

Deadly Exposure

Double Down book 1

## Lisa Phillips

Copyright 2019. Lisa Phillips

All rights reserved.

Cover design Lisa Phillips

Photos: Shutterstock

# Chapter 1

Norfolk, VA

Master Chief Bradley Harris did his best to disguise the limp in his stride. The man walking beside him was an old friend. Steve Preston led him down a wide hallway, gesturing as they went. "We have a gun range, workout room, a movie theater and a down room with bunks. A couple of the guys live out of town, so they sleep here if they don't have the time to get home. The warehouse on the north side is for mock-ups."

Bradley nodded. His SEAL team ran through mission scenarios set up to look like the building they'd be breaching. It was pretty standard operating procedure. But still, there was obviously money invested here. Not just a government budget at work. "It's quite the facility."

"My accountant would agree with you." Steve grinned. "He says I give him hernias."

Bradley chuckled. "It's impressive."

"The garage has four SUVs, two compact vehicles and a van. The plane is in a private hangar at Richmond. We sign each of them out as needed. Missions are dished out based on skill set, availability of team members, and the number of personnel the op requires."

"How many guys on the team?"

"Six, including me, plus one female operator. And my assistant, who handles all the paperwork."

This wasn't an interview, per se, but Steve had outlined the benefits packet. Bradley had weeks left in his service with the Navy. It was past time to start thinking about the rest of his life.

"How's the senator these days?"

Bradley glanced at Steve. The man hid his interest well, but Bradley had been answering questions about Rachel's availability and situation for longer than he cared to remember. "Good, as far as I know."

"Gonna see her while you're home?"

Bradley shrugged. "She wants me to come over later."

Steve nodded, something knowing in his eyes.

Had the man told Rachel that Bradley was in town? He wanted to believe his sister would just ask him, but figured her use of intelligence-gathering tactics wasn't unprecedented.

Would seeing her mean seeing Alexis? He figured not, since the two former best friends were estranged these days. He could stop by and have a late dinner with his sister—and not discuss Alexis.

"The team members on campus are in a meeting right now. Want me to introduce you?"

Bradley nodded. Steve led him down the hall and stopped by a door. Above it a red light was illuminated.

Steve opened the door into a six-by-six closet lined with hooks, a door on the other side. A TV screen mounted high on the wall had a list of six names—call signs probably—beside each of which was a score. It shifted constantly, the top two battling for number one. Half of the hooks held what looked like futuristic guns, along with various harnesses, vests and head lamps.

Steve tossed him a headlamp and Bradley realized it wasn't a headlamp at all. The strap was similar, but the circles on the front and back had a sensor in the middle. "Front and back of your head."

"Headshots?" Bradley realized then what the guns were for. He slipped the strap on his head.

Steve nodded, then handed him another, larger strap. Two sensors. "Heart—front and back."

Four spots to kill. Or, in this case, tag the victim.

Bradley tried to process what was happening, even as he tugged the larger strap onto his chest. This was some kind of icebreaker.

Steve did the same with his sensors. Was this just for fun or part of an unofficial "interview"? He wasn't sure if Steve, or anyone who worked for him, knew what regular people did for fun. And yet, this was exactly the kind of fun he was accustomed to as a SEAL. And these were definitely his kind of people.

Steve handed over a gun, then what looked like a knife. Bradley touched the blade and it retracted into the handle. His old friend lifted a finger. "One point for a kill shot, three for a knife strike."

"Hit the sensors?" Earn points. Win the game.

Steve nodded. "You're tagged, you're out."

Bradley swung the gun strap over his shoulder and tested the weight of the knife in his hand. Strike one of the four sensors? This was going to be fun.

Steve pressed a button on the wall beside another door, and spoke into it. "Two more coming in."

He shoved the door open. On the other side it was completely dark, the air full of smoke. Strobe lights flashed periodically in no pattern Bradley could detect.

His ankle smarted, but he wasn't being asked to run a marathon. "How many targets?"

Steve grinned. "All of them."

Then he disappeared into the smoke.

Bradley stood in the door and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. These people were the best of the best in private security operations. Was this what he wanted to do after he left the Navy?

Something moved in the dark.

Bradley chuckled, and then commenced hunting.

Two hours later he exited the building, sweat-soaked and grinning. Probably every day working here wouldn't be that much fun. But if this was how they blew off steam, he was all in.

Bradley pulled out the keys to his truck. He clicked the locks, but before he pulled the door open, he stopped. Glanced around.

Nothing amiss.

He headed across town to a burger joint he'd always loved. A milkshake was definitely in order.

At a stop light two miles from the hole-in-the-wall place, Bradley pulled up to the white line and waited for the light to turn green. He raised the volume on the radio and tapped his finger on the steering wheel in time to the beat.

Two doors slammed. He glanced out the back window of his truck. Men walked from the van behind him toward his truck, dressed in black fatigues and carrying rifles.

A woman screamed.

Someone honked their horn.

Bradley glanced at the light. Still red. Cross traffic was streaming by.

Guns raised.

He had a pistol in his glove box, but what would that solve?

Call the police? He left his phone in his back pocket. A passenger in one of the surrounding cars was likely already on the phone with emergency services.

The first gunman reached his window. Another on the passenger side. Bradley held the wheel. Looked at the light—still red. The gun raised, pointed at the glass beside his face.

Bradley hit the gas pedal.

Bullets grazed the sides of the bed as he sped away. A Buick driver honked. He swerved but still caught the front corner of the car.

Behind him the gunmen raced back to their van, determined to give chase. Bradley had grown up on these streets. He lost them quickly enough in a back alley, then retraced his route. All the while wondering who that was.

And whether they'd been sent to kidnap him.

Or kill him.

# Chapter 2

Georgetown, VA

The door swung open and Alexis braced. Secret Service agent Alan Turner frowned with those bushy gray brows. He didn't have to say anything, not when that twist of his mustache conveyed plenty. He still didn't like her.

"She asked me to come." Why she said that, Alexis didn't know. She had nothing to explain to this man.

Alan stepped back, opening the door. She read what he didn't say in the line of his body. He was charged with Senator Rachel Harris's protection. And that meant, if necessary, he would take Alexis down. And here she thought they'd been friends.

Then again, she thought she'd been friends with all the agents on Rachel's detail—back when they'd spent their days side-by-side, serving the office of the senator. Doing their part for the country. Only months, but a lifetime ago now. Every day since, like a bad dream.

Alexis squared her shoulders. She clutched her purse tight against her side like a shield. Not the designer label she'd carried just a few months ago. No, this one was a knock off she'd bought for eight dollars at a thrift store. Like everything she owned now.

As she passed Alan, he muttered a dirty word.

From down the hall, a woman gasped. "Agent Turner. I expect better from you."

Alexis watched her friend emerge from the living room of her Georgetown brownstone home, shaking her head. Like it was possible for Rachel to be shocked. Striding toward them on four-inch heels even though she'd been home for hours. Her dress just as pristine as when she'd put it on that morning. "You do not speak to my friends that way."

Alexis didn't look back at Alan. She kept her focus on Rachel as he said, "My apologies, Senator Harris." But he didn't apologize to Alexis.

The Secret Service agent shut the front door and Rachel sighed. Alan had opted to go outside, rather than be in the house with Alexis. No doubt the rest of the agents felt the same way. Though, some would think she was there to harm Rachel. They'd stick close to make sure Alexis didn't do anything.

She was a pariah now. An outcast. Did she have that scarlet letter "A" on her chest? Maybe she should.

Rachel's gaze softened.

Don _'t._

She opened her arms, and tears filled her eyes.

Alexis walked into the embrace of the woman who'd ruined her.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Alexis shook her head, an unladylike snort emerging from her throat.

Rachel cocked her head to one side. "Living room?"

Alexis sighed and followed her friend from the hall. They sat opposite each other. Rachel on a wingback chair, Alexis perched on a beautiful couch that was seriously uncomfortable. Kind of like shoes. The prettier they were, the more they hurt.

Didn't matter. She'd been uncomfortable for months now. Living the consequences of both their choices.

She set her purse on the floor, trying to figure out what Rachel had brought her here to say. Alexis wanted to demand the reason, but that never worked with Rachel. She would get to it in her own time, and no one was going to push her into it early. She was a senator.

An open bottle of red wine and two glasses sat on the low Victorian table.

"Would you like a glass?" Rachel poured one, and offered it.

Alexis shook her head. "No, thank you."

"It's not like you'll be driving home."

The jab sliced through her, but Rachel hadn't meant it as a slight. It was a statement of fact, nothing more. Rachel rarely caught the implications of her words and she didn't bother too much with emotional subtext.

"I'd just rather not."

Rachel shrugged one slender shoulder and took a healthy sip. When she was done, she studied Alexis. "It's good to see you."

She nodded. "You, too."

"I've gone through six assistants in four months, Lex." Rachel chuckled. She shook her head so that her hair shifted around her face in waves. That four hundred dollar haircut was worth every penny. "They aren't as good as you. Not one of them is even close."

Alexis allowed herself a small smile at that. She had been a darn good assistant. "I'm sorry."

Though, she couldn't say what exactly she was sorry for. Not today, when they'd barely spoken in weeks. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Rachel set her nearly empty wine glass down. "I thought I might need liquid courage, but that might've backfired." She touched her forehead with slender fingers, her grandmother's gold watch sliding down her forearm.

"That's okay." It wasn't like Alexis had anywhere to be.

Her purse buzzed. She slid her outdated iPhone out and looked at the cracked screen.

Did she tell you what it's about yet?

Alexis quickly replied.

Not yet.

It was sweet of him to be concerned. Lincoln had been one of the few friends who hadn't turned his back on her in the past six months. Ever since the story had broken over social media and both Rachel and Alexis realized what the fallout would be, everyone in their sphere had chosen a side.

Most had gone with Rachel, who'd valiantly tried to make it seem like not that big of a deal to her. To her credit, she'd tried to maintain the friendship they'd had. A friendship that had stretched from second grade, when Alexis's father was stationed in Virginia, all the way through college and Rachel's race for the Senate.

Years and years. Now all they had was awkwardness.

Why had she even come?

Rachel cleared her throat. "Lex..." She worked her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I think we're past the point of needing to be hesitant with each other. You can just say it, Rach."

Of course, then she'd have to listen to her own advice. Who knew what would come pouring out of her mouth if she started speaking the truth? Alexis didn't even want to know.

God, don _'t let me give in to my bitterness._ He'd helped her hold her tongue for six months. To keep quiet instead of screaming the truth from the rooftops. She had no doubt in her mind that He could do that for her now.

The quiet time she'd had with the Lord through this season had been sweet and beautiful. But why had it come at such a high cost? She was trying to be okay with the fact He wanted this time with her. That God was going to use it to grow her through this uninterrupted time. She'd been stripped down. And while God hadn't caused it, He certainly wouldn't waste it, either.

Give me peace.

Rachel said, "I'm so glad you came. I know it's been hard for you, and you'll never know how truly sorry I am for that."

Alexis shook her head. "It wasn't your fault."

"But—"

"We agreed. We _both_ made that choice. Don't backtrack now." She _needed_ Rachel to stand firm. For both of them. Otherwise, it was all a waste. And Alexis would hate that more than anything else.

"I'm so—" Rachel's voice broke, and tears filled her eyes. "I shouldn't have let you do it."

Alexis fought her natural response, refusing to give in to the pull of her friend's emotions. That was a spiral Alexis didn't want to go down. They'd both been a mess at Rachel's parent's funeral. Ever since the moment Rachel cried, that switch was flipped in Alexis as well. Tears were inevitable. For years now, she'd loved this woman as a friend. And as the sister she'd never had. When Rachel hurt, Alexis did.

And when one of them was destroyed...

"We should have found another way."

"It's done." Alexis swallowed. "Please just let it be done."

"How is it going, finding a job?"

She shrugged, not wanting to talk about that. No one wanted to hire someone who'd been publicly shamed the way she had. The crucifixion she'd suffered online afterwards had driven Alexis into isolation, until Lincoln of all people had forced her to reconnect. She had no social media accounts these days, but still every meeting was a new experience for someone to laugh at her.

For once, she wanted to be invited in for an interview on the strength of her resume, and not just so whoever it was could ask her all the dirty secrets of her private life that had come to light.

Rachel swiped a manicured finger under one eye. "This is all my fault."

"It's for the best." The alternative being Rachel's career destroyed, and her reputation in tatters. Alexis would never have let that happen.

Instead, Rachel's integrity had taken a hit. Her stance on family values had been tarnished. Firing Alexis had been like slicing off an infected limb—at least according to the court of public opinion. The sentence—Alexis had been banished. Rachel had come out looking like the victim of an assistant with no moral compass.

Alexis would do it again. Even with everything that had happened, she would do it again every time. Anytime. For Rachel.

"I want to fix it. That's why I asked you to come." Rachel leaned over the table and set her hand on Alexis's. "I can't stand what's happened to you. And I want to make things right."

"No." How could she think that would be good? "You don't need to do that, Rachel. Not for me." _I'm not worth it._ She wanted to add those words, but knew they weren't true. Despite how she felt.

That was the old her talking. The child that had to prove herself to demanding parents who accepted nothing less than perfection.

Her father had publicly disowned her after it happened, completely cut her off. Alexis didn't even know what her mother thought. She wouldn't answer the phone so many times that Alexis had finally quit calling.

The parents she really needed right now, but couldn't have in her life? Rachel's.

Alexis said, "If you let the truth get out, people will know what really happened. The video will get air time all over again, and this will never be over. There's no point trying to change what happened. You can't fix my life now. We both made a choice, and as far as I'm concerned it was the right one."

Rachel just stared at her, tears in her eyes.

"If you try to explain, the fallout will be catastrophic."

"But you're hurting."

Alexis blinked back tears. She picked up her purse and stood. "It's for the best."

"Don't leave." Rachel jumped up and came around to take Alexis's arm. "Please. Lex. Stay and visit. I need your advice on an upcoming bill."

Alexis gritted her teeth. "Maybe another time would be better."

"Please. It won't take long. I just want to run some things by you, for old time's sake." Rachel's pleading face had convinced Alexis to help her many times. Things weren't much different now. Alexis still wanted to help her friend. But in order to do so, she'd have to bridge the chasm that now stretched between them.

"That's probably not a good idea."

Rachel let her go, and Alexis turned away. To the sideboard of framed photos. Pictures of Rachel, Alexis, and Rachel's brother Bradley. The three of them—a family. The distance now between her and Rachel was nothing compared to what Alexis and Bradley had done to each other. Another lifetime ago.

They'd barely spoken since. Rachel had known something was wrong, but not what had changed.

Alexis had genuinely liked Bradley, and still respected him. Who wouldn't respect a decorated Navy SEAL? But that didn't mean she was ever going to speak to him again. It was far too embarrassing.

"I'm going to tell Brad."

Alexis spun back. "Wha—"

"I am." Rachel lifted her chin. "He needs to know the truth. It's past time you two quit not speaking to each other and get back to the way things are supposed to be."

"Because you and I swore a blood oath?" Best friends forever. Soul sisters. Alexis was supposed to have married Bradley, so Rachel could be her children's Auntie.

Rachel's eyes warmed. "That hurt."

"It was one tiny needle. And it was your idea." Getting matching tattoos had been _way_ worse.

"Still." Rachel looked a little green around the edges.

Alexis had to smile. This was the friend she remembered. No baggage, just the two of them. She didn't have any good memories in her life that didn't include Rachel. And Bradley.

Too bad that part of her life was done now. Gone like her reputation. Her job.

Her credibility.

She sighed, moving past the sideboard toward the hall. Didn't every family have problems? The three of them had been what Alexis had never found at home. And now it was all gone. Ruined, like the rest of her life. Though, admitting that out loud wouldn't be fair to Rachel.

There was no point dwelling on it further. She had to keep reminding herself that all this had happened for the best. A new chapter, because she'd done the right thing for her friend. That made it all the better.

"Lex."

She turned. "Please don't tell Brad." As much as she wanted him to know the truth—and to not look at her the way everyone else in the world did—it wasn't meant to be.

"He isn't seeing anyone right now."

"Rach."

Her friend enveloped her in a hug. Alexis sucked in a choppy breath, and hugged her back.

The crack of a gunshot echoed from another part of the house.

Rachel flinched and pulled out of the hug. "What was that?"

Alexis knew, but who wanted to contemplate that? "We should get out of the hall."

A Secret Service agent ran in. "Ma'am, let's get you—"

Another shot rang out. The red stain blossomed from his neck, and the man dropped to the floor.

Rachel screamed.

Beyond where the agent had stood was a man in a ski mask. Black clothes. Gas mask.

Alexis gripped her friend's hand, her feet seemingly frozen to the floor. Her brain unable to think about what they should do.

The man tossed a canister in their direction. It hit the tile in front of them and rolled over to where they stood.

Alexis shoved her friend towards the living room, through the cloud of gas.

Her eyes blurred. Stung. Her hip clipped a piece of furniture and she dropped to one knee. Cried out.

More gas clouded around her.

"Rachel."

Alexis could hear her friend moving, but couldn't see anything. She felt around, encountered the couch. The corner of the table. When her fingers found the soft material of Rachel's sweater, she grasped it. "Rach."

Her friend coughed. "Lex." Her voice croaked. "What—"

Rachel's sweater was yanked from Alexis's grip.

Rachel screamed, the sound moving away from Alexis. She scrambled forward to find her friend again, and her forehead cracked the end table. Something toppled on her. A vase. It smashed against the floor. She tried to get her balance and her hands landed on splintered glass.

Alexis hissed out a breath.

What was going on?

"Rachel!"

Two arms banded around her. The air expelled from her lungs and hot breath touched her ear. "Guess we'll see what you're made of now."

Alexis struggled as hard as she could, kicking her legs out and tugging at his arms with both hands. "Let me go!"

He chuckled.

"Enough."

The man stilled as a new voice entered the room.

Alexis tried to breathe, and could only cough. She kept up her struggle, trying to get free of whoever this was. Alan? She didn't know.

"You did your job, Turner."

"So gimme my money." Turner dropped her on the floor.

Alexis slammed onto the glass, ignored the slicing pain and scrambled away from him. Alan Turner had done this? Sure, he hated her, but where was Rachel? He'd never allow her to get hurt. And yet, it seemed he'd been paid to completely ignore his oath.

Alexis found the wall and huddled against it.

A gunshot rang out. She flinched and moved closer to the wall. Her eyes were streaming now, and she still couldn't make out much.

Who had been shot?

Footsteps crossed the room toward her.

Alexis looked around, trying to see through the swimming mist that was now her vision. "Rachel!"

No answer.

Two dark columns stopped in front of her.

Alexis looked up in time to see an arm swing toward her. It slammed into her temple, and everything went black.

# Chapter 3

Bradley pulled over to the curb and stared at the scene playing out on his sister's street. His left eye still smarted from the blow he'd received in Steve's "game." He'd killed two of the Double Down guys, and gotten tagged in the eye by the female operator going for his forehead. But after he processed the fact she'd been taller than he was, he hadn't let her get him. Bradley had managed to slip away before she could regroup from his retaliation.

Now, cops and black and white cars with their lights flashing crowded the street. An ambulance was parked by the curb in front of his sister's apartment. The back doors were open, and inside a familiar figure sat receiving medical attention.

What was going on?

He grabbed the door handle and hopped out before he realized he hadn't shut off the engine. Alexis always made him act stupid. _Nothing has changed there._ He pulled the keys out and pocketed them, then made his way to her at a far more sedate pace. Where was Rachel? And why had Alexis come here on a night when his sister asked him to come over?

His ankle kicked back at him with every step. That pang of pain. He pulled back even more, slowing his pace. It was pure luck Rachel had caught him on two weeks of medical down-time between missions. Also, when he'd happened to be talking with Double Down Inc. about his plans for when he left the service.

He was OUTCONUS on missions all over the world close to three hundred days a year, but she'd called him this afternoon during his interview.

I have to tell you something.

Bradley stepped up to the back of the ambulance, where an EMT held gauze against Alexis's temple. "Where's my sister?"

Her eyes lifted, and he watched like it was slow motion. Relief he was there. The realization that she wanted him there. Guilt. Frustration. He was pretty sure all that would be written over his face as well if he hadn't learned to keep it locked up tight. Who knew SEALs training would come handy in relationships?

Not that they had a relationship.

Anymore.

Underlying everything that Alexis's face broadcast loud and clear was one thing that beat out the rest: pure terror.

His stomach clenched. "Alexis, where's Rachel?"

"Sir!" A suited man strode over, not much older than him. The guy flashed a badge. FBI. "I'm Agent Walker."

"Master Chief Bradley Harris." Since they were doing titles.

He walked with the man over to the curb in front of his sister's house. Out of earshot of Alexis. Bradley said, "What's going on?"

"Approximately one hour ago, Senator Harris was abducted from her home. The Secret Service agents on your sister's detail were either incapacitated or killed."

He glanced over his shoulder at Alexis. And that haunted look in her eyes.

"She was in the house when it happened." The agent answered the question Bradley hadn't asked. "We're trying to ascertain if she had anything to do with what happened. So far she's been too shaken up to answer any questions. It can't be a coincidence, though. Your sister is abducted on the same night her disgraced former assistant is paying her a visit?"

It hit the tip of his tongue to tell the agent Alexis would never put Rachel in harm's way. That she would never do anything to harm her friend. But he didn't know that, did he? After everything that had happened, he had to face the fact he didn't know Alexis at all.

Maybe once upon a time he could've said that.

Bradley squeezed the back of his neck, and looked at his boots.

"Are you aware of anyone who might want to do something like this?"

He glanced up. "Abduct my sister? No. Who would do that?"

"No one she was up against, who might've had a grudge?"

"You'll have to ask her assistant that. I don't exactly keep close tabs." He realized how that sounded. "We're close, but I'm not in Virginia all that much and I'm not all up in her work." And it wasn't like he could tell her what he was doing. She didn't have the clearance.

"We're contacting her assistant, and I have agents already at her office looking through her files to see if any threats have been made," the agent said. "We're also going to talk to Ms. Calvert."

Alexis.

She'd been part of their lives for years. Bradley struggled to think of a memory of Rachel that didn't also have Alexis in it. At the time it had seemed so natural for their relationship to slip into more. Then came the awkwardness after, and wondering what Rachel was going to think. It had soured everything at a time when he'd been heading out for deployment. When he'd come back, Alexis had retreated into her head. She'd pushed him away and told him it was for the best. Bradley didn't want to believe it'd been because of him. But then, he'd always been good at denial.

"I'll talk to her." He swallowed, wondering if it would even help. "She's more likely to open up to me than someone with a badge."

"She has a grudge against cops?"

Bradley shook his head and just made his way to her, rather than get into all that with the agent. Alexis probably didn't want someone "official" wading through her business. It had already been splashed across social media and the news. He wondered how she'd even survived that when she'd always been such a private person.

Then again, if she hadn't wanted it exposed, then she shouldn't have done what she'd done. Right?

Bradley scratched the side of his head, trying to nail down the frustration so he didn't blow this conversation. He wanted to feel sorry for her that she'd gone through all that—having her private life blasted everywhere. But what was he supposed to think? She'd rejected him. It hardly even made sense to him that a woman like her would choose _that_. Over what they could have had? Made no sense.

The EMT had leaned close to her. Too close. The man's lips moved as he said something in her ear. She stiffened.

"Lex." He said the nickname before he even realized it.

Her attention shifted, latching onto him. A lifeline.

Bradley steeled himself against that need to rescue her. To be the one who saved her. He glanced at the EMT. "You done?"

Alexis scooted forward on the stretcher to the open door. "He's done." She shot the medic a look. The guy had said something to her she hadn't liked.

Alexis hit the mouth of the ambulance as he held his hand out. Helped her down. She blew out a breath. "Great timing as always."

"Except not, since I got here _after_ Rachel was taken." He looked at his watch. "She didn't want me here until nine-thirty."

Alexis frowned. "She asked me to come at seven."

All this had happened in an hour and a half? Never mind the fact Rachel had invited them to come in the same night. Bradley couldn't make sense of this. Had she wanted to meet with them separately, or was his sister's plan for Alexis to still be at the house when Bradley showed up? She was a politician. He wouldn't put it past Rach to finagle a reconciliation.

Like that was going to work.

"Why'd she call you over?"

Alexis chewed her lip.

"Just tell me, okay? Whatever it is can't be worse than my sister being who-knows-where at the hands of a crazy person."

Tears filled her eyes. "She—"

Bradley waited, but that was all she gave him. "What?"

"He's going to hurt her." There was more she didn't say. But he couldn't ask about that right now.

Bradley got close. Forced her to focus on him only, and not anyone else. Or the fact that the special agent was listening to everything. "Who?"

Alexis sucked in a choppy breath. "I don't know."

The agent snorted. "You expect us to believe that? You're her closest friend. Or you _were_. So who would have taken her?"

A tear rolled down her face.

"Who?"

"I don't know who he is." The fear in her eyes, that pure unadulterated horror, washed over him. Bradley wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. Keep her safe from all of it. But what he needed to do was help find Rachel. Alexis would be safe. She was scared, yes—but for her friend. Rachel was the one in danger right now.

"What can you tell the agent who's going to help them find her?"

Alexis shook her head, rubbing at her jaw with a shaky hand. That was a nasty injury on her temple. "I don't know."

The agent's tone dripped with sarcasm as he said, "We're supposed to believe—"

" _I don't know!_ " She screamed the words at him.

"I should arrest you for conspiracy."

"Do it!"

Bradley wound an arm across the front of her body and pulled her back three steps. "Alexis. You need to calm down."

Her breath came in gasps as she deflated in his arms, her body bucking as she started to cry. Big, body-wracking sobs.

Bradley scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the front steps of Rachel's neighbor's house. He sat and held her on his lap as she cried, rubbing his hand up and down her back. She sucked in a breath. "He's—" Another breath. "Oh God, he'll—"

"Talk to me, Lex. Who?"

She shook her head.

"If you know something that will help them find her, you _have_ to tell me." Otherwise he would let them arrest her. At least it meant they'd scare her into talking.

"She's probably so scared." A low moan escaped her throat.

He pulled her tighter against him.

Her body hitched and she started to pull away from him. He shook his head. "Lex." Tried to hold on tighter. Why was she always pushing him away?

She shoved out of his arms, her hand planted on the railing and she retched on the steps in front of him.

Bradley got up and pulled her hair back from her face. He looked at the agent. "Get her some water."

The agent didn't move. "Looks like all the signs of a guilty conscience if you ask me."

"No one is."

Alexis straightened. "My friend is out there—" She waved her hand at the city beyond this street. "—scared out of her mind, and probably fighting for her life. And you're being glib?" Bradley touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him off and squared her shoulders. "I want your superior here. I want an agent capable of acting like a professional."

"Good one." The agent sneered. "You of all people, lecturing me on acting like a professional?"

Alexis's whole body flinched.

The agent didn't seem to notice, or didn't care. "Excuse me while I go find your friend. And if I find out you had _anything_ to do with this, you'll be in cuffs faster than you can say Snapchat."

She didn't back down until he'd walked away. Then she just...deflated again. Slumped against the railing like that was the extent of the fight she had in her.

Bradley studied her. She didn't have the guilty edge of someone who'd done what they set out to do. Or who'd been duped into it. She might know more than she was saying, but Alexis wasn't involved. He knew that. He knew her.

Or, at least, he _had_. He'd known her in every way a man could know a woman. But, was that any more than a college fling for her? A onetime, home-on-leave, fling for him. _Tell yourself that._ The fact she hadn't wanted to talk about it afterwards didn't stop him from making more of it than it was. He'd never considered himself a romantic, but there was something about him and Alexis that was just...right.

But that was years ago. Since then, he'd gotten saved, and he knew precisely what the Bible said about what they'd done. They'd known it was wrong as well. And while he didn't want to live with that guilt—and gave it to God daily—maybe there was more they had to do. A way they could reconcile things between them so he didn't feel like she'd trapped him—forever, in a way he'd never be able to get past her. And didn't think he ever would.

"You want me to give you a ride home?"

Tonight wasn't the night for that talk. It might've been why Rachel had called them both here, but he couldn't know that now. Not until he saw Alexis back to wherever she lived and hit the streets to find his sister.

With the help of Double Down.

Alexis nodded and pushed off the railing, clutching one arm across her stomach. He waited while she grabbed her purse, and spoke with one of the police officers. The man was aloof. Bradley could understand why, considering her public persona. The brush she'd been painted with on social media.

The guys on his SEAL team had peppered him with questions about her when it all came out. Bradley had been too shocked to do anything but tell them all to buzz off. None of their business. Even though the internet seemed to think it was _everyone's_ business.

Still, the way her shoulders slumped and seemed to turn inward. The defeated look on her face. He had to rub a hand across his chest over that aching muscle that had never really let her go.

Bradley held the passenger door for her, and shut it after she'd climbed in. He rounded the F150 to his side. Sat in his seat, he asked for her address.

She gave him cross streets.

"You live above the Walgreens, or what?"

"You can drop me off there. It's fine."

"Do you need something for your head?"

She glanced at him as he pulled out. "I just want to go home. Can you _please_ drop me off there without twenty questions? I'm exhausted, and—" Her voice broke.

Bradley heard her fighting back tears for the next two miles of Georgetown traffic. The area she'd directed him towards was run down. Where did she live? Certainly nowhere near the Virginia condo she'd been at before. That complex was high-end, and she'd been so happy the day they moved her in. This Alexis was...broken.

A consequence of her own making?

He wanted to listen to logic. All the evidence said her own actions had brought her low. But what was the truth? She'd been sweet. Honest. That post online was the opposite of everything he'd ever understood about her. Everything he'd loved about her.

He pulled over in front of the Walgreens.

She got out, then turned back. "If you..." She took a breath. "If you hear anything, will you call me?"

Bradley nodded. "You, too. Okay?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line and conceded with a nod.

"And I want you calling me if you need anything. Or if you think you're in danger. Got it?" She knew him. She knew he had to ask. No matter what had happened between them, Bradley would be there for her.

Alexis stared at him for a full minute, then finally said, "Thank you."

She shut the door. Bradley sat in silence until he couldn't hold his breath any longer. Then he inhaled. She'd looked at him like he was the best man she'd ever met. But it also seemed like she thought he just might be her _only_ hope. And maybe he could be. He was a good guy. It made him feel kind of good about himself...until he realized it also meant she thought she was in trouble.

Serious trouble.

Bradley watched her move down the sidewalk—without going into the Walgreens—and turn a corner. He pulled onto the street and followed. Traffic slowed enough for him to see her enter a rundown apartment building behind the pharmacy. The parking lot was a mess of cracked concrete and weeds. Busted out windows. Boarded up doors.

_This_ was where she was living?

# Chapter 4

Minutes stretched into hours as the van drove. And drove. Each time Rachel thought they had arrived, the van simply set off again.

On her side in the back, Rachel lay still trying to fight off the groggy feeling. Her hands and feet were tied. A rancid cloth had been secured over her mouth so that she couldn't take a breath or swallow without tasting it. Black fabric—some kind of hood—had been pulled up over her face.

The needle mark in her arm where they'd doused her with whatever made her head swim, still ached.

Alexis. She didn't even know if her friend was okay.

This wasn't how she expected her night to have gone. Not by a long shot. And not like being kidnapped was one of the possibilities, but still. She'd had a plan, and this was what she'd gotten? She'd wanted to bring the truth to light once and for all so she could move on with her life.

She had to keep it together. _Stay calm. Survive._ She'd done it before, and she could do it again.

_Bradley._ He was in town. She knew he'd talked with Steve at Double Down today. Not that her brother had told her. She _was_ a senator. She could find things out if she wanted—especially when Steve's assistant had called to ask what her brother's cell number was. Her feelings for Steve were one thing, the idea Bradley might go to work for him, another. It meant her brother would be home. She could run into Steve at a BBQ, or some other function. Both sent a rush of excitement running through her.

Alexis and Bradley were her family, and she wanted them to be happy. She could have gotten them back together. Everything she wanted had been so close she'd been almost able to grasp it. To clutch it in her grip and make sure nothing ever happened to any of them.

Not ever again.

_Now look at yourself._ Thinking about Steve brought up another set of spiraling thoughts she had to rein in. It wasn't worth thinking about him—or the fact he'd had his assistant call instead of calling himself. Like a chicken who couldn't speak to her himself.

Focus.

The van set off again, and her whole body rocked with the motion. A tear slid from her eye and ran into her hairline.

Survive.

Bradley was here. Her brother would find her.

# Chapter 5

Alexis shut the door to her apartment and sank back against the door. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she locked them. The neighbors on one side were well into their nightly battle. Screaming at each other about this and that. Did it mean anything? Because mostly it seemed like habit. On the other side of her, loud heavy metal music threatened to drive her mad—if the arguing didn't.

