to be in service any longer.
“Head out.” Jordan gave him a sharp nod as he mentally began going over the checklist of preparations needed. “I’ll call this evening with an update on my arrival. I should be only hours behind you.” He paused, and almost grimaced before his lips parted with words he had no idea how to speak. He couldn’t find the words to tell Rory how important this was.
His lips clamped shut again.
“No fears, Jordan.” Rory took pity on him. “I understand. She’s like Sabella, right? Priority.”
That was what Sabella had been when word had come through that her first husband, Nathan Malone, was dead. Jordan had known better, but he couldn’t tell Rory that at the time. He’d simply told the boy that Sabella was priority. They were protecting her for Nathan, because that was where Nathan’s heart survived.
Jordan wasn’t going to look into the fact that Rory had picked up on something where Tehya was concerned. He sure as hell wasn’t going to search that mishmash of fucking emotions he couldn’t seem to get a handle on in his own soul.
All he knew was that nothing could happen to Tehya. He hadn’t had a chance to figure out what he felt yet. He hadn’t had a chance to decide the pros and cons of a decision he knew he’d been making for the past nine months. He hadn’t had a chance to see her smile again, laugh again, or piss her off again. He hadn’t had the chance to make love to her again.
And he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to take those chances from him.
Especially not a past that should have been dead and buried eight years before at the same time her father, Sorrel, had died.
Hagerstown, Maryland
The back of her neck was itching.
Tehya rubbed at her nape, her fingers pushing beneath the heavy fall of rich red-gold curls as they cascaded down her back. As she glanced around the narrow confines of Friendly’s Bar, her lips thinned in irritation.
Nine months away from the Elite Ops wasn’t nearly enough, it seemed. The paranoia that had been part of the life she had lived before Jordan had taken her into the group had returned now.
She had officially been free for nine months. It felt like yesterday.
“Your turn there, Tey.” Voice slurred, body weaving, the customer she was shooting pool with called her attention back to the game.
“Got it, Casey,” she murmured, the music from the jukebox covering her response as she sank the eight ball and shot him a teasing smile before snapping up the wager they had on the game.
“ ’Nother game,” Casey announced, glaring at the table as though it were the table’s fault rather than his own that he’d lost the small wager.
“Not tonight, Casey.” She gave a quick shake of her head as she glanced around the room once again. “Sober up first.”
She swore she could feel eyes watching her, someone stalking her. She’d felt that way for weeks now. No matter where she went or what she did, she had that feeling of impending danger stalking her.
There couldn’t be any danger, though. She was as careful, as cautious, here as she had been most of her life. She never caught anyone tailing her or managed to glimpse anyone tracking her. No one seemed unusually interested in her, and no one appeared to be lingering where they shouldn’t.
The security systems attached to her car as well as surrounding her home never caught anyone sitting in surveillance. No one attempted to break in, nor did they attempt to slip onto her property.
The back of her neck was still itching like hell, though. That primal survival instinct was in high gear, making her restless and ill at ease.
Crossing the small, empty dance floor, she headed back to the bar and ordered another beer as she laid several dollars on the scarred wood slab.
Kyle, the bartender, slid the cold bottle across the bar to her. Gripping it, she lifted it to her lips as she gave the area another quick glance.
There were few people in the bar at this time of
“Head out.” Jordan gave him a sharp nod as he mentally began going over the checklist of preparations needed. “I’ll call this evening with an update on my arrival. I should be only hours behind you.” He paused, and almost grimaced before his lips parted with words he had no idea how to speak. He couldn’t find the words to tell Rory how important this was.
His lips clamped shut again.
“No fears, Jordan.” Rory took pity on him. “I understand. She’s like Sabella, right? Priority.”
That was what Sabella had been when word had come through that her first husband, Nathan Malone, was dead. Jordan had known better, but he couldn’t tell Rory that at the time. He’d simply told the boy that Sabella was priority. They were protecting her for Nathan, because that was where Nathan’s heart survived.
Jordan wasn’t going to look into the fact that Rory had picked up on something where Tehya was concerned. He sure as hell wasn’t going to search that mishmash of fucking emotions he couldn’t seem to get a handle on in his own soul.
All he knew was that nothing could happen to Tehya. He hadn’t had a chance to figure out what he felt yet. He hadn’t had a chance to decide the pros and cons of a decision he knew he’d been making for the past nine months. He hadn’t had a chance to see her smile again, laugh again, or piss her off again. He hadn’t had the chance to make love to her again.
And he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to take those chances from him.
Especially not a past that should have been dead and buried eight years before at the same time her father, Sorrel, had died.
Hagerstown, Maryland
The back of her neck was itching.
Tehya rubbed at her nape, her fingers pushing beneath the heavy fall of rich red-gold curls as they cascaded down her back. As she glanced around the narrow confines of Friendly’s Bar, her lips thinned in irritation.
Nine months away from the Elite Ops wasn’t nearly enough, it seemed. The paranoia that had been part of the life she had lived before Jordan had taken her into the group had returned now.
She had officially been free for nine months. It felt like yesterday.
“Your turn there, Tey.” Voice slurred, body weaving, the customer she was shooting pool with called her attention back to the game.
“Got it, Casey,” she murmured, the music from the jukebox covering her response as she sank the eight ball and shot him a teasing smile before snapping up the wager they had on the game.
“ ’Nother game,” Casey announced, glaring at the table as though it were the table’s fault rather than his own that he’d lost the small wager.
“Not tonight, Casey.” She gave a quick shake of her head as she glanced around the room once again. “Sober up first.”
She swore she could feel eyes watching her, someone stalking her. She’d felt that way for weeks now. No matter where she went or what she did, she had that feeling of impending danger stalking her.
There couldn’t be any danger, though. She was as careful, as cautious, here as she had been most of her life. She never caught anyone tailing her or managed to glimpse anyone tracking her. No one seemed unusually interested in her, and no one appeared to be lingering where they shouldn’t.
The security systems attached to her car as well as surrounding her home never caught anyone sitting in surveillance. No one attempted to break in, nor did they attempt to slip onto her property.
The back of her neck was still itching like hell, though. That primal survival instinct was in high gear, making her restless and ill at ease.
Crossing the small, empty dance floor, she headed back to the bar and ordered another beer as she laid several dollars on the scarred wood slab.
Kyle, the bartender, slid the cold bottle across the bar to her. Gripping it, she lifted it to her lips as she gave the area another quick glance.
There were few people in the bar at this time of
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