Whistleblower (PALADIN Book 1)

Eden has thanked me countless times this evening. She thanked me on the phone when she learned I made reservations for dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant. She thanked me when I arrived at her door on time with flowers to pick her up for our date. When I told her she looked like a goddess in the silky dark green dress that hugged her body like a glove, she thanked me again. Another time, when I opened the car door for her and helped her out of my bulletproof sedan with the blacked-out license plate. And yet again when I helped her shuffle into our private booth by the window with a view overlooking the city.

“Linc, have I thanked you yet for such a lovely evening?”

I laugh to myself. “Yes, Bambi. Several times.” I squeeze her thigh through her thin dress. “In fact, you only get one more for the entire evening. One more ‘thank you,’ and that’s it. You can’t say it again, so make it a good one.”

Her eyes hit the ceiling as she taps her fingertips together, contemplating. Then, she eyes me up and down. “Thank you for dressing up, you look so handsome.”

Confused, I say, “You’re welcome, but that was an odd one to waste it on. I plan on paying tonight, and I have a little present for you back at my place.”

She eyes my lap and gives me a naughty smile as I burst into laughter.

“Well, that too…but I mean a literal present. Nothing fancy, although I did put it in a small gift box.” I rotate my fingers around each other. “There’s even a bow.”

She leans over and kisses my cheek, the smell of her rich perfume lingering between us. “Do other women know about you?” I let out a breathy chuckle. More than I care to admit.

“Not this version of me,” I say honestly.

“Good,” she responds matter-of-factly. “Let’s not tell them. I’d have to go to war to keep you.”

After taking in a panoramic view of the dimly lit restaurant, Eden scoots out of the booth. “I need to visit the restroom.” Tapping her clutch on the table she adds, “My license is in the clear flap. If this waiter ever decides to return, would you show him my ID and order me a drink?”

“Of course. What would you like? Or do you want me to control that too?” I ask with a wicked smile. I’m half-distracted by her breasts which look unbelievably tempting in her low-cut dress. I have to keep reminding myself to keep my eyes on hers when she’s speaking. I’m suddenly very annoyed at this tardy waiter, delaying dinner…and my after-dinner plans.

Her tongue darts out quickly before she winks. “Prosecco, please.” She takes a few steps, then returns to the table and furrows her neatly trimmed eyebrows at me. “Do you have an ID if you get carded?”

My forehead wrinkles from my perplexed expression. “Do you think I’m underage, Eden?”

She snorts. “No, I’m just curious.”

Leaning to the side, I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and retrieve my driver’s license. I hand it to her. “I’m twenty-eight, like I told you.”

She grabs it from me and scours the little lines of text, looking for something. “You’re shitting me.”

“What?”

“Lincoln. Abraham. That’s what is on your driver’s license?” Her eyes widen to startling proportions. “Lincoln Abraham? And no one suspects that’s a fake name?”

Laughing, I scold her. “Are you trying to announce that to the entire restaurant?”

She exhales in cute frustration and heads toward the ladies’ room. In perfect timing, the waiter arrives shortly after she leaves. He’s dressed up in a three-piece suit and my irritation is quickly replaced by pity. It must be hot and uncomfortable to wait tables in that monkey suit all night.

“Would you like to start with a drink?”

Yes, thirty minutes ago. “Your nicest bottle of Prosecco for the lady, and a mid-tier whiskey for me. I don’t care about the brand.”

“May I see your IDs?”

I shuffle through Eden’s purse, finding her license in a clear flap. As I pull it free, a notecard slips out and onto the table.

“Would your girlfriend like strawberries for her Prosecco?”

I don’t correct him. Do I need to? Is Eden my girlfriend now? “I’m not sure. How about on a plate to the side?”

He nods and saunters off. I stuff Eden’s belongings back into her purse until I notice the title on the card and my curiosity takes over. I have to swallow down my laughter. Across the top of the notecard, underlined, reads: Questions to Ask Linc.

EDEN

Sometimes I wonder if I’m attracted to Linc because, in a way, he’s elite. From the moment Callen spoke about him at the diner nearly a month ago, he’s had a spotlight on him in my mind. I got goosebumps the very first time I laid eyes on him in that meeting room and realized who he was because he has a magnificence about him.

Am I so hot for him because of his job, even though I claim it’s the only off-putting aspect of him? Do I like the power he holds? The way he takes what he wants and executes justice as he sees fit?

But, as I cross the restaurant floor, eyes locked on his burly frame, looking fine as hell in a baby blue dress shirt that matches his eyes, it’s obvious… I would’ve dropped my panties for this man even if he scooped elephant shit at the zoo. Damn, he’s hot. And sweet. And such a gentleman. It’s like he studied a first-date playbook before this evening. He’s executed every single part flawlessly.

