The Wife Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 5)

Spinning around, my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

“Callum?” I repeated in a raspy whisper.

Lightheadedness swept through me. I blinked at the face smiling at me in a lopsided grin … an endearingly familiar grin.

“Oh God!” I didn’t know where to look. I didn’t know how to feel. Fear and anxiety burst inside me. My trembling fingers reached for his face. “Are you real?”

Deep in my heart, I knew it was my brother. The glint in his eyes, the exact way he smiled couldn’t be faked under the layers of caked makeup.

He covered my hand with his. “I am. Who else calls you Ki?.” Lowering our clasped hands, his eyes hardened in determination before he started pulling me toward an employees-only exit.

Jolted from my trance, I resisted. “Wait, we need to get Levi.”

“No time.”

“I can’t leave—”

My brother grasped my shoulders and hauled me close. “Roth is providing a diversion. We suspect Ford or Stepanov has a man on the floor.”

“The man in the cowboy hat.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Levi’s voice called. “Kelly?”

Female chatter rose in indignation.

“Seriously, dude? Let her pee in peace.”

“Another impatient man. Figures.”

“But …” I began, torn.

“Trust me, Ki. You want answers to where I’ve been. Come with me now.”

A split-second decision had me following Callum through a cleaning supply closet that opened to a hallway leading into the casino’s alley.

“Give me your phone,” he ordered.

“What? No!”

“I can’t have anyone tracking us.”

Even when I was shocked from seeing Callum alive, I had the wits to dig in my heels. “You mean Levi? Are you mad? He’s my husband!”

Cal glared at me. “I know. But I can’t risk it.”

My purse started vibrating. Digging my phone out, I knew it was my husband, but before I could swipe to answer, Callum snatched it from my hand.

“Hey!” I snapped.

He was as bossy as Levi. He strode over to an open dumpster, tossed the phone over, and continued walking.

“You get rid of my phone and then leave me here?” My feet were compelled to move in his direction.

“You’re following me, aren’t you?” He threw over his shoulder.

He stopped beside a white work van, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine.

I hurried around the other side. What the hell was I doing? I climbed in beside him. “I haven’t seen you for five years. I’m trusting you now, Cal. I swear if you sell me to human traffickers or get me killed, I’m going to come back as a ghost and haunt you.”

My brother chuckled darkly, guiding the van down the alley, but was blocked from exiting into the road because of traffic.

“Kelly!” Levi roared.

I turned in my seat and saw my husband barreling toward us. “Shit.”

“Fuck,” Callum muttered. “Forgot what a big sumbitch James is.”

“He’s going to be pissed.”

“I think we’re past pissed, honey.”

My husband appeared at my brother’s side.

And he had a gun pointed at Callum.

Levi

“Track her!” I yelled into my mic, slamming through the exit into the alley.

“You’re there,” Bristow said. “You’re right on top of her signal.”

I glanced to the side. “Fuck. It’s in the dumpster. Disable and wipe it, then get hold of Kelso. Does he still have eyes on Roth?”

“Yes.”

Up ahead, the flashing tail lights of a van caught my eye and my fear escalated alongside the speed at which I pumped my arms to get to her faster. “Kelly!”

I sprinted toward the vehicle and prayed the traffic would prevent it from escaping. I would chase the damned van all over the strip if I had to. On my approach, I rattled off the license plate to Bristow. Drawing my gun, I reached the driver’s side. Identifying my wife as the passenger, I pointed the gun at the driver. “Kelly, get out!”

She made no move, increasing my frustrations of not being able to grab her, but my gaze was locked on the driver.

He rolled down the window. “Hi, James.”

That voice. McG? I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes.

“Levi, it’s okay,” Kelly said in a rush.

“What the hell is this?” I snapped.

“Dump the phone, get in, and I’ll tell you.”

“No.”

The traffic started moving.

“Then we’re not stopping.”

“You’re not leaving with Kelly.” I stepped in front of the vehicle. He’d have to get through me before I’d let him take my wife—brother or not.

“We’re sitting ducks out here, motherfucker.”

Even before he shouted those words to me, my senses were alert to the surroundings. My peripheral vision caught a lurking form to my right.

Cowboy from the Blackjack table appeared and he reached inside his jacket. Before he cleared his gun, I swung mine his way and shouted, “Drop it.”

Gunfire exploded.

The guy dropped to the ground, but I wasn’t lingering to find out if he had any friends around.