She stumbled to her broken, ten dollar recliner and sank into the stale-smelling cushions. Her fingers drifted to her Bible on the end table she'd bought for college, which had been in storage. She probably should've thrown it away a long time ago. Now she was glad she hadn't. Bible on her lap, she grabbed her journal and pen. Clutched both to her chest.

Tried to breathe.

Tried not to think about Bradley. She couldn't handle that right now.

Tears threatened. Had they stopped? Rachel was gone. _Taken._ That madman had her, and there was nothing Alexis could do about it. She was nearly convinced he was responsible for the kidnapping as well, though logic didn't track. This had been a targeted attack that had bested the Secret Service.

Alan.

He'd betrayed them all, and Rachel was suffering for it.

How had he been able to live with himself? How were his wife and kids supposed to go on after it came out that he had betrayed the oath he had taken to protect those in his charge? She wasn't about to rob those innocents of his death benefits. He was dead, and there was no one to hold responsible anyway. No one to tell the FBI where Rachel was being held.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Was she hindering the FBI's ability to find Rachel?

The FBI and Secret Service would figure out Turner's connection to the kidnappers. Then the world would know what Alan had done. Rachel would be home safe, and things would go back to normal.

She thought back to the smells of that night, the gas in the air. In her throat. The sounds. The sharp crack that still rattled in her head. The EMT had seemed to think she might still be up for a good time even with the head injury. Why else would he proposition her in the back of the ambulance?

While his words had been grossly inappropriate, it was nothing new. It seemed like everyone in town knew her story, wanted to ask her about it, and some of them even wanted to star in the next chapter. Like she was going to let that happen when all of it had basically destroyed her. Personally. Professionally.

There was no coming back from it, and she probably needed to accept that fact. Even if they got Rachel back. Alexis wasn't ever going to be able to go back to the way things had been before everything went wrong.

She opened her Bible to the passage she'd read that morning, then laid open her journal and wrote, _Should I leave?_ Maybe once Rachel was found, it was time to leave. Start over somewhere else. Make a new life for herself. Write a new chapter where no one knew—or just didn't care—who she was.

She continued writing, pouring all her fear and frustration out onto the page like David had done when he was running from Saul. Except it wasn't her in danger, it was Rachel. _Help her, please, Lord._ Emotion caught in her throat until she thought she would choke on it. The taste of the gas was still on her tongue. Alexis coughed at the scratchy sensation, and let the tears fall for her friend.

Then she read. Her lips moved as she took in each word, praying it calmed her heart as well as her mind. And as she read, it was like all the voices in her head were silenced as she soaked up the words. Here, in the pages of scripture, His presence shined on her fear to illuminate the dark places in her life. Washed it all to daylight. Warmth.

Thank You, Lord.

God had a plan. Even in this.

She didn't know what it was, and she prayed Rachel wouldn't suffer through it. She prayed this had nothing to do with the man who had torn both of their worlds apart. _Please don't let it be him who has her._ Rachel would never survive another encounter with that monster. Just the idea of it made Alexis want to be sick all over again. Just like she'd done in front of...

Bradley.

She couldn't be embarrassed. Not when he'd caught her up in his arms, and held her that way. No one had _ever_ held her that way. And if anyone else had tried, she'd have found a way to politely remove herself from the situation. But then, Bradley wasn't anyone. He was everything she had ever wanted in life, and love. Nothing had changed there, except that he hated her now the way everyone else did. He looked at her with that same disapproving stare. Probably wondering what she was going to do next. How far she could be pushed.

He wouldn't do that. She knew that as surely as she knew the way he'd loved her. _Sorry, Lord._ That wasn't appropriate now. Still, she carried those sweet memories of the time they'd spent together in her heart. It might have been sin, but she treasured their time together. It was the warmest of memories, all of which included Bradley anyway. It wasn't like she was ever going to be able to escape him.

She kept reading and journaling until the knock at the door.

Alexis blinked and glanced at the time on the microwave. _11:37_.

Who was knocking?

She looked through the peep hole and blew out a breath. Lincoln. She pulled the door open and said, "Hey."

He nudged her out of the way and strode in, a red mark on his cheek.

"What happened?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." He waved one hand around. "You're sitting here what...reading your Bible? You don't answer the phone? I thought something happened to you as well." And yet, there was none of the concern on his face that she'd seen in Bradley. Or was it just that she could recognize it easier in him than she could in Lincoln.

Alexis shut the door and held up both hands. "I'm sorry. I should have checked my phone." Even though that defeated the purpose of quiet time. Getting distracted by her phone didn't help her focus on the Lord.

He shot her a scathing look. Alexis had to remind herself that he was just a hot-head who was concerned about her. Lincoln had been a good friend when no one else in her life had stuck by her. She needed to focus on that. Not on the fact he didn't know how to temper his emotions.

"It's been a rough night," she said. "Rachel got kidnapped."

"I _know_."

Alexis frowned. "Thank you for being concerned about me, and for coming here. How did you get hurt?"

"My neighbor's cat attacked me again." He leaned against her breakfast bar. "I should take that thing to a vet and have it put down, but it would probably tear me to shreds in the process."

"Sorry."

"You're saying that a lot. Which makes me wonder what all exactly you're trying to apologize for."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You tell me?"

Alexis turned away and tried to figure this out. Was he here to accuse her, instead of making sure she was all right as she'd thought?

Maybe there was another layer to what he was saying. Did he know Bradley was in town? How he could know that when she hadn't even known, was beyond her. Alexis had had no idea until Bradley walked up to the ambulance. It had been a wonderful surprise, and a terrible realization at the same time. Would there ever be an instance in her life when he could show up and it wouldn't birth conflicting feelings in her?

Lincoln might have feelings for her, or so she'd thought at one time, but she'd never given him any indication she was open to a relationship. What she needed was the friend he'd been to her the past few months.

Her life was far too complicated right now for anything more than that. She was trying to get a job. And not the pity offer Lincoln had given her to come and work with his father. The old man creeped her out. Lincoln might work for him, but she'd never gotten the impression he much liked his father. That wasn't the point, though. She wanted to get work on her own merit.

Dog walking and cleaning houses didn't pay all of her bills, though. Not in a town like this. Rachel had been helping her keep her head above water, but Alexis didn't like taking the money. She'd put as much of it as she could in her account for emergencies, mostly hoping she'd get a full time job and be able to give it back.

Lincoln slumped onto the couch and it groaned. Not because he was heavy. The man was six-two and slender, but muscled from doing martial arts since he was a kid. Some people might think he was attractive, she supposed. He just wasn't her type. Not for anything other than a friend. And she appreciated the way he'd stuck close for her. But there was only one man in her heart, and no one else she'd ever met even measured up.

"You're thinking about him again."

Alexis bit back another apology.

He stretched.

"Long day?" When he nodded, she said, "Coffee?" She only had a can of the cheap stuff. Put enough milk and sugar in and it tasted okay, though. Or she could pretend it did. She couldn't afford creamer.

He said, "Sure."

Alexis set up the coffee maker and when it began to trickle out, visited the bathroom to clean up a bit. She needed a shower, but settled for brushing her teeth quickly. Coffee and the taste of being sick didn't mesh, and the sensation threatened to bring more illness every time she swallowed. Her throat was still scratchy from the gas, and her hip smarted though she didn't look to see what the bruise was like.

However crummy she felt couldn't hold a candle to how Rachel must be feeling right now.

When she came out, Lincoln stood at the window by her desk, staring out at the street below. The coffee pot beeped, and she poured two cups. "One sugar, right?"

He wandered over. "You know I like that hazelnut stuff."

Alexis sighed, and put milk in both cups. "I—" What was the point in arguing, or telling him for the hundredth time that she didn't have the money for anything more than the basics.

The thoughts in her head swirled like a whirling dervish until all she could see was that fog. And taste the gas on her tongue. Until her fingers loosened the way they had when Rachel was pulled from her grasp.

The milk landed on the counter, sloshing over the rim.

"Watch it." Lincoln screwed the lid back on. "For someone so money-conscious, you don't mind wasting it, do you?"

She took the carton from him and placed it back in the fridge, then used an old rag to wipe the spill. "I wouldn't describe it as money-conscious. That implies I actually have two bills to rub together." If she did, she would be careful about how she spent them. Always had.

When she was little, they hadn't had much money. Her mom had married a businessman and things got better, but she never forgot those days of chipped plates and grilled cheese sandwiches night after night because that was all they could afford. Now her mother wouldn't even speak of those times. She'd called her step-father after everything went public. He'd hung up on her, after telling her to never call again. She was a disgrace now. He wouldn't even speak Alexis's name. As for her, she wanted to drop his and go back to her birth surname.

Lincoln touched her shoulder. "You're so sad."

"I'm worried about Rachel."

"You should be worried about yourself. I would be, living in a dump like this." He shuddered. "I'd be scared to close my eyes."

Like she wasn't? Good people lived in this building, and selfish ones. Just like any neighborhood. Didn't matter if the people who lived there were rich or poor. Money didn't make you a better person, it just revealed who you truly were. "I really think I should be alone right now."

He shook his head. "That's the last thing you need, babe."

Lincoln tugged her closer, his arms winding around her waist.

"I—"

He squeezed her middle. Too tight. "Enough talking, Alexis."

# Chapter 6

"I know it's late, but call me back when you get this message. It's important." Bradley hung up, wondering if he should call the assistant at Double Down. Bradley wanted to scream out his frustration, but didn't, and not just because he was about to go through security to get into the FBI building. Steve hadn't mentioned to Bradley anything about dinner plans. Why wasn't he answering?

Bradley stowed his phone in a plastic bin to go through the scanner. He wanted Double Down's help on this. He needed the team, and was fully prepared to hire them if that was necessary. He didn't mind being a client, and would rather have the team with him as backup when he hunted the person behind this.

Job or not, he needed their skills.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Harris." The agent was young and pale-faced, like they kept him in the office all the time instead of allowing him out into the field.

Bradley nodded to the special agent, and followed the guy down their office hallway. He'd never figured he'd get to see the inside of Washington D.C.'s FBI office, and yet here he was.

Rachel, where are you?

"If it helps me find my sister," he said, "I'm happy to go wherever."

Though, truthfully, he'd rather be out on the streets looking for her. Was there even a trail to find? The FBI weren't sharing if they had discovered anything that might indicate where she'd been taken. Or even what vehicle she'd been taken in.

When Steve called back, he'd get his boys to Rachel's house to do their own sweep. Get a lead they could follow. _God, we need to find her._ He realized what he'd said. _I need to find her._ He couldn't think of life in terms of him and Alexis—not when he didn't know her any longer. They weren't friends. Maybe estranged family members, in a weird way. But that was all.

The agent opened a door to a conference room and motioned for him to enter first. Not the same agent who had been rude to Alexis. This one was younger. A rookie, maybe. Bradley didn't mind answering questions for junior personnel, considering that meant all the senior agents were trying to find his sister. Even the rude one.

Having a bad attitude didn't mean the agent wasn't excellent at his job. If only Bradley had the patience to let them work. How could he? SEALs weren't the kind of men who sat around, waiting for a result. Orders were orders. And those orders meant action.

Green light: mission.

Now a senator was missing. Surely that meant all hands on deck, for the FBI and the Secret Service. So long as they didn't mind an injured Navy SEAL tagging along, adding his skills to the mix, that was fine by him. Because there was no way he wasn't going to be part of their investigation—and the operation where they rescued her.

The bare table and bland walls didn't exactly inspire him. So when asked, Bradley had to say, "No. There's no one I can think of who would want to do this." He debated how much to tell the man. They were going to dig into Rachel's life. Which, to an extent, meant digging into his. "We're set to inherit money soon. It was a trust set up by our parents in the event of their deaths."

Bradley swallowed, not wanting to let any emotion bleed into his voice. Emotions never helped, which was why he'd excelled at keeping things buttoned up. Unless it came to Rachel or Alexis, that was. The two women in his life—his sister and the woman he'd loved at one time—had always managed to get past his defenses. Which was probably why he'd pulled away from them lately. Being a SEAL had changed him, and left him with not a lot of time for a personal life. Sure, some of the guys had families, but Bradley had figured it was easier to keep his focus on point if he had no distractions at home.

There was time enough for that later.

Only problem was, later might be now.

"Anyone your sister was at odds with?"

Bradley shrugged. "She's a senator, of course there are people who hate her." It was the nature of the job, and something Rachel hadn't been quiet about. "She had a guy a few years back who got too close, but the Secret Service took care of it as far as I know. You can ask Alexis, though. She worked for Rachel then."

The agent frowned, then glanced down at his tablet. "Any boyfriend we should know about?"

He shrugged again, wanting to apologize for not knowing his sister better. He'd been wanting to reconnect with her during this visit. Would they get that chance? He didn't want to think about Rachel being killed, but he had to admit it was a possibility.

Bradley said, "I think there was someone she was interested in, but it didn't go anywhere. Again, you should probably ask Alexis. They're best friends and always have been, regardless of how they feel about each other now or what happened."

Even something as huge as Alexis being publicly disgraced, as well as destroyed on social media, couldn't have killed the bond between them. After all, Alexis had been there at the house. And that wasn't an indication to him that she had anything to do with it. More, it was proof that there were still feelings between them.

He'd always loved their connection, even as he bemoaned the fact their closeness had compounded what happened between him and Alexis. He didn't want to unpack all of it, but none of them had dealt well with the surprise—or Rachel's reaction.

Bradley scrubbed his hands down his face. Now wasn't the time to rehash all that. Maybe when he could sit both women down, they could talk it through. Then they could all move on.

Bradley's phone chimed. He opened his eyes and glanced at the screen. Not Steve calling back, it was an email. From an unknown sender.

Watch this if you want your sister back.

**

Lincoln's mouth started its descent toward her lips. Alexis moved her head out of the way before he could. "Lincoln." She pushed out of his arms. "Don't do that. Please."

He shook his head, making a disappointed noise. "Sorry if I can't help myself when you're basically teasing me into doing something about it."

"Doing something about _what_?"

"The tension between us, obviously." He looked at her like she was dense. "We both feel it. But no, you want to ignore it like you've ignored all my attempts to help you." He stepped back. "Well, you know what? I'm done. That's the last move I make to help you, Lex. I'm done."

"Lincoln!" What did kissing have to do with helping her? Like she should accept his advances just because he had been her friend?

He didn't turn back, or say anything else. The door slammed loud enough it rattled a photo hung on the wall.

Alexis set her hands on the counter and hung her head. What had he been thinking? She'd never given him the green light to kiss her before. They were _friends_ , or so she'd thought. And she knew what disaster happened when friends took that turn. When it got romantic, and things were done that couldn't be taken back even if she wanted to. _Liar._ Okay, so she didn't want to take back anything she'd done with Bradley, even if it hadn't been right.

Lincoln, though? She'd never thought about making what they had physical. She didn't do that. Wasn't even attracted to him, anyway. And he'd thought he was helping?

A pounding fist hammered on the door.

She sighed. He would ask for forgiveness, and she wouldn't withhold it. That never helped. _God, let me understand._ The last thing she wanted was to lose one of the only friends she had left.

Alexis pulled open the door. "Its okay, Linc—"

Special Agent Walker stood there, gun drawn. He stepped into her space and continued in the apartment. "Alexis Calvert, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit kidnapping and anything else I can think of that will get Rachel Harris back safely to her family."

" _I'm_ her family."

Strong hands pulled her arms behind her back as more agents poured in her front door.

"Go through everything."

Her stomach dropped. "No—"

His gaze whipped back to her. "Something to hide? Something you might want to confess to?"

"I didn't do anything!" And God at least knew that was the honest truth. Even if the world believed something different. God, and Rachel. What did it matter the way everyone else looked at her? She had at least that to hold onto.

Agent Walker sneered. "I find that hard to believe. But don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of all of this. We'll figure out where you've stashed your friend."

Her stomach soured.

"I figure you're down on your luck. All that inheritance Rachel is about to get looks pretty good from a place like this." He motioned around the room with one finger, then jabbed it in her direction. "So you decided to stage a kidnapping. Put yourself in the scene, so we think you're just another victim. Wrong place, wrong time. Too bad you're not smart enough to cover your tracks."

_I'm being framed._ How could they think she'd do this to her oldest and best friend? Things had been strained recently. How could they not be? But there was no reason on earth she'd have betrayed Rachel like this.

"I didn't—" She choked. "I wouldn't!"

But he wasn't going to believe her, was he? This man was determined to think what everyone else did. The worst possible things a person could think. About _her_. When all she'd been trying to do was the right thing. It had even crossed her mind that it was the thing Bradley would have done.

If he'd known.

Rachel had never told him the truth. Now it would come out, and the truth would sting far more sharply than any lie ever had.

Alexis choked back another sob. The last thing she'd wanted was to cause Bradley pain, and now there was no way to stop that from happening.

"Bring the computer."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"That's right," the agent said. "We know all about what you did."

Except there was just one problem with that.

He didn't know the half of it.

"Get her out of here. I can't even stand to look at her right now."

The agent who'd cuffed her hauled her out her door and walked her to the stairs while her neighbors looked on. Enjoying her misery.

She'd thought it wasn't possible to be brought any lower than she already was. _I was wrong._ God was going to stretch her farther. To ask this of her, after He had already asked her to endure so much.

For Rachel, she would do it. Gladly.

She would suffer whatever was necessary if it meant she could get her friend back safely.

Even the threat of losing Bradley. Which was going to happen, when he discovered the FBI thought she was involved in Rachel's kidnapping.

The agent stopped by an SUV and opened the back door.

She turned to him. "While Agent Walker is wasting time, going through my stuff, my friend is still out there. Everyone who should be looking for her is distracted, chasing _nothing._ "

"I figured you were a good actress, with that prim and proper thing going on." The corner of his mouth curled up. "But I didn't know you were this good; you actually sounded concerned for the Senator. Which is funny, considering you're the one who just sent the ransom video to her brother."

# Chapter 7

Bradley gripped the edge of the conference table chair beside his knees, as he watched the video play on the laptop screen for the hundredth time. Even though his eyes were now burning, his coffee untouched. He'd heard the words when they told him the email came from Alexis's computer.

But he didn't believe it.

"The background is moving." He'd turned the sound down. Rachel's words, her broken voice, played in his head anyway. He didn't need to keep listening to it. He needed details—ones that would help them locate her.

The agent he'd been speaking with didn't look up from his own computer, a laptop which he'd brought in. "Curtain. A sheet, maybe. We're trying to figure it out."

"What about background noise?"

"Because you're going to hear a train, or a certain kind of bird that only lives in one part of town and get a location, Sherlock?"

Bradley glanced at the man. Maybe that _had_ been what he was thinking, but apparently it didn't happen here. "Pardon me if I'm not an expert in kidnapping videos."

The agent sighed. "Sorry. There's nothing in the background. Whoever he is, he's good."

"What if it's a woman?"

"You think Alexis Calvert is responsible?"

That hadn't been what he was talking about at all, but the agent assumed otherwise. Especially now that they'd traced back the email to her computer. This could very well be the work of a woman as easily as a man, right? Just not Alexis. Or so he'd believed. He couldn't let his faith in her waver now.

Yes, she was hiding something. That much he knew just from talking to her outside Rachel's house. Her reaction had been mostly about what happened to her friend, but he knew her well enough to see more there. Just not what the FBI agents wanted to see. Because of the kidnapping? No way. She would never hurt Rachel. Except the fact that her public display of... _that_ didn't exactly leave his sister unscathed.

Bradley sighed and moved to refill his coffee.

"You wanna tell me about this two million she said he wants?"

He topped his coffee with whole milk and turned, leaned his hips against the counter. This wasn't an interrogation. They needed this information.

"Neither of you has that kind of money."

"Not for another two days, no."

The agent's brow furrowed. "The inheritance you mentioned?"

"A trust our parents set up. When they passed away, it was kept for us until the day we turn thirty." He smiled. "Guess they figured we'd just waste it if we got it earlier."

And now the kidnapper wanted it.

"One million each." Bradley sipped his coffee.

It wasn't a ton of money, not by standards of wealth, but it was a life-changer. He wanted to be grateful for it. Truth was, with his parents gone he didn't really care all that much about dollars. He'd rather have them here. Even if it meant his mother was beside herself with worry about Rachel. His dad would be yelling at everyone to cover the fact he was scared out of his mind.

Bradley was barely holding it together as it was. The agents acted like this was just another day on the job, which he supposed it was, for them. If he had his parents here, Bradley doubted he would be holding himself together this well.

The agent said, "So the kidnapper is close enough to you to know about this inheritance. Knows precisely when you'll be getting it in order to coincide with handing it over in exchange for her."

That didn't mean it was Alexis. "Or he works at the law firm. Or knew our parents. They were popular in their sphere of business." He shrugged, even though his stomach was twisting. "You think figuring out who knows about the money will find her?"

It was a long shot from that to a location where she was being held. Still, they had to get a lead somehow.

No one had said as much to him, but he figured the FBI was running on next to nothing apart from this kick Agent Walker was on about Alexis. They were bringing her in right now so they could question her. All because the email had come from her computer. He figured she'd been hacked, but they would know that, wouldn't they? Was the misdirection just a way for the kidnapper to make sure the FBI was doing busywork?

The agent said, "We have to investigate every avenue. Never know which one will unearth the truth."

"And the meet?" It was set for two days from now. The day they were supposed to have hit the lawyer's office and signed all those papers. Not a coincidence, either.

"That's one of the avenues I—"

The second he saw Alexis being escorted down the hall, Bradley tuned out the rest. He set his cup on the table and moved to the door. Alexis had tear tracks on her dry face, what makeup she'd been wearing now smeared under her eyes. They marched her from the elevator down the hall while every agent in the room stared at her.

He didn't want to be as worried about her as he was about Rachel. He shouldn't be. But he couldn't help his sister, while Alexis might be able to—if she told the FBI what she was hiding. Both his girls were in trouble, just different kinds. That was the reality. Bradley was torn between them, trying to balance friendship with Alexis—or what remained of one—and his relationship with his sister.

What had Rachel wanted to tell him? And, why did it seem like it had something to do with Alexis? Maybe she'd wanted to make a change in her life. Or she'd met someone.

Bradley swung back around to the agent. "Does my sister have a boyfriend?"

"There's a guy." He flicked through screens. "It doesn't seem serious."

"Any indication he might want it to turn serious and she doesn't?"

The agent shook his head. "He isn't the pushy kind from what I've been able to find out."

"So we're not looking at him?"

"We _'re_ not looking at anyone. The FBI is investigating this case."

They didn't want his help? "What is the guy's name?"

"I can't tell you that."

Because they didn't want him paying the man a visit? He figured that was a waste of a perfectly good resource. "I want to listen to the interview with Alexis."

The agent sighed.

"We're not making any progress here, and I know Alexis better than anyone. I can give you guys insight."

"You said you haven't seen her in years."

His stomach clenched. "That stuff doesn't change."

The agent made a call, and Bradley was escorted to the viewing room. Probably so he was out of that agent's hair. Too bad for them he didn't care who he was annoying. He'd make them all crazy if it meant they found his sister faster. What did it matter if they did that just to get rid of him?

Bradley was more used to kicking down doors. Evade. Capture. Exfil. There was a mission, and that mission was undertaken until it was completed. Then they waited for the next mission. Simple, but not easy. There was a purity to it that didn't even touch this life stateside. It was hard to find people who understood the transition. Alexis was one of the ones who had made it easier. Made home worth coming to, just to see her smile.

She'd acted like he was this great hero every single time, even when the mission had gone wrong and he took his frustration out on her.

Then, in one night, they'd grown closer. The next morning Rachel had shown up and overreacted. Everything had fallen apart from there. He stared at Alexis through the glass. Did she regret what they'd done? She'd told Rachel it wasn't a big deal. That hurt, but he got why. Rachel didn't need to know the extent of the promises they'd made to each other in the dark.

Promises Alexis hadn't kept.

Bradley tried to see all that through the lens of what he believed now. The faith he had, and the fact God called him to live a holy life. Not out of obligation, but as worship. Gratitude for what God had done.

Alexis in his life wasn't a holy thing, but what if it could be? Maybe there was too much melted snow under the bridge to think about her and marriage in the same context. But why not dream big? Wasn't that the point of having faith in a big God?

"I already told you," Alexis pleaded with Agent Walker. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"The ransom video was sent from your computer."

She blinked, and her mouth opened. No sound came out.

"She's surprised," an agent standing behind Bradley muttered.

"Could be faked." Another person.

"She isn't faking that." Bradley turned to stare at them both. "The woman can't keep a secret to save her life. She isn't capable of fake surprise."

"Then she's surprised she got caught." Bradley saw the guy's badge. An FBI shrink?

"No way. She didn't do this." He turned back to the window. They were probably sharing a look, but who cared? These people's opinions wouldn't change the truth.

Through the glass, Alexis shifted her hair back with a shaky hand. She looked exhausted. She was living in a dump. What was she doing for work these days?

He didn't want to soften toward her, but she had always lived in that part of him. The part he hadn't been able to toughen up. No matter what. This woman was what made him vulnerable. With her in his life, he'd felt like he could conquer anything. She was safe at home, so what was there to be scared about on a mission?

Alexis wiped a tear away. "My friend came over. I was out of the room for a minute. But he wouldn't do that. No way."

Snickers behind him made Bradley bite down on his molars. Alexis had a boyfriend? Here Bradley was defending her, and she was defending someone else?

"I don't think anyone came over," Agent Walker said. "I think you sent the ransom video yourself."

Alexis opened her mouth. Closed it. "I—" She cut herself off.

Bradley watched the thoughts play across her face. The woman had never known how to hide anything. Right now she didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to play this, whether to defend herself or argue with the agent. There was no subterfuge here, even with the FBI thinking she was part of it. Bradley was as convinced as he could be that Alexis hadn't done anything. And that wasn't blind feelings talking. He knew this woman. Just like he knew his sister.

If Rachel had brought Alexis to the house, and called Bradley to be there an hour and a half later, she had meant for them to all be there at the same time. Which meant whatever Rachel wanted to say had to do with Bradley and Alexis.

Agent Walker tossed a pen on the table between him and Alexis. "What's this mysterious friend's name, so we can verify he was at your house?"

"You mean, so you can tear into his life and terrify him with all this?"

"If he's innocent, what does he have to worry about?"

Alexis clutched her arms tighter around her middle.

"Or we can go through your phone and figure it out for ourselves. But saving us all that work..." Walker left off the implications of that.

Bradley didn't figure much was going to change the FBI's impression of Alexis. Least of all her giving them a name, when they already had her phone and computer. They probably already knew who her friend was.

Alexis shut her eyes for a second.

The shrink behind him said, "She's planning. Working out her next move."

Bradley bit down so hard he figured he was about to crack a tooth. Seriously, they couldn't just take her word for it? Alexis hadn't done anything to make the FBI believe she wasn't trustworthy...

That wasn't true.

He shut his own eyes. Her private life had been splashed across social media. Even with the outrageous public icons these days, it had still been a huge scandal for a Senator's assistant to act like that. She'd been branded. And not in a good way.

And he'd had his heart broken.

"Let's talk about you," Agent Walker said. "Assistant to a senator, nothing but success in front of you, and you throw it away. For what, a good time?"

Another video he couldn't get out of his head. But what did his sister's kidnapping have to do with Alexis's indiscretion? Surely the two weren't tied together. This was about money. Not what Alexis had done.

"It figures you're just like everyone else," Alexis said. "Fishing to find out if I'm up for a good time." She motioned to Agent Walker's wedding ring. "Things lacking at home?"

"Deflection," the shrink said.

Except that he'd heard that tone from Alexis before. It wasn't bitterness, or trying to get the attention off herself. It was pain. No, it was _anguish._

Agent Walker didn't react. "Then your friend fires you, and you're left with nothing. No money, no life. No job. Can't get employment past menial labor."

"Cleaning houses is honest work."

"Until people find out who is cleaning their houses and they ask your boss to remove you. Scared they'll find their house in the next video, right? Or one of their paintings for sale on eBay."

"I'm not a thief."

"And yet you make regular cash deposits into your bank account that aren't part of your income. You're careful," Agent Walker said. "I'll give you that. Small amounts, couple hundred at a time. Different times of the day. Different branches." He leaned back in his chair. "You wanna tell me where that money came from?"

"Diff..." Alexis blinked.

"Where does the money come from, Alexis?"

She stared at the agent, her body still. "I know how this is going to sound, but the money comes from Rachel."

"Senator Harris was giving you money?"

Alexis shrugged one shoulder. "She wanted to help me out. It's a free country."

_Because she felt guilty._ The thought popped into his head, but he couldn't figure out why. Alexis didn't feel like she had anything to be ashamed of. Rachel had given her money—she'd helped her friend out. But there was another layer to it.

Just not the one Agent Walker seemed to think was there. "You mean you forced her to help you out."

"Rachel is my _friend_." She chuckled, full of mirth. "And if you knew Senator Harris at all, you'd know that nobody forces Rachel to do anything."

"And yet you nearly destroyed her reputation with what you did."

Alexis looked like she was about to be sick. "I don't want to talk about this!"

"Too bad. Your friend took the hit, and you kept on keeping on. Getting paid. Living your life like nothing happened."

Alexis snorted, though it sounded more like she was about to start crying. "Have you seen my life?"

Bradley's stomach clenched. He'd seen her life. Rachel could have given her even more, but Alexis probably hadn't wanted it. Didn't want to be indebted to her friend.

At a time when she should have been begging to make amends.

None of this made sense to him.

Agent Walker said, "I guess that's what happens when you post that stuff."

"The original post came from a dummy account no one can trace," Alexis shot back at him. "Didn't you read the news reports? We didn't leak anything."

We?

Walker dismissed her words with a wave. "Why would I care?"

"Because then maybe you'd have an _inkling_ of why I am _scared out of my mind_ for my friend right now. She's been kidnapped and you're sitting here doing nothing." Alexis screamed the words at him. "This is a complete waste of time."

"You might think that." Walker's words were low, a dark tone. "But when I find the connection between you and the kidnapper, I'm going to nail you with everything I've got."

Bradley backed up from the window, his mind reeling.

"Doesn't look so innocent now, does she?"

He didn't care what the shrink thought. That wasn't even what he was thinking about. _Your friend took the hit._ It was a crazy idea, but in a weird way made total sense. Didn't explain everything. But maybe it gave him just enough. Just what he needed to begin to make sense of this.

First, they had to find Rachel.

Then, he was going to sit the girls down and make them meet with him.

Bradley turned to the shrink. He squared his shoulders, the same way he'd done with the guys on his team when those videos of Alexis came out. "She didn't do this."

He walked out of the viewing room, every stride making him more convinced he was right. They'd both lied to him, Rachel and Alexis, and he'd believed it. There had to be a reason, or he knew they'd have told him the truth. Instead, the girls had drawn a wedge between the three of them. He hadn't been able to help them, when that was exactly what he should have done. What he wanted to have done.

Now, with the FBI looking hard at Alexis, and his sister in the hands of greedy kidnappers, they were going to accept his help.

Whether they liked it or not.

He was here, and he was going to be here for them both.

Alexis was held for hours, during which time he kept calling Steve until the man picked up. And then he got the team activated. Finally the agent who'd been with him earlier came back in the conference room.

"She's been cleared to go." He said it with caution. As though he wasn't sure how Bradley was going to react. As if he'd do anything but make sure she got home okay.

"You guys didn't find anything incriminating on her phone?" Or, the FBI figured she was still part of it and they were going to follow Alexis hoping she would lead them to the kidnappers.

"Only the fact there was a text conversation between her and an unlabeled contact."

Bradley said, "What does that mean?"

The agent who'd been with him in the conference room said, "Whoever it is, their number is unregistered. So if she has a 'friend' who came over, she doesn't want anyone to know who it is." He shrugged. "Could be it's a code, but it also means we have nothing to hold her on."

"What about her computer?"

"Still going through it."

"There should be evidence the video was sent from it, right?"

"Should be."

The agent didn't tell him more after that. Bradley figured he'd been lucky they told him as much as they had.

Hours later, Alexis was escorted out of the interview room. Bradley crossed the office to meet them. When Walker saw him there he said, "She's free to go now, but I'm keeping an eye on her. Don't worry about that."

Bradley nodded. "I intend to do the same." He turned to her then, ignoring the shell-shocked look on her face. "In fact, why don't I give you a ride home?"

They walked to the elevator together, past agents filing in with boxes of belongings. Alexis's stuff?

She gasped. "They have my journals."

He tugged on her hand until they were alone in the elevator, not wanting her to break down in front of anyone else. She didn't need that. And he needed her to get to a place where she would start trusting him with the truth.

"They're going to find out everything." She whispered the words to the quiet of the elevator as they descended between floors.

