An unfamiliar emptiness began seeping through his pores, and it occurred to Jake that he had no fucking clue what to do next. Sleep damn sure wasn’t coming anytime soon, and even though he’d thrown up every ounce of food in his system earlier, the thought of eating anything made him want to puke all over again.
Jake knew he had to find something to do, though. Otherwise, he’d go fucking insane.
He glanced over at his phone. Desperate to get his mind on something else—as if that were actually possible—he picked it up. In a feeble attempt to distract himself, he decided to check the voicemails left from the calls he’d ignored earlier.
The most recent message was from Sean Cooper, one of his team’s two snipers. Jake listened as Coop asked about the story on Liv. That message was followed by the one Mac, his other sniper, had left.
After those, Jake heard Trevor’s voice growling in his ear, demanding that Jake call him back “A-Fucking-SAP.” The pain and devastation in the other man’s voice was unmistakable, and not at all surprising.
Trevor had only known Liv a relatively short time, but she’d touched every soul she’d come into contact with. Trev was no exception. Jake knew he should probably give the guy a call, but he was barely keeping his own shit together as it was.
One by one, Jake deleted the messages. Almost his entire team had called. Everyone except Hill.
Apart from their missions, Grant Hill—a former SEAL, and the best explosives expert Jake had ever worked with—kept to himself. If he had to guess, Jake would bet his teammate was keeping his distance out of respect for Jake’s privacy, and not because Hill was the uncaring asshole he wanted everyone to think he was.
Full of restless energy, Jake stood and went to the kitchen. He pulled a second phone from one of the smaller drawers...his personal cell.
Each team member had two phones. They were both secure lines, but Derek only programed one to use while away on a job, changing the information to fit each specific job or cover as needed.
They kept their personal phones at home to use on their down time. The only exception was if the job was a simple security systems check or installation, or a bodyguard job within the continental U.S.
Anything more serious, or if the job took them out of the country, those phones stayed home. If they ever fell into the wrong hands, the information stored on them would put anyone close to them at risk. It wasn’t a fool-proof plan, but the team took every precaution they could to protect the ones they loved.
Besides his team, less than a handful of people had the number attached to Jake’s personal phone. A couple of important, government contacts. Jason Ryker, the team’s Homeland Security handler. And of course...Olivia.
Jake also rerouted R.I.S.C.’s office number to this phone when he was out of town. This allowed him to bypass going downtown to the office or the bullshit of calling in and pressing one for this and two for that, later.
Sitting back down onto the couch, he began listening to the new round of messages, starting with the most recent. The first few were duplicates of the ones his team had left on his work phone. Jake deleted those quickly.
The next dozen were from people who’d called the office, wanting to hire R.I.S.C. for various jobs. Jake kept those, since right now, his concentration was shit.
After only partially listening to a half-dozen more, he accepted it was a waste of time. He was in the process of turning the phone off when he saw it.
His heart shot into his throat as he stared at the name attached to the next voicemail on the list. It was dated two days before Olivia’s group left for Madagascar.
Normally, he couldn’t wait to hear her voice. This time, however, Jake’s gut churned with dread. Hearing it now would be the ultimate torture, but there was no way in hell he could ignore it.
Closing his eyes, Jake tried to mentally prepare himself to hear the last words the woman he loved would ever speak to him. Inhaling deeply, he tapped the screen to start the message.
“Hey, Jake. It’s Olivia.”
His fingers fumbled miserably, and he nearly dropped the damn phone onto the coffee table while trying to hit pause. His nose burned, and his eyes filled with tears. He bit his bottom lip to stop its quivering as his chest moving in and out in ragged breaths.
Covering his mouth with his free hand, Jake’s fingertips pressed deeply into the skin of his jaw as he fought to stay in control. God, he hadn’t realized how fucking hard this would be.
After a few seconds, Jake ordered himself to man the hell up. He restarted the message.
“Hey, Jake. It’s Olivia. Hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I’d call. I was hoping to see you before I left, but I guess you’re still out saving the world.”
In spite of the situation, he smiled sadly. Tears fought for release. How many times had Olivia jokingly used those words to describe his job—or what she’d thought was his job? If she’d only known how close to the truth she’d actually been.
“I wanted to let you know it’s my turn to be out of town for a while. Some doctors and nurses from other hospitals are going to Madagascar, and”—she paused, sounding almost nervous—“I know what you’re thinking. Crazy, right? But, the people there need help, Jake. They asked for volunteers to go, and you know me...always up for a new adventure!”
Jake could actually hear her smile. He envisioned her eyes lighting up. The quivering in his bottom lip worsened, and the knot in his throat grew exponentially larger. He barely made it through the rest of