I circled the vehicle to Kelly’s side. She had her head down, hands over it in a crash position. I pulled the door behind her open and jumped into the van. Before I got it closed, Callum burned rubber to get out of there. I was thrown from side to side as the van avoided other vehicles, rode the sidewalk for a few seconds, before settling into a smooth ride. When I found my bearings, I got on my knees between the front seat in time to see us run a red light.

My wife was white-knuckling the dashboard and the door handle.

“You all right, Kelly?”

“I forgot,” she panted but continued, “What a terrible driver Cal is.”

“Someone was shooting at us,” Cal glanced at me. “I’m not kidding, bro. Ditch the phone.”

“No.”

“Then I’m dropping you at the corner.”

“You contacted us. You must need us.”

“I need Kelly and Kelly alone.”

“You seem to misunderstand. I’m not leaving this vehicle without my wife.”

“There’s more at risk here if we’re followed.”

“Alana is missing,” I told him.

“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I need Kelly.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“We’ve been sent a picture of her. Proof of life.”

Kelly gave a strangled cry. “Who?”

“Dmitry is chasing down the source with Moretti.”

The van swerved again to avoid a red Porsche.

“Moretti?” I clipped. “Is that fucker involved?”

“Other than Stepanov’s previous link to Chicago? No idea. But the pictures were mailed to one of his restaurants. Old school mail drop.”

“That’s why there’s nothing in the chatroom,” Bristow said through comms. I forgot he was still monitoring.

We made a sharp right turn on a red light. Irate motorists blared their horns. “Keep driving like a maniac, you’ll be stopped by a cop.”

He cursed, turned the vehicle to an on ramp before glancing at the rearview mirror. “I trust you, James. But I’m not onboard trusting anyone else, especially that detective guy who’s tailing Roth.”

“Kelso is good people,” I said.

“And he’s got friends in the Vegas PD who want to shut us down.”

“Who shot at us?” I asked as the van got on the interstate.

“Ford’s man,” Cal said. “That’s why he targeted the McGraths. Because he found out I’m alive. Ford is getting more desperate by the day.”

“Do you know who fucked up our op?”

“Yes. But we still need hard proof.”

“Stepanov?”

“He’s just the middle man. Look, it’s a long story, I’ll tell you all about it when we get to the warehouse.”

Callum parked the SUV behind an abandoned structure on a fenced-in piece of land, and the second he pulled into a parking spot behind the building, I got out and helped Kelly from the van.

My instincts were all over the place, and so were my emotions, but I’d sort them later.

“We’ll have words, but not right now,” I told Kelly. Oh, I was fucking pissed. I understood where she was coming from, but I couldn’t get over that she didn’t stick to the plan. What part of stick to me no matter what didn’t she understand?

We met Callum at the back of the van. He’d yanked off the atrocious wig and was wiping off the lipstick smearing his mouth. He looked like the clown I hated from that horror movie which made my next action easier.

I punched him across the face.

“Fuck!” he muttered, then spat out blood.

“Levi, what the hell?” my wife yelled.

“Stand back, Kelly,” I growled, glaring and pointing a finger at her. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Her eyes flashed. She fucking knew she was in goddamned trouble.

My attention whipped back to my former teammate. “That’s for taking Kelly away from my protection. If you were anyone else, I’d have killed you.”

Callum and I locked gazes. That punch confirmed I wasn’t dreaming, and he was real.

My SEAL training went to shit. No training could have prepared me for the monumental emotions surging through every vein, muscle, and cell exploding from my lungs. My chest was too small to contain all the words that scaled up my throat, but inevitably failed to come out. Words to convey disbelief, anguish, and anger, yet through it all, there was also relief.

What do you say to someone you thought was dead?

Not just anyone.

A brother.

Finally, I summoned the language a fellow SEAL would understand.

“C’mere, you ugly fuck.” I grabbed Callum behind his skull and wrenched him into a tight hug. “What the fuck happened to you?”

When we broke apart, his jaw was hard. “Betrayed.”

I gripped his chin, turning it right and left and then looked at Kelly. “What do you think? Fake?”

She puffed a nervous laugh.

“Fuck off,” Callum said and glanced warily at Kelly who was still standing beside the back of the van.

“No hug from you, Ki?”

Her mouth trembled, her face turning red, before tears spilled down her cheeks. “Is it really you, Cal?”

