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“It’s you,” she whispered.

Peter looked between Carrie and Ripley.

“Carrie, baby, what is it?”

“All this fucking time, you’ve been here making me play a god damn cat and mouse game?”

Ripley cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Carrie. When Carrasco wanted to come to D.C. and I found out you were staying in town for awhile I had to reach out. But I couldn’t blow my cover.”

Peter held up a hand. “Someone care to fill me in?”

Ripley looked at Carrie expectantly and she sighed.

“Turns out I met Ripley six months ago. In Colombia. I was kidnapped by someone and would have either died or been trafficked if he hadn’t helped me escape.”

Peter’s blood ran cold and the knots were back in his stomach. “Jesus Christ, Carrie. When were you going to tell me? Is that why Tom made you go to the therapist?”

She gave a slow nod. “Yeah. It fucked me up pretty bad. I tried to hop around the world on a few other assignments, but Tom brought me home and benched me until I got better. Can we please not make a big deal out of this right now? I’m fine.”

He wanted to pull her into a hug, but Gage and Lola were in the kitchen, and Tom would be there any minute.

So he just held her hand and nodded toward the kitchen.

“So, Boomer, huh?” Carrie said when his friend fell into step beside them.

Gage and Peter both snickered and Ripley growled. “You guys are un-fucking-believable.”

To Carrie he said, “Call me Ripley, please.”

Reggie gave Peter a nod as he pulled out a chair to sit at the table. “Sorry, I couldn’t keep the little hellcat inside.”

Peter watched Carrie fight the urge to stick her tongue out at Reggie and he chuckled.Good girl,he thought.

Ripley stepped around them and gave Reggie a bear hug. “Good to see you, man.”

The group gathered around the table, and Gage pulled out beer and soda for everyone.

“Let’s get Carrie caught up while we wait for Tom,” Ripley said. “He knows a good chunk of this already. The broad strokes anyway.”

Carrie had a notebook in front of her ready to take notes. Peter sat on a barstool next to her, his arm draped around the back of hers. He had no desire to be apart from her anytime soon.

“First of all,” Ripley said, “I’m so sorry for all the danger I put you in. Especially now that I know you’re Peter’s girl.”

Carrie waved dismissively. “I’m doing my job and without you I wouldn’t have met Peter.”

After taking a long pull from his beer, Ripley began repeating the story he’d started in the car.

“Wait,” Carrie said, holding up a hand. “Why didn’t Peter figure out that he was dirty in Colombia? Or why didn’t you tell him?”

“Peter was working a totally separate group of assets at that time. Our paths crossed rarely and in a situation like this, even though I trust Peter with my life, it’s always best to limit the number of people who know what’s going on. The bigger your circle, the more likely your cover gets blown.”

Carrie stopped him several more times as he told his story. When he’d finished recapping what he’d told them in the car and was about to finish the story, a knock sounded at the door.

All three men stood and withdrew their weapons.

“Jesus,” muttered Lola who had been quiet up until now.

“You stay right there,” Peter ordered Carrie as he and the other men began moving to the front door. Her eye roll did not go unnoticed. At the door, Ripley peeked out an his shoulders sagged in relief.

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