Page 7 of Deceit

“Where’s the fun in that when I get to hear you bitch at me for five minutes?” I roll my eyes as I get to my feet. “Where the hell is that governor of yours?"

He's irritated and, if you knew him, isn't like this at all.

Out of all the men I work with, Mills is the most carefree, the jokester, the one who'll make you feel better after a bad day, and the easiest to handle.

But this is Marty we're talking about, a man that is like a brother to us, and he's in serious trouble.

Hence why we're here.

"Probably through the laundry room already."

"Why the fuck didn't we do that?"

"C'mon—" I tug on his hand, not about to explain the plan to him for the second time. “—complain later." He follows, and we only have minutes, maybe seconds, to reach all three of them before something terrible happens.

Hopping over the governor's balcony railing, we enter Wade Lockwood and his wife, Reagan's bedroom. The smell of fresh sheets fills my nose as we stride through the white french doors, careful not to knock into anything.

Voices carry from downstairs, giving me a slight twinge of relief that everyone may still be okay.

That Marty may still be alive.

I shouldn't have let him come alone, but Mills and I had to scoop up Wade and his son, Huck, before anyone else did. However, things never go well when it's one against multiple.

A female suddenly screams, and my feet give out mid-stride before big hands catch me, pulling me into a hard chest before I crash into the hardwood floors.

"Calm down, Lou Boo," Mills whispers gently in my hair. "We got this shit." I'm not sure if he's trying to convince himself or me because his voice cracks.

That sounded like…

"Mills…I think that was Reagan," I mutter, reaching for his hand on my shoulder. I'm on the brink of a nervous breakdown; I can feel it. Marty and I fight a lot, but I love him. He's a piece of me.

They all are—Mills, Marty, Kyson, Bishop, and Blue. The last person is debatable, but that’s another story. We’re all part of the most elite, secretive, and dangerous group in the country—B723.

We’re assassins.

We kill the bad guys.

We keep the American people safe, sound, and protected from outside and inside threats.

We’re family.

"Call Lockwood," Mills orders, giving my palm a squeeze before rounding me to take the lead out the long hallway.

Plucking my cell out of the pocket of my leggings, I shakily speed dial his phone, and he picks up on the first ring.

"I'm moving in," he answers gruffly.

"Hold on," I scold. "Not—"

"He shot my fuckingwife, Em. I know her screams, trust me."

Ew.

"You'd hear more if she was hit somewhere vital because Marty would've already killed someone."

"Emmy," Wade fumes lowly. "Get in position...because, in one minute, I'm moving."

I snap my fingers once, getting Mills's attention before covering the mouthpiece to my phone. "He's about to move."

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