Page 30 of Ravaged Hearts

“Why not go with a partial truth?” Hope shrugged. “I’ll tell Carlos I survived Alvarez’s attack, and when I recovered, I decided I wanted freedom from cartel life. That part is accurate. I just need to convince him that I’ve changed my mind and want to come home.”

Sage nodded. “It’s an easy story to keep straight.”

I grunted and glanced at the others. “You’re all trying to make this sound simple.”

Brandon adjusted his glasses. “We’ve carried out far more complex ops successfully.”

Again with the truth. Why did my teammate have to be so damn logical?

Hope leaned into me. “It’ll be okay. You told me a bunch of times that you guys are good at what you do. You weren’t lying, were you?”

Me and my big mouth. Why had I talked up the team’s skills so hard?

“He wasn’t bluffing,” added Sage. “If you have a rich, powerful asshole that needs taking care of, these are the men you want on your side.”

“Hope, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” Brandon asked. “What you’re offering isn’t without risks. You can back out, and none of us will think any less of you.”

“I’m sure.” Hope made eye contact with Brandon and Sage, then finally aimed her look of steadfast determination at me. “I want to do this.”

Brandon rounded the desk to his computer workstation. I guessed he wasn’t wasting a moment in getting started. “We’ll handle it from here,” he said. “Why don’t you guys get somerest? After the rough day you’ve had, you’ll need it to be ready for tomorrow.”

I frowned. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He picked up his phone to tap out a message. “I’m calling the team in. We’re spinning up at eighteen hundred hours.”

I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Taking down Espinoza was priority one, but I wasn’t ready to let go of Hope so soon.

Fuck. One night. That was all we had left together before I had to deliver her to the jaws of the enemy.

13

VAUGHN

After a late dinner in the lodge’s kitchen, Brandon drove Hope and me up the rough mountain track to my cabin. The tires crunched over gravel, and the headlights bounced off trees as we negotiated turns along the dark, twisty road.

Brandon lowered the volume on the radio. “Sage stocked your refrigerator and pantry with a few essentials.”

She always did that after I got back from a mission. Sage and Brandon were too good to me. Despite my personality problems, they treated me like one of their own. Best of all, they didn’t handle me with kid gloves and weren’t afraid to call me out on my bullshit. I intimidated most people, which meant I was used to getting my way, but Brandon, Sage, and now Hope provided the reality check I needed.

“Appreciate it.” I nodded. “And Esme?”

I felt a little bad that I hadn’t stopped by the barn to check on my chicken yet, but she’d forgive me.

“Content bossing around all the other hens in the coop. Don’t blame me if she’s gotten fatter since you last saw her. Sage has been spoiling her.”

I smiled and glanced at Hope. She remained silent as she stared out the window into near blackness.

What would she think when I showed her around the house I’d built with my bare hands? The cabin wasn’t much—one bedroom, a modest kitchen, and a sparsely decorated living space. There was also a garage housing my pickup, weapons, and tools. The only luxury item I’d installed was a big-ass tub in the en suite bathroom. Given the aches and pains that only worsened each year from a career of being shot at, blown up, and surviving a couple of helo crashes, a place to soak was a necessity.

I thanked Brandon for the ride and ushered Hope inside. A wall sconce illuminated the entry, and someone—probably Sage—had lit the open fireplace, making the cabin warm and welcoming.

I tossed the keys on the entry table and dumped my bag on the floor. “This is it.” I scratched the back of my head. “Not as grand as the lodge, but at least it’s private.”

“You said you built this place?” Hope spun in a slow circle to take in all four walls, the pitched ceiling, and the loft bedroom at the top of a narrow stairway.

“With help from Shep, one of my Zulu brothers you’ll meet tomorrow. He made most of the wooden furniture in here, too.” I gestured to a few pieces. The coffee table in front of the leather couch and the stools beneath the breakfast bar.

Hope went to the bookshelf on the side wall and ran her finger along the carved detailing around its edge. “This one, also?”