a woman with your shared past needs help, and the same men who had our backs downrange are asking for a favor.”
“Trefor was a Teams man,” I pointlessly argued.
“Different uniform, same war,” Luna countered.
I glanced back at the monitors.
“You in?” Luna pressed.
I slid back ten years.
The screen door whipped open, then banged shut. “Ronan Conlon, you underhanded, devious man, you show yourself right now!”
Doing one more push-up, I shoved off the living room floor. Sweaty, shirtless, I walked into the kitchen.
Songbird angrily waved her phone through the air. “What is this?” she demanded.
She was stunning in her fury, and I made the mistake of smiling. “A phone.”
“I am not kidding!” She stomped her foot. “You did this!”
My smile dropped as I reached for her phone. “What did I do?” Did she find the pictures I’d taken of her sleeping in my arms?
She turned her phone toward me. “Look, look at this. One hundred and twenty-three thousand views,” she practically screeched. “And they keep calling!”
I didn’t care about the number of people who watched her sing, but I sure as hell cared about the latter. “Who keeps calling?”
“Them.” She waved her phone again, and then as if on cue, it started ringing. “Record people!”
Turning away from the monitors, I headed for the door. “Call Trefor. Tell him we come on board with a team or not at all.” If we did this, I wasn’t putting her life at risk any more than it already was.
“Done,” Luna confirmed.
I walked out of the control room.
Adam Trefor hung up his phone and glanced at Vance. “They’re in.”
“Great.” Vance stood from the couch in the sitting area of the fancy hotel suite.
“With conditions,” Adam added.
Reaching for one of the full bottles of liquor on the bar, Vance paused and looked over his shoulder at Adam. “What conditions?”
“They want to bring in their own team.” Adam looked at me. “Ronan’s insisting.”
Vance turned back around, his hands on his hips. “How many?”
“Three, four,” Adam replied. “Does it matter?”
“No,” I protested. “I don’t want anyone else getting involved.” For too many reasons, but only one that truly mattered.
Besides, Adam and Vance had managed all on their own, with that man Silas driving us before returning to his plane, to get me into the hotel in Miami Beach without anyone noticing I was here. I was paying Adam’s company a fortune, and they’d rented out the entire top floor and the floor below to be safe. I could afford it, but it still seemed ridiculous for three people to have two whole floors of a hotel all to ourselves.
Ignoring me, Adam addressed Vance. “Take the win.”
Vance looked at me and put on a placating face. “Love, we need them involved if we want to wrap this up.”
“Vance,” I warned. “We talked about this.” I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone getting hurt or the past coming to light.
“Listen.” Quickly pouring a drink, he handed it to me. “We need Ronan. You know this. He’s an expert on explosives, and if he wants to bring in some more muscle, we’ll handle it. We’ll make sure this is all kept under wraps, and I can assure you, any of Luna’s men will have the utmost discretion.”
Taking the drink even though I didn’t want it, angry that Vance was trying to convince me to involve more people when he swore in London he wouldn’t, I lashed out. “Handle it how? You said it was handled on the tour after the first threat. Then you found two more bombs. The whole point of coming here was to isolate me from the tour. You said someone in my entourage was probably couriering the notes. So you made up this plan and had me push up meetings that could’ve waited until after the tour just to give us an excuse to come here.” I got it, eliminating the courier was crucial to finding the bomber before he did more than just plant a bomb, but I was angry at his whole stupid plan now that I’d actually seen Ronan.
“The plan is twofold, darling,” Vance reminded me.
My anger simmered, at him, at his condescending tone. “I know what the plan is,” I snapped. “I’m not stupid. Get the threat away from the tour and my fans, then take down the bomber. I’m reminding you of what you said and how you told me before that it was handled and it wasn’t.” My hand waved through the air, because no matter how much coaching I’d gotten