Page 21 of Dagger

The man hesitated. He wasn’t used to being dismissed, especially not by a man who carried himself like a threat. But something in Dagger’s stare made him back off.

“David, please. I can handle this myself,” Quinn said. The DA, Delta Asshole, retreated.

Dagger pulled Quinn aside. His grip firm but not punishing. Then he let loose.

“Following you? Dammit, Quinn, I’m not a stalker.” Fuck if that didn’t hurt. What kind of terrible opinion did she have of him? Responsible for her husband’s death, not fit for her nephews, and now he was a skeevy pervert? “I’m here for work. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Work?” The heat in her voice faltered, replaced by something wary.“So, we just happened to land in the same place at the same time?” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Of all the bars in Caracas.” She shifted.

“You’re leaving.” His words came out hard. Absolute. Caracas was a goddamn powder keg, ready to blow at any second. Herrera’s insurgents were moving in the shadows. His team was here for a reason. She was not supposed to be here.

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not staying here, Quinn. It’s not safe.”

“Oh, is that so?” She crossed her arms, the fire in her eyes burning hotter. “What, exactly, do you think you’re going to do about it?”

“I’ll put you on a flight myself.”

A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Try it, Dagger. I dare you.”

His jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

She wasn’t fucking listening. But when did she?

“You can’t strong-arm me into going anywhere. You’re not my keeper. I have a job here,” she continued. “The US government doesn’t just hand out embassy contracts to anyone, you know.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. Dammit, he could chew glass, and at the same time, he felt justified in all those times he’d chastised a dismissive Brian that Quinn was capable of so much more. So, he couldn’t tell her to leave if this was official State Department business. If that was the case, it was his duty to warn her. Because she had no idea what kind of danger she was in.

“Quinn, Caracas isn’t Virginia Beach. This place is a goddamn war zone just waiting for a spark.” His voice dropped lower. Measured. Dangerous. “You won’t want to be anywhere near the blast radius when it happens.”

She tilted her head, arms still crossed. “You really think that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No, that’s not?—”

“I have security.”

Security. His gut tensed.

“David Langford is former Delta, and Aegis Force Solutions, his company, is handling the security detail for the embassy project.”

The name hit him like a punch to the ribs. A private military company, known for using subpar security operators, slapping a price tag on their skills, and selling them to the highest bidder. They were glorified mercenaries, corporate-owned, loyalty bought and paid for.

“Aegis Force Solutions,” Dagger repeated, slow and deliberate. Behind him, the team started murmuring. Quinn’s eyes flicked toward them, then back to him, looking hard-pressed, not just by one SEAL, but by seven more. “So, you’re putting your life in the hands of a bunch of mercs playing rent-a-cop?”

Brawler scoffed. “Yeah, because he’s got such a great track record.”

Shark shook his head. “Langford? He’s a goddamn goatfuck in the making.”

Easy snorted. “Yeah, figures. He’s running his own show?”

Flash let out a low whistle. “Christ. Hope you got a refund clause, and your life insurance is up-to-date.” Twister pulled a face and nudged Flash, who shrugged.

Quinn’s expression didn’t change, but her crossed arms tightened. A flicker of tension in her jaw. Dagger knew that look. Something had just landed.

But then she lifted her chin. “They’re professionals.”

“They’re mercs,” Dagger shot back. “Langford? He’s not running a goddamn charity, Quinn. He’s running a business. One that only cares about the bottom line.”

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