Page 80 of Maddox

“Jesus, bud. I don’t have a goddamn helicopter.” His laugh was tight. “I’ll see what I can do. Driving a black Humvee these days.”

He had me laughing. “Always a military man.”

“Not a chance. Those days are long gone.”

Yeah, I knew they were. After he’d been transferred to another unit, he’d found himself as a prisoner of war for almost six months. He’d been honorably discharged with a permanent disfigurement and a hatred for the fight. Not that I could blame him. He’d seen the worst in humanity, enduring aspects of torture he’d only briefly mentioned over a bottle of scotch years before.

However, he’d earned his money and whoever he was working for was his business. What I knew was that with his connections and abilities to hack into any system, we might stand a chance of learning what the hell we were dealing with.

Plus, if Kage said the man could be trusted, I’d believe it.

I headed down the street, turning down another and waiting to ensure I wasn’t being followed before backtracking into the street entrance of the underground garage. Twilight would settle in about thirty minutes, which would help provide some cover.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t anxious.

The time spent waiting was annoying.

When she appeared from the stairwell, her face flushed, I was forced to breathe a sigh of relief. There was nothing worse than not knowing what we were dealing with.

She looked over her shoulder, obviously nervous, but as soon as she noticed me standing in the shadows, I sensed a touch of excitement.

Given I’d insisted we stop and purchase a few things for her, she’d changed into jeans, her long hair once again controlled by a ponytail, the strands shifting back and forth across her shoulders as she walked. Wearing flats, she appeared far too young for an old man like me.

And yet, my cock stiffened from the sight of her.

“Success?” she asked as soon as she was standing in front of me.

“My buddy will be here any minute.”

“Anything I should know about him?”

I moved in front of her until we were just inches apart. “He’s not one of your stories. No matter what you hear or what he tells you.”

“You have me intrigued.”

“Don’t you dare.” I had the strong urge to touch her face. When I placed my flexed fingers against her cheek, my body had the same reaction as it did every time I touched her.

Strong and almost uncontrollable desire.

“But he’s trustworthy?”

“More than almost any man I know. He’s into some fascinating private work. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“That means illegal.”

“Likely.”

“How do you know him?”

“We served together.”

“Why does a man once considered a hero turn into a criminal?” she asked, tipping her head.

Christ, I wanted to do more than just touch her. The urge was stronger than ever. “When you’re left for dead in a brutal country with no hope of escape, you think of alternative methods of making your living.”

“Just like happened to you with Alfaro. Right?”

“You ask too many questions.”

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