Page 22 of Under Pressure

Delta tried to pay attention, but his mind was elsewhere, enjoying the lingering taste of his trailing memories. As if to reward him, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and his muscles unconsciously flexed. He couldn’t get his phone out fast enough. Kendra?

Pulling it out, he saw it wasn’t her. Of course, it wasn’t her. She’d made it damn clear where they stood. Nowhere. He’d never hear from her again, not if she could help it, which of course only drove him harder. He was nothing if not competitive.

Checking the display on his phone, there was an unread message from a training contact he had saved as ‘Sky’.

Target is leaving town. Headed up north.

He wrote back instantly, leaning forward and alert as hell.

How far is she?

Sky responded immediately.

Thirty-minute lead. I would have gone after her, but I’ve got eyes on your staff sergeant.

Wasting no time, Delta jumped up from his chair, nearly knocking over the empty pint glass in front of him. Both guys at the table snapped toward him, likely trying to figure out what the hell he was doing.

“I’ve got to go.” Delta threw cash down on the table. “Sorry, gents.”

The tracking beacon he’d put on Kendra’s rental car had a tendency to go dark when he needed it most. He needed better equipment.

“Where’s the fire?” Warren asked suspiciously, standing with him.

Carrick stood as well. “Buddy, you don’t seem good.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Delta dismissed his friends.

He casually saluted them both, unwilling to say anything. He spun and marched off the patio, taking a rear staircase that led farther down into the marina beside them—into the shadows of the night. Reaching into the back of his jeans, he adjusted the pistol he always carried concealed, comforted by the steel’s presence.

“Hey,” Warren called after him in the dark alley between buildings, “wait up.”

Delta rotated, seeing his friend and boss appear in the shadows. He remained silent, feeling his phone vibrating again in his pocket.

“What are you up to?” Warren asked in a low, serious tone. “I know you, man. Something isn’t right.”

“I’m fine,” Delta lied. “Seriously, I’ve just got stuff to take care of.”

“Stuff?” Warren probed.

“Stuff.”

“I need you to deploy in two weeks. I’m questioning if I need to get you assessed first.”

Delta raised his eyebrows, knowing what that meant. “I’m good. I’ll be there.”

Warren crossed his arms, a threatening tone taking over. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The challenge was clear. Delta squared his shoulders, flexing his fists. The guy was like his brother, and that meant they’d fought…a lot.

“Are you seeing her again?” Warren quizzed. “Is that what this is?”

“Who?”

“Your lady cop.” Warren’s gaze intensified. “She gets under your skin, huh?”

“My business is my own,” Delta growled, making his boundaries understood.

Warren clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Stubborn, as always. Like a mule.”

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