Page 78 of Relentless Hearts
When Cal walked in, their eyes met. Decker took in his appearance.
Jeans, heavy coat. Boots. Not strapped with any weapon he could see. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t packing.
If this man had laid one finger on Willow…
He pushed out a hot breath through his nose, forcing himself to calm down.
He gave Cal a simple nod of acknowledgment—man to man, veteran to veteran. Cal returned it and disappeared into the back room without a word.
Every muscle in Decker’s body wanted to follow him, to slam him against the wall and demand answers. But they needed confirmation first, needed to know where Willow was before they tipped their hand.
When Cal emerged again, Decker could see the subtle shift.
Twisting toward a shelf, Decker murmured into his comms. “He’s nervous.”
“Keep on him,” came Carson’s reply.
Decker pivoted to keep Cal in his peripheral vision, noting the way his eyes darted to the exits and the tension in his shoulders.
Keep it normal. Keep it friendly.
Decker gestured to the display by the register. “That honey any good?”
“It’s fine,” Cal said roughly, already moving away.
Decker grabbed a bag of chicken feed, maintaining the ruse. Through his earpiece, came Carson’s directive. “Ask him about something else. Keep him talking. Keep him away from the windows.”
“You work here long?” Decker called out.
“Long enough.” Cal started toward the back room again.
“Appreciate you helping Willow out the other day when we were picking up feed. She mentioned how nice it was that you loaded the truck for her.”
Cal froze for just a fraction of a second. “Yeah. No problem.”
Then he was gone into the back room, the door closing behind him with a softwhoosh.
The owner watched the exchange without a word, his face pale.
Decker paid for the feed they didn’t need and walked out slowly, deliberately. Across the parking lot, his gaze landed on Cal’s old truck and saw the brief flash of movement as Carson walked away.
The tracker had been placed.
Decker kept an eye out for Cal, but he seemed to be hiding in the store. When he slipped into the truck beside Carson, he whipped around to face his team leader.
“I can get the son of a bitch talkin’,” he growled.
“No. We need to know where Willow’s at first. We’re playing the long game here, Dutch.”
His use of his nickname was a hook to the SEAL inside him. An unspoken command he had no choice but to obey even if he didn’t already know it was for Willow’s safety.
He leaned forward, head in his hands. “I know he has her,” he groaned. “I want to kill the fucker.”
“We need to get Willow back first.” Not for the first time, Decker picked up the slight tremor in Carson’s voice when he spoke about his sister.
She’d only told him bits and pieces about her parents, but Decker knew that the kids only had each other to rely on, and it showed. The Malone family was as tight as any family he’d ever seen. The siblings stuck together through thick and thin.
Carson drove to a parking lot down the street from the feed store and parked in a far corner, next to Theo, both their enginesidling. Carson brought the binoculars up again, watching Cal’s vehicle from a distance where Cal wouldn’t notice if he looked outside.
