“Why are you helping me?” I ask after taking a long drink. I fall back against the stiff pillow, my one good eye focused on him.
“Most people would wake up in the hospital and ask what happened.”
“I deserved what I got. Why am I still alive?”
“Sheer will and stupidity?”
I frown.
“You mean why didn’t I slit your throat when I first laid eyes on you?”
I swallow and nod.
“Lauren Vos.”
“You knew her?”
It wouldn’t surprise me. Feds cross paths regularly with Cerberus. It doesn’t always go well. The FBI likes to pretend they’re the be-all and end-all, and hate that they really have no control over Cerberus when most of their operations carry them out of the country. But if anyone in the agency can make a friend, it would’ve been Lauren Vos.
“I met her four days ago.”
“F-four? She’s alive?”
“And feisty as hell.”
This brings a smile to my face.
“Did she come down here with you?”
Kincaid nods, the movement of his head making my vision swim a little. Apparently, I have a concussion.
“She did, but she refused to leave after we found you. She said she still had a job to do. I thought Legend was going to have a fucking coronary when she blew him a kiss and walked away.”
I groan after attempting to laugh. “That sounds like her. Where was I?”
“In a tiny village just north of San Salvador, about three hours away from where they grabbed you. She told us everything and gave us the information from that tracker you have. Good call by the way for not letting your agency know you had it.”
When he speaks about it, I can almost feel the tiny chip in my neck heat. I haven’t given the thing much thought since it was inserted over a decade ago, and after the second day of being with Ernesto without the feds storming in and saving me, I figured it no longer worked.
“The chips were Lauren’s idea.”
“Smart move. It’s the only thing that saved you. I don’t think you had much longer.”
“They told me I was dying that day. I don’t think I had but minutes left.”
“Well, Thumper, thank fuck we got there in time.”
“No,” I shake my head. “Javier.”
I don’t deserve that name. I didn’t earn it, and every second I was with them was a betrayal.
Kincaid gives me a quick nod. “Do you need more water?”
I lift my head in answer, feeling like I’m dying of thirst, which is a crazy feeling because there are so many other things wrong with my body, that needing a drink should be the last of my worries.
“About Cerberus, I want you to know it wasn’t personal.”
His hand rests on my shoulder as he pulls the cup away.
“It was personal.”
I have to look away from him. I went there for a job and stupidly let myself become a part of that brotherhood. I started to believe I was doing good in the world.
“I want to apologize. I know it won’t make any diff—”
“Gene Samuelson made it personal.”
“My handler?”
“We worked a case with him over a decade ago. You know we’ve never been a full-disclosure organization, and apparently, they withheld information on a case they needed help on. We reacted with the info we had, and it went south very quickly. Samuelson was held accountable and demoted. He blamed us. Your job to find information on Cerberus wasn’t even sanctioned by the FBI. They weren’t looking into us. Samuelson was. Even after ten years, he was still bitter about what happened on that mission, and he was looking for a way to get back into the Bureau’s good graces. I imagine he felt like taking down Cerberus would look good to the director.”
“I found nothing.”
“There’s nothing to find,” Kincaid says, and I know it’s true from having been with them for months and months. “We withhold information and don’t speak openly about what we do to protect everyone. We do it to protect our families. To protect the identities of the victims we save. They’ve had all of their dignity stripped from them. The last thing they need is their traumas being broadcast and talked about by people unrelated to the case.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I betrayed you.”
Kincaid’s lips form a flat line, but he doesn’t say that he forgives me.
“How’s Jinx?”
“Sore. Took two to the back of his vest, but he’s fine. You’re an honorable man, Thump—Javier.”
I shake my head so much in denial, I pass out from the pain.
Chapter 27
Cara
Ivy gives me a small smile from the couch.
“Am I bothering you? I can go back to the room.”
“Your pacing doesn’t bother me. Is there something I can do to calm your nerves?”
“Would I be judged if I started drinking at nine in the morning?”
She chuckles, but then her face grows serious. “I don’t think drinking to deal with stress would be the best thing.”