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

  She wasn’t an impulse buyer by nature, but something made her pick up one of the magazines and open it. Beautiful pictures of brides and bridesmaids in gorgeous dresses jumped out at her.

  Avery quickly closed it. What was she doing? She wasn’t a girly girl. Didn’t do frilly or pink or glitter and glam. It felt like a betrayal to her work. Why should she have a big, beautiful wedding when so many women around the world suffered? It just didn’t feel right. Or fair.

  Yet, the girl in her that dreamed of a big wedding and handsome groom tore her way to the top, begging to be let out. What girl didn’t dream of the perfect wedding day? It was like a right of passage. And, if she were to let herself admit it, Avery wanted it all.

  She’d even had dreams about her and Quinn’s big day. Not that she would share that with anyone. She was in transition between what happened to her in Azbakastan and her new life. Talking to Dr. Elaine Lewis helped, but she wasn’t there yet. There was still so much she had to face. They’d barely scratched the surface of the torture she endured for three days in Azbakastan. They were getting close. Avery felt it bubbling inside her like a volcano. Ready to explode.

  She feared that moment when it all came crashing down. When she had to say it out loud.

  She hastily put the magazine back in the rack, her thoughts running into each other. How could she think of a wedding when she couldn’t get the past out of her head?

  Someone bumped her arm. She looked down to see a middle aged woman with pretty gray hair pick up the bridal magazine Avery had just put back.

  The woman opened it up to the very same page Avery had been looking at. The one with the gorgeous dress.

  “This would look beautiful on you,” the woman said.

  The line moved and Avery pushed her cart forward a few inches. “Oh, no, I was only looking.”

  The woman glanced at her hand, saw the engagement ring. She put the magazine back and patted Avery’s hand. “One of my favorite poets once wrote, “Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”

  Avery smiled. “Maya Angelou.”

  The woman returned her smile. “You know your poets.”

  It was Avery’s turn to check out. The woman stepped back behind her own cart and said, “Congratulations on the engagement.”

  Thanking her, Avery put her items on the belt, the quote running through her head. How this woman had known what a perfect quote that was for her and Quinn was beyond her. They had definitely jumped hurdles, leapt fences and penetrated walls before ending up here. In fact, they’d been through hell.

  Didn’t she deserve a happy ending?

  On impulse, she grabbed the magazine and put it on the belt, not noticing the woman’s knowing smile behind her.

  Macy looked around the therapist’s office, uncomfortable. Not because the room was uncomfortable, but because she didn’t really want to be there. The office, in fact, was very comfortable with it’s modern, muted colors, welcoming decor and soft light.

  Even the woman sitting in the chair across from her had friendly vibes coming off her. Dr. Elaine Lewis, Psy.D; Doctor of Psychology. At least that’s what the gold plate on the door said.

  The doctor crossed her legs, resting a pad of paper on her lap. “Before we start, do you have any questions for me?”

  Macy shook her head.

  “All right. Why don’t we start by you telling me why you’re here?”

  Macy clasped her hands in her lap, staring down at them. Did she really have to do this? Talking about personal things wasn’t her strong point. She’d rather convince herself everything was fine and move on.

  “Macy?”

  She lifted her gaze to meet the doctor’s gentle brown eyes. “Sorry. I, uh, told Nate I’d come talk to you.”

  “And Nate is?”

  “My fiancé.”

  Elaine nodded, wrote on her pad with an elegant gold pen. “How long have you been engaged?”

  “Six weeks.”

  No reaction from the doctor. She was as well schooled as the Wolff brothers, who were very good at hiding what they were feeling.

  “Have you set a wedding date yet?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Did she really want to talk about her and Nate’s engagement? That wasn’t why Macy had come. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. Can we talk about something else?”

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  Macy drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “My friend Avery recommended you. She said you specialized in PTSD.”

  Elaine nodded. “That’s correct.”

  Macy had been hoping that would open the door and the doctor would start asking her questions, not waiting for her to begin the conversation. Wasn’t that what a therapist did? Asked the right questions to get you to open up?

  They sat in silence for a couple heartbeats then Elaine said, “Tell me about your work. What do you do?”

  Ah. An open door. Thank you. “I’m an assistant to the owner and founder of Books for Change, a non-profit humanitarian aid organization.” Macy stared down at her hands again, her chest already starting to tighten up. “Well, I was. We’re kind of in limbo right now.”

  “Why is that?”

  Straight to it then. All right. “Our convoy was attacked in Azbakastan. We lost four good aid workers.”

  Elaine nodded, writing on her pad. “Attacked how?”

  Macy swallowed. “By an army called IPA. Islamic party of Azbakastan. They didn’t like us teaching their women and children to read.”

  “Sounds like a dangerous job.”

  Understatement of the year. “Yes. But, we all knew what we signed on for. The benefits outweighed the risks.”

  “You’re a brave woman.”

  Macy shook her head. She didn’t feel brave. In fact, she felt smaller and weaker than ever. She didn’t sleep, barely ate. And with Ellen Wolff cooking big family meals and wonderful desserts in which she brought over all the time, hiding her lack of appetite proved difficult. She loved Nate’s mom. She had a heart of gold, a gentle soul with the voice of a warrior. Actually, she loved the entire Wolff clan. Each brother had their own quirks and that only made them more lovable. How lucky was she that Nate had been he one to rescue her?

