Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“I have.”
“Not enough if you think this is about revenge. Dig deeper. You need to know who you’re dealing with. No. Never mind. I’ll kill him while you’re researching.” I stand up.
He stands up with me. “I know where he is. I know who he’s with. You need me. If he’s what you say he is, you need the kind of backup I can provide.”
“If Smith is that kind of backup, he’s not what I need.”
The door chimes and a giant of a man with a scar down his cheek walks in. Blake doesn’t look to the door, but his lips twitch. “That would be the man I propose as our third arm.”
I watch as the man saunters toward us, an evil smirk on his lips. He stops at the end of the table between me and Blake. “Who the fuck are we killing today? And please tell me we get to make them suffer.”
“This is Savage,” Blake says. “He likes to kill bad guys, but you should know that he’s pretty fucking bad at following rules.”
A prickle of unease slides through me that has nothing to do with Savage. My gaze jerks toward the house, and there’s a shadow that moves. Someone is there. “Tell me right now that’s your man,” I say, without looking at Blake.
“It’s not,” Blake says, and the three of us are already moving toward the door.
Chapter thirty
Ashley
Smith and I sit in the living room with me on the couch and him on the coffee table in front of me. “I’m terrified for you with this man, Ashley,” he says. “I need you to listen to me, really listen to me.”
“He left so you could trash talk him. You know that, right? He hates himself. He thinks I should hate him.”
“And you should. You don’t know who he is.”
“Noah. Aaron. The names don’t matter. The man does.”
“You’re right, but his reason for changing names matters,” he argues.
“Yes,” I bite out. “It does. Do you know how he came to be in the CIA?”
“I know how he pissed off Mick.”
“Do you know how he came to be in the CIA?” I ask again.
“What story did he tell you, Ashley?”
I grimace. “It’s not a story. It’s the truth. He was an attorney, a public prosecutor. He went after a kingpin in a cartel at all costs and won. Except, he was in danger and the CIA recruited him.”
Now Smith grimaces. “He was a damn assassin for the CIA.”
“I know who he was, who he is. He still is that man. I know he’s killed. I know he can kill. I know.”
“He killed Mick’s wife and two kids.”
“He didn’t know the wife and kids would be there.”
“You believe that shit?” he challenges.
“I do, Smith, and if you gave him a chance, if you got to know him, you would, too.”
“Ashley—”
“You left me in a hellish life alone. Why do you even care, Smith?”
He sucks in a breath and stands up, walking around the coffee table to stand at the fireplace, his back to me, his shoulders tense. “Ashley—”
“It’s okay,” I say, standing up as he turns to face me. “We were friends, not lovers. We weren’t in love, Smith. I couldn’t love anyone but him, and you knew it.”
“I should have changed that.” He steps to the opposite side of the table again. “I regret—”
“Don’t. I’m not the one for you, but I am your friend. Please be mine.”
“Damn it, that’s what I’m trying to be. A good friend and friends don’t always say what you want to hear.”
“Is there nothing in your military career, or even your career with Walker, that you regret?”
He cuts his stare, swallows hard before he looks at me again. “We aren’t talking about me.”
“Why? Why are you different than Aaron?”
“Aaron or Noah?”
“He can’t be Noah. It’s dangerous.”
“And yet he told you his name was Noah. Doesn’t that sound strange?”
“Look him up. Call your people. The Noah story is true.”
“He’s not even in the CIA database,” he snaps.
“Because they’re trying to kill him!” I argue. “Adam told us all that he was setup.”
“Mick is trying to kill him,” he says, ignoring my comments about Adam.
“Mick is in the CIA,” I remind him.
“Mick doesn’t control the higher-ups.”
“You know this how?” I challenge.
“I’ve seen a lot of dirty CIA agents.”
“You were military. You weren’t even CIA.”
“I was a lot of things you don’t know or understand.” He scrubs his jaw. “Want a beer? I damn sure need one.”
He was a lot of things I don’t know? Smith doesn’t wait for my reply. He turns and walks away. I sit back down and start to replay those moments with Aaron before he left. He doesn’t want me near Smith and yet he called him. I don’t understand. What is this man, Aaron, not Smith, doing to me?