He grinned. “Maybe we can binge all The Avengers now?”

Kelly laughed through the flood of tears and started bawling as she stagger-stepped into the arms of her long-lost brother.

“Five years,” I murmured, letting them have their moment. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Given the players in the game so far, and having dealt with numerous clandestine ops before, Callum being alive wasn’t farfetched. All we needed was for Kelly’s brother to complete the puzzle. As my mind defied the logic of his resurrection, seeing him alive was surreal. It was a good thing McGrath in drag queen disguise tempered the shock. A slow recognition. A slow acceptance proving he wasn’t a ghost.

After Kelly regained a semblance of composure, we walked into the warehouse. With my head on a swivel, I followed them into the building, still spiked with adrenalin from the shocks of the evening.

There were too many.

“Where’s Roth?” I asked.

Callum flipped a lever for the lights. “Five minutes out. He’s with your cop buddy. We’ve been careful not to be seen in public together.”

“Is Dmitry coming to Vegas?”

“He’s finishing his business with Moretti.”

My eyes scanned the area. A sofa, arm chairs, and a wide screen TV sat in the middle. Sectioned off areas were made into other living areas. Two crates loomed in one corner. But despite all these pieces, the warehouse was so enormous, it looked empty.

“Roth stays here?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s owned by one of his shell companies.” Instead of expounding, Callum asked, “Beer?”

I was still weirded out with the makeup and lipstick. “Point me to the kitchen if you don’t mind us ransacking your stash.” I grinned wryly. “I’m sure this conversation would go down easier if you scrape that gunk off your face.”

He chuckled. “Good idea.” He tipped his chin to the corner of the warehouse. “Fridge over there. Get me a Heineken while you’re at it. We’ve also got whisky.”

When Callum disappeared into one of the sectioned off areas, I turned to my wife and collared her with my fingers, easing her to my side. “Still mad at you, Kelly.”

“Can we not do this here?” she whispered. “I’m still wrapping my mind around the fact that Cal is alive.”

“You and me both. Straight up, I don’t know how I feel about it.”

She rested her forehead on my chest. My arms came around her. “Let’s see what McG has stocked.”

It was a decent living space. A microwave sat on a stainless-steel tabletop. Beside it, the fridge contained mostly beer and deli meat. With Vegas nearby, there wasn’t a need to go all prepper. I grabbed our beers and Kelly grabbed a coke.

When we returned to the living area, McGrath was back, dressed in gym shorts and a tee cut off at the sleeves.

The man before me was Callum. Yet, he wasn’t. The glint in his eyes was flint hard, his face seemed thinner, more angular, yet it had the same crooked smile. Callum had always been a meathead who loved pizza and beer. I used to joke he was more fat than muscle. But that was not the case now.

A choked sob started up Kelly’s throat again. “You’ve lost weight.”

I handed him a beer. “I’d say he needed it. They didn’t have pizza where you were, bro?”

“Fuck off,” he said good-naturedly. “Roth and your detective are here.”

As if on cue, the two men walked in.

Kelso walked to our side. “You guys okay? Saw the shootout and saw you get into the van. Roth tells me it was Ford’s man.”

“Vegas CSI is on the scene,” Bristow said in my ear. “I’m monitoring your channel and theirs. I’ll go incognito.”

“Roger that,” I said.

“What did Bristow say?” Kelso asked.

Roth and Callum conferred while I talked to the detective. I kept Kelly by my side.

“CSI is onsite,” I answered. “Think you can get details from your buddy in the Vegas PD?”

“Definitely,” Kelso said. “What happened?”

I told him how Callum snuck Kelly out, and gave him the gist of the chaos that ensued when the cowboy appeared.

After McG and Roth broke up their meeting and approached us, I stiffened when the fucker and my wife locked eyes.

Hell, no. I tightened my grip around Kelly’s shoulder.

Roth smirked, but if he thought I was shy about staking a claim, he must’ve forgotten our restaurant encounter.

“Levi!”

I ignored Kelly’s warning and stepped in front of her.

“The next time you call my wife behind my back, I’m going to bury your body.”

The man flicked an amused gaze Kelso’s way. “Hear that, detective?”

“I might help him,” Kelso told him. “Save the department the trouble seeing that you’ve cost us enough man-hours looking for you.”

Roth’s amusement faltered. “Noted.”

Having made my point, I looked at McG. “Now would you tell us what the fuck is going on?”