  “Where did you go just now?” Elaine asked when Macy realized she’d gotten lost in her thoughts.

  The room was starting to feel like it was closing in on her. The air felt thick, hard to breathe. Her heart rate increased. Panic rose in her chest.

  Macy shot to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her purse. “I can’t do this.”

  She ran from the room, leaving the door open behind her.

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Shea opened her eyes to bright sunlight shining through the window. Annoyingly sunny considering what was happening in the streets.

  She rolled onto her back and groaned as her body protested. Her muscles felt like she’d put them through the most intense workout possible. The bandage on her wrist was damp with whatever concoction Alsu had put on her wound. It didn’t hurt though. Felt stiff and a bit angry, but no pain. The concoction was working. Not that she’d expected anything different. Alsu knew what she was doing when it came to ancient remedies. Shea didn’t question, just let the woman administer to her.

  She should get out of bed, find Kell, put together a plan, but she still felt tired. Like she hadn’t slept at all.

  Images of dead bodies flashed through her head, driving her out of bed. Her ankle was better, not so tender. She could walk on it without limping. Good. In case they needed to run she’d need both her legs working.

  She changed quickly into a pair of jeans and fitted t-shirt before heading downstairs. Kell was already in the kitchen sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. Alsu stood at the counter, chopping vegetables for omelets. Shea didn’t have a clue how to cook, but she could manage eggs and h
ad showed Alsu how to make an omelet. How hard was it to whip some eggs in a bowl, add some veggies and cheese and cook it?

  Kell looked primed and ready to go. Restless, almost. She knew he didn’t like to be caged in for long. He needed fresh air, exercise, or he wasn’t right. He’d shown her pictures on his phone during their weekend in Bahodir of the extreme sports he participated in. Not only did the man have a dangerous job, his hobbies were just as daring. She’d wondered more than once what he did for downtime. Or, was he like her and didn’t need downtime. Preferred to work or stay busy to avoid thinking about things that grieved you. God knows, she didn’t need to think about those things. All they did was cause her pain.

  “Morning,” Kell said, rising to his feet. He looked particularly handsome in the dark blue cargo pants and white shirt Alsu had found for him. She tried not to let her gaze linger on his broad chest or narrow waist. She already knew the man had a rock hard body.

  Oh, boy. Time to reel in her thoughts. This wasn’t the best way to start the day. Sex was off the table. Forever. After losing the baby she wouldn’t risk it happening again. And if she didn’t put a tight lid on her hormones that’s exactly what would happen. The man was simply irresistible.

  “Want a cup of coffee?” he asked, striding to the coffee pot and pulling a second cup out of the cupboard. Almost as if he’d done it a hundred times before. Teahouses were more popular in this country than coffee houses, but coffee beans were readily available. Most of the time. Sometimes she had to travel for miles for a bag of beans.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Good morning, Alsu.”

  Alsu raised her knife in acknowledgment then went back to choosing veggies. Shea knew better than to interrupt her when she was cooking. Alsu took her duties very seriously. And Shea ate like a queen because of it. She’d acquired a taste for Azabak cuisine during her time here. Not overly spicy but flavored with peppers, coriander and cinnamon. Everything was freshly made. Not a lot of canned or boxed food. Mostly, what could be hunted, picked, fished or traded. Most of all, she loved their breads. Big, round disks that tasted heavenly.

  Kell poured her a cup of coffee and brought it over to her. She accepted it, wrapping both hands around the mug and inhaling the rich scent. She loved her tea, but sometimes coffee just hit the spot.

  They sat at the table. A surreal feeling came over her. This all seemed too…normal. Having coffee with the man she’d once thought herself in love with, the delicious scents of fresh cuts vegetables hanging in the air. As if there weren’t wars raging outside the door.

  She sobered. This wasn’t her reality. Breakfast and coffee with an overnight guest didn’t happen. Kell was the only one-night-stand she’d ever had. Well, weekend-long-stand. He was definitely the first man to ever spend the night in her safe house.

  Pushing back the part of her that longed for this to be real, to have a normal life where couples woke up and had coffee together over the morning paper with fresh fruit and toast. She’d given up on those dreams a long time ago and she didn’t regret it. Her work had saved many lives and she wouldn’t trade that for anything.

  Making the world a safer place used to be enough. Now, she wondered if she’d made any impact at all. Especially knowing the higher-ups in The Company were on the wrong side of the line.

  Bitterness crept through her. She’d been so stupid. Never put the pieces together. And they were there. As she looked back she saw them. The roadblocks, the suggestions, the walls she hit. How did she miss them? Maybe, if she’d seen them sooner Kell wouldn’t be here risking his life to save her. He’d already lost one brother, she couldn’t handle being responsible for the death of another Wolff brother.

  The thought knifed through her heart. She forced it away, refusing to think about losing Kell.

  “What kind of weapons do you have here?” Kell asked, distracting her from her disastrous thoughts.