Bradley figured the truth coming to light was a good thing, regardless of what fallout there might be. He turned so he faced her and ducked his head. "Lex." He waited until she made eye contact, then said, "Everything is going to be okay."

Her eyes widened. He saw it coming, but didn't move. She needed to do it.

Her palm cracked across his face. "How dare you!"

# Chapter 8

The second the elevator opened, Alexis strode toward the glass doors that led outside. Agents, other people, security guards and staff—the lobby was full. She wanted to run, but what would that prove except to make her look like a guilty fool?

"Lex."

Ugh. Was he really going to do this? Bradley probably thought she was as guilty as the FBI did. She wanted to curl in a ball and cry for days. Even if he didn't, and he was actually trying to... She choked. Was Bradley trying to _help_ her? He had to know there was nothing okay about this. Not one single thing. The FBI was too busy looking at her to even spare a second trying to find Rachel. Bradley probably figured cozying up to her would make her want to spill all her secrets to him.

Hah.

She pushed open the glass door and stepped out into the cold air. What time was it? The dark sky was covered in a layer of clouds, not that stars were usually visible. Maybe she should go somewhere she could see stars. Somewhere quiet, like Montana. Or Wyoming. A place with one area code for the whole state. Where her nearest neighbor was a mile away, and she could get a dog that would keep her company.

"Lex." His voice was entirely too close.

She spun to face him. "No."

That look. Ack. It got her every time when he trained that warmth and softness at her. Like they had a secret no one else knew.

"Don't." She couldn't handle that right now.

"The FBI will find Rachel. And if that doesn't happen before the time limit, I'll give the kidnappers all the money and get her back. I will."

Tears spilled over for the millionth time today. She swiped at the offending emotion. "One of the Secret Service agents was in on it. I remember he said he wanted his money, and the kidnapper killed him. I don't know who has Rachel, or where she is. Anything could be happening and I _can't help_."

"Lex." He groaned her name and pulled her into his arms.

Her cheek landed on his T-shirt, between the open sides of his jacket. How could anyone be this warm? He must burn up in desert countries. Under fire. Every day nothing but heart-pounding danger. A sob worked its way up.

"Always taking the world's weight on you." His chest moved like he'd laughed. "Protecting everyone, making sure everyone else is okay. Not even caring what happens to you in the process."

She pushed back. "What are you talking about?"

Bradley simply lifted one eyebrow.

"We need to get Rachel back." That was the focus here. Not...whatever he was talking about.

"I know. But the FBI has all the leads, and all the evidence. They're not telling me everything." He paused. "Did you know Rachel has a maybe boyfriend?"

Alexis shook her head. "Do you mean Steve?"

"I don't know," he said. "Do I?" It couldn't be the Steve he'd met with yesterday, could it? Surely the world wasn't that small.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, then said, "They're going to find out...everything."

He shook his head, a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. "Doesn't matter. I'll be here, and when it's done I'll _still_ be here."

"Brad." She bit her lip.

"Let's go, okay?" He let her go—hello, cold—and clasped her hand as he led her to his truck.

"I have to do something." She wracked her brain. "I can't just sit at home."

"It's the middle of the night."

She shot him a look. "And you'll be able to sleep when Rachel is..."

Bradley stopped at the passenger door. "Yeah, probably not."

"Then let's go."

He cocked a brow.

"I have somewhere I want to look." She climbed in and shut the door herself. Because she didn't always need his help, okay? When he climbed in, she said, "Can I look at your phone? I need a map. Mine doesn't do that, and the FBI has it anyway."

He swiped across the screen and handed it to her. "Folder in the middle."

She opened the maps app and found the hotel. Bile rose from her stomach to her throat.

"Where are we going?"

She handed it to him. "There."

"And where is this?"

_God, am I actually going to have to tell him?_ "Somewhere she might be."

That was, if the same person from before was the one who'd kidnapped her now. If he wanted to re-create what had happened.

Alexis grabbed the water bottle in the console and sipped. She didn't care how old it was, she was going to throw up.

"This another one of your secrets, like that passel you were keeping from the FBI?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." _Liar._

"I told them you couldn't keep a secret to save your life."

She rounded on him. "I guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did."

Except that wasn't true, was it? Bradley was the only person who'd broken through. Which was why the awkward scene of the morning after had been so heartbreaking. They'd been so young, and neither of them had really known how to handle something so huge. At the first hurdle, they'd stumbled. Caved to Rachel's overblown surprise and...walked away. She'd been happy for them in her own way. When she'd calmed down. But they'd left things between them to lie in a way that caused her to think about it—about what could've been—every day since.

Bradley huffed under his breath and drove. When he pulled up to the hotel, he said, "Am I coming inside with you, or you want to do this on your own?"

She definitely didn't want to do this alone.

"Let's go then." He cracked his door, and she glanced at his back as he got out.

How did he do that? It wasn't natural for him to be able to just...read her that way. Who did that?

Alexis followed him to the entrance, sickness sloshing in her stomach with every step. She wasn't going to eat for days at this rate. Maybe not until Rachel was back home. Safe, where she belonged.

Not suffering the whims of a sick madman.

Could it really have been Lincoln? He'd been the only one in her house with her during the time the ransom video was sent. But hackers put files in computers all the time. Right? It could've easily been planted and sent remotely, made to look like it was her. Just because she'd stepped out of the room didn't mean Lincoln was one of the kidnappers.

"What?" Bradley's hand on her arm waylaid her at the door.

She shook her head. "I'm just trying to figure this all out."

The FBI would find Lincoln's information in her phone. He'd texted to tell her he was coming over, after all. They'd question him. And if he was involved, then they would figure it out. Alexis didn't need to worry about his guilt. If he was part of the kidnapping, then that meant it had nothing to do with...what happened before. He'd been out of town during that weekend, anyway.

She shook her head. "I have so many thoughts spinning around up here I don't know which way is up."

"Trust that the FBI will find her."

She nodded, pretty sure she didn't look convinced.

"We'll get her back."

"Let's go inside." She didn't need him being sweet again, distracting her. Alexis needed to focus on this. Not on what should've been, wasn't, and likely would never be. That was fruitless. And it didn't get Rachel back.

Bradley apparently needed to realize that for himself. It was nice having him here in the meantime. She wasn't going to cry when he left. Not this time.

Alexis strode up to the front counter. "Is room one-thirteen open?"

The man's dark eyes widened below his turban. "It is you!"

Bradley's warmth hit her back. She wanted to lean into it, to rest there, but couldn't let herself have even that moment of peace. Not in this world she lived in now—the world where she was a harlot, condemned publicly for things people did in private every day.

They didn't know even half the truth of what had happened. But did anyone care? No.

Bradley's hand settled on her hip. "What's this?"

The motel employee spread his hands out, palms up. His name tag said Havi. "Thanks be to you! Business is booming, rooms are booked. Everyone wants to stay in the love motel! You the best thing that ever happened to me!"

Alexis couldn't even blink. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a squeak.

"So room one-thirteen is booked up, then?"

She was so grateful to Bradley just then, she could have collapsed in relief.

Havi lifted a huge iPhone from the desk and held it up. "I know! We take selfie!" He rushed to a door beside the counter.

Before he pushed through, Alexis fled the lobby. There was no way she was going to be part of this guy's marketing plan. No way, no how.

Bradley said something to the man, and joined her outside.

Alexis just walked. She read the room numbers, increasing from one-hundred one on up, and headed for where she figured one-thirteen would be.

"You aren't going to say anything about that?"

"What is there to say?" It was humiliating. But then, that was what she'd agreed to, wasn't it?

"Lex." He tugged on her elbow, but she shook him off.

"Don't. Please." It wasn't like she could tell him the truth, anyway.

She heard him sigh, but didn't turn back. Just tapped her knuckles on the door to one-thirteen. Loud enough she might wake a sleeping person, but not like, _This is the Police!_ loud.

The door swung open. A man in boxer shorts and nothing else blinked at them. "What?"

Alexis looked past him to the room. Mussed bed sheets. A suitcase. Wallet and a phone on the table.

"Nothing. Sorry to disturb you."

She turned away and headed for Bradley's truck. Rachel wasn't here. She'd probably never been here. Maybe this had nothing to do with that. Just because the FBI kept bringing it up—like it was Alexis's motive for hurting her friend—didn't mean the two were related. The kidnapping was about money. It was about Rachel and Bradley's inheritance.

The second she grabbed the passenger handle, he was there, crowding her against the door. No, cocooning her in that warmth. Everything in her wanted to lean into his strength, but he thought the worst of her. What was the point? She would now and forever be tainted.

The last thing she wanted to be was the victim here. But it was so hard. _God, I didn't know it would be this hard._ She'd thought the whole thing through, but fast because there hadn't been much time. She and Rachel had figured out the best plan. Had she known it would be this bad, she'd have thought longer. But the outcome would've been the same, wouldn't it?

Which was why she had to stand fast.

Alexis steeled herself against the onslaught of that muscle memory. The instinctive reflex to lean in to Bradley. To let him take care of her when she had to do this herself.

"Talk to me, Lex."

She shook her head. "Step back."

"Lex. Talk. To. Me." Bradley gently turned her. She picked a spot on his shirt and stared at it, not willing to let him see all the feelings she was no doubt broadcasting on her face. He would know, and she couldn't let that happen to Rachel.

She said, "Back up. _Please_." She could hardly even think when he was this close.

"This is where it happened."

Of course he'd figured it out. He was a smart guy, but this wasn't a complicated puzzle. She should have come alone, but with everything happening she didn't want to be by herself. She wasn't even the target. She shouldn't be this scared when Rachel was the one in so much danger.

Bradley touched her cheek. Her eyes lifted, a reflex she couldn't stop. Maybe she wanted him to find out. No matter the promise she'd made to her friend. Did part of her wish he knew? She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't go back on her word. Not even for him.

"You thought Rachel might be here?"

She nodded again, too choked up to speak.

"So you do think the two are related."

Alexis shrugged one shoulder.

"But she wasn't here," he said. "So do you have any other ideas?"

She opened her eyes then, and glanced around while she thought about it. "Someone who wants your money."

"That fact isn't widely known." A muscle in his jaw worked back and forth. "But it isn't a secret, either. Neither is it a secret that if one of us is incapacitated, the other gets control of the full two million."

"They did their homework."

He frowned. "They picked the weaker link and took her out of play. Targeted me for the ransom drop, and my desire to save my sister."

What was she supposed to say to that? Or was he just thinking aloud?

"I don't care about the money, Lex. I care about getting Rachel back, and nothing else."

"I know." She figured he was right about why the kidnappers had done things this way. Not that Rachel would have let him die to keep her money. No. But she'd have known Bradley could take care of himself. Maybe he wouldn't even have let himself get kidnapped in the first—

Van tires screeched. The door slid open, a roar of metal.

Bradley turned to face the danger, his own instinctive reflex.

Two men jumped out of the back of the van, one a passenger and the other from the driver's seat. Black clothes, black ski masks. They were tall, and built. Huge scary-looking guys. What on earth—

Bradley rushed them. The three collided like a wave breaking on shore, kicking and punching. Alexis wanted to cup her ears against the sick thuds. The fight was vicious like she'd never seen before in her life.

"Go!" Bradley yelled over his shoulder.

She couldn't move her legs.

"Lex, RUN!"

He wanted her to...

One of the men broke away from the fight and headed in her direction. Alexis dropped her purse on the ground and took off down the sidewalk.

# Chapter 9

The next punch landed in Bradley's stomach. All the air in his lungs expelled in one gush. He sucked in a breath and rallied against the man who'd remained.

A punch to the throat. An elbow to the back shoulder.

The guy went down on one knee. He wavered but didn't go down completely, preparing to rally, and come at him again.

Bradley broke away to go after Alexis. One of the men had chased her, instead of sticking with him. He needed to know that she was safe.

"I call police!" The motel employee yelled from across the lot, in the direction of the office.

Bradley pressed all his speed into his feet like a sprinter when the starting gun goes off. Two steps later his leg caught, and he tripped. He turned and kicked the guy holding onto him with his free foot. Boot to the face. Broke the guy's nose. It wasn't pleasant, but this was life. And the world Bradley lived in.

Right now he didn't have his teammates with him. It was just him, and Alexis was in danger.

He cried out as he kicked again, beyond frustrated. Wanting to go after her, but waylaid. Bruises made themselves known all over. He pushed the pain aside, as he'd done for many injuries. Being a SEAL didn't make him immune to getting hurt. Usually he had weapons to fight back with. Not a Glock that was in his truck.

The assailant clipped Bradley's chin with his fist. Hard enough that stars sparked across his vision. He blinked through the sensation and hit back. Grasped the guy, and opted for wrestling. Gravel dug into his knees, and his left hip pressed painfully against the concrete, but Bradley put his weight behind the hold and incapacitated the man as fast as he could.

Sirens in the distance broke through the rush of adrenaline streamlining his thoughts. Good. They could take this guy off his hands while he went to find Alexis.

His assailant punched Bradley in the temple, then pushed with both hands while he fought to keep his hold. Alexis. Was she okay? These two guys hadn't pulled guns, which meant they thought they could overpower him and Alexis without them. This guy wasn't giving up. He was trying to knock Bradley out. Probably so he could stuff him in the van.

He wanted to get to Rachel. Was this the way God had provided?

The distracting thought was enough—the assailant landed another punch, then rolled Bradley to his back.

His head slammed on the concrete.

The sirens were louder now. Or was that the ringing in his brain?

He kicked at the man now trying to turn him, probably to secure his hands. Bradley needed a way to turn the tables back on him, get the man on the defensive instead of continuing to kidnap him. "You'll never get your money if you take me, too."

He would have brought it to them tomorrow, as requested. Why try to take him now? This could all be just a distraction. A way for them to get Alexis as well as Rachel. That had to be why there were two, right? Get them separated. Distract Bradley with a fight, while the other guy took her. No. He couldn't allow Alexis to be taken as well.

Or was Bradley simply not seeing the whole picture here?

He reached up and grabbed the guy's throat. "You're not taking her."

His assailant gritted his teeth and fought off Bradley's hold. It didn't matter who was on top, or who was on bottom. He wasn't going to allow them to take Alexis while he was still breathing.

"You're going to have to kill me."

If they did, that meant Rachel had full control over his half of the two million. Was this their plan? Get rid of him, then they had his sister to sign over control of the money.

Fire burst in his belly and he squeezed the man's throat even harder. No way he'd let them kill him and leave the girls with no one to protect them. He might not have done such a good job of that in recent years. He'd been busy protecting the country instead. Maybe he should rethink that.

But right now wasn't the time to make major life decisions.

His assailant's eyes rolled back in his head. Bradley threw him off and ignored the pain in his knee—probably way swollen by now. He hobbled down the sidewalk and saw the motel employee now holding a shotgun. He said, "Make sure the cops get that guy."

Two black and white vehicles pulled into the parking lot, lights and sirens going. Bradley didn't wait around for them to figure out what was going on.

He headed in the direction Alexis had run, not even having the first clue where to look for her. With the police sirens, he couldn't hear a fight going on. He glanced down the first alley, the deserted street that led to the back of the motel.

"Alexis!"

Where was she? He kept going, moving on some kind of instinct without any clue where it would lead him. "Alexis!"

He didn't see her assailant, either. Had the guy taken her?

He passed the next building, a rundown strip mall. Tattoo parlor, hole-in-the-wall BBQ place and two empty store-fronts. Past that was another deserted road. Dumpsters. "Alexis."

"Bradley." His name was a whimper he barely heard.

He found her crouched behind the trash bin, tears streaming down her face. All the fight went out of him, but he checked around just to make sure the man wasn't still here. Then he crouched, ignoring the fact his left knee didn't want to bend like this. He forced his weight to his right side. "Hey. You okay?"

She nodded and hiccupped a cough.

What was it about her that made him want to take on the world? When she looked at him with the pieces of her broken heart so visible behind her eyes, he wanted to become the softest thing on earth, just so she would never feel pain again.

"Come on." He held out his hand and helped her to her feet with all his weight balanced on one foot. "We should—"

Alexis slammed into his chest. Her arms wound around him and she squeezed like her life depended on it.

Bradley exhaled, then wrapped her up in his arms. "I told you everything is going to be okay." He'd meant it, despite her reaction to his words.

She didn't know what he'd done for his country, the things he was capable of. That was okay. Mostly, he didn't want her to know that. Alexis was all that softness in him, whether she knew it or not. She was his ability to be gentle, or peaceful. The opposite of this roiling mass of frustration and anger that seemed to live inside him all the time.

Maybe God had given her to him to be a source of peace in his life. Like a gift. Wasn't that what couples did for each other? He'd heard a married friend say they filled up where each other lacked. He'd dismissed it at the time, not being married himself. One of those unhelpful things married people said. Like being married was the ultimate achievement everyone should want to obtain.

His life hadn't unfolded like that.

Maybe because he'd met Alexis so young, and things had gone wrong. But still, he hadn't wanted anyone else. Not when no relationship could come close to the connection he'd felt with her. Now he thought that maybe—just maybe—he could believe it.

Alexis sniffed and leaned back. "Sorry. I'm trying not to get snot on your shirt."

"You think I care?" He studied her. "We should go talk to the cops." Though, he'd rather stay here and prolong this moment they seemed to be having. Alexis needed him, and she was finally admitting it instead of shutting him out.

Would she say it out loud? He figured she wouldn't. She probably didn't want to lean on him, even though she was. Likely she wouldn't want to admit she even needed his help.

"Okay." She squared her shoulders, still looking broken.

So cute. He wanted to whisk her away to a cabin in the middle of nowhere—via a pastor, two rings, and some vows—and protect her from anything else like this.

But he had to find his sister first.

And in the process he needed to answer the question of whether their two assailants had wanted her, or him. Or both of them.

He held her hand as they walked back to the motel. The cops had Bradley's assailant in their car, and were speaking with the motel employee.

"There she is!" The man waved at Alexis like he was president of her fan club. He probably was.

Two black SUVs pulled into the lot, and he felt Alexis tense. One of the officers strode over to them while the other remained with the motel employee.

"The two of you okay?"

Alexis nodded. Bradley said, "We're alive."

"I'll need your statements." He frowned at the FBI vehicles. "But if that's who I think it is, it's probably going to have to wait."

Bradley wanted to commiserate with the man, but the bleed off of adrenaline had him wanting to find a seat. Maybe put Alexis in his lap, and just sit. Hold her for a while.

She tugged her hand out of his.

He glanced at her and saw her chin lift. "Agent Walker."

She wanted to face the guy alone? That, or she was trying to protect him by not aligning them together. Too late. As far as Bradley was concerned, they were the home team. No one else. She didn't get it now, but there was no way he was going to let her pass him off. Not even for his own good. That was totally Alexis.

And the reason why one outlandish idea was starting to sound more and more plausible.

Walker came over, pulling out his phone as he walked.

"Did you find my sister, yet?"

The man looked up. "That investigation is ongoing, and when we do you'll be the first to know." He smiled, but it was borderline smirk. "Want to tell me what happened here?"

Bradley gave them a rundown of the attempted kidnapping.

Walker looked at Alexis. "And I suppose you're going to maintain that there's no correlation between Rachel Harris's kidnapping and what went on here?"

"I never said if there was or not. I have no idea, that's why we came here to check. Because we have to do _something._ "

"Leave the investigation to the professionals."

Bradley said, "What are the professionals going to do now that it's evidenced our lives are in danger?"

"Protective custody. Until the ransom deadline."

"Great. Alexis and I can sit tight while you investigate." He liked the idea of her being safe. Enough to agree to them sequestering him in some safe house under guard. He'd bounce off the walls being cooped up like that, but it was about the result. Not the cost.

Walker said, "They were clearly after you so they can have control of all the money."

There was a lot to unpack there. Bradley started with, "They'll get it when I bring it to them to pay the ransom. Why try to kidnap me now?" He paused. "I actually think they were trying to distract me so they could take Alexis."

She gasped.

Walker shook his head. "There's no evidence to suggest that. Could be they wanted you, and the fact Alexis ran made it so the other guy got away. His buddy got arrested, and we'll talk to him, but the other one is still out there. He didn't take her." He motioned dismissively to Alexis.

"We could argue about this all day, or you could simply agree to put her in a safe house with me."

"We simply haven't ruled out Ms. Calvert's involvement enough to convince me you're not in as much danger in close quarters with her as you would be walking the streets alone. Navy SEAL or not." Walker shrugged one shoulder. "Your personal feelings aside, we aren't going to put you in that much risk."

Bradley could feel her stare. Because of Walker's comment about "feelings"? Could be. She should get used to the idea. And honestly, if she _didn't_ know, he would be disappointed. After all they'd shared. All their history. How could she not know?

Then she turned to Walker. "I'm not going to put Bradley in danger. You think I'm involved in this, and I'm _not_."

She'd barely finished before Bradley added, "She isn't."

They were a team.

Walker glanced between them, his attention settling on Alexis. "So you're the first completely honest person I've met in my life, then? You have no idea how many suspects tell me that—"

"Susp—" She sputtered.

"If you didn't want to hurt your friend, why did _you_ leak the video from the hotel room?"

Bradley took a step back. The blow was only words, but he felt it. Alexis was the one who had posted it?

"I see you didn't know," Walker said. "What else hasn't she told you?"

"Lex." It wasn't a chastisement, or a question. He didn't know what it was. Nor did he know what to say.

She didn't meet his gaze.

Walker said, "It's my job to assume the worst. And I'll tell you, I'm usually right."

"You aren't this time." Her voice shook. She touched Bradley's arm and said, "Rachel knew. She knew everything."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Mr. Harris, if you want to be secured in a safe house we should leave soon."

He wanted to tell them to stick it. He wanted to rail, and defend Alexis. To spout more of that stuff about them being a team that he'd been thinking just a minute ago. Everything in him wanted to believe Alexis. To think the best of her. He'd even worked out an alternate scenario, where she'd protected the people she cared about, to satisfy his need to explain it.

But it wasn't true, was it? Otherwise she would have protected Bradley from the fallout of having all his buddies find out what kind of woman his best friend really was. That girl he was hung up on. Making him the world's biggest chump—and everyone knew it.

Still, if he went with the FBI, she could still be in danger. So he faced down Walker and said, "If I go to a safe house, so does she."

"Ms. Calvert can be taken into protective custody, but you aren't going together. That's my final offer."

"How do I know you aren't going to just stick her in a jail cell somewhere?"

"It's fine."

He swung around. "What?"

"Bradley, its fine." Alexis nodded. "I'll go. I don't care where they put me, even if it's jail."

"No—"

"I just want Rachel safe." She held onto both of his arms, just above his elbows. "And you're the one who can do that."

"Not if I'm locked up in a safe house."

"Only until tomorrow. Then you can go get her back."

She didn't care what happened to her, but he did. Bradley glanced at Walker. "Give us a minute."

Walker shrugged and turned away.

"I don't care what he thinks of me. Really, I—"

Bradley touched both her cheeks.

Then he kissed her.

# Chapter 10

Alexis let herself into her apartment. The noise from the neighbors bled through the walls even though it was just before six in the morning. She couldn't remember ever being this tired in her life. So tired it brought tears to her eyes every time she thought of Bradley going with the FBI.

And after he'd kissed her like that.

She dumped her purse, not letting herself even think overly much about the fact that it had not been the kiss of a younger him. It'd been absolutely the kiss of a man. One who knew what he wanted, and was determined to get it. Thereafter he would no doubt make sure it remained safe for the rest of his life.

That kind of determination was palpable, and it had been present there in his kiss.

Foregoing the coffee that would keep her awake when she desperately needed sleep, Alexis grabbed her Bible and headed for her bed. There was so much guilt, she had to pray for forgiveness. But she was just too tired to go look for Rachel anywhere else. She slumped onto the bed covers fully clothed, and her Bible fell open to the middle.

She tipped it up so she could read the verse of Psalms it had opened to. She let the words wash over her like a wave, and swam in the waters of the passage. This whole situation did feel a lot like drowning. She didn't know how to swim to the surface of it. Rachel was gone, and there was next to nothing she could do about it—beyond thinking of places her friend might be.

When the reality was, she had no idea.

And what was that but the proverbial needle in a haystack of places that covered this entire city. If Rachel had even been kept locally. It had been hours since she was taken. They could have gotten her anywhere by now in a vehicle. Maybe even to another country. She was a high profile target, yes. But by the time the feds found her, who knew what condition she would be in?

Alexis turned her head and let the cool sheet soak up the drops of her tears.

She prayed to keep from thinking about what would've happened if Bradley had come with her. Or if she had gone with him. They would've been together right now, having to fight off the aftermath of the kiss. A little separation might scare her more than anything in the world right now, but it was for the best. The FBI didn't think she was in danger, but tell that to her stomach. It just couldn't settle when she thought about the danger she was in, or Rachel, or anything that had to do with Bradley.

She drifted off to a series of vibrant nightmares where she ran down the alley, stalked by some faceless killer. Before Bradley could show up to rescue her, she always woke up. Alone. Wondering if this could really be what God had called her to. She knew all about seasons, and every one being different. For her good. But that didn't mean this wasn't the hardest thing she'd ever gone through.

Around eleven-thirty in the morning, Alexis finally had the brainpower to put on a pot of coffee and take a shower, after which she felt vaguely human. If she was going to have any chance of finding Rachel, she needed to talk to her friend's newest assistant. Alexis had helped choose her replacement from the pool of candidates. Still, she had never met the man.

She found his number on the back of the receipt she'd been using as a book mark. She'd used the scratch paper to jot down thoughts about each candidate. She'd have more information if she still had the computer the FBI had taken, but this would do.

It would take them some time to leaf through her notebooks. Assuming they could read her handwriting. It was possible they might not. And thank goodness she didn't write her journal online, or they would already know everything.

Alexis shook her head even though she was alone. _You're seriously kidding yourself if you think everyone isn't going to find out the truth about what happened._ She figured from what had happened that Bradley was beginning to work it out. He was a smart man, and he was going to realize, even if she never said one word. It was just his way.

While he'd been gone, she had been able to convince herself he'd never find out. Now? There was no way to keep it from him. At least not for much longer.

After filling up a travel mug of coffee, she headed out to the office Rachel leased in a trendy building. It fit with her persona of the young millennial senator. Was the assistant even working today? She hadn't heard anything about him from the FBI, even though he should be a viable suspect. He had only been working for Rachel less than six months. He could be suspicious.

Whether or not he was in the office, Alexis was going to get some answers. Something Rachel had been working on recently could point to the kidnapper, as could anything suspicious in her financials or anyone who had been asking too many questions. It wasn't a secret that Rachel and Bradley were set to inherit a million each on their birthday in a few days. The twins' story had been published in newspapers and magazines around the time Rachel was elected. It could be that someone had bided their time and then taken her from her house, leaving Alexis to take all the blame.

She let herself in the office and knocked on the door as she moved into the waiting area. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

The assistant emerged from the senator's office with a frown on his face. "I hadn't thought you would show your face around here." _After what you did._ It wasn't said out loud, but it was implied.

Alexis was no stranger to this kind of reaction from people, so she just did what she did every other time. Shrugged it off. Said what she needed to say. "I wanted to talk to you, to see if I can help find Rachel."

"The FBI have already been here asking questions. Looking through all of Rachel's computer files. "

"That doesn't mean you haven't thought of something since they left." And yes, she wanted to know what he had told them. But she couldn't act too pushy, or he would push back. "So what do you say? Want to help me try and figure out who did this to Rachel?"

He assessed her, probably just trying to decide if he thought she was guilty or not, then he seemed to make his decision. "There's nothing in recent business that's serious enough to warrant someone kidnapping her. I thought it was all about the money."

Alexis nodded. "I think Bradley is in danger as well. The kidnappers asked for both of their money, and the FBI have put him in police custody to keep him safe."

"Wow, I didn't know that."

"I think the police are keeping things close to the vest. What with this being a high profile story."

"Like I told the feds, I don't know much. I haven't been working here long enough. And Rachel doesn't let me in on everything. I know she's been having some issues with her cousin lately, and he's been showing up at weird times. But that's probably just family stuff."

The FBI had to be looking into that. It gave their cousin motive if he wanted the money Rachel and Bradley were set to inherit. Maybe he was mad that Rachel and Bradley were getting it while he got nothing. Maybe she should call him and find out just where his thinking lay on all this. Get a feel for where he was at.

Lincoln could be a bear sometimes when his back was up.

The assistant shrugged. "Sorry you didn't get what you came here for."

Alexis shook her head. "I appreciate you talking to me, I know it's weird. I'll let you get back to work." She pushed out of the office, praying yet again for Rachel to be safe. She could call Lincoln right now, but the FBI had taken her phone. Maybe she should go by his office. He was a marketing consultant at a small company that wasn't too far from here.

Walking to the Metro station was an exercise in surveillance. She had to use everything Bradley had ever told her about how to make sure somebody wasn't following you. Alexis was pretty sure there _was_ somebody following her, though. Bradley's words about her being in danger kept coming back to her mind. About the fact he'd been distracted so that the kidnappers could try and take her.

That didn't make sense, did it? She wasn't the target here.

The Metro was quiet except for a few military personnel and government workers, along with the odd group of tourists. Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. Who cared about eating when Rachel was in so much trouble? She could even be dead by now for all Alexis knew.

Would they be burying her soon? Alexis would have to look Bradley in the eye and know she was at least partly responsible for what had happened. There was no way to consider any other option. She would just be hurt because she was kidding herself again. Living in denial and not reality, just because she didn't like this life she had now.

He wouldn't kiss her again after that. Alexis would have to live with the memory, hiding it away in her heart so that it kept her warm in all the lonely nights in all the years to come. Yes, that was a little melodramatic, but she was just that tired. Any other time she would've gone to a movie, or gone home and taken a nap. But that wasn't an option right now.

Lincoln wasn't even in his office. She left a message with his secretary to have him come by her house later tonight. After the way he'd left the last time, though, she wasn't sure if he would show up.

Still, the idea he might be involved with this was just crazy. The man was pushy, but that just made him good at marketing. Lincoln was the one who'd stood by her. The only one who hadn't shunned her after what happened. Even Bradley had never returned her call when she tried to explain to him what'd happened. She'd wanted him to know the truth. The truth she'd never even told Lincoln.

Making her way back to the Metro yet again, Alexis couldn't help thinking that she was wasting time. Wandering around the city with no idea who to talk to, or what to do. Even in police custody she'd have had something to do. She could have helped them get more information as to who could've done this. They would have considered it to be another interview of their suspect—her. She would've thought about it differently, though. Who cared if they arrested her, if it made Rachel safe?

Should she go and see the lawyer next? The man with executive power over Rachel and Bradley's parents' estate would surely have something to say about all this. He'd know who had been discontent with the outcome. Maybe even someone had filed a suit to get the wording changed. Could Lincoln have done that? Either Rachel or Lincoln himself would have told her. Wouldn't they? She considered Lincoln her friend. And yet, through all this, it seemed like it was Bradley who'd stayed with her. Until he couldn't anymore.

He was safe. That was all that mattered.

No matter that Alexis had no idea where to go next, other than home where she could sit around doing nothing. Just wondering about her friend. Just praying.

That should be enough, and it was. She just had to remember that, and stand on that firm foundation.

Emerging from the Metro station closest to her apartment, Alexis stepped off the escalator onto the sidewalk and headed for home. She purchased a few things from the corner store so she could at least make toast and eggs when she got home. The cashier nodded and handed over the receipt, along with her change. Alexis pocketed the coins and the paper and she stepped between the automatic doors.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. That wasn't exactly what happened, but how else was she supposed to explain how it felt? She was pretty sure she had been followed this whole time. What was different now? The sensation of being watched wasn't in itself malicious. So what had her senses waking up and registering fear?

She headed for her apartment, wondering if she should have ducked back into the store and asked to use their phone. She didn't have a landline in her place, and the FBI still had her phone. She'd have to pray that somebody saw her being attacked, or saw someone trying to kidnap her, for the police to be called. Otherwise she would just be that suspect trying to distract everyone's attention by pretending to be in danger.

She headed up the stairs in her building, the walls of the place not making her feel more secure. She had never been safe in this home, or even felt that way. Even though she called it that. Home.

Home wasn't the place you lived. It was people who knew who you were to the very core of your being and still cared about you. Never mind the mess and the dysfunction. They just loved you anyway. She shut the door as a tear traced its way down her cheek. Rachel was that for her. At one point Bradley had been that. Now, she didn't even know.

And yet how could she be so selfish?

She stowed the groceries but didn't make anything to eat. That would've been selfish as well, when she didn't know if her friends were even alive.

She had just shut the fridge when someone banged on the front door.

# Chapter 11

Bradley stood at the kitchen window of the safe house and clutched the phone to his ear. "Thank you, Selena. If you could have Marshall call me back when he gets in, that would be great."

