Crossing Lines by Adrienne Giordano

19

At six a.m.,after a night of limited sleep for both of them, due to stress reduction in the form of banging the hell out of each other, Shane unlocked the bar’s back door.

One thing he hadn’t planned for the day was dealing with Jonathan Sullivan. Particularly after only a few hours of sleep. The man tried his patience on a normal day. In this circumstance? He’d need a good combat nap before the meeting later this morning.

The beep of the security system snapped him back to his pre-Faith life and his morning routine of being a small-business owner.

Quickly, he stepped inside and flipped the door lock behind him. After the botched Brutus plan, he had to assume his cover was blown. Something that made being here one of the many risks he’d taken since Faith came along. As with his apartment, he shouldn't be anywhere near the bar. But he had a business to run and employees to pay.

He made a mental note to start cross-training his bookkeeper on the payroll system in case, you know, he got hit by a bus or took a double tap to the head by an internationally known assassin.

What a damned life.

He punched in the security code silencing the BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. Maddening. that sound, but he’d purposely made it loud enough to hear from the kitchen.

Employees wouldn't start showing up for at least another three hours, so he reset the alarm. Just in case said assassin tried to break in.

By the time everyone showed up, he’d be gone. This mission was costing him a boatload in overtime, but if his cover was blown, his staff was in danger.

A week ago, he'd been settled into a normal — at least somewhat — existence. Now, after watching that Challenger explode, he refused to go back to his apartment or Faith’s and these fucking hotels were draining his emergency fund.

Just as he got to his desk chair, his phone rang. His mind immediately went to Faith, whom he'd left in that giant king-size bed they’d made great use of. He’d left a note this time. Points to him.

He grinned like an idiot. He couldn't help himself. She made him feel . . . something. Something that, every time he put hands on her, made his chest open up.

Hope did that. Faith believed Brutus’s laptop was their ticket to freedom. Their get-out-of-jail-free card. As much as he’d like to buy in, he wouldn’t get ahead of this thing. He’d learned to focus on the present and that meant getting his employees paid.

The phone rang again, kicking him from his mind travel. He slid it from the front pocket of his jeans. Trevor. At six in the morning? What the hell?

He punched the screen. “Hey. What's up?”

“Gotta talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“I'm driving around the corner. About to pull in the alley. Come outside and hop in.”

Jesus Hotel Christ. He was here? Never once had Trevor come to the bar. Not once. Bad enough Dusty had broken that rule by stealing his goddamned cheese, now Trev too? Since Faith showed up, all the rules had gone out the window. That had to change.

Shane hustled back down the hallway, set the alarm and slipped outside to where Trevor pulled into the alley in a Honda Shane didn’t recognize. At least Trevor had the good sense to wear a ballcap.

Shane slid into the passenger seat. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“At six in the morning, who's gonna see me?”

“Maybe a psychotic assassin?”

Trevor pulled to the end of the alley and shot Shane a glance before hooking a right turn. “Maybe you should be asking yourself the same question. Why are you here?”

“Payroll. Everything is on my desktop. How’d you know I was here?”

“I tracked your phone. And it’s time for you to invest in a laptop, my friend.”

With all the running he’d been doing, not a bad suggestion. “You shouldn't be here. And the tracking app is for emergencies.”

“I needed to talk to you. Privately. I wasn't followed.”

That he knew of. Trevor cruised down the block, making a left and then a right down the next alley, weaving through the maze while the two of them frantically checked their mirrors. Nothing behind them.

“You could've called me,” Shane said.

“Could have. Like I said, I wanted privacy.”

And, man oh man, Shane had no doubt about that message. Whatever Trev had to say, he didn’t want Faith overhearing it.

Shane rolled one hand. “Say what you have to say.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Whoa. What the fuck?Shane turned, angling his body to face Trevor. “About?”

“Cut the crap. You know. She’s bad news. Everything has gone to hell since she showed up. She’ll take all of us down.”

“It's not your business.”

“It sure the fuck is. You and Dusty made it my business when you decided to help her.”

“And that gives you permission to butt into my personal business?”

Trev eased to a stop at a traffic light and took the opportunity to meet Shane’s eye. “When it might get me killed? Bet your ass it does. Jesus, Shane. Who the hell are you right now?”

Shane turned front again, gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to argue, to defend himself and insist Faith was more than a convenient lay, what was the point? Trevor was right. The three of them — Shane, Dusty and Trevor — had been allies for two straight years. More than that, they'd been friends. Family.

Dammit. So many mistakes. Shane wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his forehead and squeezed. How had this thing gone off the rails so fast? He should've walked away. When Dusty sent her to him, he should've walked away.

What a load of nonsense. From that first moment he'd seen those soulful eyes and the bruise on her face, he'd seen something in her. Survival. Desperation. The need for protection. Everything about her that day had triggered him and now he'd put it all on the line.

For her.

“It's not what you think,” Shane said.

The light changed and Trevor hit the gas, angling around a cabbie picking up a customer. “I don't know what I think. All I see is my friend, who's spent two years making sure he never slips up, suddenly risking all kinds of crazy shit.”

