Heavy Artillery Husband. Debra & Regan Webb & Black
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Naturally she saw straight through him. “Standard protocol,” he said, defending the suggestion. “You in the office, me in the field.”
She tossed her head. “I will not let you out of my sight. Our daughter would never forgive me if something happened to you...again.”
“She already thinks I’m dead. I refuse to take the chance of making her an orphan for real. I don’t want her to know anything until this is done.”
She pinned him with a wicked glare. “Were you this melodramatic during official briefings?”
“The lives of my wife and daughter weren’t on the line in my official briefings,” he said, thoroughly exasperated with her insurmountable stubborn streak. “Haven’t you been listening to me?” He’d spent more than twenty years commanding troops, so how was it he had so much trouble with this one woman?
“I have been listening very closely. The only real point you’ve made is that you need my help.”
He scrubbed at the back of his neck. How could he have believed she would listen to reason? He needed help, yes, and he’d count her an excellent ally—from the safety of an office surrounded by armed experts. Putting her in the line of fire was taking an unforgivable chance. Not to mention how keeping her close would be torture. Already her familiar lily-and-sandalwood fragrance seeped into his system, giving him more comfort than he deserved. “You can help me—from a safe distance.”
“Frank, be reasonable. You need someone at your back.”
“Victoria would agree with me,” he countered. As arguments went, it was too weak and they both knew it.
Her gaze sharpened. Her keen mind was working through his protests to the crux of the problem. “You’re holding back a significant factor here. Who is it, Frank? Who’s at the top of Hellfire?”
Furious at himself more than anyone at how he’d been fooled and used, he studied the pattern in the carpeting. He met her gaze, at last. “Kelly Halloran is the top man.”
The blood drained from her face, turning her vibrant golden skin to ash. “Sit down,” he said, moving to catch her. She slumped to the edge of the couch, her shoulders hunching as if she could physically block the news. He understood her reaction.
“Why?” she whispered. She sucked in a breath, eased away from him and tried again. “We’ve known him forever. We know his children. His wife and I were once close friends.” She rubbed her hand over her heart. “They were at our wedding. They brought me flowers when Frankie was born. Our kids played together. He held me when I learned you were...dead.”
All the more reason Frank wanted to see that bastard go down. The few inches of space her retreat created left an icy chill on his skin. “This isn’t a quick, fly-by-night operation. It’s been developing for a long time. So far I haven’t figured out what pushed Halloran over the edge.”
She bit her lip. “You believe he’d willfully hurt our daughter?”
Frank nodded. “The man he is today? Yes. He’d give that order.” He waited for it to dawn on Sophia that their old friend had issued her death order earlier today.
“Oh.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I could be sick.”
He’d felt the same way. “Please don’t ask me to make it easier on him by letting you come with me. This is guaranteed to turn ugly, fast.”
“It’s already ugly,” she said, her voice tight. “Kelly Halloran ordered my execution to scare you into silence,” she mused. “The bastard.” When she met his gaze, her eyes were clear, her determination shining. “You can’t expect me to sit back and watch him run you in circles.”
“If that’s your idea of encouragement, I don’t need any more,” he said.
She spread her palms across her knees. “Talk me through everything you have so far and then I’ll decide if I can best help from a safe distance or right beside you.”
“Now you’re in charge?” He wanted to leap on the idea of having an ally, of having her beside him again. If only they weren’t going up against a man who knew them both all too well.
“One of us should be.” Standing, she crossed the room to her suitcase, pulling out her laptop. “Come on. Catch me up.” She rolled her hand, urging him to fill her in while she plugged in the computer.
He marveled at her resilience. He always had. They’d said “for better or worse” on their wedding day and lived it every day since. Until he’d shut her out. She made a good point. So far, going solo had only netted him one easily replaced shipment of drugs. Hardly enough to snare Halloran or put an end to a system as established as Hellfire.
“All right,” he said at last. “But I won’t be convinced that you should be doing any fieldwork.”
Her mouth curved in a smirk. “You will be.”
Somehow he was afraid she could be right.
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