He hung up and set the phone on the counter. Tried to figure out what else he was supposed to be doing. Calling the lawyer had been a bust. Marshall hadn't come into work yet today, and neither did he have any appointments. But Selena didn't think there should be any reason why he wouldn't show up to the office.

Should he be worried?

Bradley wandered through to where one of the agents sat at the dining table, setting up a workstation. "Someone probably needs to head to the lawyer's home. He never showed up to work today."

The guy blinked. "Huh?"

"My lawyer. The man who is going to release the money to me. He didn't show up for work."

"Oh," the man said. "I'm sure Walker knows that."

"Someone needs to check."

Bradley didn't want to be telling them how to do their jobs, but the man could be dead or in danger. Why not kidnap the lawyer as well, if they're trying to get their hands on the money? Who else knew what Marshall knew about how to obtain it from the account it was currently locked in? If it was Bradley, he would want to utilize every resource. Exhaust every avenue he could. If he was greedy enough to kidnap for money.

Instead, he was just scared for his sister and worried about Alexis. He'd been praying nonstop since they left her in the parking lot. Walker had promised him that the other agents would look out for her.

Was she in a safe house as well? Or were they making sure she was safe at home?

He didn't want to think this would last more than a few days. The ransom demand instructions had told him to bring the money tomorrow. But what if they never found Rachel? What if it was all just a ploy, and she was already dead? He wanted to have faith but things didn't always work out the way he wanted them to. Take him and Alexis for example. Nothing that had happened between them had been what he thought.

He remembered that morning, the perfect clarity of one of his worst days. Alexis had clammed up. Bradley hadn't known what to say. And Rachel had done her usual over-the-top, exuberant reaction. Between the three of them, they'd totally failed to communicate with each other. He and Alexis most of all. Regret that he hadn't just told her—explained he wanted what they had to be permanent—had eaten away at him every day since. And now all he wanted was for God to give him the chance to make things right. To have the relationship he and Alexis should've had from the beginning.

To be man and wife.

While the agent made calls, and yet more calls, Bradley paced the house. They'd assured him he couldn't be found here, but no security was completely foolproof. In fact, Alexis had been the one to tell him that one of the Secret Service agents on Rachel's detail played a part in her kidnapping. That meant the kidnappers had gotten to him and made him a deal he hadn't been able to refuse.

Tomorrow he would go out in public again, and try to make a deal of his own with the kidnappers. He would turn over the money in exchange for his sister's safety. The agents had said they would coach him on what to say, but Bradley figured he would fall back more on his SEAL training than anything they told him. Even if they were experts on this stuff.

Bradley was an expert on keeping his family safe.

He tried to imagine what it would be like having Alexis here. If they were married, she would've come with him. Then again, she would've never ended up in the situation that had destroyed her reputation. He would have kept her safe from herself, if she needed that. Having her here with him would at least have given him someone to talk to who was on his side. Not that the FBI was his enemy, but Alexis knew him. She knew the way he felt for his sister, and she would've sat with him to wait. She'd have spent this time with him making his day brighter. The way she had so many times before.

"Bradley?"

"In the den," he called out.

When the agent crossed the threshold, he saw it wasn't Walker, but one of his buddies. Agent Simons was older, and seemed to have a lighter touch. Dark skin furrowed on his forehead and he said, "Agent Peters said you wanted us to go by the lawyer's office?"

Bradley nodded.

"Why don't you tell me about him?" Simons motioned for him to sit, then took the chair across from him. "He was your father's lawyer, correct?"

"He was. I remember him at Thanksgiving a few times when I was growing up. I think he was separated from his wife at the time and came to spend the holidays with us. He seemed like a nice guy."

Simons nodded and used his index finger to type on his phone. "Have you been to see him recently?"

"I know he called and left a message about meeting with him ahead of the money being released. I assume he did the same with Rachel. He may have even planned for us to go together."

What this had to do with the kidnapping, he didn't know. Bradley said, "You can't think he was involved with this, can you? Marshall is an old friend of my father's. He would never do anything to hurt us, least of all for the money. If he wanted to do it, he'd have just found a way to transfer it out of the account while it looked like it was still there. Right?"

Simons scrunched up his nose for a second. "We have to look into every angle. Your sister's current assistant seems to be clean, but it could be someone else connected to you."

"Or it could be someone who worked at the bank and overheard. Or someone who saw the news report about our parents and wanted to cash in. Some people will do basically anything for payout, right?"

"That is true. And cynical for someone as young as you are." Simons gave him a wry smile. "We're going to find your sister, and make sure that money never leaves the account."

"Just worry about Rachel. The money doesn't mean anything to me, and if this kidnapper knew anything at all about me and the kind of man I am, he'd have just called me and asked for it."

"You don't think that's what the ransom video was?"

"I think scaring my sister half to death was pointless, considering I'd have just handed it over. And that's exactly what I'm going to do tomorrow."

"You gotta be careful, son. If you're too eager to hand over the money it could cost your sister her life."

"I'm not going to do anything that will put her safety in jeopardy. Which is why I need you to find her before I go to that meeting."

Simons nodded. "We're working on that."

"You guys keep saying that, but I'm not seeing a whole lot of results. Walker is focusing on Alexis for whatever reason he has in his head. That's not going to lead anywhere."

"You don't think it's significant the ransom video was sent from her computer?"

Bradley said, "Hackers can fake that stuff. Maybe they even rented the apartment next to hers and ghosted her computer. Who knows? I'm not a techie guy, but I figure it's not all that hard to do that stuff. Or to hire somebody who can do it for you."

Simons nodded, considering what he'd said. "If that's true, we'll figure it out. You just worry about your part in this."

Bradley got up. "I can do that. If you guys go check on the lawyer. There's no reason why anyone else should get hurt. It's the last thing Rachel or I want to happen. Or Alexis, for that matter."

Bradley didn't really care what it said about him that he kept bringing Alexis into this. That he was still just as convinced as he had been at the first that she wasn't a part of this kidnapping. Sure, he had questions for her. He wanted to know the answer to a lot of things. But that didn't mean she was a kidnapper, or conspirator. Alexis had never cared about money that much. And she would never be a party to hurting Rachel.

Bradley went back to pacing while the agents did their thing on the phone and the computers. He prayed more. Paced. Prayed. Rachel was his twin. Wouldn't he know if she were dead? They'd both been hurt before, and neither had felt anything the way some twins did. Most of that stuff was myth, or unsubstantiated rumors. He'd never experienced more than the compulsion to pray for her, or Alexis. That was a recent thing, since he'd been saved. But he got the impression it was pretty normal for believers to get a sudden urge to lift someone up in prayer. He liked being part of that. Connected to them, even though he wasn't with them.

"He's not gonna like it, but you have to tell him."

Bradley turned to the agents. Simons saw immediately that Bradley had heard, and indicated to the other agent who turned in his chair.

"What?"

"I got a new report from the tech going through Alexis's computer."

He waited, bracing for whatever it was they seemed to think was going to rock him. If he was going to stand by her—for better or worse was the plan—then he had to keep his faith in her intact. It didn't matter what else had been planted by hackers, or what she'd done herself. Alexis was the woman he knew, and nothing was going to change that.

"She's been looking into the lawyer."

"Okay."

The agent sighed. "The whole thing paints a picture of someone entirely too caught up in your lives. Your sister has severed all connection with her, and yet Alexis still seems to be firmly in the business of your family. And that money."

"Did whoever you sent to the lawyer get there yet?"

The agent checked his phone. "I'm expecting them to call when they do."

"Then there's nothing else to say."

The agent's phone rang then, and Bradley listened.

"Really?" The agent blinked, then lifted his gaze to Simons. "Okay. Thank you." He hung up and turned to Bradley. "Looks like you were right. I'm sorry to say Marshall Phelps was found dead in his house this morning. They're estimating he was killed at least thirty-six hours ago."

"Before Rachel was taken."

The agent nodded.

"So whoever took her tried Marshall first, got nowhere, and put their plan B into place."

"Could be."

He was sick of them telling him all his ideas were possible. Like he was dealing in subjection. Bradley was trying to figure this out, that was all. Trying to nail down what this person was thinking. How desperate they were. How badly they wanted that money.

Then he'd know what they were willing to do to get it.

The agent turned away and clicked through windows on his computer. For a second it went gray-ish, though still with some color. Like an Instagram filter. Rachel?

"Hey." He moved to the man's shoulder and pointed. "Go back."

Because seriously, did the man have a video of Rachel on his computer? It wasn't one Bradley had ever seen before.

The agent flushed.

"Show him."

On Simons's order, the guy clicked back through until the image came up. Not Rachel actually, it was Alexis. Why had he thought it was Rachel? They didn't look so much the same to him, other than the matching tattoo on the backs of their shoulders. The same flower, just in different colors. They'd sworn up and down it was nothing but a college mistake—then they'd looked at each other and laughed.

"What is..."

Alexis moved, speaking with a man. "Is that her apartment?"

"It is."

"Does she know you installed cameras?" He glanced at the guy long enough to know the answer. "I guess not." He shook his head until the man turned, and he got a look at the guy's face. "Why is she talking to my cousin?"

He didn't even like Lincoln. Something about the guy had always seemed off, and not just because he had a father who epitomized the greedy old man persona he wore in public. He'd thought Lincoln was estranged from his dad. If he wasn't, Bradley couldn't think of anyone who might want to take their money more than those two.

Simons said, "Walker is outside. He's also listening to the feed."

"Is that even legal?"

The argument had gotten heated now. Lincoln looked like he was about to blow. As a kid, that meant massive tantrums. It didn't seem he'd grown out of that phase since. And why was a grown man having a hissy fit, anyway? Alexis didn't need that right now. And she didn't seem to be reacting well, either. Her shoulders were low, her body curled into itself.

Neither of the agents responded to his last comment. They might want to find Rachel as much as he did, but what was the point in Walker breaking the rules? They'd get her back, but not have evidence they could use for a conviction. The FBI couldn't make a case on a confession. And besides, Alexis didn't need to confess to something she hadn't done. How did they think bugging her apartment would lead them to Rachel?

Lincoln lifted his hand and slapped her across the face. Alexis's eyes widened on the screen and she touched her cheek.

"Send someone in," Bradley said. "She needs help."

"Walker will make that call."

Bradley leaned both palms on the desk facing Simons and said in a low voice, "Get him in there now. Before he really hurts her."

Bradley was miles away. Lincoln could kill her before he got there. Or he could kidnap her. Did he know the FBI was outside? What was he so mad about, and why couldn't Bradley hear the audio?

"Turn it up."

The other agent said, "Chill, okay? Getting worked up doesn't help your sister. We get that you care about this other girl, but Walker is on it."

"Call him and tell him to get. In. There. _Now_."

Simons got up. "I will cuff you and stick you in the bedroom until tomorrow if you push me."

"Then tell Walker to help her."

Couldn't they see that she needed it?

Simons looked at his phone. "Walker is going to wait. He thinks if this Lincoln guy pushes her then she'll give up something."

"Or Lincoln is the one behind this."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because of his father." Did Bradley really think his uncle and cousin might be guilty? Was Lincoln the "friend" at her apartment when the video was sent? Had he betrayed their family for money, for his father? Bradley had no idea.

He pushed out a breath. "It's not like I have evidence, sitting in this safe house."

"Then let us do our jobs."

# Chapter 12

"I need to stay, Lincoln." Alexis sighed. He was getting more and more pushy, the longer he was here. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to leave." The FBI didn't want her anywhere near this investigation. And she wanted them focused on finding Rachel, not proving her guilt.

"You'll be safer with me than shut up in this crap hole you call an apartment."

What was she supposed to say to that? "I just don't think—"

"That's your problem." His lips curled up on one side, but it didn't look like he was amused. "Thinking too much."

"I should stop thinking?"

"If you're making stupid decisions, yeah. I mean, the FBI thinks you're behind all this."

She regretted telling him that.

"You're letting it cloud your judgment. Acting like you have something to hide." He paused. "Do you have something to hide?"

First she was stupid for thinking, and now she was keeping secrets? Alexis pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Does it matter?" She never wanted him to know the truth.

"If it'll save Rachel's life, you should broadcast it from the rooftops."

She shook her head. "One has nothing to do with the other."

"Don't brush me off. I don't like it when people do that."

"I'm sorry." She knew how his father treated him—like nothing he did was ever good enough, or worth anything. But plenty of people had tough backgrounds. Why did he have to get so worked up about it all?

"No, you're not," he snapped. "Don't pretend."

That wasn't fair. "I'm just trying to explain why I should stay here."

He huffed again. "This is all your fault, you know. And I think maybe the FBI are right."

"I would never hurt Rachel!" Why did she keep having to tell people that? Wasn't it obvious that Rachel was her best friend, even now? They'd all bought the line that her "behavior" had been exposed finally, and Rachel had to brush her off as a liability. Did that have to change how Alexis treated her?

"But you did hurt Rachel, didn't you? And now she's been kidnapped."

"That doesn't have anything to do with me. For a second I actually thought it was you who did it when they told me the ransom video came from my computer. _You_ were the one that was here when it was sent."

"So now you're going to push this all off on me."

"I'm not trying to hurt you. I—"

His open palm hit her.

Alexis took a step back and held her hand to her cheek. That seriously hurt. "What—" Never would she have thought Lincoln—of all people—would hit her. "Do you treat all your friends this way? Just snap, and suddenly slap them?"

"You think we're friends?"

"We aren't anymore. Not after that." She wanted to walk away, but this was her home. "You should leave. Now."

"I don't think Rachel wants that."

She gasped, her cheek still hot and stinging. She whispered, "So, you are involved."

He leaned close and said, "You would know." Lincoln's face had twisted, losing the façade of nice. She didn't even know people could actually do that. She'd been so blind. He said, "After all, this whole situation is on _you._ You're behind it all."

"What did I do?" She asked, took shocked to do anything but speak in a low voice. She sounded hurt, but couldn't help it.

He huffed. "I think you know."

She lifted both hands. "I have no clue why Rachel was kidnapped, except for her money. Where is she?" Alexis moved closer to him. "Tell me where she is."

If he told her, then she could let the FBI know. Or they could haul him in to questioning the way they'd done with her. Lincoln would tell them.

Where was her phone?

The FBI still had it. Why hadn't she gotten a landline? Right, she had no money for a landline. Did money matter when Rachel's life was in danger? There had to be something Alexis could do to help her friend.

"I mean it, Lincoln. Tell me where she is or..." She didn't know what.

His laugh was a low, dark chuckle. "I'm _so_ scared, Lex."

"Don't call me that. You're the one who said we're not friends. So get out of my apartment." Then she could ask one of her neighbors to let her use their phone to get ahold of the FBI. Walker had to listen. He had to. Lincoln was part of this. "I said, get out."

He reached for her elbow. "You're coming with me."

She tried to step back, but he was faster than her. "No. I'm not. Let go of me!"

Why was he acting like this? Sure, he'd been pushy earlier, but this was way past that. She wanted to believe in her friend, but was he involved in Rachel's kidnapping? And now he was trying to take her as well. Was this really just for the money, or could it actually be about what had happened as well?

"Let's move."

"I don't have shoes on!" It wasn't the most important thing, but it was the first thing she thought of. He stalled, long enough for her to slip on some sneakers she kept laced up, then dragged her to the hall.

"Nice and easy." He left the door of her apartment open. "We're going to walk nice and easy past those feds outside."

There were feds outside?

"Not one peep from you. Two friends going out, no problem. You're going to do everything I say, or I make one phone call and Rachel gets a bullet between her eyes."

"Bradley won't give you anything if you kill her."

"He'll give me whatever I want. He doesn't have to know she's dead."

Alexis blinked away tears as they reached the base of the stairs and the empty lobby. Why was no one here? _God, please let someone see us._ The feds wouldn't let Lincoln take her with him, would they? They should have looked into him when they went through her phone. Why hadn't they?

He'd covered his tracks. That was the only explanation. And now he expected to get away with this.

"Why are you taking me?"

The truth was, she actually wanted to go to Rachel. To be with her friend. That would be the first thing in all this she'd be able to do that might help. Support her friend. Keep her from being so scared. With the added bonus that the FBI could follow her and Lincoln to where Rachel was being held.

Still, she had to know. Lincoln had a plan, and she wanted him to tell her what it was.

"Tell me why you're dragging me out here."

"You're gonna make things right." He squeezed her arm so hard she could feel the bruise forming. "And then I'm going to cut off your fingers until Rachel signs that paper."

Her friend wouldn't give up her money? "You don't need her signature. Bradley will give you all of it."

He pushed the front door open and said, "You still think this is just about the money?"

She looked around, trying to see where the FBI were.

"Act normal." He muttered a curse. "You're supposed to want to go with me, remember?"

"I should scream the whole street down."

"Rachel would die."

"Not if the feds got you before you could make that call—"

He grabbed her jaw, his palm over her mouth, and squeezed her mouth so hard those gathering tears fell.

"I see you get me." He let go and started walking again.

"I won't be leverage for you to hurt Rachel."

"Then I'll just kill you. Or give you to someone who will have fun with you, then they'll kill you."

"What kind of monster are you?"

"It's survival of the fittest. That's why I'm so sure you're going to die. You'll quickly outlive your usefulness, Alexis. In my world, being useful and making sure people owe you is how you stay alive."

"This is America."

"Maybe not the America you know."

She knew there was an underbelly to any society. Those who lived and died in the dark, killers or victims. It was easy to want to live above it all. To keep herself safe and protected from anything—or let Bradley do that for her. But how did knowing about it now help her situation?

_Bradley_. She wanted him to swoop in and rescue her, but he wasn't going to. He was safe with the FBI and she was going to Rachel. That was good. She'd see her friend. Hug her. Tell her they were going to get out of this, even though she didn't have the first clue how that was going to happen.

"FBI, freeze!"

Lincoln swung her around to face the approaching agents. Two of them, guns drawn.

Alexis lifted her hands. A reflex even before her brain spun with thoughts and questions. Lincoln's arm wrapped around her neck and the cold metal of a gun pressed against her head. "Don't come any closer or I'll kill her."

She couldn't think well enough to get out any words. All that emerged from her mouth was a strangled noise.

They stepped closer. "Drop the gun and let her go."

She figured they just didn't want her dead on a city street. Walker probably wouldn't have cared what happened to her—except the loss of a possible suspect. These guys didn't care anything about her. It wasn't shocking to them that she was about to die.

Or they were trained not to show any empathy. Maybe that was it...and why was she thinking about this?

"Lincoln, let me go and leave." She focused on one of the agents. "They'll let you go, right guys?"

He took a step back, hauling her with him. The pressure of his arm across her throat threatened to choke her. As it was, she could hardly swallow. The two agents moved toward them.

"Lincoln." She breathed. "Please, let go."

"Back off!" He yelled at the agents. "No one gets near me." He took another step back. Toward his car? What was he going to do? They had guns on him, but he probably figured they weren't going to fire if it meant they could hit her. She didn't want to be protected like that. She wanted to go to Rachel.

"Lex!" Bradley's voice.

He was here? She tried to look around, but Lincoln's hold on her kept her head only at one angle. "Bradley!"

He was going to try and save her.

"Let her go, Lincoln. Now!"

"Everyone just back up," one of the agents called out. "Give them some space."

"My finger's getting tired," Lincoln told them. "If you want her to live, you'll let me get in my car."

"That isn't happening." Bradley.

"Let him go," she argued. They could follow him to where Rachel was, right? Then Bradley would be able to get her back.

The whole ransom demand, and Bradley going to turn over the money in exchange for his sister, was all dissolving into ruins. Lincoln had to go—with or without her. He shouldn't have tried to take her, especially knowing the feds were outside. Why had he, except because of whatever personal grudge he had against her?

What was so desperate to warrant his actions? She didn't think she wanted to know, but she had to figure it out. A disagreement? A shot in the dark to complete the paperwork for the money?

She couldn't help thinking this might not just have to do with the money, but something else entirely. Lincoln seemed to think this was all on her. Like she was responsible for Rachel being kidnapped. How was that even possible when she had nothing to do with it?

Alexis prayed they'd find her friend, prayed the truth would come out. She swallowed. Maybe not all of it. There was enough fallout in her life without the public also knowing the story they'd been fed was wrong. But Lincoln—he needed to be seen for what he really was.

"Let me go, and _go_."

"Enough." The voice came from behind them.

Lincoln spun her and she saw Walker for a second, before he swung them back. Bile rose in her stomach as the dizziness spun her equilibrium.

"Drop the gun and put your hands on your head. You're not a killer, son. Don't make this any worse than it's gonna be."

Lincoln's heart raced in the wrist pressed against her throat. She was going to pass out in a second if she didn't get any air.

"Everyone, back off." The gun moved, then pressed harder against her head.

She winced, and more tears fell.

"There's nowhere to go now," Walker said. "You make one move except to lay down that weapon and we'll shoot. You don't wanna die, so this only ends one way. You let the woman go and set it on the ground." His voice was hard and full of authority. A man used to giving orders that were obeyed.

Alexis's gaze wouldn't settle. It just flicked over the scene, desperately grasping for a sight of someone who would give her hope. _Bradley._ Where was he? She needed him, but knew Rachel needed her family—Alexis or Bradley—even more than she. Her friend was all alone.

God, help her.

The tension in Lincoln's body had eased, even if only in a small part. Was he going to drop the gun? He exhaled, his breath warm on the back of her neck. He'd resigned himself to something. She wished she knew what that was.

His fingers moved on her shoulder and he grasped a handful of her shirt. Pulled her forward, away from his body. She swayed with the motion and nearly fell forward before she caught herself and stumbled.

Someone grabbed her. Bradley's scent enveloped her just as as her face landed against his chest. She took hold of the sides of his shirt, by his hips, and spun. "Lincoln."

This wasn't right. He was supposed to lay the gun down.

He still held it.

"Put it down!"

"Drop it!"

Lincoln's gaze came to her, and he lifted the weapon. Bradley sprang into action, moving her away from the crowd faster than her feet could move her.

Gunshots rang out.

She turned to look, but he pulled her face into his chest and said, "Don't."

Alexis shook her head. "He knows where Rachel is."

She turned and saw Lincoln lying on the pavement in a pool of blood. His eyes, dead. "He could have told us."

"It's too late now." Bradley's hold on her didn't let up. "He knew what was going to happen. He chose to die."

"Then Rachel is going to die, too."

# Chapter 13

Bradley set the mug of tea on the table in front of Alexis. She sat, braiding her hair, her gaze out the window. Her thoughts a mile away. The big padded chair in the FBI conference room dwarfed her frame, making her look younger. As did the braids. That, and the shell-shocked look on her face didn't make him feel better.

"Lex?"

She winced and looked at him, then at the tea. She dropped the braid. He pulled a chair close to her while she blew on the tea and took a sip. "Thanks."

"It's nothing." He wished it was more.

After seeing her frightened panic, and Lincoln's arm across her throat, he still hadn't relaxed. He wanted to rage. Or punch something. He'd known what it felt like to be helpless before. Bradley didn't like it one bit.

"I'm trying not to be freaked out by you, but you're not making it easy."

Bradley leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Sorry." He needed to bleed off this anxiety and relax.

She shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. It's not your fault. I'm on edge as much as you are."

He took her hand and said, "Want to tell me about you and Lincoln?"

"Not really."

"Humor me." Because there had to be some kind of connection. Between their friendship and the fact Rachel had been kidnapped. "What's with you and my cousin?"

"You mean, what _was_ with me and him." She sighed, and he knew he didn't need to respond to that. Just a symptom of the shock. Alexis had to state some things out loud, just to force her brain past that thought and onto the next one.

"I keep seeing him lying there." She winced, shook her head. "I don't even think he liked me, not really. I thought we were friends, but that was before he tried to..." Her voice trailed off.

Bradley stilled. "He tried to what?"

Alexis continued, not answering his question. "There was always something...off about him, but he was nice to me. He stayed my friend, even after everything came out... He was nice to me."

Now wasn't the time to ask her about that. He needed her to talk this out. To get past the fear.

"Yesterday he got pushy. Like he thought we should be...involved." She glanced up and saw whatever was on his face. Probably nothing good. "I turned him down. He didn't take it well. Then today, he kept saying all this was my fault. Like I'm the reason Rachel was kidnapped, and I was going to have to fix things. But what do I have to do with the money?"

Bradley shook his head. His parents had loved Alexis, but it wasn't like they'd put her in their will. If anything happened to both Bradley and Rachel, the money went to a charity. "Lincoln might've wanted the money for himself."

"Or his father does. I always thought it was odd that he didn't just keep the old man out of his life, but I guess some abused kids stick with what they know."

"Uncle Francis was horrible to him."

Alexis nodded. "He told me some stories, and I wondered if it didn't mess him up. But why go after the money? Did he, or they, really want it for themselves?"

"Could be they felt slighted when the will was read. Figured they deserved some of it." But that meant Lincoln had been working with his father to get the twins' inheritance.

"And to take Rachel just to get their hands on it?" Alexis frowned.

Why did that seem so cute to him? He wanted to kiss the crinkle between her eyebrows. He said, "The FBI are finding Uncle Francis. They're unpacking Lincoln's life so they can figure out to what extent he's involved."

"Like, if he's the mastermind, or just working on someone else's orders?"

Bradley nodded.

"What about you? Did they send you in here to find out if I'm involved as well?" She straightened in the chair. Bracing for a blow she thought was coming.

"I know you're not."

"Walker doesn't seem convinced. He glared at me the whole way here in the car."

"Lex, he's pissed someone got killed before he can get answers. He's determined to get to the bottom of this, even if it's just so he doesn't break his professional streak at finding kidnap victims."

"He seemed pretty determined to prove I was involved. He's probably looking for a link between Lincoln and me."

"Is there one?"

"We're friends. Texts. Phone calls. Emails. We're connected like that."

"When you were explaining there was a friend over during the time the ransom video was sent, you mentioned texts. The FBI didn't find anything but bland conversation with an unregistered phone."

"So Walker thinks I'm communicating in code with the kidnappers, that being Lincoln?" She glanced at the window. "Too bad he's dead, so Walker can't get it from the horse's mouth that when I said, 'I'll see you soon' that I actually meant _I'll see you soon._ "

"I know you're worried." Though, she didn't look worried. She looked more scared.   
"But the truth will come out."

"Before or after the kidnappers find out Lincoln is dead and cut their losses? Shoot Rachel and move on to a less complicated target."

Bradley said, "I can't think about that. I'm barely holding myself together as it is. When I saw you on that screen and Lincoln slapped you I just... I lost it." He'd already told her they'd shown up because of the FBI surveillance. She hadn't taken it well.

And didn't do more than press her lips together now. "I'm sorry. You don't need my drama when you're worried about Rachel."

"That's not it. I'm worried, but you're here and I can help you. Or try, at least."

"That was what I wanted to do for Rachel. Be there."

He sat back in his chair. "You wanted him to take you?"

She shrugged. "For a minute there I figured it would be better than sitting here doing nothing. Or getting accused of being involved."

"When Walker asked you who was at your house, why didn't you give him Lincoln's name?" It came out a little shorter in tone than he'd have liked. "Trying to protect him?"

"At the time, yes. I didn't want someone I considered a friend being subjected to the same treatment I was. Do I wish I hadn't? Yeah. If it meant Rachel would have been found already."

The tears in her eyes were enough to wear him down. "You didn't know. He kept it from you, so how could you?"

"I knew something was wrong."

"But not this."

There was more she wasn't saying. He could see it in her eyes. "You can tell me anything, Lex. I want you to know that I'll never think less of you no matter what."

"Don't say that."

He read the truth on her face. She didn't want him to make it easier for her to say it. She wanted to keep her own confidence. Keep those walls between them, so she didn't have to brave the vulnerability of letting him in. Bradley had known her long enough he could see all that in her eyes as well.

"I really thought Lincoln was my friend."

He didn't tell her that he'd have set her straight, had she told him. He knew things about his cousin that would send her running.

"How am I supposed to trust anyone?"

"Even me?"

"You know what I mean," she said. "I'm going to doubt my judgment and always wonder if I'm being duped. Again."

He knew this was, at least in part, about her distracting him from the conversation they'd been having. But she didn't say anything without a reason. She really was worried.

He scooted his chair closer to her. "You can trust me, Lex. I promise you that I'm never going to do anything that will cause you to regret believing in me. And I'll never take your trust for granted."

He was going to protect her. He figured she thought she was protecting him—even if she was doing it by keeping her secrets. She was determined to keep hold of the one thing she still had left. The shreds of her honor. Alexis would never do anything but safeguard the people she loved. And she was about to get a healthy dose of what it meant for him to do the same for her.

He lifted halfway out of his chair and kissed her forehead again. "I'll be back."

When, he didn't know. But it was a promise he was going to keep. Alexis could be sure of that.

So long as she was here with the FBI, she was safe.

Bradley was going to get his sister back.

God, help this to work.

He nodded to an agent who noticed him walk toward the hallway. When the guy looked away, Bradley ducked into the stairwell. Two minutes later he strode out into the underground parking lot where he'd left his truck hours ago.

The FBI was going to know he'd left, but he didn't have time to worry about that. He had to do this—preferably faster than they could scramble to catch up to him.

They were likely also monitoring his cell phone, which he'd managed to retrieve from one of the agents who'd been on his security detail. He would get in trouble for this. But if it worked, he wasn't going to complain when they slapped him on the wrist. Alexis was safe, and he was going to make it so Rachel was as well.

Bradley pulled past the barrier. The guard station. Onto the street, where he headed south. He connected his phone to the truck's Bluetooth and called the number that had been communicating with Alexis. Lincoln's phone, the one the FBI had never found. Would it even be turned on? If they thought they could be tracked through it now, it might have been tossed.

The call rang through to a voicemail account for that number, a generic message. When the tone sounded, he gripped the wheel and said, "I want my sister. You want the money. It's time to end the games and just make the trade. We all get what we want, everyone walks away happy, and no one else gets hurt."

He was letting his vulnerability show. They'd know he had a weakness—the people he loved getting hurt—but Bradley was past caring. This needed to be done. Now.

"Pick the place and time, and I'm there."

Bradley ended the call and tossed the phone in the cup holder. He navigated D.C. traffic, weaving between lanes and making random turns. As soon as they contacted him—if they did—he would toss the phone out the window.

If the FBI caught up with him before then, so be it. He wasn't going to apologize for what he'd done. He was a SEAL, and SEALs didn't sit back while someone else took care of the people in their lives. They were front line. Battle-ready. This was a gamble, but if it really had been Lincoln and his father—Bradley's uncle—behind this, then it was a family issue.

And family was what it would take to resolve it.

The FBI didn't care about his sister the way he did. They only cared that it would be high-profile if they lost a kidnapped senator. They'd kept the whole thing under wraps so far. He was marginally impressed at the way they'd locked the whole situation up tight. No one even knew there were dead Secret Service agents and a missing civil servant.

Bradley needed someone at his back, though. So he made the call.

"Preston."

"It's Bradley. I got a problem."

"Your sister has been kidnapped, and you're headed to trade the money for her freedom."

Bradley's foot slipped off the gas. "How did you know that?"

"We've been working this since the 9-1-1 call went out from her house."

Relief washed over him. "I called you that night."

"I know. I had a team member get injured on an op and I was at the hospital most of the night. But I put a couple of the guys on it straight away."

Bradley said, "I could really use some backup on this."

"Two cars behind you. A red BMW."

"That's you?"

"One of my guys. Quartz." Steve said, "I realize now I should have put a man on the former assistant. That was my bad. We honestly didn't know there was a connection between you. Quartz said when she almost got shot..." He went quiet for a second. "Well, let's say we're now devoting resources to maintain her continued safety."

"I appreciate that." His insides were still chilled at the idea of Alexis getting hurt.

"Tell me when and where the meet is, and I'm there," Steve said. "Quartz will provide cover."

"Will do. Then I'm going dark. I have to keep the feds from barging in."

"Copy that."

"Thank you." Bradley swallowed down the rush of emotion.

"Anytime. You know that, right? No matter what you decide about the job, Double Down is here for you."

Bradley scrubbed his hand down his face. "I really appreciate that." He hung up and kept driving, not wanting to think on the tremble in his voice when he'd said that. Just the fact his friend was already pitching in meant a whole swath of the stress was gone now. He had backup.

He didn't get far before a text came through.

Gravelly point. One hour. No feds.

Bradley looked for the red BMW, but didn't see it. It was still there, though, he was sure. This Quartz person was just good at surveillance. He forwarded the message to Steve and got a reply back straight away.

I'll be there.

Bradley tossed the phone out a window, drove a mile down the street and pulled into a parking lot. He sat and thanked God for his friend being able to take his back on this. There was no way he wanted to face the kidnappers alone. Whether it was his uncle or not, he wasn't looking forward to the showdown this was going to be. And yes, he could have the FBI with him, regardless of what the message said. But they would want to take over. To run the operation and leave him with no say as to how it went down.