“She's different. She needs help.”

“So this is what? You playing hero?” Trev shook his head. “Come on, Shane.”

“She gets this life. The constant paranoia and checking your six. All the goddamn time waiting for someone to get the drop on you. She understands what that feels like.”

“Now you're in love?”

Whoa.Nobody said anything about love. “Hell no. But I enjoy her company. Yeah, I'll admit that. What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing. If she were anyone else. This won't work. You know it.”

He did know it. From the beginning he'd been reminding himself. Particularly now. The very best they could hope for was eliminating Brutus before all of their covers were blown.

“You gotta end it,” Trevor said. “Too dangerous.”

Shane cocked his head. “For who? You? This is my life you’re screwing with.”

Trevor glanced over at him and snorted. “And this is my life you’re screwing with.”

Shane peered out the window where a burnt orange sky promised sunshine ahead. He’d dragged his friends into this mess. Still, the balls on Trevor right now pissed Shane off. “Fine,” he said. “You're right. I shouldn't have involved you. I’ll own that. I’m sorry.”

What he wouldn’t apologize for was Faith. For allowing himself to want companionship.

“I don’t want your apology. I want you alive, man. Forget about Dusty and me. Are you willing to risk everything for her? Just walk away from the life you've built?”

Shane let out a sarcastic huff. “It's not such a great life.”

“Bullshit. You own a business, got a roof over your head and you’re breathing. Beats the alternative.”

Maybe. He faced his friend again. “What if I want more?”

“We all want more. You don't think Dusty and I want that? Hell, maybe someday we'll get it. We all deserve a family. In my opinion, not that you asked for it, this woman will wreck you. Probably already has if you’re blown.”

This conversation was going nowhere and Shane knew his friend well enough to understand they’d never find common ground. Trevor was dug in. And so was Shane. He pointed out the window. “Hook a right here. I need to get back and do payroll.”

“So that's it? You're just gonna go do payroll.”

“Yeah. I'll think about what you said. And from now on, where Faith is concerned, you and Dusty are out. I won’t involve you again.”

According to the website,the Chicago Hyatt Regency had the honor of being the largest hotel in downtown Chicago. Steps from the Riverwalk, the building’s location offered short trips to museums, Millennium Park or shopping on the Magnificent Mile.

None of which Faith would be doing today.

Maybe soon.

About to knock on the door of the room Sully had directed her to, she paused with her hand in mid-air. Shane stood beside her, looking every inch the average Joe — and that was saying something considering his size — in jeans, a white T-shirt and a battered Cubs hat.

He held his hands out. “Why the hesitation?”

“Are you ready for this? I mean, to play nice with Sully?”

He snorted. “Ready as I’ll ever be. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.”

Quite possibly the understatement of the century.

Taking a breath, she prayed she wouldn’t have to break up a smackdown and rapped on the door. Seconds later, it swung open. Sully stood there, typically dressed in a freshly ironed Oxford shirt tucked into equally neat khakis. Polished loafers and matching belt only amplified his neatness.

Faith supposed his military habits hadn’t quite left him.

His hair though. He might be slacking there because those thick brown locks were at least half an inch longer than usual and grazing the top of his ears.

He smiled down at her. If she knew how to read people, she’d say there might be a hint of relief in that smile.

Not wasting time, he waved them in. “Come in.”

Once behind closed doors, Sully extended his hand to Shane. “We’ve had our differences, but it’s good to see you.”

Shane, being Shane, grunted, but shook the man’s hand. Faith sighed.

They stepped into a suite bigger than her DC apartment and double the size of her current home. Floor-to-ceiling windows she’d cut a bitch for overlooked the downtown skyline. Too bad they weren’t here for the view.

On the couch sat another man, maybe early thirties and wearing John Lennon glasses. His sandy blond hair dipped below his jawline, reinforcing the whole Lennon vibe.

“This is Joel. He’s one of our analysts. Joel, meet Faith and Shane.”

Handshakes complete, Faith dug the laptop from her backpack and handed it over. “As I told Sully — Special Agent Sullivan — it’s password protected.”

Joel set the laptop on the coffee table in front of him, then took another laptop from his own backpack.

“I’ll take a look. I should be able to get into it.”

A man of confidence. Excellent. Faith nodded, then casually slipped an external hard drive from her bag. They’d made sure to pick that baby up on the way over. “I’ll need a backup once you get in there.”

Before accepting the hard drive, Joel peered up at Sully who gave a slight nod.

He motioned Shane and Faith to follow him to the counter-height table and chairs near the kitchenette on the other side of the room

They took the two seats on one side, leaving the opposite open for Sully. If he tried a power move by taking one of the chairs at either end of the table she might have to blast him.

With two alphas, that would be a hot mess.

Sully grabbed three waters from the mini-fridge and took the seat across from her.

Thank you, smart man.

“Joel is good.” He handed over the drinks. “It might take him awhile though. Bring me up to speed — in detail — on how you came to be in possession of the laptop.”