When I return, there’s a bottle of Prosecco chilling in an ice bucket and a small plate of halved strawberries.

“Oh, that’s a nice touch,” I say, nodding at the strawberries as I glide back into the booth. My smile is replaced with utter mortification when I see the pink notecard, face down on the table in front of my spot. I realize instantly what Linc has unearthed and my stomach twists. Shit. I completely forgot I stuffed those stupid questions into my purse.

“Ah, dammit,” I huff, hanging my head.

Linc shoots me a teasing smile. “If I knew this date had homework, I might’ve studied.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” I groan. “I could die of embarrassment right now.”

“Oh hey, now.” He nudges me with his arm, but when I won’t look up from the table, he hooks his finger under my chin. He has to tilt my chin to the ceiling before I’ll meet his gaze. “Everything you do is either sexy, endearing, or inspiring. You can do no wrong in my eyes.”

“No wrong?” I ask, skeptically.

He lifts the bottle out of the ice bath and fills my empty glass flute. “None. But why the questions, may I ask?” He taps the notecard.

My cheeks puff up as I blow out a slow breath. “Because I’m a little confused.”

“About what?”

“If we’re on a date…and we’re sleeping together…and you stay over at my place… Does that mean we’re together? Is together even something you’re interested in?” I don’t care how gentlemanly Linc is, or how kind he’s being, every woman in the world gets a flood of nervous energy when she asks a man if he’s willing to claim her. I hold my breath, anxiously waiting for a response.

“One or two?” Confused at first, I realize Linc’s asking about the strawberries. I hold up one finger, and he plops a strawberry half into the glass. I watch as the golden liquid bubbles furiously as the fruit sinks to the bottom. He slides the glass closer to me. “You asked for exclusivity. Doesn’t that mean we’re together?”

“Sexually, sure. But there are a lot of things I’d want to know about my boyfriend that I don’t know about you. I brought these notes along just in case, but I don’t want to put you on the spot. I like you, but by now I also know PALADIN a little better, so, I didn’t expect dating you to be conventional.” I slide the notecard off the table and attempt to shove it back into the deepest corner of my silver clutch but Linc grabs my hand. He carefully wrestles the notecard from my grip.

“I answer these questions right and then I’m your boyfriend?”

I scrunch my face at him. “Well, it’s not a pass or fail kind of thing. It’s more like a get-to-know-you kind of thing. I just feel like this is moving a little fast.”

“I see lives end almost every day, Eden. When I want something, I move fast. If you wait, you might miss it forever.”

Linc’s full of these profound truths. It always catches me off guard because he’s so casually conversational with them. He reminds me of an old philosophy professor that I couldn’t get rid of all through my undergrad and on to my doctorate. Professor Ross was a total ass, but he was so intelligent. He taught me how to navigate this world. His opinion was that right versus wrong was a concept that was so overly simple, it was borderline idiotic.

Surviving amongst each other takes a very high pain tolerance. We have to forgive far more often than is comfortable, and our entire existence is a life lesson about upending the biases and assumptions we create ourselves.

Professor Ross was a walking contradiction, and he wanted it that way. My teacher would spend the first few weeks of the semester convincing us he was Nietzsche’s biggest supporter, only to pivot and preach Kantian ethics before midterms. By the time I had my diploma in hand, I only knew one thing—that I knew absolutely nothing… Well, that and studying any more philosophy might drive me to the brink of madness. How do you unify that which is vehemently divided? How do you marry two polar opposites?

How does a woman, who hates violence and guns, fall for a professional killer?

“These are the answers you need to feel comfortable being with me?” Linc waves the card side to side, and I nod. He hands back the questions. “All right, ask away.”

Knowing Linc, he’s already read through all of these. “You’re going to answer these honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Every single one?”

“All eight of them.” Knew it. But if the opportunity is here to get answers from the ghost, I’d be crazy not to take it. Taking a little swig of my drink, I start the impromptu boyfriend interview. The first question is easy.

“Do you have any pets?”

Linc smiles. “Lance is loyal like a dog, and if you spend some time training him he’ll fetch you things, but outside of that—I’ve never had a pet.”

I snort. “Okay, fair enough.”

“How about you? Why don’t you have a pet?”

“I love dogs. I had a Malinois who passed a couple of years ago. She’s impossible to replace and I haven’t had the heart to try.”

“What happened?”

“My dad bought Mickey for me right before his fifth tour. He told her to look after me, but that girl was obsessed with her Daddy Jorey, she’d get mopey whenever he was gone.” I chuckle to myself thinking about how she was supposed to cheer me up during the times Dad was away, but I always ended up taking care of her instead. “She was such a good dog though—so smart, patient, and sweet. After my dad retired and his health really started declining, I thought I’d have Mickey to help me through the aftermath, but the day he died, she crawled up into his empty bed, closed her eyes, and never opened them again. I guess…she wanted to go with him.”

