Page 86 of Protected from Malice
I pull into the parking lot and find an empty spot, then shut the car off. My voice goes rough. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Eden safe. If either of you would rather not be a part of this?—”
Indy punches me with his prosthetic hand, and shit, does it hurt. “Fuck you, Rafe. Do you really think I wouldn’t be there? That I wouldn’t want to be a part of this? I know what you do. And I’m more than okay with it.”
“So am I,” Webb says. “I know I wasn’t on your team before, but the way I see it, we’re a team now. And our mission is keeping Eden safe. Shit—” He stops. “Eden might not be my sister or my girlfriend, but I like her. A lot. Whatever it takes, I’m on board.”
My throat goes thick for a second.
Shit.
I missed working with Indy.
I missed being part of a team.
Swallowing hard, I find my voice again. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” I lift my chin at Indy, then Webb. “Are we ready?”
In unison, Indy and Webb reply, “Ready.”
In near silence, we exit the car and head away from the apartment building. All in dark clothes, with hoods pulled up around our heads, we’re nothing more than shadows creeping through the night.
Just as we used to, we wordlessly fall into position. Indy at the front, me at his six, and Webb a few steps behind me.
The quarter mile to the house is one of the most critical parts. We don’t want a curious neighbor to notice three large men skulking through the night and call the police. But thanks to our training, we cross the distance without notice. The only living being we come across is a rabbit a few houses short of Rickard’s, and it only stares at us for a second before bounding away.
As we draw closer to his house, my adrenaline surges.
If it’s him…
He terrified Eden. Hurt her, even if it wasn’t directly. Anything could have happened if the kidnapper took her. Fuck. Eden could have ended up like Mandy.
Fuck.
No. Focus.
Now’s not the time for this.
After more than two decades of rigid control over my emotions, now’s not the time to fall prey to them.
Setting my jaw, I take a deep, steadying breath. And another.
Just ahead is the edge of Rickard’s property.
As previously agreed, we duck into the trees, then pause for a moment. I glance between Indy and Webb. Their faces are cast in shadows, so all I can see is the glint of their eyes. “Are we ready?” I ask quietly.
Webb lifts his chin at me. “Roger.”
Indy nods. “Let’s do this.”
On a silent exhale, we move again.
Indy and I dart through the woods towards the back of the house. I can’t hear Webb, but I know he’s getting into position just west of us, closer to the front.
The next risky part is leaving the relative safety of the trees and darting across the small stretch of lawn. We’ve already planned out the best route, using satellite images of the property, so it’s only a fifteen-foot dash to the rear wall of the house. Crouching low, we hurry to it, then huddle below the sightline of the windows.
Indy puts his hand up in the hold position for a second.
We wait. And listen. But there’s no indication we’ve been seen. No extra lights clicking on inside or out. No alarmed voices. No sirens. Nothing.
In my ear, Tyler’s voice comes over the tiny comm unit. He’s back at the hotel with Eden and Ace, but he remotely accessed the Wi-Fii for the house so he could check for security. “Still nothing,” he reports. “Not even a video doorbell. The only thing you might have to worry about would be a magnetic motion sensor. But I doubt he has one hooked up to the door.”
