hurts.”
“I’ll help you onto the seat,” he said. He lifted her in his arms.
“Everyone can see up my dress,” she said, squirming in his arms, trying to tug it and the sweatshirt down.
“There’s no one here,” he said.
“I’m never wearing a dress again,” she said.
He liked her determination and gave her credit for attempting to flee. “You look good in it.”
“It’s a designer dress,” she said.
“Whatever it is, it’s nice.”
“My sister bought it for me,” she said.
“You may have to explain why it’s damaged,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Please. She couldn’t care less. She has a closet full of dresses, and this one is four sizes too big for her.”
Her sister was supermodel Marissa Walker. Marissa had been on the cover of some sports magazines in a swimsuit and had traveled the world. Rare for two sisters to have such extraordinarily different talents.
“Are you thinking about sleeping with my sister now?” Kit asked.
He hadn’t been. “Are you thinking about me sleeping with your sister?”
“Don’t be gross.”
Not much about Marissa Walker was gross, but imagining a sibling with a lover was. “You brought it up.”
“I’m trying to figure you out,” she said. She touched the side of his face and then his ear, running her finger down the curve of it.
He turned his head. “Stop that.”
“You’re bruised, and your ear is bleeding,” she said.
His ears were ringing, but they would stop. “I’ll look at it later.”
He helped her onto the bike and then mounted it. It was a short distance to the safe house. He circled the block twice, ensuring he wasn’t followed. The safe house was a temporary holdover for the night. Kit would change hands many times to lose any trail connecting her to her final destination: a supersecret military base. Griffin hadn’t been told the location. From what he’d understood, few knew it existed.
Five more minutes and he could finish this job. Kit was alive, and that was how he would remember her. The beautiful, feisty hacker in the red dress. When he stopped in front of the safe house, he helped Kit off the bike and let her lean on him as they took the stairs to the back door.
Kit removed the sweatshirt and extended her hand to him.
“Keep it,” he said. He didn’t need it and she seemed to be more comfortable having it.
“Thank you,” she said. She knotted the sleeves around her waist.
He knocked once on the door, and it opened a couple of inches. “It is a truth universally acknowledged...” the voice said.
Griffin finished the quote. “...that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”
He guessed Kate had picked the quote. Since she and Connor had married and were starting a family, she believed that their operatives were destined for the same happiness. Griffin had tried to tell her that happiness came in many packages, not all of them involving a spouse and children.
Griffin’s life had been made better by a woman, but most relationships ended with deep unhappiness. Even Beth, whom he had loved with his whole being, had broken his heart when she’d died.
The door opened all the way.
He set Kit across the threshold. “She needs shoes. She has an injury to her foot, and a doctor should look at it.”
The man inside nodded. Griffin didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t know every operative in Connor’s network. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good luck to you,” he said to Kit.
She nodded once, sadly. “Goodbye, brute.”
She didn’t know his name, but by this point, it didn’t matter. It was probably better that she knew nothing about him. He didn’t want her searching for him via the internet and exacting revenge. Griffin sincerely hoped she would realize she was in danger and he had only been trying to help her.
“Don’t be a flight risk,” he said.
She stared at him. “Can you make sure my family is okay?”
It wasn’t part of the job, but he couldn’t say no. “I’ll check in.”
“Will you get me a message if anything is wrong?”
He nodded once. “My boss will know where you are.”
As he returned to his motorcycle, he couldn’t drive away. Leaving her bothered him. He didn’t get emotionally tied to his missions and he felt connected to her. Usually, he didn’t think about people he worked with past the ending of a mission. Emotions had no place in his world.
It was her eyes. They were the most expressive eyes.
He started his bike and then a small detail, one easily overlooked, hit him. A sick feeling swamped him and he instinctively checked his gun.
It suddenly registered that the man who had greeted them at the door had had a tattoo on his neck. A spear tattoo that was a sign of Incognito.
With the press of a button, Griffin sent an alert to Connor to let him know the mission was not going according to plan. Griffin was up the back stairs in seconds. He kicked in the door and rushed inside. They could have slit her throat. Left her for dead. Any horrible ending could have befallen her, and it would be because of his mistake.
An image of Beth flashed to mind, her dead body lying on sterile metal in a morgue, and Griffin fought to control the sadness and anger. Beth’s death was why he didn’t work protective detail. He was best at extractions. He couldn’t keep his wife safe. How would he keep a stranger safe?
“Kit!” he called, panic rising inside him. The panic drove him, sharpening every sense.
Silence. They had already fled the house with her or killed her. He heard a car engine outside.
Griffin cursed his stupidity and raced for his motorcycle. He climbed onto it. A navy sedan was driving down the street, and hanging out of the closed trunk of the car was his sweatshirt.
They had Kit in the trunk of the car. She had to be alive. He wouldn’t accept that she had been killed. Incognito wanted her alive, and they had no way to know if she would cooperate yet. From what he knew of the other victims, it had been several days from the time they went missing to the time their bodies had been found. No explanation given. The West Company suspected they had been punished for not providing the answers Incognito wanted. They had been loyal and had kept their mouths shut about the Locker.
Kit