Linc presses his lips to my temple and wraps his arms around my shoulders. I want to bathe in the clean soap smell he’s always wearing. It’s a smell I’m starting to miss whenever it isn’t around. “That’s a shame,” he murmurs.

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “She went peacefully. They both did.”

“Good. Next question.”

I glance down at the card as if I don’t have all these questions memorized in order. “Where do you see yourself in five years? Jobwise.” I cringe. That sounded more like an actual interview question. Geez. It’s official, I no longer know how to date.

Linc chuckles lightly. “Dead.”

My expression flattens. It’s the first and only thing he’s said to upset me this evening. I have a hard time seeing the humor in it. “That’s not funny.”

“Bambi, I’m kidding.”

“Okay, let’s try a different question,” I say, wiggling away from his grip and angling my body so I’m facing him head-on in the curved booth. “How many times a week are you in mortal danger because of PALADIN?”

Linc folds his hands together and taps his knuckles against his lips. “If it helps, I am very good at what I do. Disturbingly good. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. Linc’s so normal around me, sometimes I forget who he is, and how I met him in the first place.

“Okay.” I flash him a half-hearted smile. “But maybe work on your secondary skills, you know, in case you ever want a career change.” I wink and click my jaw, but he doesn’t return my playfulness.

Linc’s expression hardens. “Eden, there’s only one way out of PALADIN, and it’s not a happy ever after. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

A small lump lodges in my throat that I can’t swallow down. Surely, he doesn’t mean…death? “I think so.”

Grabbing my hand, he pulls it to his lips. “Next question,” he says before planting a quick kiss on the back of my hand.

“How many prior relationships have you had?”

“Zero. Next question.” Linc answers in a hurry, eager to move on but I’m too clever for that.

I narrow my eyes. “How many women have you slept with before me?”

“Technically we haven’t slept together yet.” He pumps his eyebrows.

“Oral sex is still sex,” I say, sounding like a sexual harassment seminar I’ve delivered on several occasions. “Which means I’m a little late in asking but are you, um…clean…you know, health-wise, are you in the clear?” I pinch one eye shut. I don’t care if you’re a nurse who hands out condoms for a living, asking someone you like to see naked about their sexual health is uncomfortable. Not even I know how to handle this gracefully.

A teasing smirk spreads over Linc’s face. “Are you asking me if I could potentially have an STD?”

He’s enjoying the flush of embarrassment reddening my cheeks. I don’t think Linc gets embarrassed because he acts like he doesn’t understand it. Every time I’m humiliated, he looks at me like I’m the most fascinating creature in the world.

“I’m asking if maybe the last time you got a bullet wound stitched up, they asked you to pee in a cup…and then later sent you the results?”

He’s full-on laughing now. “Thanks to Callen’s protocol, I actually do have to piss in a cup every time I cross country borders, so yes, Eden—I can assure you, I’m clean.”

“Good, me too.”

“Does that mean we can omit the condom tonight?”

I flash him my teeth. “Whether or not you’re having sex tonight is highly dependent on your answer to that other question,” I tease.

He presses his lips together. “You’re asking a question you don’t really want an answer to. What does it matter how many if they all pale in comparison to you?”

I stare at him and try to keep my mouth from falling open. “I’m going to need a copy of that playbook,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry. But anyway, the condom is probably best. I didn’t have insurance for a long time, so I haven’t had a chance to get a new IUD. I’m not on birth control right now.”

I must’ve said something wrong. Linc pulls down on his face with both hands. When I finally see his eyes, they look tormented. He looks like he’s debating whether or not to ask the question on his mind. Finally, he gives in. “Do you want children one day?” he asks.

I don’t like the panicked look in his eyes, but I refuse to lie about this. Not to any man, not to anyone. “Yes. But not necessarily right now. And I’m not dead set on how many. But overall, yes. I always figured I’d be a mother eventually. I take it you don’t want children?”

“I can’t.”

“You’re sterile?”

“By choice,” he admits, no longer looking me in the eyes. Linc glances toward the bar, across the restaurant, toward the kitchen…pretty much everywhere but at me.

“What does that mean?”

“I had a vasectomy a very long time ago.”

Oh. “A very long time ago? You’re only twenty-eight.”

Inhaling sharply, he lets out a harsh breath. “I joined PALADIN at sixteen. They gave me a gun, a new name, and a vasectomy.”

I tent my hands over my mouth to cover my gasp. Of course our very tardy waiter returns during the most shocking revelation of the evening.

“Would you like to hear the specials?” he asks as he spreads a napkin over his forearm, pulls the bottle of Prosecco from its melting ice bath, and refills my flute.