Bradley had planned missions. They might be professionals, but so was he, and he'd rescued kidnap victims the world over. This was what he did. And the fact this was looking like a family issue made him all the more sure he should be the one to face these guys down.

_God, am I just trying to convince myself this is the right move?_ Truth was, even with all he'd seen and done he didn't think he'd ever been this scared in his life. Rachel could die. She could be dead already for all he knew.

The money. He couldn't say he didn't care at all about it. Truth was, those dollars were a part of his parents he wanted to share in. He could start his own business, or do some other good with it. If he didn't give it away to criminals.

But it wasn't worth more than Rachel's life.

He pulled into the parking lot at Gravelly Point just as an airplane flew overhead, landing at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. So low, the roar eclipsed everything and the truck windows shook. His life seemed out of control like that. Careening to whatever end this situation was going to have. Hopefully it would be nothing but a safe landing, not a fiery crash that involved the loss of life.

God, help me get Rachel back safely.

Steve parked beside him a couple of minutes later. Dressed much the same as when they'd walked through Steve's offices the day Rachel had been kidnapped. Bradley met him with a handshake.

Steve opened the trunk of his car and handed him a bullet-proof vest. Bradley looked at it, then at his friend. "Humor me."

"Fine." He put it on. "Thanks, I guess."

"We'll get her back. Without you getting hurt, yeah?" The intensity in Steve's eyes was one Bradley remembered well.

"One question."

"Shoot," Steve said.

"How'd you know a 9-1-1 call went out from Rachel's house?"

Steve's brow furrowed. "We monitor several properties. Relatives. Friends and family we want to make sure are safe."

"Who is she to you?"

Steve glanced aside. "Not nearly what I want her to be." He looked back at Bradley. "But that's her call."

Steve was the potential relationship in Rachel's life?

"When I got out of the hospital and caught up, feds were already crawling over the whole situation." He eyed Bradley. "The former assistant. That the girl you told me about?" _The one in the video._ Not said, but implied.

Bradley nodded.

Steve shook his head, then slapped Bradley on the shoulder. The back of his hand was covered with leathery scars. "Slow playing it. Overthinking everything, just like always."

"Unlike you?"

Steve's gaze sobered. "I'm thinking the tide may've just turned on that."

Bradley didn't have time to ask what on earth that meant. A black van pulled into the parking lot.

"That them?"

Bradley checked the weapon he'd stashed in the back of his belt. "Guess we'll find out."

# Chapter 14

Minutes turned into half an hour while Alexis waited for Bradley to return. She sipped the tea he had brought her, and tried to reason with herself. She'd kept the secret for months now, a decision she and Rachel had made together. If she was going to break that confidence, even if it was only with Bradley and no one else, then she probably needed to talk to Rachel first.

And that meant Rachel had to be here, safe and sound.

Before that happened, she needed to focus and not get distracted by all that was Bradley. It was so tempting to just...fall into him. In love with him. Not that she'd ever _not_ been in love with him, really. None of that had changed. Maybe it had actually grown.

But what did that mean for them? Life had thrown them back together, whether they wanted it or not. Did God plan for them to finally have a relationship?

For so long, she'd figured their night together nothing but sin. Something to be washed away. But even despite the truth of what God had done in her life, maybe He still had a plan for the two of them. Would God do that? She couldn't deny that Bradley had been everything she ever wanted, and still was. But everyone at church that she'd talked to had told her to let that be the past. To move on, because God wanted to do a "new" thing.

Then the video had come out, and they'd told her not to come back.

She was staring at the FBI cubicles when everything suddenly went wired. Four agents stood up from their desks simultaneously. One snapped up a phone, and another started yelling orders to the others. Alexis lifted out of the chair and wandered to the door. Had they found Rachel?

"Off the reservation..."

"Thinks he can do this."

The snippets of conversation didn't make any sense, until she realized Bradley was nowhere that she could see.

An agent stopped right in front of her. The frown on his face was accusatory.

She shook her head. "What?"

"You're telling me you had no idea he was going to do this?"

"Bradley?" When the agent told her what he had done, she realized it made perfect sense. "Of course he did. He wants to save his sister."

"At the expense of his own life?"

"If you're worried about that, go help him."

She wanted to do that very thing, but reality stalled her. She had no training except as an assistant. She would only get in the way of all these "professionals" running around with their guns and their operational plans. The best she could do was pray, the way she had been praying all the way through all of this. Maybe to some people that was redundant, but she figured it had saved her life many times. The only idea she'd had — that of going to the motel — had resulted in their nearly being kidnapped. And in Bradley being beaten up.

**

The two men who exited the van, Bradley had never met before. One wore sunglasses and the other squinted under the afternoon sun. Bradley used a finger to lift up the bill of his ball cap so they'd see his face. His, "I mean business" face.

"Where's my sister?"

Steve was behind him, close enough to touch Bradley's shoulder if he needed to. Despite their banter, his old friend held the same tension in his body as Bradley did.

The lead guy sauntered over. Or was that a limp? These two could be the ones from the motel. Were they affiliated with his uncle? Bradley wanted to know what part Lincoln had played in it. If these guys were just hired guns, out for their payday, that didn't bode well. They'd likely do whatever was necessary to get money—making them even more dangerous than his uncle or cousin. There was a chance he'd have been able to reason with family. These two, likely not.

"Do I have to say it again?"

"I get the money, I'll tell you where she is."

He shook his head. "That isn't the way this works. You bring her here. If she's unharmed, I'll sign the money over to you."

The man stopped, close enough Bradley could see the skin beside both eyes crinkle. Why would he be amused?

"I kept my part of the bargain," Bradley said. "Now it's up to you to do the same."

"Honor, and all that? I don't play that way. I get what I want, and we'll see what's leftover."

Steve moved. Bradley slapped his hand out so it collided with his friend's stomach. "Don't."

"That's right." The man smirked. "You put a leash on your dog before he learns who has the bigger bite."

"Make the call," Bradley said, done with this back and forth. "Get her here."

The guy reached back. Steve closed in.

Instead of a phone, the man pulled out a Glock.

Bradley pulled his out.

Then there were four guns, all aimed. Who would win this four-way stand off? "Easy." He didn't want a bloodbath.

"I said no feds." He fired before Bradley could see what he meant.

The bullet hit his vest.

Steve shoved into Bradley and set him flying. _Bang. Bang._ Pain slammed into his shoulder and he fired back. Two shots hit the man in front of him. The other assailant friend fled the scene while car brakes squealed. Then he heard boots on gravel, and shouted orders.

Bradley sat up to see where Steve was...

"Medic!"

Walker crouched beside Steve. "Ambulance is on its way."

Bradley looked at the wound on his shoulder. Just a graze. He ripped off the hem of his T-shirt and pressed it against the slice the bullet had left.

"That was an incredibly stupid thing to do."

"Brought the kidnappers out. Now we know who they are."

"These were hired guns." Walker glanced toward the entrance to the parking lot, then back at Bradley. "They aren't the ones behind this."

"So you know about my uncle?"

Walker frowned. "He isn't part of it."

"Of course he is. If Lincoln was in on it, then my uncle is the mastermind."

"Maybe that's how you think this is working, but that's not what we've managed to piece together so far."

Bradley shifted, wincing at the pain. "Then what have you got?"

"If you'd stuck around at the FBI office, you'd have heard. We were about to come and brief you when you ran off."

Bradley didn't want to talk about that. He glanced at his friend. Steve didn't look good. The bullet had nicked his hip, and he'd hit his head on the way down. Was he going to be okay?

"You'll be lucky if the man who hired these people doesn't have your sister killed because of this."

"If they do, they'll never get their money."

The ambulance pulled up, and EMTs got to work on Steve. Walker came over to where he was, and Bradley got up.

"I know you're just trying to save her, but there's more at work here that you know nothing about."

"And you're just now thinking you'll explain it to me?"

"We had to make sure Alexis was who she said. That she was completely clean. We couldn't risk it otherwise."

Alexis? "Where is she?"

Steve grunted and tried to sit up. Bradley knelt next to the EMT and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Easy, buddy."

Steve glanced at the paramedics, seemed to realize where he was, and blew out a breath. "Ouch."

"You hit your head on a rock, and got nicked."

"The guys are never gonna let me live this down," he said. "Until I tell them it was because I was saving your sorry butt."

"Tell them whatever. I'm just glad you're okay."

The EMT said, "Let's go. Get you checked out by the professionals."

Steve shook his head. Winced. "I'll get someone to pick me up. We have a doctor."

They did?

The EMT didn't look convinced.

"If I need a hospital, I'll go." Though, the look on Steve's face disagreed with him. Bradley knew how he felt about hospitals. They'd both spent more than enough time getting patched up—Steve more than anyone he knew. The guy was going to avoid that at all costs.

"You have to sign some paperwork," the EMT said. "So call your friend, because I'm sticking around until he gets here to make sure you're okay."

"Maybe _he_ is a _she_ ," Steve said.

The EMT chuckled. "Whatever, man. Just make your call."

A car pulled into the lot. The driver stayed put while the passenger, a big man with sleeves of tattoos, a goatee and not much other hair, wandered over. Bradley thought he might recognize the man from his pseudo-interview, but wasn't sure.

Steve handed over his keys, and the man wandered over to Steve's SUV. Bradley walked with his friend to the passenger door and said, "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Steve held out his hand. "Worry about Rachel, okay?"

Bradley nodded.

"And if you need anything else, let me know. These feebs might talk a good game, but they mess things up and it'll be a tragedy."

One Bradley would never recover from.

"Just keep your eyes and ears open," Steve said. "And tell me if you need anything."

"I will." They shook hands, and Steve climbed in the car.

The ambulance left, and Bradley headed for his truck. He followed Walker back to the FBI office, wondering all the way there what on earth the man knew that he hadn't yet shared. And praying for Rachel. He didn't want to admit to himself that he'd made the wrong choice. He'd done what he thought was right for his sister with the knowledge he had.

Twenty minutes later, he reached the floor where he'd left Alexis.

When she saw him, her gaze darted to his shoulder. She gasped and ran to him.

He braced and she slammed into his chest, wrapped her arms around him. Then she leaned back and slapped his good shoulder.

"That's the second time you've done that."

"You got shot! I can't believe you!"

"I had backup." And he could have gotten Rachel back if those two guys had held up their end of the deal. What was the point in them shooting at him and Steve anyway? It hadn't been a diversion, just attempted murder. But why, when it meant they didn't get the money?

This hardly made any sense.

Walker wandered over and handed Bradley a first aid kit. Alexis snatched it for herself, then spun to the conference room. "Let's go, Harris."

Walker shot him a smirk and said, "I'll be there in a second."

Bradley followed Alexis to the chairs they'd been talking in not three hours ago. It seemed like much longer, and no doubt every minute dragged for Rachel. Not knowing when help was going to come for her. Subjected to who knew what.

"Sit."

Her voice was soft, beckoning him out of his spiraling thoughts and back to the present. "I just want her back."

She nodded. "I know." He sat, and she said, "I'm proud of you for trying. So proud."

"It didn't work, though, did it?" Saying he'd "tried his best" might work in grade school, but in his world it didn't matter how hard you tried. Not when failure got people killed.

She touched his wound with a wet cloth and he sucked in a breath.

Her brow furrowed. "It isn't bad."

"I know."

Walker trailed in, followed by another agent. They sat across the table, serious looks on both of their faces. Bradley didn't even want to ask what this was all about. Not when it was clearly big. And important.

"What is..?" Alexis's voice trailed off and the room was silent.

Bradley stuck a bandage on the gunshot he'd received, and Alexis taped it down. She said, "Do you want an Ibuprofen or something?"

He shook his head and turned to Walker. "Care to share?"

"I object to the insinuation that you wouldn't have gone off half-cocked if I'd have told you what I'm about to say earlier."

Maybe he would have, maybe not. "Guess we'll never know, will we."

Alexis put her hand over his tight fist.

Walker glanced between them, and said, "For the past three years, it has come to the FBI's attention that someone in Washington is blackmailing Senators, Representatives. Congressmen and women. It took a while to nail down the extent of the damage. Not too many of them were interested in having what they considered their private business revealed, even if only to us and not the public."

Alexis had gone solid beside him. Her hand slipped from his and he glanced at her. She was white as a sheet.

"What is it?"

"Rachel..." She didn't say any more.

Bradley didn't need her to.

Walker said, "We believe your sister became a target of this blackmailer."

"And now he's kidnapped her to get our inheritance money?"

"We believe that was his initial intention, yes. Money seems to be his end game." Walker cleared his throat. "But that isn't how it started."

Bradley glanced from the agent to Alexis.

"However, the actions of your sister and Alexis here made it so that the blackmailer's initial plan didn't work. He was forced to find a new tactic."

"Kidnapping."

Walker nodded.

Alexis shifted so her body was farther away from his.

"And he's done this to others?"

"A Senator from Wyoming killed herself. We looked into the case and found a video on her computer, buried in a series of subfolders. It would have destroyed her stance on honesty and family values if her husband, or the voting public, ever found out."

"Lincoln was right," Alexis breathed. "This is my fault."

Walker said, "We believe that when he contacted Rachel, she did something he never expected. Which is why he's resorted to this."

"My sister hasn't incriminated herself." He glanced at Alexis, who looked sick. "It's not like there's a video of her floating around the internet, right?"

Rachel had a wild streak and was entirely capable of getting herself into trouble, but that had been in college. And Alexis was _always_ there to pull her back from the edge. To stop her from self-destructing.

Alexis swallowed. "She—"

Bradley laid his hand on hers the way she'd done for him. His heart sank as he realized what the girls had done. What had been an inkling before was so obvious now. They'd turned the tables on the blackmailer, and figured out a way to control the narrative.

He leaned back in his chair and pinned Alexis with his gaze. "The woman in the video. It wasn't you, was it? It was Rachel."

# Chapter 15

Alexis shut her eyes against that stare of his. She nodded. She heard Bradley's exhale. The shift to finally knowing that it wasn't her in the video—it was his sister.

She opened her eyes. "I'm sorry." And she really was. It didn't make it better for him to know they'd lied. For him, it was probably worse.

He'd been able to push Alexis away. To nurse his hurt, but keep himself removed.

"Why didn't she tell me?" The pain in his voice echoed in his eyes.

Walker was listening to the whole thing, but if what he'd explained was true, then he had a right to know it all as well. If it wasn't just Rachel, but others as well who had been targeted, Alexis didn't know how to help them. She'd done what she could to save her friend from having both her career—so much more important than Alexis's—and her reputation from being destroyed.

"You know why."

"How could I?" He gave a slight shake of his head. Like he couldn't bear to move more than that. "None of this makes sense."

Agent Walker said, "Why don't you start from the beginning? Walk us through what happened."

Alexis took a breath and then swallowed. Not so much to figure out what she was going to say, as to brace herself for Bradley's confusion and hurt. Things were only going to get worse when he heard the whole story from start to finish.

"Rachel went to a benefit." She gave Agent Walker the date and location, a downtown D.C. hotel. "It was for a children's charity. The next morning, just after seven, she called me. She was in a motel across town with no idea how she got there."

"He drugged her." Bradley's tone was dark. Lethal.

"She figured out from the...discomfort...what had happened. I told her we'd go to the police, but she didn't want to report it." Alexis sucked in a breath. "I should have made her go, but she didn't want it on record when she didn't remember anything. It wasn't like she could identify who her attacker had been."

Alexis hadn't been able to sway her. And since it hadn't been her who was hurt, she'd let Rachel make the decision. "Even a couple of days later, when her head was clearer, she still refused to get it down on record. She didn't want to be seen as the victim." Alex shook her head, even though she understood. "I didn't agree with it. Silence isn't strength. I mean, sometimes it's the right thing, but not like this. Hiding it just because she didn't want anyone to know."

Walker nodded, like he knew. When he most definitely did not. He couldn't understand what that kind of vulnerability felt like.

"Then the video showed up in her email, along with a demand for two hundred thousand dollars. We knew it wouldn't stop there. Whoever it was would keep asking for money. He threatened to leak the video online. I contacted a friend of mine at the Pentagon and had her check into the email address, but we didn't get anywhere. We had no idea where it came from."

Bradley laid his hand on hers. She held on to his fingers, content to soak up the strength of his grip.

"So we did the only thing we could think of. We leaked the video ourselves and told everyone it was me."

Bradley exhaled.

"I know it was kind of a _nuclear_ option. But we wanted to take the power back. To control what the public knew ourselves."

His eyes were fierce. "It _destroyed_ you."

"You didn't see how she was after that email came through. It was eating away at her. She wasn't sleeping. She couldn't keep any food down. She couldn't even brush her teeth without gagging." Alexis glanced away. "So I talked to her about what options there were, so she could feel like she was in control again. When she agreed, I ended it. I turned the tables on that blackmailer, and we moved on with our lives."

Walker said, "What made you think people wouldn't realize it wasn't you?"

She glanced at Bradley. Part of her had wondered if he would realize it wasn't her, but if he had, he'd never said anything. "People see what they want to see. You can't tell the hair color is brown, not auburn. Not with it being almost black and white."

"Like a surveillance camera," Walker said. "And the tattoo?"

Bradley said, "Alexis and Rachel got matching tattoos in college."

The corners of her mouth curled up at the memory. "I couldn't believe how much it hurt. Like road rash. Afterward we decreed we'd never do it again." Her smile dropped. "How would we know it would actually come in handy?"

"What about the man in the video?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "We couldn't figure out who it was, not from just a shoulder and his legs. Dark hair. It's mussed in the video. We had no idea who he was."

Walker flipped open a paper folder, pulled out a sheet and placed it on her side of the table. A dossier. The man in the picture was handsome, and someone she immediately recognized.

"Rachel's new assistant."

"His real name is Aaron Jones. To cut a long and very colorful story short, he's essentially for hire and doesn't care what the job is. His specialty is date rape drugs, but he's not all that discerning about what he does."

Alexis swallowed back the bile. Bradley shot to his feet.

"Sit down, Mr. Harris."

He turned back, already at the door. "That scum bag—"

"I don't want to find Jones's body in the woods and have to ruin your life with a murder conviction, so do me a favor and _sit down_ , Bradley. We have agents sitting on Jones, and we have for weeks. He can't even take a whizz and we don't know about it."

"Then bring him in. Question him."

"It's only supposition in this case. We have no physical evidence that ties this man to your sister."

"Then how do you know it was him?"

"Because we've seen this before."

Alexis said, "The Senator from Wyoming."

Walker nodded. Bradley sat again, no less tense than he'd been when he stormed to the door. That fire was always there. It was the best part of him, that need he felt to sacrifice himself to save his sister.

He had to know that. Maybe it would take a while, and she could tell him why she'd really done it. Eventually he would understand. But even if he got it, this would forever color what was between them. She'd lied. Covered up his sister's hurt. That big brother heart, his code of honor, might not ever recover from being set aside. And if he wanted nothing to do with her now, then she would let him go and make her own life. Far from here, where she wouldn't remember him too much. Somewhere she could live in solitude and pretend she would one day get over him.

Walker said, "The death of the Senator from Wyoming was ruled a suicide, but I wasn't convinced. I went back over the evidence, and I'm working on building a case for a murder charge. But if I can get evidence that ties Jones to this as well, then I'll be able to snap the trap shut."

Bradley leaned forward. "My sister has been kidnapped, and you're worried about your agenda?"

"Seems to me like nothing has changed since Agent Walker was accusing _me_ of being behind the kidnapping," Alexis said. "And now Rachel has been a captive for two days, and you have...what? Nothing much by the look of it."

Walker let their words wash over him and didn't react. Alexis almost respected him for not firing back at them. He said, "Our priority here is making Rachel safe. Secondary to that is bringing this guy down. Do you want this happening to someone else?"

Bradley leaned back in his chair. "Of course we don't, but it's not someone else who was kidnapped. It was Rachel. And then they tried to get me—or Alexis. Lincoln tried to take Alexis with her. And after all that, two men shot at me and Steve. So how do we make sense of this mess and find Rachel?"

"Assuming the ransom drop is off, we're waiting to see if you're contacted again."

Alexis said, "You think they'll try to take Bradley now, to get his money too?"

"We aren't taking those chances, but the two of you have to work with us on this. Which means no running off on your own, trying to deal with these guys." Walker glanced at Bradley. "Or killing the only man involved in this so far that might actually know who the blackmailer is."

"And what about Lincoln? No one thought twice before you all shot him."

"That was unavoidable."

Alexis bit her lip. "What about Bradley and Rachel's uncle? If Lincoln was part of this, then his father could be the blackmailer, right?" She was so glad it hadn't been either of them who had drugged and attacked Rachel. That was beyond icky, when this situation was already bad enough. It was horrible enough thinking Rachel had been working with Aaron Jones as her assistant for _months._

Bradley scratched a hand through his close-cropped hair. "I can't believe I'm even contemplating that my uncle could be a predator like this. A blackmailer and a thief. Not to mention hiring someone to do that to my sister?" He blew out a breath.

Alexis wanted to do something to comfort him, but nothing was enough. She had to face the fact she couldn't help.

Walker said, "We're looking into him. Running his financials. If there's something to be learned that we don't need a warrant to obtain, then we'll get it."

"And Rachel?" Alexis didn't know how on earth they were going to get her back when this was now even more complicated. It had seemed so hard to find her before. Now it was probably impossible. "She could be dead already, or he could have done worse to her than he did before."

Rachel could have been sold to someone who bought women. Or so many other scenarios too horrible to imagine. Alexis never wanted that world to touch the people she loved, but neither could she pretend it didn't exist. There was so much evil in this world. It would be easy to try and cocoon herself away from it out of self-preservation. But how would that help the victims? Those who were innocent, who couldn't fight for freedom but needed someone to fight for them.

Walker said, "I know. We're monitoring the dark web for any chatter that might indicate a transaction involving the Senator."

"But he wants the money, right?" Bradley said. "So he has to contact me again. Because with Rachel out of commission, he either has a shot at getting her to give up hers, or he has to get to me so he can get all two million."

"That's why we would like you to stay here where we know you're safe." The edge in the agent's tone was clear.

"Or I go out there, you guys watch my back and when he grabs me, you follow."

"We aren't going to use you as bait. We don't do that, even with Navy SEALs."

He didn't like it, but Alexis was glad. She didn't want him to get hurt, even if he didn't think he would because of his extensive training.

Walker continued. "We're going through Jones's life, as well as your uncle's. Between the two of them, we'll find a connection to whoever is masterminding these blackmailing operations."

"What about the original ransom drop...exchange." She didn't know what to call it. "What do we do about that? Or are we assuming he'll contact Bradley with further instructions?"

"I tossed my phone."

Walker said, "We know. But if he wants to find you, he'll figure out a way."

Alexis got up. She just couldn't sit any longer when nervous energy was building and building. "I want you to tell me he isn't hurting her. I want you to promise me that you're going to find her. Preferably right now. That she'll be okay." But he couldn't, could he?

Walker might've tried looking like he at least felt guilty. She'd take even false empathy about the fact he couldn't promise that this would turn out fine. Or even well. He wasn't able to control the outcome when all this time they'd been on the defense. Chasing behind what had already happened.

Alexis tapped her finger on her leg. They needed to turn things around. But how? Bradley had tried, and both he and his friend had been injured. It wasn't like she could go out and make any difference for Rachel.

"I hate feeling useless."

"It won't be long," Walker said. "That is something I can promise you."

Bradley watched her, while across the table Walker gathered his papers. What did he think? She'd given up her career for her friend, but that decision hadn't been a hardship. What came later had hurt, and she'd been working through it. God had been closer to her in the last few months than any other time since she first learned of Him.

"What are you thinking?"

Walker trailed out. She shrugged at Bradley's question, but said, "That this time, since I lost my job and pretty much all my friends...it's been some of the sweetest time with God that I've ever had." He smiled, so she continued, "I've had to depend on Him for everything, more than just all my peace and comfort."

"You could have called me. Told me," he said quietly. "But I know why you didn't. And I'm glad for you, Lex. You needed God, and He showed up."

She nodded. "He really did. I had no one else."

He motioned to the chair. "Sit. Please."

Why was he being so gentle? Alexis settled in the chair. "What is it?"

"I know now. Which means there's no reason you should be alone anymore." He took her hand. "I'm not going to let you do this by yourself. This is going to be a new season. For both of us."

"We should focus on Rachel now. That's what's important." She didn't want to talk about them. Not when it was inevitable that she'd let him down when she told him she was leaving town. Moving away to go live her life. He wasn't going to like keeping tabs on her from afar, but there was no way she could stay local when he'd only be looking after her out of obligation for what she'd done for Rachel. That was all that was between them, even with that kiss. Just a shared experience of stress, and not knowing what would happen. Their default—to cling to each other—was just reflex.

Nothing more.

# Chapter 16

She was pushing him away again. Standing her ground, yes, but living behind that shield she'd erected to keep herself safe. The one he wasn't able to break through. Bradley respected her need to guard her heart, even as it completely infuriated him that she felt the need to do it. He was the last person she should be protecting herself from. Didn't she know that?

There was one other explanation he could think of—that Alexis actually thought _he_ was the greatest threat she faced.

That had to mean her feelings were strong enough she'd felt like she needed to keep him from breaking her heart. As if he would. Bradley didn't know the future, but he did know he would never intentionally hurt her. Now really wasn't the time to try and convince her, though. He didn't know how long that would take. He didn't want to have half a conversation that would leave her unconvinced, and with possibly even more questions than she had now.

Retreating back behind that shield.

A tear fell down her cheek. Bradley's resolve broke and he gathered her in his arms. "What is it, love?"

He felt the hitch in her breath at his endearment. New territory for them, but he wanted to get them going those places. Forward. On to better things, whether that made them both vulnerable or not.

"I—" Her voice broke. "—I vetted him."

"Aaron Jones?"

She nodded against his chest. Bradley loosened his hold on her so he could look down at her face. "This isn't your fault, Lex. You couldn't have known what he was involved in."

"I left her with him. Alone, after what he did to her." She shuddered in his arms. "He could have done it again. Over and over."

Bradley wiped tears from both her cheeks with his thumbs. "He didn't. She'd have told you. If he'd drugged her again, she'd have known something was wrong."

He could hardly talk about this, considering it was his sister. How did anyone stand by and allow abuse like this to happen? He wanted to rage against the whole world, and the fact there were people in it who thought their own needs came before someone else's consent. Bradley wanted to line up everyone who'd ever hurt someone defenseless and show them what it was like to be vulnerable. To suffer because of another person's selfishness.

But that would only make him just as vindictive as them. Being the same as they were wasn't the goal, and it wasn't going to make the world better. He'd felt that urge to get vengeance time and again, facing enemies in battle who had no constraints on their actions. War was never a fair fight. He had to stay set apart from that "victory at any cost" mentality. The alternative would only mean he'd descended into the darkness they operated in.

Bradley wanted to live his life in the light.

Life stateside, with Alexis in his arms, was looking more and more appealing every second. When they got his sister back, he wanted to spend more time with her.

"This is all so wrong."

"But it isn't your fault, Lex. You couldn't have known this was bigger than one night, and more than just my sister. We just have to pray she's okay. That they find her before too much damage is done."

"Oh, God."

He hugged her again, sick to his stomach and completely agreeing with her. Powerless was not his thing. God needed to call him to arms. There had to be a way he could do something. But he'd tried, and it hadn't worked. Both he and Steve had been injured.

"We have to bring this sicko down so no one else gets hurt by him."

He needed to call Steve and make sure his friend was okay. If helping Bradley had cost the man time doing his job, that meant money had been lost. Steve would say it was okay, and he didn't care about the money. Bradley should open an account so he could be the man's client. Help him recoup his losses. Or, if he was making a move to be stateside permanently now, maybe he should just go ahead and outright ask the man if he got the job.

"Bradley. Alexis."

They turned to Walker, who didn't have a happy, "we found her" face.

Bradley put his arm around Alexis. "What is it?"

"Preliminary forensics are back on the lawyer." Walker swallowed.

There was something in his gaze that Bradley knew wasn't going to be good. He turned Alexis to face him and said, "Can you go grab two coffees, or a tea and a coffee for me, or something?" Great, he was babbling.

She shot him a look. "You want me to get scarce so the men can talk?" She had on that _Seriously_ face he thought was incredibly cute—and completely justified.

Bradley said, "Please." And he meant it. Because this was something he wanted to do for her. Yes, she was determined to stay strong through all of this. But he wanted to protect her from the full extent of it. She didn't have to endure quite so much today. She was strong, and she didn't need to prove it to him.

She lifted her chin. "I can handle this."

"I don't want you to have to."

"So you're going to take the blow for me?"

"If you'll let me, yes." He wasn't going to pretend what this was. She was a smart woman who had called him on the attempt to keep her out of it. "Will you, please?"

"For my own sanity, fine." She gave him a small smile of knowing he'd always liked. "I'll go refill our cups."

After she'd trailed out, Walker sighed. "That was a good idea. It's pretty gruesome."

Bradley said, "She'd handle it. There's no doubt she'd make herself deal. I just don't want her to have to."

"I get it."

"So, what happened?"

Walker sat on the edge of the table. "Before he was killed, your lawyer was tortured. It wasn't drawn out, but it was extremely painful."

"What did he give them?"

"You're assuming he succumbed?"

"Big city lawyer, but finances. Not criminal. Daddy was a lawyer. He didn't work out, he played golf on Sundays." Bradley shrugged. "He'd have let me intimidate him if I was that way inclined. So yeah, I think he gave them what they wanted."

"Likely he held out long enough for the torture to get seriously painful, so there's that." Walker looked at his file of papers. "We'll know more as the investigation continues. For now, we had a computer forensics specialist go through his devices. There was a file downloaded around the estimated time of death. It fits the window, if that's what he pointed them to."

"What was the file?"

"A document that allows the signatory to transfer funds to a third party."

"A bank form?"

Walker nodded. "Looks like they're going to try and have your sister sign over her money. Maybe you as well, probably through coercion."

Bradley strode to the conference room door and looked for Alexis. She was down the hall, chatting with a female agent. His stomach unclenched just a little. Alexis was safe and not about to be used as leverage to force Rachel to give up her million dollars. It was Rachel he should worry about. And yet between the two women, his entire body was a mass of knots he needed to work out with a couple of hours at a punching bag.

"I put agents on the bank since the transfer will need to be done on site," Walker said. "If your sister shows up with anyone, we'll see."

Bradley nodded. He ran both hands down his face. Prayed. Took some deep breaths.

"We're also moving to locate Aaron Jones. A witness, a neighbor of your lawyer, places a slender man who fits his build leaving the scene around the time of his death. So we're bringing him in to question him in connection with the murder."

"Won't that let him know we're aware he's involved?"

Walker nodded. "I'm done treading lightly. We know this guy means business, and if Jones knows who he is then I want all the information he has. That's how we're going to shut him down and find Rachel."

Hopefully the order went a little differently than that, but Bradley would pray about that as well.

"Keep me posted." Bradley wanted to listen in on that conversation.

"Actually, I'd like to have you and Alexis go back to the safe house. It isn't that you're in the way here, but I want you contained so we can cut down on the variables of what's going to play out for the remainder of this investigation."

Which was basically getting them out of the way. Keeping them contained. Bradley wasn't mad, but he didn't have to like the idea either. He said, "Fine," mostly because Alexis would be with him. What was there to be mad about that? "But you find my sister."

Walker said, "I'll set up the transport."

"Can I make a phone call?" He motioned to the phone on the table.

Walker explained how to dial outside the office, then left. Bradley had just finished dialing when Alexis trailed back in with the drinks—and a wry smile on her face.

"Double Down Investigations, how may I direct your call?" The woman had a thick southern accent which, added to the fact she spoke extremely quickly, made all the words run together.

"Steve Preston, please. It's Bradley Harris."

"I'll see if he's done patching himself up after his escapade this morning. Not the first time he's been shot, and not the last. I don't know why I even bother—" The line muted for a good minute and hold music played.

Finally, Steve answered, "Bradley?"

"Yep. How are you?"

"I'd be better if my secretary didn't insist on giving me the third degree every time I get injured." He sighed. "I had my computer guy get into the building computer system where you're at. He got me everything those people have on all this. I'm not liking it, not in the slightest."

"Me either." Nor did Bradley like the fact Steve felt it necessary to hack the FBI.

"I'm looking into it. I'll let you—or them—know what I dig up."

Bradley gave him Alexis's number so Steve could get ahold of him.

"Thanks."

"I should be saying that to you," Bradley said. "I appreciate this, Steve. And I appreciate your help this morning."

"I don't like being shot at. And I don't like a friend of mine being in danger. So let's work on getting her back."

"Thanks." Bradley hung up, not knowing that Steve and Rachel had been friends exactly. "Sometime soon, someone will need to explain to me what happened between Rachel and Steve Preston."