“You sure you want to know?”

This from Shane.

Sully gave him a hard, direct stare. Here we go…

“I’m sure. And I want the truth. I’ll figure out what to do with it later.”

Faith held up her hands. Time to state the obvious to Shane and Sully in case the rampant testosterone drowned their good sense. “Everyone here is going to play nice, understood? We don’t know what we’ll find on that computer, but it could be important. We’ll need to work together. No pissing matches because you two are holding grudges.”

Sully shrugged. “It’s Shane who has the issue.”

Sigh.

“Anyway,”she said. “The laptop. We got it last night.”

“You’re sure it’s Brutus’s?”

“Positive. We stole it from his room.”

Sully’s only reaction was a slight raising of his eyebrows. Yes, fella, we broke into the man’s room.

When she’d called him from the cemetery the prior night, Faith had given Sully the diluted version of events. Now, if they expected his help, she’d have to tell him everything. Blow by nasty blow.

When she’d finished, Sully drummed his fingers on the table. “You’ve been busy.”

“Trying to get shit done,” Shane said, “after the company cut another of their own loose.”

Not bothering to hide it, Faith kicked him under the table. Hard.

“Ow. Shit. That hurt.”

“Good.”

She pointed at Sully. “Do not respond to that or I’ll kick you too.” She faced Shane. “Seriously. Knock it off or I’ll boot you out of here.”

Sufficiently chastised, he sat back. At least he wasn’t pouting.

Sully kept his gaze on her. “Okay. I’ll get into what the local PD has on the hotel room incident and bury it. For now, we have his laptop. Maybe it’ll contain something we can use against Alfaro. What do you wanna do?”

She cocked her head. What the hell did that mean? “About?”

“About your new identity.” He peered over at Shane. “Can you get her set up again? If not, I’ll see what I can do on my end.”

Wait one second, boys. “Um, hello? I’m sitting right here. Nobody is getting me set up.”

Sully all but gawked. “You have to leave Chicago. He knows you’re here. And now you’ve really pissed him off by stealing his laptop. By now, Alfaro may even know. He already wants your head. Starting over is the only way.”

Faith shook her head. “I’m not running.”

The admission sounded crazy, even to her. When she’d arrived in Chicago, desperate for help, all she’d wanted was to hide. To start over, in any way possible, and stay out of Alfaro’s reach.

Now? The man clearly knew where and who she was and . . . no. Not running. She looked over at Shane, who studied her with those sparkly blue eyes that somehow gave her, the one constantly on edge, sanctuary.

“Listen,” he said and she immediately put a hand up.

Whenever someone started a sentence with that word, it was not good. “Don’t say it.”

“What? That he’s got a point. At least get out of town until the heat is off.”

So much for not saying it. “And what about you? We don’t know yet if you’ve been compromised.”

“I have a business to run.”

“Oh, I see. So, it’s okay for you to stay, but not me? No. That’s not happening. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

Across the table, Sully’s gaze ping-ponged between them as he clearly tried to figure out if she and Shane were . . . whatever they were. She couldn’t call it a relationship. Not that she had much experience there. But they were, well, good.

Really good.

And that was something.

Sully sat forward, drumming his fingers again. A habit she’d seen many times when he pondered a situation. “So, what’s your plan then?”

“I don’t know. I won’t spend my life running. When we found out Brutus was here, we were hoping to…”

She wouldn’t say it. Didn’t need to. Eliminating Alfaro’s assassin helped everyone.

“Whatever,” she said. “The plan has changed. I won’t live every day on the run. I need to see what’s on that laptop. If it’s enough to get Alfaro out of power or locked up, Shane and I might both be free.”

“Even locked up, he’s got power.”

“He won’t survive a day,” Shane said. “The drug lords won’t let him. I was inside that compound. Alfaro lets the cartels operate unimpeded. He gets a healthy cut of the profits and everyone is happy. If he’s arrested, the cartels know he’ll sell them out to save himself. No question.”

“Huh,” Sully said. “Shane and I finally agree on something. I can’t share a lot, but we wouldn’t be sorry to see Brutus or Alfaro gone. As you know, they’ve been thorns in the backside.”

“So,” Faith drew out the word, “if there’s evidence on the laptop, the agency will help us?”

“Depending on what it is, yes. Anything against Alfaro only aids us in getting him out of power.”

“Out of power won’t be enough,” Shane said. “We need him in a Venezuelan prison. If we get that done, it’s over for him. And after Brutus blew his assignment with Faith, he’s probably next on Alfaro’s hit list. He’s gotta be in the wind by now.”

Over.

God, she could taste it. That one little word gave her hope and a vision of a future. Driving on a summer day, top down on a convertible. Volunteering at a shelter somewhere. Working at the university and living in her little apartment six blocks from Shane’s bar. Walking into said bar and ordering one of those cheddar burgers she’d heard about.

No hiding.

A life.

She pushed back from the table, slid off the chair and tucked it back under the table. “Gentlemen, let’s just say it. We need that son of a bitch dead.”