my actions. I’d allowed myself to actually care about the woman, if only for a short period of time.
As I licked the glass, taking another gulp, I couldn’t seem to get Lindsey out of my mind. If only I hadn’t accepted the damn assignment.
But I had.
One day, I was going to take out my wrath on our handler. My gut told me it was necessary as well as well deserved. Dante had played Russian roulette with the one weakness he knew would force me to stumble. And I had. While the bastard might have his reasons, no one used me for any reason. I finished the drink then reached for the bottle.
The bitter taste was growing on me.
Four Days Earlier
As the ocean waves splashed over me, I threw my head back, savoring the sun’s rays even on a partly cloudy day. At least the water was warm, the salty content soothing, the grueling workout taking more of a toll than normal. I ran my hands through my hair as I trudged through the wet sand and onto the beach, grabbing the towel I’d left along with my other things. As I shifted back to face the water, I began to dry off, the swim invigorating.
The single odd sound was enough to put me on edge, my extensive training taking over. Within two seconds, I had my weapon in my hand, jerking around to face whatever intruder had ventured onto my property. Hissing, I kept my arms extended, fully prepared to shoot as I glared at the man.
“Whoa. Christ, Rivers. Be careful where you point that thing.”
The sight of my handler standing in front of me not only didn’t bode well for the usual method of operations, but quite frankly, it pissed me off. This was my private space, a world I’d created to get the hell away from the job as well as the viciousness of the profession I’d ventured into.
And the man the experience had turned me into.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I barked, still keeping the Glock pointed in his direction as I scanned the beach. The last thing I needed was any locals asking questions. I kept out of their world and they stayed out of mine. That’s the way I liked it.
Dante lifted his eyebrows as he glared at the gun then walked closer. “If you’d answer your phone once in a while, I wouldn’t be forced to travel thousands of miles in order to have a conversation with you.”
His Italian accent was usually grating, but today the intonations pissed me off. I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit or another assignment. I’d worked undercover for three months, the outcome brutal as hell. I deserved some freaking time away. “I told you that I was taking a couple weeks off.” I noticed a file in his hand, which meant business. Another reason to be pissed off.
He lifted his sunglasses, scanning the ocean. “South Carolina. I’ve never been here before. Beautiful location and excellent weather. A little solitary for my taste but breathtaking.”
“Cut the chitchat, Dante. You didn’t come here for a weather forecast. What do you want?”
Dante shook his head, sliding his shades back into place. “Maybe you could try not being an insufferable asshole all the time, Jack. Sullen doesn’t suit you.”
And neither did his expensive linen suit or polished Italian loafers. He wouldn’t know how to blend in if he tried, his entire world encapsulated by a fancy mansion and millions of dollars. Ignoring him, I started walking toward my house, passing by him without so much as glancing in his direction.
“Jesus, Jack. What the hell is up your craw?” Dante trailed behind me, his accent getting heavier due to his increasing anger.
“I’ve worked for nine straight months with a single damn day off. I’m freaking exhausted. Plus, there’s still the question about the amount of money I received on the last gig.” Taking long strides, I knew better than to think he’d leave me alone. To travel from Italy all the way here meant whatever case he’d been authorized to assign me was worth a hell of a lot of money to the organization.
As if I gave a fuck.
“Uh-huh. I’ve expressed your dissatisfaction to the others. I’m certain someone will get back to you very soon.”
I rolled my eyes from hearing his clipped words. Right. I knew better than to think I’d hear a damn thing. The creators of the organization were rarely seen, almost never addressing one of their employees.