My mouth is still covered and my eyes are wide with shock, so Linc collects our menus and hands them to the waiter. “Surprise us.” Linc turns to me. “Do you like pasta?” I nod, but I can’t find my appetite at the moment. Speaking to the waiter again, Linc’s tone is clipped. “Whatever you’d recommend. If it’s good, I promise your tip will be triple the bill.”

The waiter nods enthusiastically. “Thank you, sir, I know just the thing. Any allergies?”

Linc shakes his head, and I follow suit, eager for this waiter to leave the table. The second he’s out of earshot I reach up to stroke Linc’s cheek.

“They castrated you at sixteen? You were just a boy. That’s disgusting. What doctor would do that?”

“Castrate?” Linc reels in response. “No, no—you saw. It still works.” He winks.

I give him a pity laugh. “Poor word choice. I meant neutered. Linc, who makes a sixteen-year-old boy do that? It was too soon to make a decision that’d mark the rest of your life. Vesper asked this of you?”

He cups his hand over mine that’s resting on his cheek. He leans further into my palm. “If it wasn’t for Vesper, I probably would’ve ended up just like the men I rid the world of today. I didn’t have a good childhood, Eden. PALADIN gave me a new life.”

“Well, it certainly asks for a lot in exchange. You can’t get out. You put your life in danger daily. You’ll never have kids, even if you want them? It seems cruel.”

“It’d be cruel for a child to have me as a father.” Pulling my hand away from his face, Linc tucks it back into my lap. He finally grabs his drink, something amber-colored and strong-smelling. He throws it back in one glug.

“Jorey and I aren’t the same,” Linc continues. “Your dad was honor and duty—he was a hero. Do you understand that’s not me? I’m in the shadows because our governments have deemed the things I do to be evil and unacceptable. There’s no medal coming for me, Eden. I’m different, and I thought because of everything you’d gone through with Empress and working off-the-books for the FBI, maybe you would end up a little different too. I thought we had some common ground… But I see now, your life is still promising, while mine’s unsalvageable. Maybe whatever this is between us…will only trap you.” He kisses my forehead. “I don’t want to trap you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Does he really believe that? Is it true?

I had plans. I planned to be married by twenty-six and have my first baby by twenty-eight. Maybe my second two years later. I planned to have my house paid off by forty and have a million dollars in the bank not too long after. I promised myself I’d start a charity—there were so many causes I wanted to support, I wasn’t sure which direction I’d go, but I was determined to help someone, somehow. I signed up for a golden life but I missed all the fine print.

I didn’t expect to lose my dad after he retired from one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. I never planned to be a whistleblower. Bankruptcy, debt, fear… I didn’t plan for any of that. And I definitely didn’t plan to fall for an assassin who is charming and tender. Linc and I make no sense on paper. But right now, looking into his beautiful icy, hot eyes—it’s clear as day.

Fuck the plan.

Grabbing the notecard, I rip it straight down the center. I line up the pieces and do it again. I don’t stop until I have pink confetti on the table. I act nonchalant as I brush the pieces to the edge of the table.

“I hope the waiter picks the lobster ravioli. It sounds divine.”

“Eden,” Linc says.

I dump the confetti pieces on an empty bread plate and push it to the edge of the table so the waiter can collect it and dispose of it.

“Would you be open to sharing dessert? Because if we want the chocolate soufflé, we have to order it now. I’m assuming they make it from scratch, which will take a while.”

“Eden?” Linc asks again, nodding toward the bread plate littered with pink notecard scraps. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, it doesn’t matter what the answers are—I’m in. If you want to be with me, I want to be with you too. No conditions.”

“It’s not just kids. I’m not allowed to get married, either.”

I shrug. “Changing my name always seemed like such a hassle anyway.”

“I’ll have to leave a lot.”

“As long as you come back.”

“I’d have to move you sometimes, for my peace of mind. A new home every few months.”

“I’m good with travel.”

He shakes his head at me, seemingly in amazement. Bring it on, Linc. I’ve got an answer for everything.

“Your life with me wouldn’t be normal.”

“I’m an organizational leadership consultant for an off-the-record division of the FBI that unofficially employs assassins. Yesterday, I conducted a very illegal interrogation and helped stop a massacre by hand-feeding a criminal Doritos. My home is riddled with hidden cameras to catch a stalker in the wind who likely wants information about a terrorist scheme I helped uncover. And last but not least, last night, I let you fuck my cleavage until you came on my chest. I don’t think I do normal anymore.”

Without his gaze leaving mine, Linc raises two fingers in the air. Our waiter appears out of nowhere, likely more motivated by the promise of a very large tip.

“Yes, sir?” He’s sweating while holding a large tray in one hand filled with plates for another table. Linc smiles at me wide, his perfect teeth gleaming against the dim lights of the very romantic Italian restaurant.

“Will you please put in an order for a chocolate soufflé? My girlfriend wants dessert.”