guest room will be fine.”

  He smiled. Man, she was cute. Her blond hair was all ruffled around her shoulders, and her soft green eyes were glazed over and sleepy. She looked as sexy in the worn flannel and jeans as she had in the tight corset. He cleared his throat. “I know. I turned the other bedroom into an office, so I’ll bunk out on the sofa. I end up falling asleep there most nights, anyway.”

  A plaintive meow caught his attention as a miniature kitten strutted out of the master bedroom, his damaged ear twitching. He blinked one green and one blue eye, saw Dana, and beelined to rub against her ankle. They were old friends.

  She picked up the white fur ball and rubbed him against her cheek. “Hey, Kat. I wondered where you were hiding.”

  Lucky cat. Wolfe had rescued him from a park near the office, cleaned him up, and let him pretty much do what he wanted. As he grew, his eyes had gone from all blue to just one blue and one green. It was pretty cool. His food bowl was full, as was his water, so he was content. The little bastard probably would sleep with Dana, so the kitten was one lucky feline.

  “He’s almost too big for my jacket pocket, but not quite.” Wolfe’s leather jacket had hand pockets that were wide enough for the kitten to burrow into, if he so wished. Wolfe tossed several case files onto the table next to Dana’s research.

  Her phone buzzed from her purse, and she sighed, reaching in to stop the noise.

  His patience was close to an end, but he kept his voice mild. “Who is bothering you?”

  “Nobody.” She stretched her neck, the movement both stubborn and sexy—an intriguing combination.

  Heat ticked down his back. “I could take your phone from you, you know.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and challenge filled her intelligent eyes. “But you won’t.”

  She was correct. He wouldn’t take her phone because he didn’t have the right to do so. She wasn’t his, and she never would be. “I want to help.”

  “If I need help, I’ll ask.” She turned for the bedroom, taking the kitten with her, that sweet butt swaying. “Good night, Wolfe.”

  “’Night.” He watched her go, his hands feeling way too empty. When the door shut behind them, he quickly texted information to Brigid so she could track down the two guys in the black truck. As soon as Wolfe took them out, Dana could go back to her safe apartment and his house could go back to being empty and too quiet. Good plan.

  Now what?

  He looked around the comfortable home, which had come furnished. He’d purchased it from Malcolm when Mal had moved into the house next door with his girlfriend, Pippa, who was an amazing cook. In fact, wasn’t there some leftover apple pie in the fridge? Being Pippa’s neighbor came with definite perks.

  He moved toward the refrigerator just as an ominous ding came from a kitchen drawer. He went cold and then moved to it, taking out the untraceable burner phone. “Wolfe,” he answered.

  “Hi, buddy. Rumor has it you’re looking for me.”

  Freezing claws raked Wolfe, and he leaned against the counter, forcing his heart rate to stay normal. “Who dis?” He drawled, nearly choking on the words.

  Gary laughed, the sound slightly off. “Cute. For old time’s sake, I’m gonna give you one chance to fuck off and stop the hunt.”

  “Never.” He’d wondered if Gary Rockcliff would call the phone, the one from their time in the unit, so he’d kept it charged.

  Gary sighed. “We both know I could find you before you find me. I’m better at this.”

  “I’m motivated, Rock,” Wolfe said, listening for any background clues that would tell him where Gary had holed up. Had he been paid from the sale of his stolen drugs yet? If so, shouldn’t he be on an island somewhere drinking rum?

  “Move on, Wolfe.” Gary’s voice turned serious. Deadly. “You keep this up, and I’ll tear through everything and everyone you love before you get a bead on me, and then it’ll be too late. I trained you. You’re not that good. Don’t lose everything I haven’t already taken.”

  Rage burned through Wolfe’s throat. “Do you have any regrets? Those men trusted you. I trusted you.” Sometimes fury could be colder than ice.

  “No. They, and you, made the mistake of getting involved with something you shouldn’t have. If they hadn’t pursued me, they’d be alive. Take a lesson from that, or I’ll take it all.”

  “Well now, there’s the rub.” Wolfe straightened.
“I don’t have anything else to lose. Don’t love anybody or anything.”

  Gary’s chuckle scraped Wolfe’s nerves raw. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  Wolfe blew out air to keep calm. “Why don’t you stop being a coward and just meet me? The two of us? Get it over with.”

  “You and me to the death? You want to beat me until I stop breathing?” Gary almost sounded amused.

  “Yeah.”

  “What if we kill each other?”

  Wolfe rolled his neck. “Okay.” He’d figured that would be the result, anyway.

  “I guess I haven’t taught you everything, then.” For a moment, there was a heavy silence on the line. “Death is easy. Living can be hell. The game is on.” He disengaged the call.

  Wolfe inhaled and lifted his head. “Finally,” he muttered, sliding the phone back into the drawer. He glanced toward the closed bedroom door. If Gary didn’t know where he was, Gary couldn’t have been the one who’d killed Clarke Wellson/Albert Nelson, unless Gary was just messing with his head. Wolfe should just think about the dead guy as Albert from now on. Wolfe had been involved in other missions that might have made him enemies, so he wasn’t positive yet that the guys in that black truck were involved in the Albert Nelson case. It was more likely that Dana’s story had prompted the bullets, so he needed to take care of the threat to her and then get her safely out of his life.

  Gary was coming. Finally.

  Now what? It wasn’t as if Wolfe could sleep, especially now. He moved to the fridge again and then caught sight of Mal out on his back porch through the window. Wolfe instantly pivoted and headed out his glass sliding door, punching in the alarm code as he went. The two homes shared a fenced backyard, and that suited him just fine. He strode across the grass and dropped into a cushioned chair next to Mal, who flipped on the fire in a new patio table.

  “Nice,” Wolfe murmured, kicking his feet out.

  “Pippa bought it yesterday,” Mal said, handing over a glass of whiskey and keeping one for himself. It was summer in Cottage Grove, but nighttime got chilly once in a while, which made for good sleeping if one slept.