Worth the Risk (Book 3, Wolff Securities Series) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Afterword

  Also by Jennifer Lowery

  About the Author

  Worth the Risk

  Wolff Securities Book 3

  Jennifer Lowery

  Copyright © 2018 by Jennifer Lowery

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Jennifer Lowery

  About the Author

  For my readers who have stood patiently by me as I struggle to write this series. The Wolff brothers are a tight-lipped bunch and have given me plenty of sleepless nights, lol. This book was no exception.

  1

  Cedar Falls, Michigan

  “One of the FBI’s top ten most wanted terrorist’s, Ramil Diakameli, was killed…”

  Kell Wolff didn’t hear the rest of the sentence spoken by a national news anchor past the sudden ringing in his ears. Stunned, he sat back in his chair. The bastard responsible for his brother’s death had been eliminated.

  And not by one of the Wolff brothers. By a team of operators who did that sort of thing for a living.

  Emotions warred inside him. Anger, relief, grief. None of which he wanted to deal with right now.

  He leapt to his feet and strode to the door where his running shoes sat. Minutes later he was pounding the trails through the woods behind his house. Letting physical exercise replace the images of his brother bleeding out from a bullet wound to the chest. Of Quinn trying to save Ryan’s life even when hope had fled.

  His parents flashed through his head. His dad, tall and strong, an anchor as he held their mom who collapsed when she got the news that her youngest son had been killed. The tears streaming down his sister, Bailey’s, face. Chris punching the hood of his beloved classic car. Evan, stoic as always, showing up with bruises on his face days later. And still gaining new ones without explanation. The text from his ex, Shea Morrissey, offering condolences over his loss.

  Pushing himself harder he tried to outrun his demons. Pushed until his legs nearly gave out and his lungs burned. Only then did he turn back toward home.

  His cell phone vibrated on the table when he walked in. He didn’t have to look to know his brothers had called. No doubt trying to get a handle on this the same as him. At the moment, he didn’t feel like talking. The run had cooled his emotions some, but he was still wound tight.

  The phone went quiet then started up again. Gritting his teeth, he snatched it off the table. Missed calls from Quinn, Nate, Evan and Chris. One from his dad. And an encrypted text message.

  With a frown, he opened the message. “Kell. I’m in trouble.”

  The SOS was from Shea. Kell’s mind reeled. What were the odds Shea would ask for his help. And, on the day the news reported the death of Diakameli. A man they both wanted dead.

  Better yet, why would Shea send the SOS to him? They had a brief, hot and heavy history which ended in her walking away without so much as a goodbye. And she never looked back. That had been four years ago. There had been little to no contact since. Granted, Shea had been instrumental in the rescue of Avery and Macy, but that had been mostly through his brothers. They had kept him out of the loop as much as they could. To protect his feelings, which pissed him off to no end. He didn’t need protecting. They were the ones who did the protecting.

  The woman might have ripped his heart out of his chest on her way out the door, but if Shea went to lengths to contact him then she truly needed help. Which meant whatever had gone wrong was serious.

  Another text came through. Encrypted like the last one. Almost as if they had been scheduled. His gut churned. Something was very, very wrong.

  This text gave coordinates in longitude and latitude. Christ, she was in Azbakastan. In the tribal territories where wars had been raging for decades. What the hell was she doing there? Last he knew there wasn’t a U.S. embassy in those territories.

  Not to mention the riots that were no doubt beginning over the death of Diakameli. The assassination of a leader that powerful would spawn wars the country never dreamed of. Backlash would be catastrophic.

  And Shea was right in the middle of it.

  Good God. What had she gotten herself into? The woman just didn’t know when to quit. Like a dog with a bone, she stayed on something until the very end. Often to the consternation of her bosses. In truth, he was surprised she still had a job. But, Shea was good at what she did. Incredibly good. She had instincts like no other. Impressed the hell out of him when he watched her work.

  His phone vibrated again. This one an encrypted video file. He opened it and a small apartment came into view. Classy, a little romantic, cluttered. Movement, then Shea came into view, sitting in front of the camera. Her auburn hair was pulled back in her signature messy ponytail, no makeup, yet she still took his breath away. Her intelligent green eyes trapped him like always, holding him hostage.

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out before starting to talk. “If you’re watching this then I’m dead.”

  Like a punch to the chest, Kell’s breath left his body in a rush. He dropped down into a chair to finish watching.

