Page 21 of Braxton

As much as he hated to think Quinn would throw them under the bus, he had to be rational about the situation—and that meant keeping his emotions out of it. The others were right. Until she proved her loyalty, he needed to remain wary.

Quinn came through with intel on Mesa’s location exactly one hour later.

Brax was sitting at the kitchen island, eating a frozen burrito, when she called him. Unknown flashed across the screen, but somehow he already knew it was her. “Pharaoh,” he answered.

“I always liked your callsign,” she said in greeting. “Did you know pharaohs were looked upon as more than rulers? They were viewed as gods chosen to lead their people and maintain order.”

“Thanks for the history lesson.”

“Any time. I have a location for you.”

“For Mesa?” His brows shot up.

“He’s in Miami. Opening up a new nightclub where he can sell his product, more than likely.”

Suspicion filled him. His crew had been trying to track down Mesa for months. After they’d dropped in on his private Bahamian island, killed Julien Mercier and blown up Mesa’s stash, the druglord went off the radar.

“How the hell did you find him so fast?”

No hesitation. “I was just ordered by Merlin to neutralize him.”

Fuck, Cross was killing off everyone. Or, maybe this was more about eliminating loose ends.

Brax looked up and realized his team and their significant others were all staring at him, listening intently.

“Banshee, call Pyro and tell her to get the jet ready. We’re going to Miami.”

Chapter Nine

Quinn parked her Explorer and looked out the windshield at Braxton’s team. They stood on the tarmac near the private jet, all turning at once when she pulled up. Facing them in person wasn’t going to be easy. She’d told Brax she would meet him at the airport because she had no intention of sitting in one of their Suburbans in awkward silence on the drive over. It was a good decision, too, because the moment she got out of her car, she felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. As she walked over to join them, she felt the weight of their stares, which ranged from curious to wary to outright hostile. They didn’t trust her, and she could hardly blame them.

Time to prove my worth and loyalty,she thought, as Braxton gave the official introduction.

“Hi,” she said, doing her best not to show any sign of weakness in front of the intimidating group. She knew their history, knew that each one of them was a serious badass, and she reminded herself that she was, too.

“Former CIA, right?” Her attention shifted to their hacker, Zane “Banshee” Hawkins. “I worked in Navy intel.”

Yeah, she already knew. He’d been part of Black Squadron, the ultra-secretive part of DEVGRU tasked with intelligence, reconnaissance, and surveillance. They were the “spying wing,”often blending in and assimilating with the locals in an attempt to gain their trust and ferret out important intel. She would’ve fit in perfectly. Especially since it was the one squadron that allowed women operators.

“Yeah, until they fucked me over. But, hey, I’m not bitter or anything,” she added with a sarcastic tilt of her lips.

Nearby, Ryland “Rip” Mills snorted back a laugh, and when she glanced over, he gave her a big, white smile. “I like her,” he announced and slapped Brax on the back.

The two biggest men weren’t smiling, though. Grayson “Demon” Ellis and Nik “Saint” Valentine may have given her a nod of acknowledgment, but they didn’t trust her and made no show of pretense. While the one known as Demon reminded her more of a huge, gruff lion, Saint’s endless black ink and permanent frown lines screamed danger. She noticed his wedding ring and wondered what woman was brave enough to marry such a fierce-looking man.

“I’m Inda,” the dark-haired woman said, tilting her head, caramel-colored eyes serious and assessing. “And if you fuck us over in any way or hurt any of these guys—and I’m talking physicallyoremotionally—it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Wow.And Quinn thoughtshewas ballsy.

“I’m only here to help,” Quinn assured the feisty one known as Bruja.

“Just remember who you’re helping,” Saint commented.

Mentally steeling herself against the tough crowd, she looked over to gauge Brax’s reaction. But he kept his face carefully blank as he leaned down to grab her bag. “Let’s go.”

The group boarded the plane and Quinn settled down in a seat by the window. She had no idea what she would need on this op, so she brought her duffel bag full of goodies, including everything from gadgets to disguises. Being able to switch-up her appearance at a moment’s notice had been an important skill she’d learned and perfected as an agent.

After stowing their gear, the team settled into their seats and Brax sat down next to her, buckling up.

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