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“Have you even slept?” I asked. He’d been at his laptop when I’d gone to bed last night. Perhaps he hadn’t moved.

“Got a couple of hours. It’s all I need.” Concern pinched his brow. “How are you feeling?” He looked at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world to him. It melted my heart.

I loved how this man cared for me. Sure, he was protective, but he also knew how important it was for me to be there last night. He had faith in my abilities, and even though it went against his nature to put me in harm’s way, he hadn’t shut me out of the opportunity to get the payback I’d needed. And I couldn’t have done it without him. The day this generous, intelligent, insanely skilled man crashed into my life that day outside my apartment was a moment of serendipity I’d never take for granted. I was the luckiest girl in the world.

I shifted to sitting and rested my back against the headboard. “I’m okay. I think I’ll feel better once I’m up and moving.”

“And how do you feel about everything else?” He reached for my hand and held it between his own.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. There’s so much going on inside my head right now.” There was a lot for me to process, especially what had happened with Maxim. It would take time, but I was confident I could work through it with Brandon if I needed someone to talk to.

Despite things at the ball going sideways, we’d gotten out alive. Maxim was dead. My body would heal. Killing the Russian hadn’t been the outcome we’d aimed for. I’d wanted him to stand trial for his many crimes, then rot in prison for the rest of his days, but I’d be lying if I said his death wasn’t satisfying.

I wasn’t sure what it said about me that I could plunge a knife through a man’s neck and watch the life drain from his icy stare without feeling a shred of remorse. If anything, Maxim had been responsible for shaping the person I was today. Guessed that had backfired on him.

My cheeks puffed as I released a deep breath and finger combed my hair. “I have so many questions.”

I shimmied over so Brandon could sit beside me. I leaned into him, soaking up his warmth and inhaling a lungful of sandalwood soap and clean linen. In the space of a few short weeks, he’d become my emotional support blanket. Having Brandon near soothed my soul and gave me strength I’d never known I had.

He curled a stray lock behind my ear, then brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “Vaughn won’t be here for a couple of hours, so we have time.”

When we’d arrived at the hotel last night, Brandon had put me straight in the shower, taking care to wash every trace of dust and blood from my body. I’d been so exhausted I hadn’t even made a fuss.

I hardly remembered him tucking me into bed, but I recalled him explaining how he’d found crucial intel that confirmed the Wolf Street Mafia’s involvement in human trafficking. He’d said it could lead him to rescue other women who’d been taken. The sliver of hope in his eyes had brought tears to mine. He truly was one of the good guys.

“First, tell me how you are. About Janie, I mean.” I gave his hand a squeeze. Brandon would need to do further investigation to find who’d held Janie captive. He figured her tracker was one that no longer emitted a signal, and it would take time to decipher historical GPS data. But he was confident it could be done. I saw in his eyes how much he wanted to dive into that data, but it was more important to prioritize the women still alive. We’d focus all immediate efforts on returning them home safely as fast as possible.

He gave me a tight-lipped frown. “I’m okay. It’s brought back a lot of bad memories. Even though it’ll take time to find out what happened to her, this feels like a big step in the right direction. And when I hunt them down, I’ll get my payback, too.” Cool blue eyes met mine. “And it won’t end with them in a prison cell.”

I swallowed and nodded. “It’s what they deserve.” I’d never deny Brandon the retribution he needed. Not after what had happened to Janie and so many others. It felt…uncomfortable condoning killing, but anyone who stole people for sexual slavery was so far beyond wrong there’d be no rehabilitating them. Besides, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to hold back from ending those vile excuses for humans. Thinking about what those women might be going through this very moment sickened me.

“I appreciate your concern,” Brandon said. “But truly, I’m okay. Fire away with your questions.”

“All right, then. Fill me in on what’s happening at Dante’s compound.”

Brandon smirked, reached for the remote on the nightstand, and turned on the TV. He switched between several news channels. All of them showed similar footage. Pissy-faced ball guests handcuffed and being led out of the mansion. The FBI had made so many arrests they’d needed to load them into correctional facility buses. One suspicious death was reported, although they didn’t mention Maxim’s name.

Paramedics wheeled a man on a gurney to a nearby ambulance. Dante’s photo appeared in the corner of the screen.

Before the reporter could explain the situation, I asked, “Is that—”

“Yep. They got Dante and the governor out of the vault a couple of hours ago.”

An oxygen mask sat over Dante’s mouth while his face crumpled in agony. One wrist was handcuffed to the stretcher, which seemed a little excessive since I didn’t think he could crawl, let alone run. Agent Williams climbed into the back of the ambulance after the paramedics loaded Dante inside.

“What happened to him?” I asked. “Did he get hurt in the blast?”

“No. He sustained a flesh wound or two.” Brandon brushed lint from his shoulder. “Possibly caused by bullets fired from my pistol.”

I turned to face him, brows raised. “You shot him?”

“Only twice.” Brandon lifted one shoulder. “He said something rude about you, and it bothered me.”

“Glad to know chivalry isn’t dead.” I shouldn’t laugh, but since it was Dante, I didn’t feel bad about it. “How is he still alive?”

“I know where to shoot someone so it will be incredibly painful, yet won’t kill them fast. He’ll still get his trial and life in prison.”

I couldn’t even be mad at him for losing his cool with Dante and potentially spoiling that part of our plan. “So”—I nudged his shoulder—“we did it?”


Tags: Julie Weaver Team Zulu Romance