“I’m not an idiot,” Ana went on, “I was not conned again.” A.J. saw the tears from past betrayals on the brink of spilling over, but she was fighting to stay strong. And he hoped like hell the bomb Roman had just dropped in her lap wouldn’t prove to be true. “Porter is not setting me up. There has to be another explanation that makes more sense.”
“Sometimes it takes someone on the outside to help with objectivity,” Roman added, and A.J. was well aware the statement was also meant for him. He was obviously still worried about A.J.’s unwavering support of Ana.
Ana held a hand in the air like a shield, fending off further disappointment. “Porter wasn’t one of the first agents on scene that day.”
“According to Porter he wasn’t the first on scene. What if he conveniently gave you the name of someone who died to protect you from finding out the truth,” Roman insisted, playing devil’s advocate. “Maybe Porter even fired the fatal shots?”
“Get the footage fixed from that night. It’ll prove his innocence, I’m sure.” Ana’s voice trembled. “Please,” she croaked out. “And if you really want to help, we need to make sure the forger shows up at the safe house Friday. It’s my way in with Grigory Volkov.”
“But, Ana, what if the man in Porter’s house that night was a Volkov agent, and he knows you’re undercover?” A.J. asked.
Ana dragged her hands down her face. “Shit, I don’t know what to think.”
“Let’s handle one issue at a time. Based on your last conversation with Grigory, it didn’t seem like he suspected you’re undercover, correct?” Harper came to Ana’s rescue as the voice of reason.
“Not from what I could tell,” Ana replied.
“Let’s get to the safe house and scope the place out. Get a lay of the land.” Roman grabbed a pen, preparing to write down the address. “What’s the location?” Ana offered the address of a cabin in Carrollton. “I’ll send Chris and Finn over to do some recon. It’s not that far from the Alabama-Georgia border.”
“Thank you.” Ana’s hands went to her bare arms, and she smoothed her palms up and down in a comforting motion. “What about The Huntsman’s location? The missing sources? Or you know, pick a problem and answer.” A hint of a smile brushed across her lips.
“Still working on The Huntsman’s location, but I think we can draw him out to the safe house in Carrollton. Kill two birds with one stone. Find out where he stashed the sources, if they’re still alive, and who hired him,” Harper suggested, and the blood drained from A.J.’s face.
“And put Ana in even more danger?” A.J. spoke through gritted teeth. He couldn’t handle much more conversation that resulted in further jeopardizing her safety.
“You promised to help no matter what,” Ana reminded him, her eyes thinning.
Shit. This was not going to be easy.
“The longer we drag this out, the worse it will get,” Harper said. “And I know what you’re thinking, A.J., but she’ll have us outside that cabin. We won’t let Ivan, or anyone for that matter, hurt her. And keep in mind, she’s a trained Federal agent.”
A.J. forced his gaze away from Ana to let Harper in on exactly “what he was thinking”—well, he’d planned to, but then he took a breath and pulled his shit together. “And Ivan is the freaking boogeyman of hitmen, so . . .”
“So, it’ll be nice to take him down, right?” Harper flashed an innocent smile. The one she used when she wanted to wrap the guys around her little finger—her dark brows lifted, a casual curve to her lips. It worked every time, especially on Roman.
A.J. quickly shifted his attention to Ana when he felt her soft touch on his arm. The plea in her eyes just about did him in. Both strong-minded women were weaponizing their skills on him at the same time.
And he was screwed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A.J. set Ana on the kitchen counter and wrapped her legs tight around his waist, then slung her arms over his shoulders. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed in her delectable scent mixed with a hint of Patty’s coconut soap. “You just might be the death of me, woman.”
Ana traced her finger down the center of his chest as he leaned back to catch her eyes. “Now, whatever are you talking about?” she asked, teasing her words into a thick Southern belle accent that had him chuckling.