“I don’t want to live without you, so I’ll take the scary. I’ll take whatever comes as long as I’m with you.”
“I know you will.”
He kissed her, deeper this time. Then he removed her clothes and filled her until every drop of fear deserted her.
The fear would return again, and when it did, he would fight it with her. Fuck it out of her. Break through it piece by piece.
With every word, every touch, every passing hour, they were moving forward. Together.
Two days later, they were sharing an early breakfast alone in the kitchen when Cole darted in from the hall, carrying a laptop.
“I found the last link.” He set the device on the table and pointed at the screen, his eyes tired and bloodshot.
“The last link?” Tomas knew Cole was making progress with the data they’d collected, but he had no idea how close they were. He squinted at the screen, which displayed some kind of ledger. “What am I looking at?”
“Mason Sutton’s bank records.”
“We already scoured those.”
“This isn’t his personal bank account.” Rylee leaned over Tomas’ shoulder, eyes on the laptop. “These are financial records for his orthopedic practice. I can’t believe you got your hands on this.”
“Look.” Cole moved the mouse, highlighting a ten-thousand-dollar withdrawal listed under miscellaneous. “Six months ago, he wired this money to another account.” He switched the screen to Paul Kissinger’s bank records. “There. Ten-thousand dollars came into Paul’s account on the same day.”
“Goddammit!” Rylee straightened, her eyes aglow with fire. “Mason paid that man ten-thousand dollars? To do what? Kill me?”
“No,” Cole said. “Mason hired Paul to watch you and report back your activities, specifically who you were fucking. That’s all Paul did until the night Tomas left him in the desert.”
The night Paul tried to rape Rylee.
A torrent of emotions flooded Tomas’ chest, but regret from killing that man wasn’t one of them.
“Mason didn’t put a hit on me.” Rylee released a slow breath and lowered into the chair beside him.
“I’m still going to kill him.” Tomas gripped her knee.
“No, you’re not.” She ground her teeth. “I’m really fucking angry that he hired someone to stalk me for six months, but you’re not going to kill him, Tommy. He’s not worth the effort.” She turned back to Cole. “How is Paul Kissinger connected to the hitman?”
“He’s not. Paul was a run-of-the-mill private detective, skirting around the law and doing dirty jobs to make an extra buck. No question, he was a sleazeball, but he had nothing to do with the hitman.” Cole looked at Tomas. “Daniel Millstreet worked for someone else, and he arrived in Texas on the same day that I did.”
“How do you know?” Tomas asked.
“Data from the phone we found on his body. Someone dispatched him to Texas. For one reason only.”
“To kill you?”
“No. To kill everyone close to me, starting with Rylee.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t even know you before all this started.”
“They bugged your house the day you drove to the desert. The moment you walked into Tomas’ life, they connected you to me.” Cole paced in front of the evidence board, motioning at it. “I’ve been linking all the data you collected, putting the findings together, and the facts are these.” He stopped and met their eyes. “Someone from my past, someone related to Thurney Bridge, wants to hurt me or pull information from me. Maybe both. If they wanted to kill me, they would’ve sent the hitman after me, not Rylee. I’ve been in hiding for the past seven years, retired from the activity, and they’ve been patient, waiting for me to return to the United States.”
“You’ve been outside the country all this time?” Tomas pressed his fingers to his brow. “No, wait. You were here a year ago when Tate contacted you.”
“I came here twice for Tate, staying only hours each time. And I joined the rescue mission last month to retrieve Luke and Vera in California. Again, I was in and out within hours. This visit is the longest I’ve been stateside in seven years.”
“Why?”
“I’ve always worked abroad, and I’m always working.” Cole released a slow breath. “Someone has been waiting a long damn time for me to return, and they know I’m connected to you.”
The hairs rose on Tomas’ nape. “They’ve been watching my house.”
“Yes. They knew when we turned up there. You, me, Rylee, and Paul Kissinger.” Cole resumed pacing. “The hitman called Paul’s phone when he showed up at your house, which suggests that Paul was on the hitlist. Good thing, because that’s how I was able to track the hitman’s location the night he found Rylee.”
“Jesus.” Tomas leaned back in the chair, his mind spinning.
“I assume they have eyes on Mason Sutton and Detective Hodge, too.” At Rylee’s gasp, Cole shook his head. “If they were in danger, they would already be dead. Whoever is watching knows you’re not close to them.”