Page 8 of Reckless

“Would saying no keep you from giving your opinion?”

Ignoring her sarcasm, he continued, “You’re too proud to ask for help.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.”

Jazz McAlister was one of the most independent people he’d ever met. She’d basically been on her own for more than half her life. Asking for anything—even for something she wanted as badly as finding her brother—went against that concrete code she had of never needing anyone.

“Oh yeah? Well, tell me this, then. Who helped you move from your old apartment to your new one?”

“A moving company. You’ve heard of those. Right?” she asked dryly.

She had come to headquarters one morning with her arm in a sling. Turned out she’d fallen down the stairs while singlehandedly carrying an oversized chair that was twice as big as she was. Jazz was in excellent shape, and she had muscles many people would envy, but she was in no way strong enough to lift and move heavy furniture by herself.

Ignoring her sarcasm, he continued to make his point. “When you were injured—almost died, mind you—you hired an Uber to bring you home from the hospital.”

“That again?” She blew out a controlled, explosive breath. “I’ve told you numerous times that I didn’t want to pull any of you away from an op.”

“Is it because I held back the intel from you?”

“No. I knew why you did that.”

Not long after she’d been injured, he’d learned some disturbing news about her brother. He and Ash had made the decision to hold off on telling her until she had recovered. When he’d finally told her that Brody hadn’t left Indianapolis until years after she’d already fled, she had surprised him with her lack of emotion. It was almost as if she’d already known.

“When I told you, you didn’t seem that surprised. Why?”

“Seriously? We’re going to continue this conversation during the middle of one of our most important operations?”

“Answer the question and I’ll turn the comms back on.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “No, I wasn’t surprised that Brody hadn’t left Indianapolis. It made no sense for him to go somewhere else.”

“But it made sense for him to abandon you?”

“I never said that. Something happened to him. I don’t know what, and I’ll find out when I…we…find him. He had a good reason. I know he did.”

Xavier didn’t know if she was trying to convince him or herself. Either way, his opinion of Brody McAlister was about as low as it could go. The bastard had abandoned his fourteen-year-old sister, leaving her brokenhearted and alone. It was amazing she had survived.

He glanced at his watch. He was running out of time. Going for broke, he leaned forward and growled, “Then let’s put the full force of OZ behind finding him. Trust us, Jazz. Trust me.”

He locked his eyes with hers, doing his best to communicate everything he wouldn’t allow himself to say. Whether she saw those things was up to her. Either way, Xavier was done with hiding.

Myriad emotions crossed her face, and it took every bit of his fortitude not to reach out for her. Jazz had been through so much hurt and abandonment in her life.

Just when he was certain she wouldn’t respond and he’d have to turn the comms back on without any resolution, she blew out another explosive breath and said, “All right. Fine. As soon as we’re back home, I’ll meet with Ash and ask him to get everyone on board.”

Feeling like he’d just won a major battle, Xavier gave her a nod of approval and clicked his earbud back to active. Jazz followed suit.

“Nice of you to rejoin us, you two,” Ash said. The lethal quietness in his tone told Xavier he might get his ass kicked instead of an earful from his boss, but that was okay. He had accomplished what he’d set out to do.

“How long now?” Jazz asked.

“Thirty seconds,” Serena answered. “His limo is stopping in front of the restaurant.”

“Okay, everyone,” Ash said. “Eyes open. Jazz, you know what to do.”

Both back in operational mode, they observed the last-minute prep of the restaurant staff. Everyone from the coat check girl to the maître d’ were standing straighter, their expressions ranging from excitement to extreme nervousness. A few months ago, only a handful of people had ever heard of Franco Bass, and now his celebrity status was on par with Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg.

The entourage entered the restaurant as if they were arriving royalty. A hush spread through the restaurant, and it seemed everyone held their breath as the man himself walked in.