  Shea stared through the lens directly at him. “Kell,” she said, a slight hitch in her voice. “I made this for your eyes only. My official last words are in my CIA file.” She shifted in her chair, wrung her hands together. Tells she normally didn’t show. When she looked back up at the camera there were tears glistening on her lashes. Her next words knocked the floor out from beneath him.

  “Four years ago I lost your baby. She was a result of our weekend toget
her in Bahodir.” She looked down, then back up. “I knew that weekend we’d made a child together. Don’t ask me how, I just knew. And I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t process my feelings for you, being pregnant, any of it. So, I ran. Away from you. Away from myself.”

  Kell paused the video, tried to catch his breath. Shea had just dropped a bomb and it nearly annihilated him. A baby. She’d gotten pregnant.

  Their baby.

  Fuck.

  Unable to process, he played the video with a shaky hand.

  “Four months later, Ramil Diakameli’s army bombed a local tourist cafe. My younger sister was there with a couple of her college friends celebrating passing their finals. The bomb killed her and her friends and nearly everyone else in the restaurant. I was stationed at the embassy in Bil at the time.”

  Shea drew in a shaky breath. So unlike her. He’d seen her in action. She didn’t waver.

  “I had to identify my sister by the tattoo on her wrist. A celtic trinity knot she’d gotten on her twenty-first birthday as a celebration of our Irish heritage. The same one I have on my hip. But you already know that.” Shea’s breath caught. She reached up and paused the video.

  When it came back on she had pulled herself together, looking more like the Shea he knew. Strong, intelligent, tenacious and beautiful.

  “My sister’s death sent me into a tailspin and I lost our baby. I’m sorry, Kell. I tried to save her, but I couldn’t. I lost my only family and our baby in the same month. I buried myself in my work, hunting the bastard who destroyed my life. I hope I finished my mission by time you watch this.” She stared directly into the camera. “I’m sorry you had to watch this. Learn about our baby this way, but I never could find the courage to tell you. I couldn’t say it out loud or it became real. Now, it’s real. And, I’m sorry. I only hope you can forgive me.” She reached up to stop the video, but paused, her face close to the screen so he could see the smoothness of her skin. In a whisper she said, “I love you, Kell.”

  Then the video ended and this time it didn’t come back on. Thoughts raced through his head as he tried to connect the dots. First, a news report that Diakameli had been assassinated. Then, a text from Shea saying she needed help. Followed by coordinates in a very dangerous area. Lastly, a last words video. Each text came in exactly four minutes apart which felt scheduled. Like Shea had set them to send at a certain time on a certain day. But, today? And a death video?

  The dots refused to connect. Why would Shea send a distress signal and minutes later a death video? Was she even the one who sent them?

  Kell lunged from his chair, scrubbing a hand down his face. What the fuck was going on? Nothing made sense. Shea couldn’t be gone. The woman had nine lives. Nothing bested her.

  Christ. His world had been demolished and he had no idea how to process it.

  A baby.

  Diakameli dead.

  Shea gone.

  Kell clenched his jaw, strode into his bedroom. With jerky movements he replaced his running pants and sweaty shirt for a pair of jeans and t-shirt, his sneakers for boots. His go-bag sat on the floor next to the door and he grabbed it on his way out. Within seconds he was out the door and in his H2, speeding down the driveway. He didn’t call his brothers. Didn’t stop for gas. Simply drove straight to the airport.

  There was only one way to make sense of this.

  Find Shea.

  2

  Cedar Falls, Michigan

  “Where the hell is Kell?”

  Quinn Wolff braced his hands on the table in the War Room of Wolff Securities. His gut still churned after seeing the news of Diakameli’s assassination. Part of him was relieved the bastard was dead. The other part wished it had been by his hand. Vengeance still powered through his blood.

  “I tried his cell three times. No answer,” Nate said through clenched jaw. They were all on edge, trying to process the execution of the terrorist responsible for the death of their youngest brother.

  “Did anyone stop by his place?”

  “I did,” Chris said. “His H2 was gone.”

  “And no-one has heard from him since yesterday?” Quinn pinned his brothers with a hard stare. They each shook their head in response.

  “I swear to God I’m going to put a tether on him.” Quinn gritted his teeth. Kell had a tendency to disappear for days on end. Usually so he could go off and be with nature doing something stupidly dangerous like free-climbing, base jumping or whitewater rafting on a grade six river in between jobs. Downtime for Kell meant risking his life for fun. And right now it pissed Quinn off to no end.

  “All right. Damage control. Mom and Dad have no doubt watched the news by now. We’ll head over there after this. Anyone talked to Bailey?”

  “She’s already over at Mom and Dad’s,” Evan said. “I talked to her this morning.”

