Page 114 of Her Mercenary

“Did you kill him?”

I noticed a change in Roman’s tone, a hint of panic at the thought that his brother might be dead.

“No, man,” Mack said. “I get the feeling enough blood has been shed on this mission. He’s cuffed, in the back of my truck. Needs medical attention.” Mack spat, then checked his nails.

Roman’s focus shifted to the Chevy parked haphazardly in the ditch.

“Figured you’d want to do the honors,” Mack said.

Ryder tossed Roman the keys to the truck that held his brother.

Roman caught the keys in midair. Turning them over in his palm, he stared down at them. Then he tossed them back.

Frowning, Mack caught the keys. “You don’t want to see him? Talk to him, at least? Wrap his balls around his—”

“No.” Roman looked at me, then back at the men. “No. Take him to the local PD.” He pulled a business card from his wallet. Before he flicked it to Ryder, I caught the name Kieran Healy, CIA written across it.

“Call the man on that card,” he said. “Tell him I got him the head of the Cussane Network.” Then he reached into his other pocket and tossed Ryder a small silver USB.

“The USB?” My eyes rounded. I’d totally forgotten about it. “You got it?”

Roman smirked. “Why do you think I was allowing my ass to get kicked so badly? Son of a bitch had it secured on a chain to his belt.”

I laughed, and Roman winked.

Phineas nodded at the card Ryder was holding. “I know Kieran personally. I’ll make sure he gets the message.”

“Thanks.” Roman refocused on Ryder. “The contents of that USB are everything the CIA needs to blow up a global human-trafficking network. The man on that card will handle it all.” Roman wiped his hands, then lifted his palms. “I’m done with it.”

Mack glanced at me, a suspicious confusion written over his face. Ryder, on the other hand, hadn’t taken his eyes off me, assessing me like one might a poisonous snake.

Roman shifted toward me, protective. “This is—”

“Samantha Greene,” Ryder said.

Roman nodded, taking my hand in his. “Sam, this is Mack McCoy and Ryder Jagger, my brothers from Astor Stone. They’re agents, like me. And Phineas Decker, apparently, though I can’t vouch for him yet.”

I caught a playful tone in Roman’s voice and got the vibe that there was some hazing yet to do.

“Nice to meet you all,” I said.

The men dipped their chins. Ryder grinned at Roman.

Mack shared a similar ornery smirk. “Guess I don’t need to know where you got that S carved into your wrist.”

“I didn’t do it,” I said quickly, glancing at the line of red scabs coloring Roman’s wrist.

“No, I don’t think you did,” Mack said with a wink.

“All right, as much as I’d love to stand here and catch up,” Roman said mockingly, “we’ve got work to do.”

“What’s next?”

All three men stepped forward, each pulling his gun from his belt. Ready. I could tell they lived for this kind of life, literally.

“Keep the road blocked,” Roman said. “Sam and I will take the kids to the hospital, then come back and load up the other victims.”

“Ah.” Ryder nodded to the two little faces pressed against the window of the truck. “I was wondering how long you two had known each other.”