Targeted Risk (R.I.S.C. #7) - Anna Blakely Page 0,6

Lillian Rose, Mike’s six-month-old niece. Olivia—Mike’s little sister and Jake’s wife—was sitting on the rug in front of the large, stone fireplace. She was playing peek-a-boo with her young daughter, who was giggling up a storm every time her momma uncovered her eyes.

Mike’s heart swelled at the sight.

“They’re something else, aren’t they?” Jake stood beside him.

“Yeah.” Mike nodded with a smile. “They’re something, all right.”

Every time he looked at Olivia, Mike felt a mixture of guilt and gratefulness. Guilt for having let his little sister—and everyone he’d ever cared about—believe he was dead in order to go off and save the world. Grateful because, despite having done that, his sister had forgiven him, welcoming him back with open arms.

He also felt grateful as hell for the man standing next to him. If it hadn’t been for Jake, they would’ve lost Olivia two years ago to the hands of a madman. And if that had happened, little Lillian Rose wouldn’t be here, either.

The little girl giggled, causing the other women around her to follow suit, and a sudden flash of a different child entered his mind’s eye. Another young girl with jet black hair and crystal blue eyes.

Just like Juliet’s.

Somewhere along the way, intertwined with his memories and lifelong regrets, Mike’s mind had created her. She wasn’t real, but God, he wished she was.

“Knock that shit off, Bradshaw,” Jake practically growled in his ear.

“What?”

“You know what. Jesus, man. You’ve been back almost two years. Forget about that shit, already. I know she has.”

His heart thumped hard against his chest, and it took Mike a second to realize Jake was talking about his sister and the guilt he still felt for having left her. Of course, the guy wasn’t talking about Juliet. He didn’t even know she existed.

None of them did.

There’d been a few times since he’d been back when Mike had been tempted to tell his brother-in-law about her. Times when it was just the two of them shooting the shit over a cold beer and a warm fire. But just thinking her name was hard enough.

Saying it out loud? Forget it.

She had a different life, now. One she’d never be able to share with him, because she only knew him as Jay Reynolds. An alias he’d given up the day he’d walked away.

Not that he hadn’t thought about looking her up. Just to check on her and make sure she was okay.

Mike glanced over at Derek who was giving the other guys shit while collecting his most recent winnings. If anyone could find her, it would be him. Of that, he had no doubt.

The guy was insanely smart, and when it came to computers and searching for data and intel, there was no one better for the job. Still, Mike hadn’t asked D to find Juliet. What would be the point?

According to Ben Lopez, Mike’s former handler, both her father and her older brother had been tried and convicted of sex trafficking and several other heinous crimes he’d committed during his reign with the Russian mob. All thanks to the testimony of Volkov’s youngest son.

If Juliet was smart—which she was—she would’ve kept the false identity the Feds had given to her while in their protective custody and used it to reinvent herself completely.

That’s what Mike would’ve done if he were her. Hell, he had reinvented himself...several times over. But now, even though he was back home, close to his sister and working alongside the friend he’d known since elementary school, part of him still felt...lost.

“Earth to Mike. Hey.” Jake nudged his shoulder. “You okay?”

He blinked, snapping out of the self-torturous haze. “Huh? Yeah.” Mike forced a smile. “Sorry.”

With a knowing stare, Jake asked, “Old ghosts coming back to visit?”

Mike shrugged. “Sometimes they never leave, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Jake glanced over at his wife. “I do, actually.”

Mike looked over at Olivia and Lillian again. It still broke his heart to think of what his sister had been put through while he was still under cover and that he hadn’t been here to save her from being kidnapped and tortured. Thankfully, Jake had been.

“I think I’m gonna head home,” he told Jake somberly.

His friend looked at his watch. “Already?”

“It’s been a long week.”

Rather than laugh or make some sort of smartass comment, Jake stared back at him with an assessing gaze. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m fine.” Despite his sarcastic words, doubt began to seep in as he glanced over at the guys again. “Why? Has someone complained about my performance on