  Quinn nodded. “Dani?”

  “I’m heading over there next.” Nate said. “Macy is already there.”

  “Good. Avery is on her way to Mom and Dad’s, too.” Quinn didn’t add that he’d had to catch Avery when her legs gave out after hearing the news that the man responsible for her kidnapping and torture was dead.

  Hell, the news impacted all of them like a punch to the gut. Knocked the breath out of you and left you gasping for air, not sure how to react.

  “We continue to take turns keeping an eye on Mom and Dad and the women. This is going to have slow-acting effects.”

  “We can’t assume it’s over,” Nate pointed out. “Diakameli was just a wrung on the ladder. Another will replace him.”

  “Right. Just be extra vigilant, okay? Diakameli’s reach was a long one.”

  They discussed business for a few minutes then broke off to go take care of the family. News this diabolical warranted a family gathering. Even if they couldn’t find Kell.

  Quinn lingered for a few minutes after his brothers had gone. He sat in one of the chairs and stared at the wall of monitors. Images of Ryan, blood pouring out of a bullet wound in his chest, flashed through his head. His own hands covered in blood as he tried to save his brother’s life. Kell tackling him when he refused to give up his life saving techniques. He was a pararescueman. So that others may live was their motto. He saved lives for a living. In the Air Force and as a Wolff Securities operator.

  He hadn’t been able to save his brother’s life though. And the need for vengeance that had consumed him ever since didn’t just go away because Diakameli had been dispatched. Although it felt damn good knowing the bastard was dead.

  Maybe now Avery could sleep through the night. Maybe now they both could.

  He rose to his feet. To the empty room he said, “We got this, bro.” Then walked out to take care of his family.

  Chorieva, Azbakastan

  Kell tossed his duffle in the back of a rusted, piece of junk, car he’d overpaid for. The Azabak man he’d bought it from took the money as a vow of silence as well as to feed his family. Kell couldn’t risk anyone knowing he was in country. Not until he knew what was going on with Shea. He refused to believe she was gone.

  He brought the tired engine to life, revved it a few times, and pulled out of the alley onto the street to mix in with the slow moving traffic. It would take him a couple days to reach the coordinates Shea had sent him. The tribal areas were unstable and dangerous for tourists, but some still risked it to explore ancient mosques and mausoleums linked to the Silk Road—an ancient trade route between China and the Mediterranean. Rumor had it the road was still being used, but not for trade. For human trafficking. A lucrative business in the middle east. Hell, lucrative all over the world.

  His hand wrapped tighter around the steering wheel. The events leading to Ryan’s death had been linked to trafficking. As well as the kidnap and torture of Quinn’s wife, Avery, and her best friend, Macy. Avery was well on her way to recovery, but Macy still refused to admit what happened to her had changed her. Nate, with the patience of a saint, stood by her side, letting her come to terms with what happened
at her own pace. But Kell saw the toll it took on his brother. Nate wanted to make it all better, help her, but Macy was a stubborn creature. Even his mom’s nurturing hadn’t gotten through the wall Macy had put up. If anyone could get through to her it was Nate. He’d wait until the end of time if that’s what it took to heal Macy.

  Kell admired his brother’s patience. If it were him he’d be jumping out of his skin. Helpless wasn’t something he handled very well. He wanted things fixed now.

  The traffic came to a stand-still and he thumped the steering wheel impatiently. Once he was out of the city he’d be able to move faster. Right now, all he could do was wait.

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Darkness. All around her. Consuming.

  Shea Morrissey didn’t try to move. She knew she couldn’t. They had strapped her down so tightly her limbs had gone numb.

  She tried to count the days but without windows or light it proved difficult. She had managed to scratch a couple marks on the metal slab she lie on. One for each time the door opened and another interrogator came in. In those brief moments of light she saw a hallway, two men standing guard and a cement wall. Nothing else to distinguish where she was. The room felt hollow, empty. Smelled like antiseptic. And blood. Some hers. Some from victims before her.

  The men that came in kept their heads covered, but their accents gave them away. Azabak. They would use lanterns when they came in. To keep her off balance. Sometimes they asked her questions. Random, off the wall questions they knew she could answer. Then, during the times they got angry, they would interrogate her. Asking her about who she worked for, what was her purpose in their country, what role did she play in the assassination of Ramil Diakameli. When she refused to tell them what they wanted to know they would use brutal interrogation techniques to get the answers. Anything she’d endured on the Farm during interrogation training didn’t compare to what they had done to her in this room.