Her eyes widened. "That's who you called this morning?" When he nodded, she said, "Of course. That's perfect. He's exactly the kind of help we need. And, well..."

This was the part he wanted to know. "What is it?"

"She thought he might...have a crush on her. But then he went out of town, and it was weeks." Alexis shrugged. "He seemed nice. Really nice, actually. And I thought he might've really liked her." She paused. "He didn't get back from his operation until after..."

Bradley nodded, knowing what she was referring to.

"By then it was too late. She didn't want anything to do with anyone she didn't know well enough that she could ensure one hundred percent trust."

And yet, for Alexis, that had been Lincoln. She'd made a mistake trusting his cousin and now she was going to be gun-shy until she realized Bradley wasn't anywhere near that man's category.

He told her about Walker wanting them both at the safe house.

"We have to go?"

"Together, yeah." That was the part he liked best. "They're bringing Jones in."

She looked almost scared.

"Soon as they get us a ride, we're going to leave."

"I wish I could get some clothes. Take a shower." She rubbed her hand in her hair. "It's been a long day, and I feel awful being selfish about how I look. Or I how I feel."

"Rachel would understand. You've done so much for her, how would she begrudge you a shower?"

She shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "It wasn't that much. Rachel is a senator. She didn't want that all over the internet, and we weren't going to give him the money. That didn't leave us with many options."

"I would have helped you."

She bit her lip. "You'd have found him and killed him. Or never found him, and killed yourself with guilt because of it."

She knew him. He had to give her that. "One of these days I'm going to make it so you don't ever have to give that much. So you don't have to sacrifice that much for anything ever again."

"I _wanted_ to do it."

"I know. That's what kills me. Because I know you'd do it a thousand times over, and I don't want you to ever have to do that." He touched both her shoulders.

"Harris." One of the agents he'd spoken with earlier said, "Let's go."

They followed him to the parking lot and climbed in the back of an SUV. Bradley didn't know what to say, so he held her hand as they pulled onto the street and headed to the safe house. Whether it was going to be the one he'd been at earlier, or a different one, he didn't know. Wherever it was, they would be together.

God, help Rachel. Keep her safe. Give her strength.

He could hardly stomach even thinking about what was happening to her. But what she was going through was far worse than his fear of the unknown. God knew. He was with her. Was Rachel trusting in Him? He knew she hadn't made the same commitment he had. Bradley tried to tell her what he'd discovered—that Alexis had been right all along.

The light turned green and the agent pulled away from the line.

A semi came out of nowhere and barreled toward them. It slammed into the driver's door and the back, on the side where Alexis sat. Before Bradley could react, the SUV spun through the intersection. Alexis screamed. The front windshield sprayed with blood from the driver. The agent in the front passenger seat whipped side to side like a rag doll. The way he and Alexis were doing.

His head slammed on the door frame and everything went black.

# Chapter 17

Blood was everywhere. Her heartbeat thudded in her...face. Alexis touched her top lip and nearly screamed. Even that close to her nose, which was apparently broken, was too close. She sucked in a breath through her mouth. It was like suffocating, but she was still able to get air even as her sinuses and throat filled with blood.

She shoved at the airbag which had come out of the seat in front of her, the one she'd just slammed into, then looked around. Rotating her head made her bite back a scream. She twisted her whole body and saw Bradley, slumped against the door. Blood dripped from his face onto the shoulder of his shirt. Unconscious.

The agents in front were moaning. Alexis tried to think what to do. They'd been hit by a truck. Literally.

Her phone. She needed to call for help.

It was in her purse, by her feet. Alexis got her arms to respond and braced one hand against the airbag to feel around on the floor. _God, help me get someone here._ She wanted to believe a bystander had seen the accident and called the police. That they would show up any minute to help.

Her door swung open. What on earth? She glanced around, trying to figure out what was happening. Her brain was moving so slowly. A man grabbed her arm. She felt her butt slide across the seat, and he dragged her from the car.

"Take care of that."

Cold night air bit into her thin sweater. Who was he talking to? Her head swam and she tried to look around, see what he was talking about, but her eyes couldn't focus on anything.

_Bang. Bang._ Alexis's whole body jerked. The sound was like standing beside a firework right as it went off. "Wha..." He dragged her away.

She looked up and saw a mask.

Bang. Bang.

"Get the other guy, and let's go."

Bradley. Where was he? Was he awake yet? Maybe they'd killed him.

Had they killed the agents? Why couldn't she hear sirens? Surely the FBI knew they'd been hit. Now they were being kidnapped, just like Rachel.

"Brad..." She couldn't say more.

The man stopped, but momentum sent her careening into him. He let go and she slumped to the ground beside a van. The pavement gravel bit into her hands, and her head throbbed all the more.

She turned to the SUV. It looked like a great beast had stepped on it. The FBI agents were dead. Bradley...

A masked man hauled him over, his feet dragging on the ground. Was he dead, too? No. They wouldn't bring him if he was. They needed him alive.

Which meant they could kill her.

She scrambled away on all fours, got two feet maybe, and the man who'd dropped her slammed his boot into her stomach. Alexis crumpled to the ground. Her head slammed into the concrete, and she choked again on a mouthful of blood.

"Nice try."

He pulled her arm up, yanking her shoulder almost out of place. Alexis got her feet under her enough so she wasn't dragged like Bradley. She stumbled, and he tossed her in the direction of the inside of a black-paneled van. She landed face-first on Bradley, depositing some of her blood on his shirt. She liked that shirt.

Her arms were hauled up behind her, and plastic ties secured her hands behind her back. Stars pricked through her vision. The van door slid shut, and everything went dark. Except those blinking lights. She tried to breathe. Tried not to barf on her own blood.

Bradley moaned.

She shifted, tried to roll off him. "Brad..."

Where were they taking them? She'd wanted to go to Rachel, but not like this.

The van turned a corner, going way too fast. Alexis's body slid across the van and into something hard. With sharp edges. Bradley slammed into her and pushed her against it more. Breath expelled from her lungs in a whoosh.

"Bradley." He needed to wake up. Get off her, and out of the way.

The van turned another corner, going the other way. Her shoulders burned, pulled so tight behind her, but she scrambled with the momentum of the turn. She managed to get them farther across the van floor. If they turned again, she didn't want to be shoved against whatever that was.

Within minutes, they slowed. She heard a garage door roll up. Then a few more minutes, and they stopped altogether.

They hadn't gone far. Where, though? She didn't have to wait long to find out. The van door slid open to the inside of an empty garage. Not full of the organized—or completely disorganized—things that belonged to the garage of a house where people actually lived.

One of the masked men took a look at her, then waved a gun from her to the garage.

Alexis scooted to the edge and stood. She didn't have to pretend she didn't feel good, but she also wasn't going to go for belligerence. She would only end up with more bruises than she already had.

The man took a look at her nose and winced, like she was the grossest thing he'd ever seen.

She looked away, but lifted her chin. As if she even cared what he thought. Bradley was unconscious. "Where's Rachel?" It sounded like her nose was plugged. She wanted to demand they take her to her friend, but didn't think ordering them around was going to do much good. Especially not in this condition.

She was ready to see Rachel. Alexis could count on both hands and one foot the number of days they hadn't spoken to each other on the phone, if not in person, in the last...decade probably. Even with what had happened after the video. These men likely didn't understand that level of friendship—the kind that created a family she'd chosen for herself.

Or, maybe they did know.

And if they did, then she was likely here to have her life threatened to make Rachel, and probably Bradley as well, do what they said.

"Move." He shoved her forward, and she almost stumbled.

The floors were bare, the walls nothing but drywall with that mud stuff that builders used to cover the joins before they did that texture thing and then painted. So this house was still being built. Didn't that mean someone would be coming over to work on it? She glanced around, but saw only the one kidnapper behind her.

Where was the other one?

Were they both construction workers and this was one of their jobs? She didn't know if it was possible to hide kidnapping victims like that. But evidently it was possible, because they'd had Rachel here and no one had found her yet. Or they'd killed the person for being nosy and like...buried them under the patio. That was a construction thing to do, right? At least it seemed that way in mystery stories.

He prodded her in the back with the gun. "Right here."

She stopped by a closed door.

The gunman unlocked a padlock and slipped it free. "Inside."

Alexis looked over his shoulder, but the other man wasn't there. Nor was Bradley. Was he okay? Would they bring him here as well?

" _Now_."

She turned the handle to find a room that looked like the rest of the house. Bare floor, bare walls. "Rachel."

He shoved her in, then slammed the door shut. She heard the padlock snap shut and moved across the room away from it. Rachel was curled on the floor in the corner, hands and feet both secured in the same ties she had on her wrists.

"Rachel." Alexis crouched, but couldn't touch her friend. Not with her hands behind her back like this. She tugged at the bonds. That only made them dig more into her skin. She lost her balance and her bottom slammed onto the floor. "Rach."

Alexis wanted to cry. Her friend was filthy, battered. Had she eaten? There were a couple of empty water bottles. The wrapper for a protein bar she'd liked before today, but would probably never be able to enjoy again, lay within arm's reach. Was there a toilet here?

Rachel flinched. Her eyes flickered open. She stared up at Alexis and dread washed over her face. "No." She took a breath. "No, no, no."

"Rachel." The word came out louder than she wanted, and her friend flinched. "It's okay. Bradley is here too. We're gonna get out of here."

How, she had no idea, but Rachel needed to believe it. She needed to have renewed hope and not descend into the lonely despair she'd probably been living in so far.

"They told me they were bringing you here." Rachel shook her head, shut her eyes. "I didn't want you to come."

"When there's nowhere else I'd rather be?" She looked around. "It's nicer than our first apartment." She tried to add levity. Probably wouldn't work, but now that she knew Rachel was alive, hope _had_ swelled. For her. Yeah, they were tied up. And, what were those men doing to Bradley right now?

She had to believe God had done this. He hadn't left them all alone, He had brought them together.

Rachel exhaled, which might have been laughter, but that was probably only wishful thinking on Alexis's part. She pushed her bound hands against the floor and sat up. "You're here."

Alexis leaned in and set her cheek on Rachel's shoulder. Her friend laid her head on top of Alexis's for a second. It was as much of a hug as they could manage, but it worked. "Are you okay? I've been having nightmares of what they were doing to you."

Rachel's face was non-committal. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

Alexis told her that the FBI had linked this to the video, and that it was a larger investigation. "But that doesn't help us get out of here."

"They want the money, but I can't figure out how that's going to satisfy them."

Alexis shrugged. "Whoever they are, it can't be about just getting what they thought you owed them because we played off the video as me."

Rachel nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. I mean, kidnapping I get, but how did we go from blackmail to this? When they get what they want, won't I still be under their thumb? If we're all here now, they'll want to get the money. After that..."

"They'll kill us." Alexis didn't like this at all. "And whether they make it look like an accident or not won't matter, because we'll be dead."

"Or they'll kill me and Bradley, and you'll end up having to take the fall for it somehow."

Alexis said, "So, death or prison? That isn't much of a choice."

"It sucks as a five-year plan."

She wanted to smile, but couldn't. It was good that Rachel was finding reasons to be amused. Hope had flickered, and it hadn't gone out. She knew what miracles God could do. Would he rescue them even from this? Whether He did or not, she would still praise Him for what He'd done in her life. Fact was fact, and she'd been freed from her sin. If that freedom was in order that Alexis could start a ministry behind bars, incarcerated for something she hadn't done, so be it.

The FBI knew she wasn't involved, but even they weren't all powerful. Evil won every day. That was the world they lived in.

"We need to get out of here," Alexis said. "Find Bradley before they hurt him even more than he's already hurt."

"Says the woman bleeding all down her face." Rachel handed her a dusty fast food napkin.

Alexis wiped her nose.

"That needs looking at, or it'll be crooked forever." Rachel frowned. "Bradley could probably reset it."

Alexis ran her finger down her nose. Yep, it's bad. She winced. "Guess I won't win any beauty prizes."

"Yeah, cause it's all about your face." The corner of Rachel's mouth curled up. "Idiot."

Alexis chuckled. "If I'm so dumb, why did you copy from me on every economics test?"

"Just don't tell my constituents I did that, okay?"

"Pretty sure that's not the worst thing a politician's ever done. Besides, I'm saving it all for my memoirs. Seems like at this point I might have a bestseller on my hands."

Rachel leaned in. "Only because suspense sells. Then they'll read it and realize you're the best friend a woman could ever have. After that I'll never be able to get ahold of you, you'll be so popular."

"I'm getting dogs. Rottweilers. They can patrol my compound in the mountains so no one comes near me. I want to drink my tea and read my Bible in peace."

"That's fine," Rachel said. "Bradley can get around dogs. He'll probably do some ninja mind trick and make them harmless to only him so he can _invade your compound_ whenever he wants."

"That actually sounds kind of gross." Alexis laughed.

"Don't worry. I'll make him put a ring on it."

"Did you seriously just quote Beyoncé to me?"

"She had a point."

"Yeah," Alexis said. "She really did."

Especially considering they'd already been there. Done that. Now that she knew what God had done, Alexis did want the whole 'marriage thing' if she was going to have a relationship again. Sure, she'd dated some. Nothing had stuck though. At the end of the day, Bradley was the one who'd always been there for her.

"I hope he's okay."

"Why don't you pray?" Rachel said. "That's what you do, right?"

Alexis frowned. She didn't want to get into that whole speech and everything Rachel was missing out on. Instead, she closed her eyes and prayed a simple prayer out loud that they would get out of there. That Bradley would be okay. That the FBI would find them.

The lock clanked against the door and it flung open.

Both of them turned to face it.

A gunman strode in. There were grazes on his knuckles and a gun in his hand. "Time to go for a drive."

Alexis moved in front of Rachel, blocking her with her body. It might not stop a bullet, but she wasn't going to let Rachel get shot.

"I'd love to get out of here." Rachel's voice rang with defiance. Because Alexis was there now? She wanted to be pleased at that, but couldn't help thinking this might not bode good things.

The gunman shook his head. "Not you."

Alexis looked at her friend, then at the gunman. "Me?" What was he going to do with her? She'd assumed she was nothing but leverage to get the brother and sister to do what the gunmen wanted.

"You fooled everyone into thinking you were her once. Now you can do it again," he said. "You're going to get dressed, and then we're going to the bank. Get ready to give the performance of your life. Because you're going to get me that money."

"And if I don't?"

"Then all of you are dead."

# Chapter 18

Bradley's head thumped, his forehead pressed against the floor. He could hear the man who'd left down the hall now. Talking. With Alexis and Rachel? No gunshots—so far—meant they were still alive. He hoped.

His whole body hurt. The two men had kicked him in the stomach, the back, the ribs, the legs. Like it would take that much persuasion to get him to sign the paper saying Rachel could have his money. He'd played along, though, pretending he was being coerced. Like that money meant anything to him.

The girls' safety aside, the pop in his knee was what worried him. They hadn't known about his injury. And right now, Bradley couldn't say if he would be able to walk on it. That was going to be a problem. Just not one that would stop him from doing something.

The gunman still with him had a phone in his jeans pocket. The guy glanced back toward the door and the hall where the conversation was taking place. Bad move, allowing himself to be distracted. Loss of focus in a situation like this got you hurt. Or killed. Bradley kicked with his good leg and swiped the back of the man's knees. His legs buckled and he fell.

Bradley scrambled forward, praying the second man didn't come in, gun firing, having heard the sound of his friend go down. He didn't want to get shot for trying this. With the man momentarily fighting off surprise, Bradley punched him in the head and then grabbed the gun. The silencer muffled the shot to a pop. One the second gunman likely heard. Still, that couldn't be helped.

"Let's go." The gunman in the hall yelled.

"No. She isn't going with you!" Rachel's voice washed over him. But there was no time to absorb the relief. Not when he could have only seconds before the guy came back to check on his friend. He might simply leave and never even step in here, but Bradley couldn't take that chance. He had to do this.

The phone was locked, but he used the dead man's index finger to get into it. 9-1-1 was probably the fastest option to get someone here. He didn't dial emergency services though. He didn't need first responders walking into an unknown situation. Too much risk for one of them, or one of Bradley's family, to be hurt or killed. He didn't have time to explain what was happening here enough to get the right kind of help—SWAT. The gunman would simply open fire on them all, and kill the responding officers.

Not to mention the worst case scenario rippling around in Bradley's head. If this had been going on for years, it meant whoever was behind it could have someone in law enforcement. His call could get squashed, and then no one would come. The reality was, he didn't know who he could trust. So Bradley called the one person qualified to help that he had no doubt he could rely on.

He dialed the number for Steve's office, and then set the phone down on the floor. Whatever the receptionist heard—even if it were nothing on the other end—he prayed she'd know it wasn't just a mistaken call. That she would pass it on, and Steve would follow up. That he would call Walker. _Please, Lord._

"It's fine!" Alexis used that _everyone calm down_ voice of hers. But she was scared, too. He hated that she was scared. "I'm coming with you. Okay?"

Bradley scooted to the hall, and peered out. The gunman stepped back into view, pulling Alexis with him. Where was he taking her? Bradley could get a real call out if this guy left, but what was the use in getting help here for him and Rachel if Alexis was gone? And he couldn't be sure the man wouldn't get the word they were free somehow, and then kill her.

When the man turned his direction, Bradley ducked back in the room and held the gun ready. If the guy came in here, he'd have to shoot him. It was a risk to Alexis's life, but he'd be found out. The second man was dead.

And yet, the alternative was that Alexis be taken. Who knew where, with that man.

They passed the doorway and the gunman called out, "I'll be back."

Bradley shifted his good leg and then cried out. Pushed all the pain he felt into his voice and made it sound like the dead man was torturing him. It sounded horrible even to his own ears, and he heard Alexis try to come and help him.

The gunman chuckled. "Be glad I'm nicer than him."

"You aren't."

"Then I'm just more task oriented. Which means when you're done helping me, you'll be dead quicker. Happy now?"

Bradley scooted to look out the door again. Down the hall, Alexis was being pulled along by that man. She was out of her league, and it was going to get her killed. He lifted the gun and aimed. Put pressure on the trigger.

The gunman shifted Alexis closer to him and whispered something that made her whole body tense, the gun pressed to her ribs.

Bradley exhaled and let the trigger go. He couldn't shoot the man. Not when it meant the man might fire his own weapon on a reflex. Alexis would be killed, and he would never forgive himself if she was murdered because of something he did.

Right now what he needed to do was get the phone, get a real call out, and get to Rachel. She probably needed medical attention. He knew he did. His right knee was the size of a volleyball. Probably broken, and definitely not good for him to walk on.

He slid across the floor and saw a message on the phone's screen.

Team en route.

Whether the kidnappers would've seen that or not, didn't matter. Bradley had heard stories of Steve's team and what they could do. Anyone on the receiving end of their arrival should be scared. He was just relieved though. He texted back.

All clear. Bring ambulance. Alexis gone.

The rest he could explain when Steve got there, if the man didn't already have someone tasked to find Alexis after that.

"Rachel!" He crawled with his forearms, legs dragging behind him, out the door and down the hall. "Rachel, you there?"

"Bradley!"

They might not be okay, but that was the sweetest sound of freedom he'd ever heard. "I'm here! I'm coming in."

She looked up when he pulled himself in the room. "What..."

"Busted my knee." Her skirt was covered in dirt and dust, and her blouse was untucked. A bruise on her temple looked nasty, but was at least a day old. "You okay?"

"Alexis."

"I know." He knew _everything_.

And Rachel knew it. Tears filled her eyes, and she held up her hands. "Can you get me out of here?"

"I can get you free." He pulled the penknife out of his boot the kidnappers hadn't even checked for, and cut her wrists loose. Her feet. He helped rub some feeling back into her extremities. "If we're going to get out of here you might have to carry me, though." He smiled.

"She won't be doing that." Steve's voice rang through the room.

Rachel sucked in a breath. She was scared? Maybe not of Steve, given they had some kind of history. Or at least an attraction. But after the last few days—and months—she had a right to be wary of someone she didn't know that well.

Bradley shifted and got in her face, so she had to focus on him. "Look at me, Rach." When her gaze lifted to him, he said, "Let's get out of here. Together. Okay?"

She nodded. He put weight on his good leg, and they stood up. She slid her hand into his. "We have to help Alexis. He took her, and we have to get her back."

Speaking of, Bradley waved the phone at Steve, who didn't come and get it. "Maybe we can get the partner's phone number from this. Get a location."

Steve lifted one eyebrow. An arrogance Bradley figured could very well be justified if all those stories he'd heard were actually true. "Ambulance is outside." He looked like he wanted to offer to help. He'd probably pick up Rachel like a true hero. But Bradley could guess she might not want that. Though, they could both use some help.

In the end they hobbled out on their own, albeit slowly. One of the EMTs was female, and Rachel let her help her walk to the bus while he stood with Steve.

"You should go too, get that knee looked at."

The guy was probably right.

"And you can talk to her, see what she knows. We need all the intel we can get."

"Now you sound like the FBI." Bradley didn't smile.

"Speaking of..."

Two SUVs pulled up. A familiar sight at this point. Walker strode over. "Looks like I'm late to the party again."

"Rachel is good."

"And you?"

Bradley was standing on one leg. What did the man think? "One dead kidnapper inside. The other one took Alexis."

Rachel called out, "They're going to the bank. He wants her to pretend to be me so she can get the money for him."

Steve's reaction was palpable. "Pretend?"

Walker said, "Like she did with the video." When Steve said nothing, he added, "The video of Rachel, that they told everyone was Alexis."

"Walker." Bradley needed him to shut up, given the stricken look on Rachel's face. "Enough." He took a half step closer and looked between the two men. "Get Alexis back."

He left them to hash it out. Steve could figure out all this stuff with Rachel himself. When he did, he was likely going to be extremely pissed about what had happened. And determined to get in on the FBI investigation to shut down the entire blackmailing operation.

Bradley limped to the ambulance. He figured the kidnappers were hired guns, like the FBI had told him. But he had no way to do what needed to be done. Right now what he had to do was take care of his sister while they found Alexis. They were the ones with the skills and resources to do it. When they did, he would be right there.

First Alexis. Now Rachel. Soon, he'd be able to be with Alexis again. Then their lives could be where they were supposed to be.

He pulled himself into the ambulance.

"I'm fine." Rachel waved away the stethoscope. "Just tired, dirty and hungry. It's hardly serious. You should look at his knee."

Bradley had his knife out again. He cut the hem of his jeans, and then tore the material all the way up to his thigh. She might think her injuries were minimal, but he didn't discount the psychological impact of it. Not to mention that when they got to the hospital, he was going to have the doctor discretely ask her if she needed a rape kit done.

"Ye-ouch."

He didn't look up from the mess that was his knee. Not after he'd been thinking about her being hurt like that.

"You're not kidding." It was throbbing still. Was he going to need surgery to fix this? If he did, that meant weeks of recovery time. He'd already been thinking about life after the SEALs. Was this what God had planned to keep him here, available to the women? They'd been through so much—Alexis still—it wouldn't hurt them to have someone here to watch their backs now.

"Bradley."

She sounded so sad. He braced his good foot on the floor and lifted up to sit on the gurney beside her. Bradley gathered his sister in his arms.

She started to cry. "He took Alexis. He's probably hurting her."

He couldn't help it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the fatigue. The pain, messing with his head. His body begun to shake with laughter, instead of the tears that should have fallen. "Two peas in a pod." He kept laughing.

The EMT looked at him like he was crazy.

"What?" Rachel leaned back and looked up at him.

"You and Alexis. Only worried about what the other one is suffering."

"Well, that's our biggest problem right now!"

"Two peas in a pod." Mad at him because he'd said something dumb. Angry because for some reason they thought weakness wasn't acceptable. Caring. So caring. They loved fiercely, and thrived because of it. He'd thrived because of it.

Steve wandered over, his gaze only on Rachel. "Hey."

"Hey." Her voice was soft.

"You okay?"

"I won't be okay until Alexis is safe."

Steve said, "Walker has men on the bank. The minute they show up, he'll swoop in and snatch them up. Alexis will be okay."

"But it won't be over."

Bradley said, "Because those men are just hired guns?"

Rachel sniffed. "Their boss isn't going to leave this alone. He's going to keep coming for us." Her voice shook. "For _me_ until I give him what he wants."

"And what is that?" Steve's question was cold.

"I should never have let everyone believe it was Alexis. Now he's furious and on a rampage," Rachel shot back. "The loss of money is only part of it." She turned to Bradley. "We can't let him take it out on Alexis. She's already given him too much."

"Because you guys lied to everyone."

"I didn't want her to take the blame, but she said it was for the best. I knew what it would do to her."

Bradley's frustration bubbled over. "Then why did you let her do it?"

"Dude." Steve's single spoken word was a reprimand.

Rachel's face crumpled, but she didn't look at Steve. "I just wanted it to be over, but it isn't."

He pulled her into his arms, fighting the frustration of not being able to fix this for her. "I know. We can put it right."

"And it'll always be part of me. My history. My future," she said. "All of it. Stained with what he did to me. Even if you get her back and catch him. Whoever he is. It's not going to make it go away."

"I know." Bradley laid his hand on hers. "We'll get you some help."

"I don't want help. I want Alexis."

"We agree on that at least."

She huffed, a sound that might have been a laugh any other time.

Steve stood at the door of the ambulance in silence, his attention a hundred percent focused on Rachel.

Bradley said, "You heard the woman."

Steve held out his hand. "The phone."

Bradley handed over the kidnapper's cell. Steve lifted his chin and left.

"I've always thought he was cute."

Bradley said, "Personally I don't see it."

She shoved at his arm, a tiny smile curling her lips. "Will she really be okay?"

"She and I asked that question about you a hundred times, and here you are. So we do the same thing. We pray, and we work on getting her back."

# Chapter 19

Alexis huddled as close as she could to the passenger door. They'd been so close. To the end, to being free. So close to the goal of finding Rachel, and all finally being safe. Now that was gone.

Bradley had tried, but this crazy gunman who drove like he was at NASCAR had taken her. She shut her eyes and tried to remember Bradley calling her, "Honey." Hugging her. That had only been a few hours ago. Why did it seem like forever?

The car turned a corner, and she had to grab the handle on the door to avoid leaning all the way over the center console. No more eyes closed. She would be sick. "Can you slow down?"

All the frustration she was feeling bled into her tone, but she didn't care if he wasn't going to listen. Or if she sounded whiney. He was probably going to kill her anyway. Then it was unlikely she would care. She'd be past all this hurt. Past the pain of her life being what it was. Sweet relief.

Not that she was eager to die. So much would be lost. Left behind, and left unrealized. But that was her reality, nonetheless.

_God, please don't let anyone else get hurt._ There had been enough hurt and pain so far. It was time for this all to be over.

The gunman laughed and pulled his ski mask off.

Alexis stared at him. "Aren't you worried I can ID you?"

He shot her a look. Probably in his forties, he was rough on the edges but traditionally handsome, in a way. "You'll be dead, so who are you gonna tell?"

Alexis didn't want to die. That might be the natural end of this situation, but she didn't want evil to win. Bradley filled her mind, then. A reflex. Her heart's desire, as much as she'd been suppressing it. She wanted to know what a life with him would be like.

"So you get this man his money and then what?" At least, her assumption was that it was a man who was the one blackmailing high profile people around D.C. It didn't seem like a woman would choose to victimize other women like this, but what did she know? She didn't like true crime TV shows.

Whoever it was, they had to have a powerfully good reason to do what they were doing. With every new victim they drew attention to themselves, risking each time that someone might go to the police instead of just paying up. Then they'd be implicated, and it would be all over.

Which meant, if they were clever, they were hiding behind layers of people, maybe even corporations or blind email accounts like the one she'd found. Layers of anonymity to keep their identity safe.

He turned another corner, then said, "I get that money. Then I do me. It's all about my life, my future."

"She and her brother, it's their money."

"Feds are all over that," he said. "Turns out all I needed was you and that broken nose of yours. Makes it harder to tell if it's you or Rachel." He smirked. "That was a good play, by the way. Pretending it was you in that video. Smart."

"What if I say no?" She lifted her chin, ignoring his approval of her personal choices. And her friendship. "I could jump out of the car now and run away."

"You want road rash, before that car behind us hits and kills you?" He shook his head. "You wanna go out like that, go ahead. Won't be me cleaning up the mess."

Okay, so no. She didn't especially want to do that. But still. "I don't want the blackmailer to get that money. Why do you work for someone like that?"

She could barely stomach what had been done to Rachel, it was so evil. Alexis didn't know if it was better or worse that her friend had been groggy and didn't remember it. Would the knowing be worse than simply wondering what had gone on? Alexis didn't know if she had a good answer to that.

The gunman snorted and glanced out the side window, then took another hair-pin turn. "So high and mighty. Too bad it's going to get you killed."

Alexis looked out the window on her side, hardly able to stomach much more of this. The guy cared about no one and nothing, except himself. She couldn't reason with a man like that. One who only valued getting paid. But what for? So he could spend it all however he liked, and then he'd need another job. More money.

She liked money as much as the next person. It certainly made life more comfortable. But in the last few months of being stripped of everything she'd had before, Alexis had been forced to face the fact that nothing truly valuable could be purchased. Family. Friendships. Affection. Everything she had with Bradley.

She wanted it. She wanted him

That dream of living a solitary life was still there. It might not be the hub of ministry God wanted her to be part of, like helping kids in need or people who are downtrodden, but it was what she wanted. To lick her wounds? Maybe. She'd been stripped so publicly, all over the internet. Why not rebuild her life quietly, away from all that? God couldn't begrudge her the desire to do that, could He?

He said, "You put your butt on the line to save your friends. I'll give you that."

She didn't turn from the window. "I'd have thought you would've kept them around. For leverage."

"I'll get what I want. Don't worry about my methods." She heard a tremor in his voice. He was worried?

"Who is he?"

The gunman swallowed.

"You're scared of him."

He huffed. "Don't matter. I'll be gone, and he won't find me."

"After you get paid?"

He said nothing.

"You're going to run." And leave his friend holding Rachel and Bradley to face the blackmailer. "You're going to keep the money for yourself and use it to escape, aren't you?"

"High and mighty. Just like I said."

"I can understand wanting to get away from someone like that."

The gunman huffed. "Yeah, he's so evil. There's a million of that guy in the world."

"Destroying others so he can profit?"

"Don't see what's so special about this guy." Still, that tremor was back.

"He's special enough you're scared."

His head whipped around so he could glare at her. He yelled, "I'm not scared."

Alexis lifted both hands. "Fine. Do your thing. Kill me, and take the money. Won't he just come after you, though?"

"Not if he wants what I know to stay a secret."

"So why don't you just testify against him?"

"Because he'll kill me."

Alexis shrugged. "Sorry, I'm just brainstorming. Trying to help you out of your jam, and maybe not get killed in the process."

"Like your life is so great." He pulled up at a stop light and looked her up and down. "You're kinda cute, though. Wanna come with me?"

"To a life on the run from a man you're scared of?" He was the scariest person she knew. At least right now. So who on earth was the man this guy was scared of? "No thank you."

Besides, Bradley wouldn't be there, and she was never going to trade what she had with him for this guy. Even if she wasn't scared of him, he still didn't hold a candle to that history. And yeah, she was derailing her whole "solitary healing" plan thing. Maybe Bradley liked cabins in the mountains and small towns.

Would he want to come with her?

Bradley seemed like he was interested, but wasn't he just going to go on mission again? He spent more time gone than he was here. Alexis could live the life of a military wife, even one gone on so many missions as the SEALs went on. But that wasn't exactly the full life she dreamed of. Plenty of people did their duty and spent buckets of time apart. It was hard, but they made it work.

The gunman shrugged. "Suit yourself."

She would. It was hardly a choice at all. God had put Bradley in her path years ago. They hadn't been ready for all that it was, all it turned out to be. They'd been immature. Hadn't dealt with it the right way. But they were different now. Mature—or at least more than they had been. He'd grown into the kind of man she could respect. In a way she'd never expected. He was _more_ than her dream now. She hadn't even known how to dream that big. Would never have thought to ask for a man like him.

The idea that it had been God's plan all along floored her. Maybe God had given her everything she'd ever wanted—she just had to reach out and grab it. She realized now that it had been the pain, the time spent apart, the growth—as hard as that had been—and the choices, good and bad, that they'd made, which had made them into the people they were supposed to be. The kind of people with enough wisdom behind them to be able to handle it.

They weren't done. Far from it. They were still those same kids who'd succumbed to temptation. They still made dumb mistakes, and could be just as selfish as they'd ever been. And yet, without these years in between to bring them to now...would they even be here? It was a gift. Despite the struggle. Maybe the struggle was what had caused her to realize exactly how much of a gift it was. Because otherwise she'd have taken them being together for granted.

