“Well, they’re arriving tonight.”
“Is everything okay?”
With a shrug, Danny answered honestly, “I doubt it. They should be in the air is all I know.”
“Need me?”
While he could probably use help with lifting bags and settling the group into his place, he didn’t think security would be necessary. Yet…. “I don’t think so. I’ll let you know.”
“You know I’m here for you.” With a nod, Cowboy grunted at Doc’s approach.
The team medic—a bear of a man—raised his brows questioningly. “You guys ready?”
No, he wasn’t. In the stifling heat, they had to lug around forty pounds through the woods to practice a rescue and knew to expect an ambush from the Hamilton brothers.
Since their goal would be to slip in and out quietly, everything would be hand-to-hand combat. While they had a strong team of agents, the brothers seemed almost superhuman at times. The brothers had years of practice at the moves they’d taught the teams, which meant they typically moved faster to put themselves on the offensive first.
“Hell yeah!” Cowboy shoved his binoculars in his backpack, lifted it, and slid it over his shoulders like it weighed nothing.
He’d called a cleaning service to have the house readied for Declan, so he had nothing else to do except wait for them to arrive.
Danny’s distracted mind had nothing to do with the day at work and his boss requesting time off for family time. It had everything to do with the phone call he’d received while he’d neared the airport to pick up his guests. Declan’s voice had been strained, and the fear in it blasted through the call. Danny had offered to meet them in Boston, but Declan declined.
Danny tossed the biography of Steve McQueen on the side table as he stood from his couch. Worry for his friends kept him from focusing on reading. There’d been no further communication from Declan. The status of Diana and their unborn child was unknown and that ate at him.
When the phone rang, he glanced down at his watch as he picked up the cell. Ten. Not too late to fly since it took less than an hour and a half from Boston.
Danny swiped a finger on the phone screen and asked, “How is she?” before Declan could speak.
“She and the baby are okay. But Diana and I are going to stay in Boston for a bit so she can rest.”
He didn’t see a problem with that as the couple had just needed to leave Ireland and find a place to hide. However, his mind ran through former colleagues in the area that might provide protection should Declan decide they needed it. “Do you need me there?”
“No. We’ll be fine for a while.”
“What about Moira?” The kid had to be frightened with everything happening. Kid, he silently scoffed. She had to be—what? Twenty-seven or twenty-eight? Still….
“I’m sending her to you.”
Considering the protectiveness Declan demonstrated for his baby sister, the idea they’d split up shocked Danny. “Alone? Are you mad?”
“She’ll continue on the private jet, and she’s not alone.” Before Danny could ask who accompanied her, Declan hurried on. “Look, I need to go. Pick her up at midnight. Her escort won’t be staying long. He works for Boyle, but trust him. He’s on our side. At least in this endeavor.” A brief hesitation told Danny there was more. “Oh, and Danny—”
The hackles rose on the back of Danny’s neck. This didn’t sound promising.
“I’m sorry.” Declan disconnected the call before Danny could speak.
What the fuck?
One word kept playing in his mind. Boyle.
Throughout the evening, that name and Declan’s “I’m sorry” ate at Danny. It’d worsened as the Gulfstream taxied at midnight. Normally, he’d admire the smooth operation on the ground with the crews working together in perfection, but his eyes remained glued to the cabin door.
It could mean nothing that Declan didn’t mention the guard’s name—he assumed a man, but knowing some badass women as he did with HIS, it could be a woman. It could easily be someone Danny didn’t know. Yet, a niggling feeling that he’d missed something in the planning of the lovers’ escape stuck with him. And, why was Declan sorry?
The cabin door popped up and slowly slid to the side. As stairs were lowered, Danny’s eyes locked on the man guarding the door. His gut clenched and wanted to heave. His hope was that his eyes were deceiving him.
Justin—who he hadn’t seen since their father’s funeral—was Moira’s guard. Declan’s words came back to him— “He works for Boyle, but trust him.”
It’d never come up, so Danny had never asked Declan who Diana’s father was, nor had Declan shared it. He hadn’t caught that slip before, but now that he had….
Son of a bitch. All this time, Danny had allowed guilt to eat at him for accusing his brother of being dirty and working for the criminal Danny suspected of targeting their father. Danny had been distraught because he’d been elsewhere with the DEA when his brother and father were involved in the deadly bust. Before then, he’d heard rumors that his brother was playing both sides but had ignored them. Until the day of their father’s funeral when it all came to a boil in his mind.
After the mourners left, Danny had lit into Justin and all but accused him of murdering their father. His brother had disappeared after that, and Danny hadn’t looked for him.
Watching the closeness of the Hamilton family had broken something in him, and he’d wanted to patch things up with his brother. Only, he’d never made the first move.
Yet, here Justin was—proving the agents right that he’d been playing both sides. With a fierce anger surging through him, Danny stepped forward and prepared to greet his guests.
One would be met with a hug while the other might be met with the end of his fist.
Just then a leggy brunette stepped into view and his anger took a step back. Gone was the scrawny teenager he remembered. This woman…. Wow. Little Moira
