Page 37 of Avenging Jessie
“We need to know what they’re doing in there. Before sunrise. Before Berlin.”
Spence stared through the windshield, tension coiling like wire in his gut. “The first thing you’re going to do is call Tessa like we discussed.”
“And what are you going to do? Play with your tech for the next hour because you’re afraid to act like a field agent and actually shut this down now?”
The barb dug deep. He’d thought they’d made progress, but here they were again. She was ready to charge into a situation without knowing what that situation even was.
“I’m going to do what a good leader does—come up with a plan to breach the databank.” He handed her her burner phone, smacking it into her palm when she accepted it. “And you’re either going to cooperate and do this my way, or you’re going to end up zip-tied and in the trunk. I’ll breach alone. Your call, Agent Medoza.”
Fifteen
Jessie
Jessie’s fingerscurled into her palms until her nails bit flesh.
Zip-tied and in the trunk?
He’d said it without blinking, voice cold enough to frost the windows. Not in jest, not as some flirty jab—he’d meant it. She’d seen the steel in his eyes, heard it in his voice.
The kiss was far away now. The connection they’d shared had snapped.
Her pride flared, hot and ugly, and underneath it came something heavier. Something she didn’t want to name. A burr inside her chest, pricking and ripping at her heart. She tried to laugh, to brush it off, but the sound died in her throat.
He thought she was a liability.Maybe he’s right.
Because as much as she wanted to tell herself she was still the same operative who’d bled and fought and survived alongside the rest of the swans, she wasn’t.
She couldn’t go back to being that agent ever again.
Not after Mosai Hagar’s death squad had dragged her across concrete floors. Not after Brewer had leaned in close and told her in detail precisely what he would do to Tommy if she didn’t do what he wanted. Not after she’d swallowed every ounce of fear she’d had and played the traitor to protect her brother.
That kind of betrayal—being used as a weapon against the people you’d die to protect—it didn’t simply scrape at the surface of who you thought you were. It gutted you and left your morals and ethics on the ground to be stomped on.
And now?
She couldn’t take orders without questioning the motive behind them. Couldn’t follow a leader without calculating the odds of them stabbing her in the back. Couldn’t be the swan she’d once been.
Maybe Spence saw that. Maybe since she’d returned, he’dalwaysseen it.
Her pulse thumped hard. She gripped the door handle, not to get out, but to keep from doing something stupid—like slapping him just to make the hurt stop.
She turned to him, the glow from his laptop cutting sharp lines across his face. As always, he was calm and controlled. Already running ten mental scenarios while she was still chewing on the fact that he’d threatened to restrain her.
“Your way,” she said, the words tasting like ashes on her tongue, “is to sit in the car and play with satellites while the bastards we’re hunting waltz out with the keys to the apocalypse.”
His hands stayed loose on the laptop, but his gaze was direct when it slid to hers. “My way is to keep us alive long enough to stop them. You want to rush in blind, go ahead—but you’ll do it without me, and without the cover you’ll need to get out.”
That was the thing about Spence—he didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. Every syllable smacked into her like a suppressed round.
She should’ve backed down. Should’ve played along until she could talk him into moving. That was the smart move.
Instead, her jaw locked. “I’ve been in tighter spots with less intel and walked out just fine.”
“Not with Brewer on the other side of the door,” he said. “He knows you. Knows your instincts. He and Hastings are counting on you to be predictable.”
Dammit. She hated that he was right. Hated it so much she wanted to break something.
She also wanted to prove him wrong.Neededto prove him wrong.