Now she knew just how precious it was. Alexis would treasure any time they spent with each other—even if it was only a few days a year.

The gunman pulled off the street into a pharmacy parking lot. "Bank's over there. Thirty minutes to closing, so you better hustle. Got me?"

He got out, and opened the trunk.

Just left her sitting there in the passenger seat while he rooted around in the back.

Alexis pulled the visor down and looked in the mirror. She couldn't see him. If she got out and ran, how long would it be before he noticed? Screaming would draw his attention along with everyone else. Could she get far enough someone would see her and she'd be able to get help? If this was the bank, there had to be a team of feds somewhere close by, waiting for them to show up. They didn't know they would only get this low-level player. Not the boss.

Alexis slowly pulled on the door handle. The click was barely audible, and she pushed the door open an inch at a time. She put one foot out, her heart pounding. As she lifted from the seat, she saw him out the corner of her eye.

Gun pointed right at her. A smirk on his face. "Get over here. You wanna try and run, I'll shoot you in the back, leave you to bleed out on the sidewalk, and then go get Rachel." He paused for a second. "After I put a bullet in the brother."

"His name is Bradley."

"Am I supposed to care?"

He was going to care when Bradley showed up to put a bullet in _him._

Alexis walked to the trunk and saw there was a bundle of clothes inside. _God, please let Bradley come._ She didn't know what state they were in. Maybe she was alone here. But she had to pray.

"Put those on."

She unfolded the black trench coat, and shook it out. Dust puffed up and she coughed, hair falling over her face. Alexis used the hair tie she kept on her wrist for just in case to put her hair in a messy bun, the way Rachel did on her days off. The senator had been photographed plenty of times out on the town dressed like this.

Besides the coat and her hair, there was just one thing missing: the fact she wasn't Rachel at all.

"This goes under the coat."

She stared at the vest. Wires. Rectangular gray blocks that read C4.

She swallowed. "I—"

"You're taking too long." He swung it over her head and pressed down Velcro tabs on her sides. "All you gotta do is take that paper in and tell the bank manager to make the transaction. Account number's on there."

She couldn't think past what he'd put on her.

The gunman shoved aside a balled up length of rope and handed her oversized sunglasses that probably cost a dollar. Anyone who didn't know better—or who didn't look too closely—wouldn't know they weren't the real thing. Alexis had never really understood spending hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars, on something she could get far cheaper at a department store. Or a thrift store.

Her mother had drummed into her the importance of labels, and projecting the right image, but Alexis had never understood it. No matter how hard her mom tried, she just couldn't see the point of trying to impress people who only cared how much money she'd spent on her outfit. One she couldn't wear again for fear they would see her in something "old."

She slipped the sunglasses on her nose and tried to think past the shooting pain going up through her sinuses. Her nose would be crooked for life.

A life that may not last too much longer.

He pulled out a small case and opened it, took out a tiny earbud and pushed it in her ear canal. She didn't even move.

He would...

He grabbed the trench coat and forced her arms into it. Fastened the buttons over the vest.

She didn't want this. She couldn't be responsible for the lives of everyone in the bank. That wasn't the plan. This was about the money, and her friends being safe now. Innocent people were never supposed to have been drawn into the blast radius of all that was happening.

He pulled out his phone and showed her the screen. Then waved it in the direction of the bank. "Off you go."

She didn't move.

"It's perfectly stable. Until you do anything I don't like. Say anything I don't like. Ask for a pen, so you can write a note. Nothing. No hand signals, or stupid attempts to ask for help. None of that."

She couldn't speak. Even to agree. Alexis gave him a tiny nod, while everything inside her screamed No.

"Get going. Do it right and this will be over in minutes."

That was what she was afraid of.

Alexis forced her legs to move. Forced herself to look both ways, and crossed the street. _Now would be a great time for me to get arrested for jay-walking._ But no, that wasn't the plan.

God, don _'t let anyone die._

She'd been prepared when it was just her at risk. Now there were countless others who could lose their lives if this went wrong.

Alexis pulled open the door and walked into the bank with a bomb strapped to her chest.

# Chapter 20

From the rear seat of the SUV, Bradley watched Alexis cross the street. The desire to rush after her was so strong his entire body flinched in the seat.

"Hold."

He pulled his fingers back from the door handle. He couldn't hobble across the street fast enough to save her. Steve was the boss here. Bradley might be a Tier 1 Operator, but that didn't mean he could jump the gun and break from this team. From the plan.

More and more he wanted to be part of this life. Part of the fight stateside. Missions were one thing, and they had meaning, but Bradley wanted to be home. He wanted to fight on a different front now. The one that had Alexis in his house, his ring on her finger. _God, help me save her._ That dream was the best, but it wouldn't be reality if she didn't make it through this.

He'd had the doctor wrap his leg and give him a shot. Soon enough that would wear off, and he would be writhing in pain on the floor. But for now, it was all about Alexis.

"He got back in the car," one of the other team members said. "Tablet. Maybe a Surface."

Steve said, "You think he has access to bank security."

"You saw that move," Bradley reminded him about the earbud the guy stuck in her ear. "He's listening to everything she says."

"One wrong move and he's going to light up that whole bank."

A rock settled in Bradley's stomach. They'd all seen the gunman pull the vest on Alexis and strap her in. The idea that her life hung by such a delicate thread made him want to rage. Race after the man and put him down.

But Steve had said, "Hold."

And Bradley had to face the fact he'd get shot while he was still limping over there.

"Poor gal." He didn't know who said it.

Bradley gritted his teeth. Sympathy wasn't his strength. He'd rather rush in, aim his weapon, and get the result he needed. But there were too many players here to do anything other than a coordinated attack. One flash of movement to indicate someone was going after Alexis to get the vest off and this guy would probably blow up the whole bank.

He thought about her reaction and realized she'd fight whoever showed up to help her. "She'll make sure no one else gets hurt."

"How's she gonna do that?"

"By doing exactly what he told her," Bradley said. "She won't give him reason to detonate that vest. Alexis protects people. She won't rock the boat like that if she thinks someone will get hurt. That's why we have to end this guy _and_ get to that vest. Before he can slip a finger on that phone and blow it."

If that happened, it didn't matter where Alexis was. Or how many people she was determined to protect. With a vest like that, anyone within fifteen feet of her would be hit by the blast. Ka-boom. Game over.

Bradley couldn't let that happen.

"Any word on this guy's background?" Steve had someone looking into the guy, and had found out he was ex-army. Whether he knew enough about explosives to make more than a basic vest was anyone's guess at this point.

Steve shook his head. "He has tech skills, though."

Bradley wasn't feeling much better, knowing the guy had the smarts to bug Alexis. And a backup plan to destroy everything if he didn't get his money.

"Got two feds headed our way."

Bradley turned to watch their approach down the sidewalk. Steve's vehicle was parked on the north side of the street, closer to the gunman than the bank. Alexis had crossed the street in front of their vehicle, headed for the bank. The two feds moved with purpose along the sidewalk on the south side of the street. Headed for the front glass doors of the bank.

His legs twitched. His fingers curled into fists. But Bradley held himself still while everything in him wanted to rush to her. To protect her—disable that vest, if he could, and get her safe.

"Should we intercept?" one of the guys asked.

"Terrence and Mint, head for the gunman. Bradley, you want the bank?"

"I want that remote," he said, already reaching for the door handle.

"Mint, you got the feds. Everyone kosher?"

A chorus of responses indicated in the affirmative.

"Execute."

They climbed out of the car simultaneously. Bradley kept to the building fronts on the north side of the street. He kept an eye on the gunman every step of the way and made sure he wasn't spotted. Sitting in the driver's seat of the car, the guy's attention was on the screen on his lap. Bradley got close enough to see the phone on the seat next to him.

Gun held in a loose grip, he limped swiftly enough and got the door open before the man realized what was happening. Bradley ducked in and reached for the phone. Too late. It was snatched up.

"Nice."

He slid into the seat, gun now aimed at the gunman. Forcing the pain in his knee out of his conscious thought. He wanted to shoot the guy in the face and be done with this, but the remote for the vest strapped to Alexis was now in his hand. If the guy dropped it, would it go off anyway? It was too much of a gamble to know whether he was right or wrong. And it would be too late for Alexis.

"You're done." Maybe he didn't know it yet, but he was. "This is over."

Past the gunman, out the driver's window, another of Steve's men held his gun on the man. The shot would come through the window, interfering with the aim, but it would still be true.

Bradley didn't have to look to know Mint had entered the bank. None of these men messed around. Despite no longer being active military, they were all professionals. They charged exorbitant prices, but they were also worth every penny.

"Hand me the phone. Nice and easy."

"And if my hand twitches? Your girl dies."

"She dies. You die." Bradley wanted at least that to be straight between them.

On screen he saw Alexis approach a closed door. The gunman didn't even look at it. Had he given up on getting the money? If he figured this was a lost cause then that meant he was considering his options of how this was going to go down.

There was no way for him to escape. Now it was all about exactly how much fallout there was going to be. If this guy figured he was going to die, he probably didn't care exactly how many he took with him—starting with Alexis.

"The phone. Now." Bradley held out his left hand, palm up. His right hand held steady aim on the gunman with one of Steve's Berettas. This close, the guy would be dead. No question. Could the guy hit that button fast enough?

The gunman set the phone in Bradley's hand, the gleam of something Bradley didn't like in his eyes.

A car engine revved. The roar was so loud it didn't surprise Bradley when two SUVs passed the front of the bank.

Gunfire split the relative calm of the street. That rat-tat-tat of automatic fire. Alexis. Bradley's body flinched, a reaction he couldn't control these days. The reflex to dive for cover was ingrained in him—and probably meant he should hang up his uniform. No one needed a Navy SEAL on the teams who reacted this way.

The gunman slammed the tablet computer into Bradley's face.

Bradley squeezed the trigger. A bullet shattered the glass from outside. The gunman cried out, clutching his leg.

Bradley shook off the surprise, as well as the impact of the electronic device shattering into his head and shoulder, in time to see the gunman slam his door into Terrence, one of Steve's men. The gun went off again.

Bradley ignored their scuffle, figuring Terrence could take care of himself against an injured man. He looked at the phone, and saw it was fingerprint protected.

"Don't let him get away."

Terrence didn't reply. He and the gunman wrestled for his weapon. It went off, and Terrence cried out.

Bradley stowed the phone in his back pocket and climbed over the driver's seat to provide Terrence backup. _Ouch._ He got his weapon aimed in time to see the gunman limp away and the former soldier on the ground, clutching his foot.

"Go."

Bradley didn't wait around, and neither did he need Terrence's order to head out after the gunman. He raced after the limping man, following to where he'd disappeared around a corner. Bradley went wide, just in case the man was hiding out of sight, ready to attack.

The alley was empty. A dead end. He wanted to turn back, to go to Alexis and make sure she was all right. Had she been shot? Had the men in those SUVs just shot up the bank and left, or had they gone inside afterwards and finished off all the bank employees and customers? Were the FBI there?

Bradley prayed as he searched behind a car parked in the alley. Around the dumpster. Found the gunman crouched on the far side of it. Eyes wide. Blood pooling around his leg. Not much worse off than Bradley, if he had to be honest about it.

"Shoot me," the man said through gritted teeth. "Just do it."

As if Bradley would give him the satisfaction of ending him like that. "Tell me who's running the blackmailing."

"No way." The guy jerked his head side to side. "He gets wind I told anyone and I'm still breathing, I won't get the chance to take my own life. He'll peel my skin off and display it as a warning to anyone else who thinks about talking."

Bradley frowned. There was no way—

"You think I'm joking? I've seen it, man. So if you aren't going to shoot me then I don't want it out there that I talked."

"We can get you in protective custody. But not if Alexis or anyone else dies." It turned his stomach even offering to keep this guy safe.

"Leave or kill me."

"You're coming in. I'm not gonna kill you when you know this guy's name."

"Which means if you arrest me, I'll be dead by end of day." The man's mouth pressed into a thin line. "He won't wanna run the risk of me talking."

"Doesn't trust you?"

"The man would kill his own mother if he thought she was goin' to do something he didn't like."

More and more it seemed like Alexis and Rachel had been caught up in something way out of any of their leagues. Bradley was actually worried the FBI even might not be able to handle this guy. If he was as bad as this man said, even Steve's team was jumping into a live volcano.

It had to be someone powerful. Private. Someone with money and resources at the center of what was going on in Washington. An insider, maybe even someone in government. Or in the White House.

What could any of them do if they didn't know who to trust? An investigation would go on record. Even Steve's company couldn't fly under the radar forever. Eventually the man behind the blackmailing would get wind of the fact he was being targeted. Investigated. It would take man hours. Surveillance. This guy could have an army behind him.

"Tell me who he is." Bradley wasn't going to murder the guy, but this was the best lead they'd had so far as to the man's identity.

"Give me the gun," the man said. "I'll tell you, then I kill myself."

"Or you'll kill me."

"Maybe I'll kill both of us," the guy said. His face was pale, his skin clammy.

"Or you'll bleed out in a dirty alley before we're done with this conversation." Bradley came at the guy from a different angle. "Who were those guys in the SUV's who shot up the bank?"

"Either way I'm good."

Bradley pulled out the phone—the bomb remote—to call Walker and get the FBI here to pick this guy up. If they weren't busy at the bank.

The gunman's eyes widened. "You brought the remote?"

"And now I'm gonna get the FBI here to arrest you. You can tell _them_ who this guy is."

"Move too far away from the bomb with that remote...guess what happens?"

Ice cold filled him. Like jumping into a mountain lake in February. "It would've gone off." He'd have heard it. Bradley tilted his head to the mouth of the alley. "Get up. We're walking."

He called Walker while the gunman sat there, unmoving.

"Agent Walker."

"It's Bradley. I've got the kidnapper."

"And I've got four dead agents. Wanna tell me what on earth happened here? This was my operation, and you bring these yahoos to get in the way of my men?"

"Sounds like you could use the help," Bradley said. He was done waiting for the gunman to get up, so he lifted the sole of his boot over the wound. He gave the guy a pointed look, like he'd actually step on his wound. "Get up."

He dragged the man to his feet, helping some. He wasn't going to be mean about it. The gunman limped ahead of him. "I'm bringing the kidnapper to you."

"Great. Fabulous." Sarcasm dripped in his tone. "I'm pinned down. I've got carnage around me and shots are still flying. Don't get caught by a stray when you get here."

Terrence was gone from beside the car. Bradley grabbed the tablet computer and clicked the screen. He got the screen with the feds up and walked the man to Steve's team car, where one member of the team who'd been designated to remain stood.

Bradley couldn't remember his name. "Hey."

The man hopped out, got zip ties from the trunk and trussed up the gunman. Bradley had him sit in the back seat.

The team member beeped the locks and then said, "Copy that", though not to Bradley. He looked at his own tablet, "Two coming up in front." He was coordinating the fight for Steve?

Bradley wasn't going to get in the middle of an operational conversation. He flipped the tablet he'd gotten from the gunman so the guy could see what was on screen.

"Hold up." His gaze snagged, and he reached for the device. "I've got surveillance inside. I'm looking at two hallways and an office, as well as the main lobby." He paused. "No. I still don't have eyes on the woman, or Mint."

I still don't have eyes on the woman.

Alexis.

She was in the bank, unsecured, likely still strapped to that bomb. And very much in trouble.

Bradley raced for the bank. A side entrance the employees likely used to go out for smoke breaks.

Twenty-five feet from the building, there was a whomp that echoed through the air. It boomed toward him as a fireball erupted inside the bank.

Hot air slammed into Bradley, then the rush of flames. He flew backward and hit the concrete.

Everything went black.

# Chapter 21

Alexis lay stunned on the floor of the manager's office. Her hip pressed into a sharp corner...the desk. She blinked and looked up at "Mint." Whatever kind of name that was, he hadn't felt the need to explain to her. Just told her he was a friend of Steve's, and then he was scanning the vest with his intense gaze. His face had dipped to look closely at the vest, giving her a view of the thinning hair on the crown of his face. He'd shaken his head, dislodging his thick black-rimmed glasses to slip down his nose a fraction. Mint yanked one wire.

Then he'd peeled the vest off and tossed it away. From the two of them and anyone else. Toward the approaching gunmen.

Boom.

The blast had blown them both back into the office. Had he known it would blow? Mint lay on the floor now, bleeding from a gash on his temple. She crawled to him and patted his shoulder.

The men in the bank lobby were rousing. She could hear voices. Orders called out to each other.

"Mint." She shook him harder.

Where was Bradley? Why hadn't he come in to help her? She wanted to believe he had a good reason. But not that he'd been hurt, or possibly even killed. Still, it stung that he wasn't here. Maybe Mint was Steve's explosives expert, but she needed more help than that.

She was still trapped in the bank with gunmen approaching. Mint wasn't waking up. Alexis found the gun, holstered on his hip. She slid it out.

Mint sucked in a breath and sat up. Halfway to sitting, his eyes flew open and saw her there with his gun in her hand.

"Easy."

His gaze zeroed in on her. "Could say the same."

"I know how to use it." Like Bradley would ever have been okay with her living on her own without being armed and knowing how to protect herself. His instinct to make sure those he cared about were safe was part of what she loved about him. He didn't smother her with his maleness. He trusted her to take care of herself. And he'd made sure that trust was warranted.

Mint took the gun and got to his feet. Alexis followed him to the door.

He glanced out and reached back at the same time to slide his phone from his back pocket. Unlocked it with his thumb as he brought it forward so that the screen was up. He hit two buttons and put it to his ear a second later.

"Yeah. All good. Holed up in the manager's office, but we've got some serious heat coming our way." Pause. "Got it." He stowed the phone.

Before Alexis could ask what the plan was, he grabbed her hand and headed out into the hallway. They raced to the end, past a break room and the restrooms. At the end was an EXIT door.

Bullets pinged off the wall. The floor.

Alexis screamed, running in a crouch. He tugged her hand to the left, then went right and ran into her. His arms snaked around her and he crowded her into a storage closet.

Shut the door.

Alexis stood wide-eyed as Mint scanned the shelves, loaded with bottles. Cleaning products. Vinegar.

He twisted the lid off one bottle, shoved a rag inside and lit the end with a lighter from his front pocket.

Mint pulled the door open, swung the bottle and then slammed the door before she heard it hit the tile of the hallway. The whoosh that followed was peppered with shouts.

Mint opened another bottle and did the same, the air now filling with the smell of chemicals.

This time when he opened the door, he fired two shots from his gun and then threw the bottle. Answering shots made her duck to the back of the storage closet.

There was nowhere to go.

He could throw lit bottles and fire his gun over and over again. Until he ran out of bullets. And cleaning supplies.

The door kicked in. Four men rushed the room, black fatigues. Helmets and face masks. For a second she thought they might actually be SWAT. But no indications on their uniform told her that. No badges were on display.

Alexis tensed up as Mint faced them. He lifted his weapon, but the closest man slammed the butt of his rifle into Mint's shoulder. He went down. The man kept hitting him over and over again until Alexis cried out, "Stop it!"

This wasn't just putting down a man facing you, armed and intent on deadly harm. They were enjoying this. Relishing the violence of what was happening.

Two hung back at the door. The man without the bloody rifle stalked toward her, a sneer curling his mouth. His friend closed in on the other side.

"Too bad he said no survivors."

She squeezed her eyes shut. They were going to kill the FBI agents. Bradley. Steve's team. Everyone still in the bank—most of the half-dozen customers had fled when she walked in. The security guard and all the employees.

The minute she entered the bank, she'd handed the manager the paper while they all stared at the vest on display. Pretty sure she was about to get fired upon as well as yelled at, she'd done exactly what the gunman asked of her. But where had playing it safe gotten her?

Mint had gotten her out of that vest, only to have it blow up anyway. Now he was down, and she was about to be executed.

She opened her eyes. Lifted her chin. She didn't want to die, but was ready if that was what was going to happen. They didn't need to know she was scared out of her mind. God had brought her through so many things, she knew she could do this.

Still, to stand here and wait was excruciating. There was no one left to protect. Nothing to do. Rachel was safe. Bradley wasn't here. She hadn't said goodbye to either of them, and never would be able to now. She'd done everything she could for her family—the two of them.

Alexis faced down the gun, waiting for the crack.

The end.

There was no use fighting it, since she would only end up being shot anyway. She couldn't take these guys down. Nothing left to do but let it happen.

A single tear tracked down her face.

A gun went off. The two men by the door went down. The third man spun. The one in front of her spun as well, and Bradley came through the door. _Crack_. The rap of each bullet was deafening in the tiny space. She sucked in a breath as the rifle guy dropped.

Bradley pressed a button on the chord of the earbuds he wore. "Clear. I've got her."

Her back pressed into the shelves, the metal lines biting horizontal across her back.

"Alexis." Soot and dirt covered his face. He limped two steps closer to her.

A sob worked its way up her throat. She coughed it out and nearly collapsed. Bradley caught her before she could go down. She said, "Mint."

"What?"

She motioned to the man lying on the floor. There was so much blood. "They hurt him."

Bradley held her elbows until she was steady. When she nodded, he crouched beside Steve's teammate. Pressed two fingers to the man's neck, then immediately grabbed the earbuds chord again. "Get an ambulance here. Back hall, storage room. Mint is down." He paused. "Beaten. Pulse is weak." Another pause. "Copy that."

Then he was coming back toward her. His eyes intense. That hitch in his stride. His hands brushed her shoulders. His fingers felt at her throat. Like he needed to feel her pulse as well.

"I'm here." She touched his sides. Felt the shift of muscle as each breath expanded his lungs. Then the exhale.

He nodded. "I thought you got caught in that blast."

Alexis whispered her fingers over his forehead, into his hair. "Looks to me like you're the one who got caught in it."

He didn't smile. Just stared into her eyes with so much intensity. Like he could hardly believe she was here. She was alive.

Maybe he just didn't know what to say. Maybe he didn't want her hanging on him.

Alexis dropped her hands and took a step back. She hit the shelves. "Ouch."

Bradley tugged her away from them, but with the bodies on the floor there wasn't far to go before they'd have to step over someone. The acrid smell of gunpowder and the recently deceased filled the room.

Alexis touched her roiling stomach. They couldn't leave Mint in here. The EMT's needed to hurry, before the worst happened.

"Lex."

She glanced over at him, but he didn't say anything else. Did he want her to say something? Was she supposed to thank him for killing these men for her? She didn't know the protocol in times like these.

Thankfully Steve entered, followed by the EMT's, who got to work on Mint. Steve shot Bradley a look, then said, "You okay, Alexis?"

She nodded, not entirely sure she could speak.

"Get her out of here, Harris."

Bradley followed the order, tugging on her hand. She'd been dragged around over and over today. Enough that she didn't want that to happen anymore. She pulled her hand from his. He glanced at her, but she folded her arms across her stomach and moved through the door.

She stepped over those bodies. Four men he'd killed—for her. Men intent on doing that very thing to her. After she'd been kidnapped and had a bomb strapped to her.

A bomb that had gone off.

She'd nearly been blown up.

The hall was empty, but bustling movement to her left caught her attention. The front of the building had been blown to pieces. Firefighters were spraying water on the pieces of furniture and debris that lay across the floor. The bodies.

She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the look on the bank manager's face right before those gunmen had shot him.

Bradley said, "This way," and waited for her to step in his direction. He led her to the back entrance and held the door for her. They stepped into the sun, so glaring she had to lift a hand and shield her eyes.

"You've gone quiet."

She walked alongside him, mostly trying not to collapse on the ground. If he could walk, so could she.

There was so much destruction. So many times she'd thought he was dead. That she was dead. All those years, waiting for Rachel to call and tell her that he'd been killed in action. So sure she would never have what she'd always wanted. The future she wanted had been so close she felt as though she could touch it. Now...she didn't know. Didn't want to ask.

Before the end of the side street, he held an arm out in front of her and slowed to a stop. That would have been a gentle touch at any other time. Now he thought she didn't want him to touch her.

He looked...not frustrated, but the edge of it was there. He just didn't know what to do. "Please say something. Let me know you're okay."

She shivered, though the air held no chill. How she was still standing upright, Alexis didn't know. Surely any second now she would just crumple to the pavement—and all the fear, the relief—would come rushing out in one big wave.

But if he could stand, so would she.

Bradley stowed his gun in the back of his waistband and held his arms out, palms up. "What am I supposed to—"

Alexis took two steps. Her body slammed into his and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing. Hard. Enough to keep them both standing. Enough to hold herself together. Enough she knew he could take it. That she could do this, and he'd accept it. That he would be strong for her when she had no strength left for herself.

The way he always had. And, God willing, always would.

But she couldn't say any of that. Not when she felt like she was going to choke every time she breathed. Not when she could hardly swallow, the lump was so big.

A second later his arms came around her, strong but not tight. He exhaled. Alexis tried to speak, but all that came out was a sob. It didn't stop, and she cried there in his arms while he spoke nonsense in her ear and held her.

Kept her standing when she knew she would fall.

# Chapter 22

Two weeks later

The doors slid open and Bradley looked up. Instead of Alexis, who he'd been expecting to pick him up from the hospital, it was Rachel. "Where is she?"

Two Secret Service agents trailed behind Rachel into the hospital lobby. She huffed. "You can't be happy to see your sister?"

She would never know exactly _how_ happy he was. Especially considering he had both women back in his life. The Navy had been by, and there was paperwork. He'd probably have to report back on base soon, but for right now he was home. The surgery on his knee was behind him. It was time to move on with his life.

And Bradley was ready.

Rachel rolled her eyes, more like a teen than a senator. "Fine. You want Alexis. But I convinced her to stay at the compound." Her face turned serious. "Because I need to talk to you."

The orderly rolled him outside to the curb where a town car sat idling. Maybe it was for the best that Alexis was at the compound. She was protected there. And she'd visited him after his surgery, then every day of his recuperation. So technically he'd seen her yesterday.

The blackmailer's identity was still unknown. He was still out there, and a threat to Bradley's family. He wanted an update direct from Steve on that whole situation.

Bradley slid himself into the car without help. His knee was wrapped and twice the size. Crutches lay on the floor of the town car for when they got to the compound. He wasn't looking forward to the healing process, but it was this or...nothing. As it was, he couldn't be a SEAL anymore. The alternative to surgery was being benched from doing anything in the security field for the rest of his life. As it was, he'd be on restricted duty.

Steve had offered him a job anyway.

Rachel got in the other side of the back seat. The Secret Service agents got in front, and the car set off. She looked over him, the close study only family could give you. "Okay?"

Bradley nodded. "They gave me pain meds." He'd bartered them down to the lowest dose, not wanting to lean too heavily on drugs. The flip side was it really hurt. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Maybe that was a little short, but he needed to be distracted. He was far more tired, in pain—and okay yeah—grouchy, than he liked.

"I wanted to tell you in person that..." She paused. "Uncle Francis was found dead. The news reports and the police who I talked to all say it was suicide."

Bradley felt no loss over the man. He doubted Lincoln would have either, if he'd been alive still. "You don't think so?"

She shrugged. "Why would a man like that suddenly get a guilty conscience? I mean, you don't really know what's going on in someone's head, even if you're close to them. But he belittled everyone. He seemed to...enjoy it almost."

Bradley nodded. "So why would a narcissist suddenly up and decide to end his life?"

The alternative was murder. But surely the police would have found evidence of that during the investigation.

"Exactly," Rachel said. "Steve thinks he's a link in the chain, but not the mastermind. He actually believes Uncle Francis was killed by the blackmailer. Or one of his people. Though, we might never know the reason why." Rachel shrugged, her shoulders so thin.

Was she eating enough? She had seemed to be healing from her ordeal—both of them—as far as he could tell. He'd have to touch base with Alexis to know for sure, though. The two were closer than ever. And he counted himself blessed that both women had such character that they could forgive, move on in their relationship and love stronger than ever, even despite all that had gone on.

He said, "How are things with Steve?"

Rachel wrinkled her nose. She glanced at the window, and stared out at the streets going by. He let her have her quiet for a while. When she looked back at him, she smiled. "Alexis has been driving Mint _crazy_." She chuckled. "Fussing over him and hardly letting him out of her sight. When she wasn't visiting you, of course."

Bradley smiled. More over the fact that she spoke about Alexis and Steve's team members in the same context as thoughts of Steve. She was settling into life as part of the group instead of isolating herself, which she sometimes had a tendency to do. Although she was still clearly keeping Steve at arm's length.

Not for long, though. Bradley didn't think.

"She feels guilty he got hurt saving her." And Mint had been seriously hurt.

Rachel said, "It was funny when he had that concussion and he was yelling at her. Not that it was funny he had the concussion. But when he was yelling and slurring his words, she was ignoring him. Fluffing his pillow." She chuckled again, and Bradley was pleased she was enjoying life now.

The car pulled into the compound, and they climbed out. Bradley gritted his teeth and hopped to get the crutches under his arms and out of the way of the car door. This wasn't going to be fun.

The front door flew open, and Alexis ran out. "Tell me you're done talking!"

Rachel said, "I told him about Uncle Francis."

Alexis pulled up short before she slammed into him, and set her cool fingers on his biceps. Steve must have the air conditioning inside cranked. "Can I help you inside? Can I get you anything?"

Bradley said, "You can bring those lips a little closer over here."

She smiled wide, while Rachel groaned behind them. Alexis kissed him, enough for now but not so much they'd give everyone a show.

"Bye," Rachel said. "I'm leaving now because you guys are gross."

Bradley turned to her. "Call me later?"

Rachel nodded and got back in the car with her official escort.

The team assembled in a tiny room like a movie theater, but with huge recliners. Bradley tipped the chair back and the footrest up, and then tugged Alexis on his lap. She shifted so as not to touch his knee, and he kissed her arm below the sleeve of her shirt.

Steve stood up at the front, the screen black behind him. "Okay. Let's make this quick."

Someone in the row behind Bradley started making snoring noises. Everyone chuckled, while Steve frowned. "As I was saying, the FBI is attempting to gain information from the bomber. He isn't cooperating."

"They should let me have ten minutes with him," a female voice said.

Mint called out, "They don't want him missing any limbs."

"Like I'd leave a mark," the woman replied.

"Can we move this along?" Bradley said, laughing. "I need my favorite nurse to give me some T-L-C."

Steve frowned, while Alexis shifted on his lap.

"Easy."

She said, "I don't do sponge baths, you know."

Bradley figured that was negotiable. Especially considering his plans. All he needed was some time alone with her to plead his case to make this legal. Forever.

Steve said, "Perkins, give the brief about Aaron Jones."

A slender woman he would not like to meet in a dark alley strode to the front while Steve exited out a side door. Perkins frowned at the boss's retreat, cleared her throat and said, "Aaron Jones is still at large. The FBI can't find him, so we explained what we can do. They've given us everything they have on him, including his history, and we're opening a contract with them."

She glanced at her phone screen and swiped. "The second case we've opened since the bank is a missing person's case."

"I'll do it!" Mint shot up out of his seat. "Put me on the job." He all but begged for it.

Alexis frowned at him. "You're not well enough—"

Mint glared at her. "I'm sure you can find someone else to fuss over."

"Easy, bud." Bradley didn't want to have words with the man. But he would.

Steve walked back in just as Perkins said, "Mint can have the job."

"Yes!" He slumped back into his seat.

Perkins frowned. "You don't even know who you're supposed to find."

"Doesn't matter. I'm on it."

She frowned. "Emma Burroughs has been missing since the supposed suicide of Bradley and Rachel's uncle. We believe there's some significance that may prove useful to this investigation."

"And if she's dead?" Bradley asked.

Perkins shrugged, reminding him a little of Walker's official bearing. Did she have a federal agency in her past?

Steve walked over to Bradley and opened his fist. On his palm were two rings, a thicker black band and a smaller pink one. They weren't made of metal. Was it some kind of plastic, or silicone? "We use these when we're going on operation and posing as husband and wife."

Alexis shifted on his lap. Bradley winced at the tug. He set his hands on her hips and shifted her off him, then stood. "Why—"

Steve said, "If you think we're letting you take her up to your room for some...what did you call it?—T-L-C?—without these, then you're crazy." He glanced at Alexis. "We've gotten to know your girl over the past couple of weeks, and we like her."

"You think I'm going to disrespect her?" He winced, realizing they'd been down that road. Steve wasn't understanding where he was at now. "And what difference does it make if we have two rings?"

"A whole lot of difference, considering I'm a licensed pastor."

Bradley said, "Seriously?"

"Also an operation. But it's all legal."

"I'm so happy for you," Alexis said, her face deadpan. Uh-oh. "And why are we having this conversation, exactly?"

Bradley said, "Lex—"

"Maybe someone should actually ask me what I think about this," she said. "Because there are a whole lot of assumptions floating around in this conversation."