  She sent him a slow smile. “Follow me.”

  18

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Kell stared at the walls of weapons in front of him. He’d expected Shea to have a stockpile, but not this. This was incredible. Everything from handguns to automatic weapons. Knives of different sizes, hand grenades, flash bombs, and a freaking SAM.

  “You asked,” Shea said, stepping up next to him, her arm brushing his.

  “I’m not even going to ask where you got this stuff.”

  “Better if you don’t.”

  He walked over to the far wall and lifted a Glock 17 off the pegs. Standard issue for Delta operators. One of them, anyway. It felt like an old friend in his hand. Comfortable. An extension of his hand.

  Shea moved into the room, started pulling out drawers. “Ammo.”

  He glanced over his shoulder to see a stockpile of ammo for every weapon. Had to admit, he felt a lot better now that he had weapons.

  Kell put the Glock back in it’s place. “We need to talk.”

  He saw the flash of vulnerability in Shea’s eyes before she masked it.

  “Yes. We need to make a plan.”

  “After breakfast.”

  They retuned to the kitchen where Alsu had set the table with fresh fruit and omelets. She busied herself cleaning up while Kell and Shea ate.

  Kell sensed a tension in Shea. He didn’t want to talk about the baby. That was a discussion for another day. When they weren’t in danger. What he needed to know was who the hell left Shea to die and why.

  Eventually, he would get all the answers he needed. For now, they had a mob of haters to avoid.

  When they finished eating in silence, Alsu cleared their dishes, put them in the dishwasher and left them alone to talk.

  Kell decided to start with his arrival. Not the texts. That would lead to roads he chose not to go down. Yet.

  “You’re house was tossed,” he said, watching her for a reaction. He knew to watch close because Shea had been trained to lie. “By a man named Dan Peters. The same man who claimed you were dead.”

  No reaction. She already knew it.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  She took a sip of her coffee and set the mug down, her hands wrapped around it. “Dan Peters is my boss. The Deputy Director for Operations.”

  “That’s his real name?”

  “Sadly, yes. Sounds like an alias, doesn’t it?”

  Kell nodded, sipping his own coffee. He’d known the man was high up on the food chain, but the DO? That, he hadn’t seen coming. Paper pushers usually stayed behind closed doors, ferreting out duties. The fact the man was in the field, personally overseeing the collection of classified materials from one of his agents and spreading news of that agent’s death didn’t settle well. Something much bigger was going on here. And Shea was in the center of it all.

  “I can’t share classified information,” Shea said.

  “I’m aware of that. But, this man claimed you were dead. Tossed your house. In person.” Kell set his mug down and pinned Shea with a hard stare. “There’s only one way he could know that.”

  Shea hesitated, probably running scenarios through her head. “This is bigger than just my DO.”

  “I guessed that much. What’s going on, Shea? I found you bleeding to death in a maze of underground tunnels.”

  That got her attention. “That’s where I was? Underground?”

  “Yes. And you weren’t easy to find. In fact, if you hadn’t told me where you were I never would have found you in time.”

  Her brows drew together. “I spoke to you?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “What do you remember?”

  Her eyes shuttered. He didn’t want to drag up what had happened to her but he needed to know if he was going to help.

  “Doesn’t matter what I remember,” she said. “More importantly, what’s our next step?”

  “We need to form a plan to get out of this country. It’s not safe here for either of us.”

  Shea met his gaze. “I
can’t leave.”

  Shea didn’t expect her refusal to go over well. Kell had no idea what they were up against and no way would she put his life in danger just to save her. She didn’t need saving.

  In a controlled voice, Kell asked, “Why the hell not?”

  “The CIA blacklisted me. And now they think I’m dead. By now Dan has put the word out, trashed my reputation, most likely told a bunch of lies to prevent anyone from mourning my death.” She paused, sipped her coffee. “But, Dan knows, or will know soon, that I’m not dead and he’s going to come after me. He can’t risk me finding proof that he’s a double agent.”

  Kell scrubbed a hand down his face. “So not only are we on the run for our lives against the IPA, we’re on the run from the goddamn CIA.”

  Shea nodded. Let her words sink in. Escaping this country would be difficult at best because of the wars. It would be nearly impossible with the CIA hunting them. Dan’s reach was a long one. And now that he’d burned her, even if she tried to connect with old friends from The Agency, they would turn their back on her. See her as a traitor. Turn her in.

  “What exactly did you do to earn this burn notice?”

  “What I always do. Ignore authority. Go my own way, over, under and through walls to get what I wanted. In this case, Ramil Diakameli. Dan was in bed with him. To what extent, I don’t know. All I know is Dan put up every roadblock possible to stop me from hunting Diakameli and I didn’t listen.”

  To his credit, Kell took the news of a dirty CIA agent pretty well. Wasn’t every day you learned the paper pushers of the agency put in place to protect Americans had double agents. She still could barely wrap her head around it.

  Kell cursed, low and harsh. “So you need to go to ground. And, fast.”

  She nodded. “They know about this place, so yeah. This will be the first place they look once they discover I escaped.”

  “Then we need to get the hell out of here. Does Alsu have family she can stay with?”