“How do you decide what story to go after? I know you mentioned your boss gives you a lot of leeway, but how do you even start? I mean, do you look at the news and wait until something grabs your attention?”
She stirred artificial sweetener into her iced tea. “Most of the time, yeah. I see something that’s just wrong—a person getting away with something everyone knows they did, someone lying about something important with a perfectly straight face, a group of bad people using the system to get away with hurting people over and over. I see things like that and I just have to do something about it.”
“You want to right wrongs then.”
She sipped her drink. “Unfortunately, I rarely get to right the things that are wrong. The most I can usually do is make sure the truth comes out.”
In his experience, truth could be one hell of a four-letter word. It was frequently held up as this amazing tonic that cured all ills, but it didn’t always work out that way.
The funny thing was, he’d been wondering all weekend—in between romps in the bedroom and intimate conversations on the sofa—if he should tell her that he was a werewolf. Not right away, but soon. There was just something about her that made him want to be completely, one hundred percent honest with her.
But this wasn’t just his secret, and that was what held him back every time he thought about opening his mouth.
“What about those situations where the truth coming out will only lead to more problems?” he asked.
She regarded him thoughtfully, as if she was wondering if he was just making conversation or whether this was one of those other secrets he had.
“It might cause some pain and suffering at first, but I tend to believe the world is a better place when all the secrets are out in the open,” she said.
Damn, sometimes it was hard not looking at her and assuming she could see right through him. But with that question, he’d just exposed the biggest difference between them. She’d seen the real world, but she was still an idealist. She lived in a place where honesty and truth always led to the best outcome. He’d seen the same real world, but lived in a place where lies and cover-ups kept people safe.
“What about secrets the world isn’t ready to handle yet?” he asked.
“Give the world more credit than that. People can handle more than you think.” She gave him a pointed look. “Besides, no one has the right to decide what secrets another person can and can’t handle.”
Yeah, Mackenzie had definitely figured out this wasn’t a theoretical discussion. Not surprising. She was a journalist after all.
But when the burgers showed up, she changed the subject and started talking about the last time she had a burger this big and how much she loved them.
Great. Now Gage felt like shit. She probably thought he was trying to work the courage up to tell her about something else that had happened when he was in the Army, and that he’d tell her when he was ready. She’d freak if he told her his biggest secret—that he hadn’t gotten out of the Army because he couldn’t deal with the death of his friends, but because he couldn’t deal with becoming a werewolf. No matter how well Mackenzie thought she could handle things, she wasn’t ready for that kind of secret. He wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for that.
He shoved those thoughts aside and focused on his burger. At least that wouldn’t make him feel depressed.
He’d just drowned his fries in ketchup and taken the first bite of his burger when his phone rang.
Mackenzie looked at him, a French fry poised halfway to her mouth. “Guess you have to answer that, don’t you?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out his damn phone. One weekend, that was all he’d been looking for. “Yeah, they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
Of course, it might not be work… Gage glanced at the call display. It was Mike’s cell, not the main line at the compound. He thumbed the accept button.
“Yeah, Mike, what’s up?”
“Damn, I’m glad you picked up. I was worried you’d let it go to voice mail.”
The tone in Mike’s voice immediately made his inner werewolf go on alert, and all kinds of bad shit start running through his head. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got a call from a guy I know over in Customs and Border Protection at Dallas/Fort Worth International,” Mike said. “We’ve got trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Red flags have been coming in on nearly every flight inbound from Mexico and South America since 0900 this morning. We’re talking more than a dozen guys. All cartel connected and all well-known killers.”
That sinking feeling in his stomach just got worse. “Why are we only hearing about it now?”
“Federal district attorneys have a couple major drug cases going on right now and thought the guys were in town for a hit on one of their witnesses,” Mike said. “My guy called me from the freaking bathroom because he knew they weren’t coming in for any witness. Not when they figured out who brought these guys in.”
Gage swore. “Hardy.”
“Yeah, and he’s not even trying to cover his tracks. The son of a bitch had limos waiting for every one of these guys. According to cops and informants I know back from my days undercover, the word on the street is that these guys are here to take you and your girlfriend out. Soon.”
“Shit.”
On the other side of the table, Mackenzie had put down her burger and was looking at him with concern.
“Gage, the deputy chief is going to want to put the two of you in protective custody, you know that, right?” Mike asked.
“That sure as hell isn’t going to happen,” Gage growled.
“No shit,” Mike agreed. “Hardy has men on the inside. He’d know where you were going
