Page 68 of Hot Pursuit
And she’d put him there.
His own daughter.
His own blood.
Jo closed her eyes tight and shook her head, trying to dispel the image, forcing the picture of Thad in a similar position to stop invading her thoughts yet again that night.
The nightmare.
Then the dream.
Then the nightmare.
Then the dream.
Over and over and over they’d circulated. From Nate to Thad to her father. So many futures in her hands—the ones she wanted and the ones she couldn’t face.
She tore her eyes open, gaze sliding to the clock again.
2:50.
If she didn’t leave soon, she’d be late.
What is it, Jo?
What are you going to do?
2:51.
Sacrifice your father and your best friend for the life you always dreamed of? Stay here, in Nate’s arms, and wake up a free woman and a traitor? Or leave, find Thad, go home, and try your best to forget Nate’s touch, his words? Save your father and your best friend, and sacrifice yourself?
2:52.
Make a decision.
2:53.
Now!
Jo rolled over, leaving no time to second-guess, and eased gently out of Nate’s grasp as he sighed behind her. When she stood from the bed, she glanced down just long enough to see his hand shuffle over the sheets, as though searching for her warm body, for her touch. Jo ripped her gaze away and hobbled in the dark, searching for her bra and underwear hidden in the shadows along the ground. Then for her dress, a mound of fabric along the floor. Another glance at Nate. He was fast asleep, eyes closed, face perfectly relaxed, lips slightly parted. Jo pulled her gown inside out and quietly extricated the thin leggings and long-sleeve shirt sewn into the lining of the material, darting her gaze to the sleeping Fed with every subtle rip. He didn’t move. She balled the dress up, prepared to throw it away as soon as she got outside—there were too many memories soaked into the silk for her to want to lay eyes on it again—and then tugged on her clothes. Her purse was discarded near the door. Jo rushed to grab it and slid the clutch open, revealing the small tablet and handful of electronics she’d stuffed inside. She pulled a flash drive free.
Where is it?
Where would it be?
Jo glanced around the dark hotel room, nothing but the glowing lights of New York to guide her. She went for the most predictable place first—the closet. A small personal safe was hidden inside, requiring a six-digit code. Clicking her tongue, Jo thought of her background check on Nate, all the dates she’d memorized just in case. Most people used predictable passwords—even federal agents weren’t above that vice. A lot of hacking was just knowing what might be hiding in plain sight. She tried his birthday first. No go. Then his mother’s. Fail. Then it hit her, obvious. She typed in his father’s birthday. The safe slid open, revealing a small laptop hidden inside.
Jo knelt in the dark, crossing her legs as she balanced the device on her lap. His agency sign-in required a little more expertise, so she reached into her bag, grabbing a different device, this one a password runner that would shift through the millions of possibilities for her in a matter of minutes—a code she’d specially designed.
Voila, she was in.
Jo strained her neck, peering around the corner, back toward the bed, the sleeping body, and the glaring red light of that damn clock.
3:01.
Shit!
She had to meet Thad in half an hour. The walk uptown alone would take that long. There was no time to sit and read the files, to find the information Nate had teased, to understand exactly what Thad and her father were truly up to, how involved in the Russian mafia they were. But maybe she’d known that all along. Maybe that was why it had taken so long to drag herself out of bed. Just another excuse to delay the inevitable.