Bradley took the rings from Steve and put them in his pocket. Should he just do it? He was nervous now. More than he'd thought he would be. "Alexis, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"Because you don't want to be inappropriate when I'm helping you with your recovery?"

Someone snickered. Bradley ignored it. Trust her to get right to the point. "This isn't about convenience. It's about the fact that I've been in love with you for years."

Alexis pulled a section of hair over her shoulder and absently started braiding it. "I love you too. Of course I do."

"It's okay if you want to wait." It would probably kill him. And hello, did they need to get to know each other better? He didn't think so.

Alexis frowned, pushing the hair back over her shoulder. "You should probably call Rachel."

"Okay, that's good. You should talk to her."

"Because I'll need a dress, and she probably has one I can borrow."

Bradley felt his eyes widen. "She..."

"Plus, she should be here when we get married."

He hopped the one step away from the chair and crutches, and set his hand on her shoulder for balance. She frowned, then saw he was okay. He said, "You'll marry me?"

"Of course. It's not like I'm going to marry someone else."

Mint whooped. Even Perkins looked happy. Steve smiled at the floor. Since they were all occupied with their own reactions, Bradley swept her into his arms and kissed her, ignoring the pain in his knee.

In many ways, this was far from over. The blackmailer was still out there. They hadn't begun to unravel that web. But he and Alexis were together, finally. The way they should be.

The way they always had been.

# KEEP READING

# for a sneak peek of book 2, DEADLY SECRETS

# DEADLY SECRETS

Chapter 1

Four weeks ago. Richmond, Virginia.

Emma clutched the envelope. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled the side door open. Senator Sadler's house was huge, and in the four months since she'd come to work for him she'd never gotten used to it. She'd grown up in a historic Virginia house, but this was a modern mansion. _Keep thinking about the house._ Anything to distract her from what she had in the envelope.

And what it meant.

The house was quiet. No cars parked out front, but the Senator used the garage anyway. His staff had gone home for the night. It was the perfect time to have this talk. _Ambush is more like it._ She pushed the thought away. This was the most important talk of her life. The reason she had come to work for him.

Emma squared her shoulders and strode forward on her pumps. The watch her mother had given her slid down her forearm, the gold cool against her skin. She didn't like it, but her mother had insisted. And when her mother had posted about the gift on social media, her mother's fans had thought it was "wonderful," "inspiring," and "beautiful." So she hadn't exactly been able to argue—or stuff it in a drawer.

Another lie, on top of a life of lies. Duty. Doing what was expected of her.

She was only blowing the lid off her entire life now because she'd been forced into an even smaller corner. By an anonymous blackmailer who knew more about her than she did.

The light was on in the study where the Senator did most of his work, and the door was slightly ajar. A muffled noise came from inside. The Senator had tried to hide his grief since his son had been killed by federal agents just days ago. She didn't want to add to his distress, but she had to know the truth.

He wasn't a nice man. Hadn't been a good father to his son. The son had followed in his father's steps, making selfish decisions that hurt people.

Emma stepped up to the door of the study. She _had_ to know the truth.

A whimper drifted to her. Emma peered around the door, trying to assess what she was getting herself into. A second man stood in the study, beside the Senator's chair.

Holding a gun.

She must have made a noise, because the man's head whipped around to her. _Aaron Jones._ The aide to a senator who had been kidnapped recently. It was all connected. Aaron Jones. Rachel Harris's kidnapping. Senator Sadler, and his son's death.

The senator moaned. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and his head lolled, his chin touching his chest. Emma gasped. "What are you doing?"

She reached for her phone, then remembered she'd left it in the car. She hadn't wanted any distractions when they talked. "Aaron, what's going on?" Was the man crazy?

He turned the gun to her. "Get in here."

She took a step back. "But..." He fired a shot at her. It hit the door frame. Emma screamed and ducked into the room. "Okay, okay." She tried to think. "Put the gun down, or something."

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but in the moment she couldn't focus enough to think this through. She had an accounting degree. She handled the Senator's personal and business finances. "Money. I can get you money." Surely he wouldn't begrudge giving up what was left of his wealth in order to save both their lives.

"No." The word dribbled from the senator's mouth. "You'll have to kill me."

If that happened, Aaron wouldn't get anything. Emma was the only one who knew how to access those funds. "I can give you whatever you want, just put the gun down."

Aaron sneered. "Come and take it from me."

She stared at him. It wasn't a challenge. He was actually asking her to get the gun from him? Emma wasn't sure it was a good idea, but she went anyway.

Hand outstretched for the gun, Aaron grabbed her arm. Then around her waist. "What..?" His arm pressed against her diaphragm and she tried to suck in a breath.

"Shut up." Aaron's hand wrapped around hers. His finger crushed hers against the trigger.

"Ow. What are you..?"

He moved their aim so the gun was pointed at the Senator. "It's easy," he said. "Just a simple murder/suicide to explain everything nicely."

"No." She struggled against him. "You can't—"

"I can." He pulled her finger against the trigger.

Emma shifted her arm. The shot went wide in the struggle, blowing a hole in the chair beside the senator's head. He cried out in that gruff voice of his. Not a nice man, and he certainly had some hinky business practices, but that was what made him a great politician. Just not the best father to Lincoln, or uncle to Bradley and Alexis. At least, as far as she'd been able to tell since coming to work there. He'd been gruff with her since she was hired.

Had he known her secret already?

She wanted to understand what the reason for his attitude was but hadn't managed to break through. That didn't mean she wanted him to be killed, though. And certainly not by her own hand.

"Stop!" She struggled with Aaron, trying to get her finger off the trigger. The gun went off again. She cried out at the pain, the pinch of skin between his finger and the gun. Her ears rang. It was like standing beside a firework when it went off. The room filled with the smell of gunpowder.

She stomped on Aaron's foot. He cried out. She did it again, using her heel. When she lifted her foot a third time, she scraped the pencil heel on his shin. He shifted against her and she elbowed him as best she could with her other arm.

The gun went off again. Another shot. This time it hit the senator in the chest. He grunted. She dropped the envelope. It landed on her left foot as everything dulled to single sensations. Trapped. _Can't breathe._ She'd just shot him. The senator. Her boss. He was more than that, but she couldn't think about that right now.

She struggled against Aaron's hold, forcing him to step back. She tried to move quicker, to slam him against the wall. Her foot caught the rug and she stumbled. They hit the credenza. Glass shattered. Aaron cried out.

His hold on her loosened.

Emma ran to the senator.

Aaron fired the gun. It hit the desk beside her, in front of the now dying man. The senator's eyes pleaded with her to help. But she couldn't. She grabbed the closest thing—a plastic file tray filled with a stack of papers.

She flung them at Aaron. Pages and pages floating through the air. She needed to get to her phone.

Not waiting around for him to recover from all that flying at his face, she dashed for her envelope and then the door. The gun went off. Before she even registered the sound, pain tore through the top of her arm. Emma cried out, slamming against the opposite wall in the hallway. She raced away, down the hall, gripping the envelope for dear life. As though it might protect her. Save her.

Another gunshot blasted.

She flinched and cried out, but no more pain came. Just the ice cold fire in her arm. She clutched at it, getting blood on the envelope. Tears tracked down her face. She could hear his footsteps behind her. She hurried to the side door, where she glanced back over her shoulder. He was coming!

She raced to her car and dived in, turning the key while she shifted her hips to get out of the awkward position she'd landed in.

Aaron appeared at the door.

She screamed and hit the gas by mistake. The car jerked forward and slammed into the house. He dived back inside. She shifted to reverse and hit the gas again, peeling out in a cloud of burned rubber and the sound of screaming tires.

Emma's bumper scraped the fountain in the center of the circular drive, and she roared down the driveway.

Two streets away she lifted her phone, and the blackmailer's email flashed on screen.

No one could help her now.

# Chapter 2

Present day—somewhere in central Colorado

The inside of the diner smelled like bacon and cinnamon rolls. Mint's stomach rumbled, and a guy sitting in the first booth snorted as he walked by. Everyone else gave him some kind of reaction. They all saw him walk in. He sighed. Anonymity wasn't something he could count on. He stuck out, even with the wool cap and glasses.

Mint was dressed like most of the guys in here—jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Dirty work boots. He pushed his glasses up his nose and settled into an empty booth, far too used to drawing attention by his sheer size. It wasn't like it bothered him. He needed the edge that made people give him a wide birth. They assumed he wasn't smart, that he was a dumb jock—also necessary. He cultivated the image because it played in his favor so often.

Don't come near. Don't underestimate.

It didn't take long for her to come over. Lime green waitress uniform, strawberry blond hair pulled back in a ponytail that made her look a few years younger than she actually was. The kind of subterfuge he used every day. A shift in appearance that played in her favor. She was a girl on the run trying to blend in and stay unnoticed.

Kind of like him.

She smiled, though her dark blue eyes remained guarded. "Coffee?" Her name tag read, "Ellie." Close enough she wouldn't trip over it too much, but nondescript enough she was able to hide here. But for how long? He'd found her. How long before the FBI did?

"Yeah." His voice sounded like a rusty door. He cleared his throat while she poured. "Thanks."

"Something to eat?"

He nodded. "I'll take the Lumberjack Breakfast."

She softened a fraction. "Good choice. I'll get that right out." She took his menu.

Mint watched Emma Burroughs, former senator's chief financial officer—now murder suspect on the run—walk away. Spine straight. Shoulders square. Chin up. Determined not to break.

Mint pulled out his phone and sent a text.

It's her.

Okay, so he'd been sent here to find out what she knew and to make sure she was protected—in the interest of the team's goals. Double Down wanted this blackmailer taken down. But he hadn't thought to find this affinity with her. A kindred spirit.

They were nothing alike.

And yet...

No, that wasn't why he was here.

Mint caught the gaze of the older man behind the counter. He might be wiping the surface, but all his attention was on Mint. Watching Mint watch Emma. Mint glanced at the salt shaker, and the plastic dessert menu perched between the ketchup and the hot sauce.

The man's handlebar mustache was mostly gray. His forearms corded. Hair was cut close to his scalp. Not a man unaccustomed to hard work. And it seemed Emma's newest boss cared enough about her to keep an eye on who in the diner took notice of her.

Good.

Mint scratched at the edge of his knit cap, wishing he could pull the thing off. If he did, the scar behind his ear would be in plain view when Emma came back over with his plate. He should've sat facing the other direction if he wanted that.

She carried the dish with her right arm. Intel said her left had taken the bullet. The sleeve went almost to her elbow, loose enough to cover what scar remained. Did it still hurt?

"It's hot," she said. "So be careful."

He glanced up at her and smiled. "Thanks again."

She blinked. Emma Burroughs, Ivy League degree and a high paying job. Impressive pedigree. Poise. Style. Her eyes lost some of that guardedness he'd seen before, and she smiled back. "Well, you're welcome. Again."

He held her gaze for as long as she let him and then reached for the salt. He paused right before he shook, then replaced the salt back on the table. He didn't need vices. Even if using the salt shaker wasn't exactly an addictive habit, he couldn't risk any of that. Strength had no foundation if the tiniest thing caused it to waver.

He rolled his shoulders, holding back the wince. His own recent injury had been more of an annoyance than anything else. Alexis had been saved, and even though she'd driven him crazy—causing him to jump on this assignment—he was glad they'd found her. All was well in the world of Bradley and Alexis. Mint was happy for them and had toasted their new life together along with everyone else.

And now he was here. A nice break, an engaging hunt for a missing woman who just might be able to tell them who the blackmailer was. The team at Double Down had their eyes on Senator Francis Sadler, until he'd been killed. Maybe Emma knew the real name of the person who had terrorized several people in various levels of government and private companies. Blackmail was a low game.

Mint was all in on the hunt for who was behind this.

Especially if it meant getting Emma Burroughs out from under FBI suspicion. She hadn't killed Senator Sadler. Though he figured it was likely he'd been killed because of his involvement with the blackmailer—there was no way his death was coincidental. From the look in her eyes he'd figure the FBI was right that she'd been there. She'd been hurt. She'd seen something she'd never in her life be able to unsee.

Mint had met murderers. He knew what evil looked like. He knew deception. Emma might be scared, but there was no way she was a killer.

He would bet both their lives on it.

Mint downed four cups of coffee and polished off the plate, but not the toast that came with it. He'd eaten so much toast when he was a kid, the only thing his perpetually drunk father had actually stocked the cupboard with. If he didn't see another slice of bread in his life it was too soon.

A sheriff's car pulled up outside, three spaces down from the truck he'd bought in Nebraska. Mint left cash on the table and hit the bathroom before he used the back hall to head out the side exit. He didn't need the sheriff noticing him as well, pegging him as exactly what he was—though he might not know why Mint was there—and asking way too many questions.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the motel parking lot and headed to his room. Two doors down from Emma's.

The pool was dated, but clean. The owners were an older couple. Efficient and friendly, the kind of motel owners you'd find in a small town, fly-over state. Mint watched the parking lot through the blinds. The front desk didn't have an angle on these doors. The cameras weren't worth his worry. Only the one on the main entrance was even plugged in. The rest were just for show. He clocked the progress of the housekeeper, and when the timing was right, moved down to Emma's door.

He used his lock-pick kit and jimmied the door open in three seconds.

She was neat. Everything had been put away. Clothes folded. A small duffel lay at the bottom of the closet. He checked the safe, but found nothing. Whatever secrets Emma Burroughs held, she kept them well-hidden.

Between the mattress and box spring, he found two thousand dollars in twenties and her driver's license, both beside a bloody envelope. Crumpled, still sealed. He didn't have the tools on him to unseal it, and neither did he have the time.

Mint replaced her things, closed up the room, and headed back to his own. He stretched out on the bed with his clothes and boots still on and fell asleep in minutes.

Dark shapes twisted through his nightmares, images that rushed at him. His father's booming voice. That huge, clammy fist slamming into his face. His ribs. The smell of alcohol on his father's breath as he yelled about some infraction. Mint didn't even care anymore. What was the point when everything and anything he did was wrong?

He awoke to the feel of hot blood running down the side of his neck. Tried to swipe it away, and realized it was nothing but a memory.

Mint touched the stubble where his hair had been and traced the line of the scar behind his ear.

The room had gone dark, only the yellow glow of the parking lot street lamps to remind him where he was.

He exhaled, trying to calm his heart rate, and sat up.

Outside, someone screamed.

**

Emma stared at the dark figure in her room for a second before whoever it was ran at her, shoving her back. The elbow to her ribs took the breath out of her. He shoved her sideways and against the wall, and her head collided with the siding. Black spots blinked across her vision, then the lights of the parking lot. Her legs gave out, and she slid down to the cold concrete ground.

She blinked and looked up. Standing a ways down from her room was a familiar face, just one she couldn't place right now. He stared at her for second. Then he turned and ran.

Ran away.

Was he the man from her room, the one who'd just attacked her?

She sucked in a breath, and her head spun as she tried to figure out what was happening. Tried to breathe. Tried not to think about the senator, and the sound of a gun going off. Her arm still hurt from that night. She didn't know if she would ever forget the pain of being shot and having to patch it up herself because she was too scared to go to a hospital.

If she'd gone in, she would have gotten arrested for the senator's murder. A fact that had become even clearer in the days following. She'd been all over the local news coverage.

Had the blackmailer found her? Or Aaron Jones, the man who had killed the senator? This guy could be another associate of the blackmailer's. Had he sent an entire army after her?

Cold moved through her and she shivered, still sitting there on the floor.

"My goodness." The words were drawn out. A man's voice. He crouched in front of her, and she settled on that craggy face. The owner.

"I'm okay, Bill."

He frowned. Yeah, she didn't believe her either. He said, "Mary already called an ambulance. Can you stand?" He wore striped pajamas and slippers, an open robe over the top like a coat.

Emma struggled to her feet and sucked in a breath. She placed a hand over her ribs and winced. "Ouch."

Bill was frowning still.

Flashes of memory raced through her mind like a photo gallery. The senator's face. The feel of the trigger under her finger, the squeeze. The pain. Seeing his face on the front of a newspaper. Dead.

Hearing her name on a news report.

Wanted for questioning.

The sheriff's car pulled into the parking lot. Emma took half a step back.

Bill patted her shoulder. "The sheriff will take care of you. And I'll take a look at your door, see if you need new locks. Or a deadbolt. Okay?"

She nodded, though she hardly comprehended what he'd said. She watched the sheriff walk over for a few seconds, then turned and stepped inside her room. Flipped the light on.

The bed was rumpled. Clothes had been pulled out of the dresser. The mattress was square with the box spring. It hadn't been moved, which meant her savings—and her secrets—were safe. The person who'd come here wasn't a cop. But what did he want? It felt like Aaron Jones was toying with her.

First, she'd felt like she was being followed, and now this? What did he want?

The sheriff of this county was a different story. She'd never met him. Had no idea what to expect.

Her mind flashed again, overlaying a picture of that man right before he'd run. _The diner._ That was where she'd met him. He had come in and ordered breakfast this morning. It was a shame he was one of Jones's associates, because he'd had a nice smile. Obviously it was fake. Nothing but trying to feel her out, see what she knew.

Before they killed her.

Emma leaned against the open door and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Trying to figure out what on earth she was going to do next. This had all been about taking the power back. Confronting the senator over events long past. Finding strength to do the right thing, and finally having control over her own life.

"Ms. Stevens?"

It took her a moment to remember that was the name she'd given Bill and his wife, Mary, when she'd booked the room. Emma opened her eyes. "You can call me Ellie, Sheriff." Like she was just another regular, everyday witness. A victim of a break-in.

"Would you like to sit?"

She nodded and made her way to the wood, upholstered chair. Kind of like a doctor's waiting room seat. If the appointment had been in 1967. It squeaked when she settled onto it. She shot the sheriff a smile, and he asked her what had happened. She told him about the man in her room, unable to keep the shake from her voice. He didn't need to know that it was about more than just tonight.

It was to her advantage that he hadn't yet had the occasion to run her photo through any database. The news report of the senator's death and her involvement hadn't spread nationwide. Yet. Another story had broken days later, and hers had been buried. No doubt people were looking for her—good and bad people.

"Ellie?"

She blinked and looked up. "I'm sorry?"

His eyes softened. "You might want to think about talking with someone. It's not a bad thing to seek out counsel, even if you don't think you need help per se." He gave her a soft smile and pulled out his wallet. "My wife is licensed." He handed her a business card. "I know firsthand that talking things out can help."

Emma's eyes widened. It was a particular kind of man who could admit he'd needed help in life. She could admit, at least to herself, that counseling may be worthwhile. But did she have the time for it? Emma hardly knew what would happen day to day, as had been evidenced by tonight.

Did she want to talk to someone?

Her mind flashed again, an image of that man. Not because she wanted to talk to him—even with that nice smile of his. "I saw someone."

The sheriff took half a step closer to her and nodded. He patted her shoulder. "I'm sure Bill and Mary can move you to another room if you'd like. Help you sleep better."

"No." She shook her head. "Outside. Right after he ran away. There was a man." She waved toward the sidewalk in front of the room and tried to get her brain to cooperate. "He was in the diner this morning."

"Was he the man inside your room?"

She didn't know. Not for sure. "He ran away right after I saw him."

"Any idea who he is?"

She shook her head. "He paid in cash, and he never told me his name. But he's new in town." Newer than _her_ , at least.

"I'll talk to Patch. See if he can help me out."

Emma nodded. "Please." Her boss at the diner was a former biker—though, he'd never say "former" so she figured it was like being in the Marines that way—and he knew everything that happened in the diner. He'd even commented on the man who'd come in. The one she had seen tonight, outside her room.

Was he really an associate of Aaron's? Emma shivered. Either way didn't matter. They had found her. Which meant she had to move on, get out of town, keep running. Before they decided she wasn't needed anymore.

And they killed her.

#

# Chapter 3

Mint pumped his arms and legs and chased after the guy fleeing from Emma's room. The man's body type matched the description of Aaron Jones that he'd been given, but he wouldn't know if it was that same man unless he got a look at the face. They'd been looking for Jones for weeks. Since he'd been implicated in the kidnapping of Senator Rachel Harris. Something the whole team took personally.

Double Down was fully invested in bringing down the blackmailer. And Aaron Jones was likely a party to whatever operation was in play.

Mint rounded a corner two seconds after Jones—if this really was him—and stopped. Turned around. Looked up and down the street.

Empty.

Not even the sound of a car engine, or footsteps fleeing. He even held his breath for a second just to be sure.

Aaron Jones was gone.

Mint wanted to kick the hubcap of the closest car, but denting private property wouldn't get rid of his frustrations. It would only add to them. Mint checked the whole area to make sure Jones wasn't simply hiding somewhere. When he was satisfied the man had given him the slip, Mint made his way back to the motel.

He approached from the opposite side and headed for his truck. He settled in the front seat but didn't start the engine. The sheriff's car was parked outside Emma's room. Was she all right? He didn't like the fear that had been in her eyes when she'd looked up at him.

Pain. Terror.

He didn't like that she felt those things. Not when he'd also known those, echoed down to the core of his being. And he hated those feelings. Had spent years trying to exorcise them by being as strong as he could. As fast. As lethal.

He wanted to help her, as much as it was unwise to see her as anything other than a witness. Mint wasn't there to make her feel better. He was only there to find out what she knew about the blackmailer who'd been involved with Senator Rachel Harris's kidnapping.

It had been a complicated situation, but Rachel Harris was all right now. And Alexis—her best friend who had taken the fall for her instead of bowing to the dictates of the blackmailer—was on her honeymoon with Mint's newest teammate, Bradley.

Mint's team consisted of six men and one woman. Mint had the feeling that the boss, Steve Preston, might have had a thing with Rachel at one point. But if they did, it wasn't public knowledge. Rachel and Bradley were siblings, twins in fact. And Alexis had been part of their tribe for years.

Mint had observed the whole thing from a distance, until Alexis had been shoved into a bank with a bomb strapped to her. Then he'd been pulled in, on the job as part of the operation. He'd injured his shoulder, and Alexis had insisted on taking care of him—out of guilt. Too bad her brand of "care" involved being all up in his space. Gushing about how she was _so thankful._

An ambulance pulled into the parking lot. Dread moved through him and his fingers went to the door handle, before he even realized he'd made a move to get out. No. He didn't have the right to see if she was okay, and he never would.

Mint didn't want to consider what it was about her that caused this reaction in him. Dwelling on all that wasn't going to make his life easier.

Mint turned the brightness on his phone screen all the way down and called his boss. It was late on the east coast, but Steve never minded interruptions. That was the nature of their business.

His boss answered, "Preston."

"It's Mint."

"I have caller ID."

"My mother taught me it's polite to introduce yourself."

Steve was quiet for a second. "She really do that?"

"Of course not." She'd left before Mint could walk, and he didn't even remember her. Still, he didn't want to have a ridiculous conversation. "Jones was in her room tonight."

"He get anything?"

"No. There's an envelope under her bed, and he wasn't carrying it when he ran off."

"What envelope?"

Mint said, "Don't know. Didn't have time or the tools to get it open. But it's covered in blood, and she's keeping it with her run money and her driver's license."

"Not smart. Anyone could find that."

"Anyone?" Just because Mint had found it didn't mean "anyone" else would. His attention was half on the call and half on Emma. She sat in the ambulance now, and he was twisted in his seat trying to see her. The woman didn't want to be checked out, but was complying anyway.

"Mint."

He blinked. "Yeah?"

"I said, Perkins went through her bank accounts."

Perkins was their female team member. "She didn't find a transaction that might explain the envelope, but Emma Burroughs takes out cash a lot. Could be she paid for something with folding money. In which case, we'll never trace what it is."

"I can try a second time," Mint said. "Get into her room and see what's in there."

"It's your call, but don't wait too long to nail her down about what happened. We need to know what she knows about the blackmailer."

Mint wasn't actually convinced she knew the identity of the person who had blackmailed Bradley's sister. None of them were. Not really. Maybe she didn't even know a blackmailer existed, and she'd simply walked in on Jones and Senator Sadler having a showdown.

Mint said, "I actually have a feeling she'll run after this. He was in her room."

"Freaked her out."

He nodded, even though Steve couldn't see him. "At the least." He watched her climb gingerly out of the ambulance, one arm across her ribs. "Injured her trying to escape." His free hand curled into a fist, and he thought about slamming it into Aaron Jones's smug face.

The ambulance pulled away. She talked to the sheriff for a few more seconds, then shut her door. Mint waited, watching the room. He wasn't about to head back to his own and get drawn into this in a way that would handicap his ability to do his job here.

Sitting in his truck, watching, made this feel more like what it was. Business.

"She's our best lead right now."

"I know." Mint wasn't going to let the team down. Double Down, the private security and investigations business Steve ran, were professionals. Mint had been part of the team since he got out of the Army Rangers a few years back. He hadn't enjoyed that time in his life. It had been more about discovering who he was and making amends with himself for that. Still, the man the Rangers had crafted him to be was a man he respected. Maybe even liked.

Who he was now was more about using those skills on a local level, for a man he admired far more than any commanding officer he'd had. Steve had been to the edge of death and back. There was no one else he wanted to work for.

"I'll get what we need."

"I know you will, Mint." Steve's voice was filled with confidence. "And take care of Emma. That's the real reason I sent you on this mission, despite your being done with Alexis's cookies and brownies and cake because she was so grateful you saved her and didn't die." Steve chuckled. "But I know you won't let Emma down now."

Steve hung up. The unspoken words hung in the air even after the call ended. He watched from the truck, but Emma's light never turned off.

Mint wasn't the kind of man who let an innocent get caught in the crossfire. That might be noble, but it wasn't always the way the military wanted to operate. Sometimes there were casualties and that had been unacceptable as far as he was concerned.

That story went farther back in his history than Mint was prepared to travel. He needed to concentrate on the now, and not let the past breathe down the back of his neck. That never led anywhere good—not for him, or the people around him.

Half an hour before sunrise, Emma ducked out of her room, backpack over her shoulder.

She was running.

**

Emma walked across town to the diner, chin tucked in a scarf at her throat. Hands in her coat pockets even though she had gloves on. She wasn't sure where she would go after she got her last paycheck from Patch, but it had to be somewhere. Anywhere. A place she could disappear into the crowd once again, hoping Aaron Jones wouldn't find her.

She said, "Hi," to an older man she'd served a few times, who was walking on the street. It seemed a shame to leave this place. She'd come to like it here, especially the motel owners. And Patch.

The front still had the CLOSED sign out, so she went around back. There were only a few minutes until the diner opened for breakfast. Patch should be here.

Emma's shoulders clenched and she shivered. She glanced both ways, feeling like someone was watching her. Was it Aaron? She studied the area around her. Cars in the tiny lot behind the diner. The alley. The streets beyond. Then she went inside.

All she needed was her take for the last few days since payday, and then she could get lost. Surely Patch would understand her need to be away from here.

Okay, so there was no way he would understand.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in?"

She nearly smiled at his gruff voice, but couldn't allow it. Emma stepped into the kitchen. Patch stood at the huge metal counter, taking a swig from a mug of coffee—what he called his "drug of choice."

"Hi."

"Not your day to work the early shift."

She swallowed. Nodded.

"Trouble found you?"

She stared at him.

"I can give you what I owe ya, but trouble is just gonna keep coming." He paused, looking at her with a knowing expression she'd never seen to this extent. "Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Will I be able to convince you to stay, Emma?"

She opened her mouth to tell him there was no way he would convince her to stick around and put everyone's lives in danger, not just hers. Then she realized he'd just used her real name. "You..."

"I don't run a diner cause I can't do nothin' else."

It took her a second to process what he'd said. "I don't think you're dumb. I would never."

"I know that, darlin'. It's why I like having you around, even knowing the trouble you'd bring with you."

"I can't stay."

He laid his cup down. "I know you think that. And if you gotta run, I got brothers all over who owe me favors. Could keep you safe. Hidden."

"Brothers?"

"The kind that ride bikes and wear leather."

Protection from bikers? That sounded scary, even while she figured it could potentially also prove her safest option.

"But for right now, Kerri didn't show up. I already called the motel twice. Didn't know you weren't there." He gave her a pointed look. "Need you to work the early shift." He was back to being the tough boss of a small town diner. "After that, I'll pay you, and you can decide what you want to do."

She stared at him, her mind going back and forth between the fact she'd faced down an intruder last night—and had bruised ribs to show for it—and how much she appreciated Patch taking a chance on her. Especially considering the trouble she had on her heels.

"How did you know I was in trouble?"

One bushy eyebrow rose. "I can smell it."

She frowned.

"That, and you asked me to pay you in cash. You have no references and no cell phone."

So, she wasn't super good at this "under the radar" stuff. It wasn't like she'd ever done it before.

He said, "Go flip the sign and get changed into your uniform. Make your choice later."

Apparently he was done talking. Time to work. Emma smiled to herself as she dumped her backpack in the office and quickly changed before she flipped the sign to open.

When she unlocked the front door, a dark figure filled the windows and cast shadows inside. She sucked in a breath. He opened the door before she could even think to bar it. By the time she grasped the wood, it was too late.

He was inside.

He looked down at her, far taller now that he was standing, not seated, at one of her tables. "I'll take some coffee," he said. "After that, we'll talk about me keeping Aaron Jones away from you long enough for my team to bring him down."

His team? She stepped back, not only because he was bigger than her and he'd crowded her into the diner by sheer force of his size. Without even touching her.

"I... you..." Her brain wouldn't even work.

"Pick a seat," Patch called out from across the rear counter, where he stood in the kitchen. "Coffee will be right up."

He turned away and slid into a booth.

It was enough for her to exhale. To fake a smile and welcome a couple more of the regulars, and get the big man his coffee. How had she walked into this? She was supposed to have left, but Patch was shorthanded. And now the man was here, talking about things no one was supposed to know.

Patch was watching.

Keeping Aaron Jones away from you.

Long enough for my team to bring him down.

Her mystery man wasn't working with Jones, and he wasn't working for the person behind Jones. Emma was glad to know this, but it wasn't like the knowledge allowed her to relax. Then again, the big man might be here, but he wasn't on her side. He couldn't protect her.

She wandered back to the rear counter to pick up her protector's breakfast—different from what he'd ordered yesterday. Patch was on the phone.

"When you get this, call me. Want to know you're okay, Kerri."

A sinking feeling moved through Emma's midsection. The other waitress was probably sick, laid up in bed and unable to get to the phone. Just because she wasn't here didn't mean Aaron Jones had done anything to her. This was only a coincidence of timing.

He hung up the phone and shot her a look. "Still can't get ahold of her. I called Barb, though. She's coming in early, so you can take off when she gets here."

"Okay." Emma appreciated him thinking of that. It was a weekday, so the diner wasn't going to be crammed. But it would still be busy.

She refilled a few coffee cups. The big man shot her a look, but she didn't offer him any more to drink. He could sit there until the end of time for all she cared. That was how much she didn't want to tell him anything. Just the idea of sharing what had happened that night made her want to be sick.

The FBI wasn't going to understand that she hadn't wanted to shoot him. She might not have hit him, but how could she prove it? It wasn't like her word meant anything. All they were going to see were her fingerprints on the gun. Her blood in the hallway. Her motive—or whatever they figured would've been her motive for doing it. What did it matter if it was true, or not?

Barb showed up. Emma told her she was going in the back for a break.

She had her backpack on and was headed out the fire exit before she even registered that she still wore her uniform. Flight mode had kicked in and there wasn't much she could do about it. She _needed_ to run. What was the point in staying only for Aaron Jones to catch up?

But first, she needed to make sure Jones hadn't caught up somehow to Kerri and hurt her. Part of Emma didn't want to know. She forced herself to walk to the other waitress's house anyway. Praying it was nothing, that the girl just had the stomach flu or something.

When she found the front door open, she knew it wasn't nothing.

Then there was the blood. All over the hallway.

She shifted to step inside, to go search for conclusive news. A hand grabbed ahold of her backpack and used her grip on the straps to pull her back. She stumbled and fell against him before she managed to right herself.

The big man's dark eyes stared down at her. "Don't."

"But—"

"Don't say anything." He hauled her down the front walk. "Just get in the truck."

DEADLY SECRETS is out now.

**Visit** www.authorlisaphillips.com **for news about upcoming books.**

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About the author

A British ex-pat who grew up an hour outside of London, Lisa attended Calvary Chapel Bible College where she met her husband. He's from California, but nobody's perfect. It wasn't until her Bible College graduation that she figured out she was a writer (someone told her). Since then she's discovered a penchant for high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in happily ever after.   
Lisa can be found in Idaho wearing either flip-flops or cowgirl boots, depending on the season. She leads worship with her husband at their local church. Together they have two children--a sparkly Little Princess and a Mini Daddy--and an all-black Airedale known as The Dark Lord Elevator.

Lisa is the author of the bestselling Sanctuary (WITSEC town series) and more than a dozen Love Inspired Suspense novels. Find out more at www.authorlisaphillips.com

