Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“My father knows you.”
“He does?” He rubbed his forehead as if that would jumpstart his memory. “Is his last name Cabrera?”
“It is. Normally I’d use my mother’s last name, but we decided to follow the American tradition of using my father’s last name, instead.”
He had plenty of questions about that little tidbit of info but right now he was more interested in who her father was, not why she was using his last name, a normal tradition for people living in the U.S.
For fuck’s sake, should he even care why?
“I’m pretty sure you worked together.”
“We did?” He wracked his brain trying to remember a fellow DEA agent with the same last name.
“I think it was about eighteen years ago. Luis Cabrera. Remember him?”
Oh fuck.
Crew almost swallowed his tongue and a sharp pain shot through his chest.
How the fuck could he forget? Not the part about working with him—because they did work a case together—but the most important part. Luis Cabrera was now the agency’s principal deputy administrator.
And that was a huge fucking deal.
“You’re right. I know your father. But you’re also wrong. I’m not his age.”
A small smile curved her lips. “Hmm.” She took her time taking in his salt-and-pepper hair and beard. “You look like it.”
Jesus Christ. “I went through a rough divorce. Gotta go.” He began hoofing it away from the building and out to the parking lot.
She followed him, somehow managing to stay close on his heels even with her much shorter legs. “I heard your divorce was ugly, but wasn’t it years ago? You haven’t recovered yet? Are you still pining away for your ex?”
“I’m already regretting this,” he muttered, lengthening his strides, hoping to leave her in the dust. “I grayed early,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“From the divorce?”
“From pain in the ass women in general.” And she certainly qualified as one of those.
Luckily he had parked in a visitor spot near the building. That meant he could escape more quickly. He stopped next to his girl and grabbed his helmet.
It hit him then. Who she really was. Like a two-by-four across his forehead.
His chest tightened painfully, and he spun on her. “I not only remember your father, I remember you.” That might have sounded like an accusation, but he didn’t give a shit.
Oh yeah, he remembered her now.
At the time he met her, she’d been an outgoing, mouthy ten-year-old. Also, at the time, she was cute. With pigtails.
The woman before him was no longer cute. And she no longer had pigtails.
He rubbed at the burn growing in his chest.
Her eyebrows rose when she asked, “We’ve actually met before?”
Her attempt at sounding clueless was a joke.
One he didn’t find funny.
“Mmm.” And now, even though she was a damn adult, he felt like a dirty old man for checking her out earlier.
If she was ten at the time—he did a quick figuring in his head—she now had to be twenty-eight or close to it.
Old enough, but also so very not.
He hoped he had masked the panic from his face well enough. He slammed the brakes on his spinning brain. “How’s your father?”
“Busy. But he always makes time for me and I’m sure he’ll be interested in hearing that I’ll be working with someone he knew and worked with personally.”
Just fucking great.
One wrong move and she could run to her father. A man who led an agency consisting of thousands of special agents and intelligence analysts across both the United States and the world.
That man.
A man who could quickly put Crew’s balls in a vice and crush them.
Williams fucked him and not in a way Crew normally enjoyed. And that asshole probably knew all of the info Crew only learned and decided to keep it to himself.
He swung a leg over his girl and settled on the seat.
“That’s your ride?”
He glanced over to see Cabrera still standing a few feet away. “Yeah.”
“Pretty risky. I’d expect someone in your age bracket to ride a trike instead. No problems with your balance?”
Christ. He was only forty-three! Just a distinguished forty-three. “No walker or cane needed yet.”
“Impressive. Nothing like holding onto your youth by your fingernails.”
“Definitely going to regret this,” he grumbled under his breath.
“The day’s only half over. What do you want me to do for the rest of it, boss?”
For fuck’s sake. “Do you have the address for the plant?”
“I do. Williams gave it to me when he gave me my assignment.”
“Report there at 0800 sharp tomorrow morning. Do you live close, or are you going to need to find a place nearby?”
“Since I just transferred from Virginia, the agency set me up at the SpringHill Suites temporarily.”
“Where?”
“Near here.”
Crew shook his head. “We’re based out of Rockvale. I suggest finding a place closer.”
“Have any suggestions?”
He strapped on his brain bucket and made sure it was secure. “Nope. Your first assignment is to figure it out.” He pushed the starter and somehow managed to avoid a sneer when he said, “Welcome to the team.”