His mind was already running ahead, a hundred miles down the highway, pulling up to the cabin with his kids squealing in delight at his arrival, and he almost tripped over Chloe Van Amee. She sat on the front steps, hugging herself.
“Whoa, hey. Sorry.”
She blinked up at him, and he’d have to be blind not to see the glazed expression of shock in her dark eyes.
“Mrs. Van Amee, are you okay?”
She nodded, but it was an obvious lie. Sighing inwardly, Danny postponed his trip for another few minutes and dropped to the step beside her. Yes, he wasn’t her biggest fan, and he especially disliked how little she had to do with her sons, but he couldn’t leave her sitting here like this, alone and in shock. He put an arm around her shoulders. She felt tiny and fragile, Barbie meets china doll.
“It’s over, you know?” he said. “Bryson is safe now. He’s coming home to you and your sons in a couple days.”
“I—I know. I know. He’s okay. In the hospital and he’s…okay.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself and raised shaking hands to cover her face. “I just—what about the men that took him? What happened to them? Are they…still out there somewhere?”
“I don’t know. Would you like me to find out?”
She looked at him, studied him with eyes far too world-weary to belong on the face of a selfish, pampered socialite like Chloe Van Amee. “Is it bad of me to hope they’re dead?”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He gave her a light squeeze then stood. “Lemme make some calls, okay?”
BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA
“We have the final casualty report.”
Gabe turned from the ICU room’s observation window as Quinn approached.
Please, he thought, say all ten tangos are dead. Then he could call Giancarelli with the news and tell Audrey—
Scratch that, he would not tell her anything. It was easier on them both if he just faded away now. But he’d make sure the news got to her that it really was over, that the threat was completely neutralized.
If the threat was neutralized.
He studied Quinn’s impassive expression and swore under his breath. “How many got away?”
“The police reports Harvard hacked into only list nine casualties of the ‘gang fight’. Rorro Salazar’s unaccounted for.”
“No, they have to be wrong. I hit him in the chest. It was a kill shot.”
“They found a Kevlar vest near Jacinto’s body. Bullet still lodged in it.”
“Goddammit.” He looked through the window again. Audrey slept fitfully with her head on Bryson’s bed, his hand gripped in both of hers as if she was afraid to let go of him. “The little shit should be dead.”
“Agreed. The men are packing up to go home, but we can stay a few more days if you want to go after him.”
Tempting.
Very, very tempting.
Except he was exhausted past his limit and so were his men.
And he had to get away from Audrey. The longer he stood here staring at her, the harder it was to leave. He had to put the safe distance of a continent between them before he did something stupid, like beg her to come with him when he knew she wouldn’t.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “No. Everything we have on him says that without Jacinto, he’s not much of a threat. Let’s chalk this up as a win and get the hell out of here.”
Quinn nodded, but hesitated and looked through the window at Audrey and Bryson. “Are you going to say goodbye?”
“No.” Turning away, he fell into step beside Quinn without a backward glance. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, and his chest burned with the pain of it.
It was easier this way.
Quinn stayed silent until they reached the parking lot and climbed into the 4Runner. He started the engine, but then sat there, hands on the wheel, gearshift still in park. Then he turned in his seat and opened his mouth as if to say something.
“Don’t.” Gabe shut his eyes, blocking out the concern so evident in his best friend’s usually stoic expression. “What did you do with Cocodrilo?”
Quinn shut his mouth with a click of his teeth, then gave a resigned sigh. “We handed him over to HumInt, Inc. They’ll make sure he’s passed to the right agency for prosecution.”
“Good. Then let’s get outta here.”
Quinn still didn’t shift into drive. “Gabe, man, you can’t leave her like this without—”
“Just drive.”
…
Audrey felt eyes on her and lifted her head. The observation windows across the room were empty, nobody out in the hallway. She must have been dreaming, caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, because she swore she’d heard Gabe’s voice just a moment ago.