Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) (36 page)

Ryan sat in the chair opposite Isaac
Rhames, fuming as he thought about what the man was responsible for. The hell
he’d put Marissa through for the past year.

The bastard deserved to spend a few
minutes alone with Trace, endure the wrath of the man who clearly loved Ryan’s
sister.

Not that Ryan had any intention of going
easy on the guy. Marissa was, after all, his sister.

“You’d think there’d be more to say,” Z
stated as he casually leaned against the wall, staring at Isaac.

“I’ve told you everything,” Isaac mumbled.

The guy was sporting a black eye and a
pair of handcuffs that kept him secured to the table in front of him. The table
was bolted to the floor, which meant the guy couldn’t get far. The black eye
had come from Ryan. The moment he’d laid eyes on the smug little bastard, he
hadn’t been able to hold himself back. Z had allowed him to get a couple of
swings in but had promptly pulled him back. It had been Z’s touch that had
drawn him out of his anger.

Not that Ryan had any intention of
reflecting back on what it had felt like when Z’s big arms had circled his
chest, pulling him away from Rhames.

Nope. Not happening.

“Not everything,” Z stated harshly. “Who
the fuck sent you to us?”

“I told you. I work with—”

Ryan launched to his feet and slammed his
palms down on the table directly in front of Isaac. “We know who you’ve worked
with. I want to know who hired you.”

According to Isaac, he’d been working with
a hired gun named Barry—last name supposedly unknown—feeding him information on
Marissa’s whereabouts for the past year.

“Barry’s not behind this,” Z insisted.
“Who is?”

Isaac’s eyes dropped to the table. “I’ll
tell you, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“No fucking promises,” Ryan shouted.
“You’re personally responsible for the attempts on my sister’s life. Man up and
accept the fact that you fucked up. You screwed people. You’re a goddamn snitch
and a fucking mole. You don’t get promises. You don’t get a fucking thing!”

Ryan stood up straight and took a deep
breath before pacing to the far side of the room.

“Dan Duchein.”

Ryan didn’t immediately turn around. He’d
expected to hear the name, but he’d needed confirmation that the man they’d finally
pinned this on was in fact the one they needed to go after. Fucking with the
ATF wasn’t ideal, but if they had a rogue agent, then it didn’t really matter.

“You worked for him?” Z asked.

“Yeah,” Isaac stated softly. “But I knew
him before that. We were … friends. I was between a rock and a hard place. He
got me a job, covering up some of my … past.”

“What past?” Ryan asked, turning to face
Isaac.

“A … hit and run.”

“Someone die?” Z questioned abruptly.

Isaac merely nodded.

Fuck. Not only was the asshole a snitch,
he was a murderer.

“Alcohol involved?” Ryan asked, not sure
he really wanted to know the details.

Again Isaac nodded.

“So you killed someone and Duchein covered
it up for you?”

“Not really. Yes. Actually, he did. But
then he blackmailed me,” Isaac stated, his tone harder than before. “He fucking
blackmailed me. Said he’d turn me in if I didn’t do something for him.”

“Which was find Marissa?” Ryan couldn’t
believe this shit.

“Yeah. He told me he’d doctor my resume,
help me to get a job with Sniper One.”

Son of a bitch. They’d walked right into
this.

“But I was the one to call and tell Bryce
that they had found her in Oklahoma,” Isaac said in a rush. “I wanted to warn
you.”

“You think that makes it fucking better?”
Z growled. “You had a battle with your conscience and you think that fucking
makes it better?”

Ryan sensed Z’s outrage. The man was
visibly holding himself back, his hands balled into fists at his sides as he
stared down at Isaac. Ryan knew just how he felt.

“What’re you gonna do with me?” Isaac
asked, a hint of fear in his dark eyes.

“Don’t know yet,” Ryan told him
truthfully. “But tonight, you’ll have one last job.”

“What’s that?” Isaac inquired curiously.

“You’re gonna show your true colors. Be
the rat that you are,” Ryan stated firmly, glaring at the other man.

“How do I do that?”

“Trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”

With that, Ryan nodded at Z and walked out
of the room. Z followed close behind, locking the steel door that would keep
Isaac secure until they were ready to let him out.

“What now?” Z asked, his emotions once
again locked tightly away.

“I’m gonna call Clay. He’ll come over and
keep an eye on him until the party. We’ll have Clay and Tanner escort Rhames to
Max’s. And from there, you’ll find out what happens at the same time I do.”

Z nodded. “Good plan. I look forward to
it.”

Ryan fought the urge to smile. He liked
Z’s intensity, the emotion he kept locked up tight until it was necessary, but
most importantly, he liked the man’s loyalty.

He liked it probably a little too much.

Tuesday afternoon

“I wouldn’t have said this before today,
but I think this hidin’ out thing is good for you,” Courtney acknowledged with
a grin as she pulled Marissa’s hair up into some complicated cluster on the top
of her head.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Marissa smiled
back.

“Okay, fine. Maybe it’s all the time
you’re spendin’ with my brother that’s puttin’ the color back in your cheeks.”

That color Courtney was referring to
chose
that exact moment to flood
her cheeks as Marissa blushed profusely. It was an automatic reaction to the
mention of Trace. That was the only logical explanation.

Courtney had come over two hours ago, to
spend some time with Marissa as well as help her get ready for the party at Max
Adorite’s house. Upon her arrival, Trace had taken the opportunity to go to the
office, leaving her in Courtney’s capable hands, while Conner—as an added
precaution—sat patiently in the living room. To her utter shock, Trace even
kissed her prior to leaving, right in front of his brother and his sister.
Marissa had blushed then, too.

“So, is this serious?” Courtney
questioned, meeting Marissa’s gaze in the mirror while she finished sticking
bobby pins through Marissa’s hair.

Marissa nodded.

“I thought so. For what it’s worth, I’m
happy for you. I know you’ve loved my brother for a long time.”

“Loved?” Marissa asked, unable to hide her
smirk.

“Call it a crush or whatever you want. I
know better than that. You’ve loved my brother since you were fourteen years
old. Has he told you he loves you yet?”

Marissa dropped her gaze to the vanity in
front of her, shaking her head slightly.

“He will,” Courtney said, a wealth of
conviction in her tone. “He loves you, too. I hope you don’t doubt that.”

The truth was, Marissa did doubt that, but
she knew that was just her insecurities rioting. She’d known Trace her entire
life, knew more about him than he probably knew about himself, and yes, if she
closely inspected his responses to her, she knew he cared for her. More than just
friends or acquaintances. More than mere lovers.

But Marissa was doing her best not to
focus on that aspect of her life at the moment. Her goal was to help Sniper 1
out this guy who was trying to kill her so that she could move on with her
life. Until that was taken care of, she knew everything she did, everything she
wanted was on hold.

“And ’
Rissa
,
we’re gonna catch this guy.”

Marissa lifted her gaze, meeting
Courtney’s once more. “That we are,” she said assertively. “Tonight.”

“There. Your hair’s all done.” With a pat
on the top of her head, Courtney took a step back, and Marissa got to her feet,
admiring her best friend’s handiwork.

“I hope you don’t expect me to be able to
do that to
your
hair.”

“Nope,” Courtney said, her face glowing.
“I’m wearin’ mine down tonight. Just need a few minutes with a curling iron and
I’ll be good to go.”

“So, what dress did you bring me?” Marissa
asked, staring at the two bags hanging from the top of the closet door. From
the minute Courtney had arrived, Marissa had been curious as to what her friend
had chosen for her, but sneaky as she was, Courtney had refused to let her see,
insisting it was a surprise.

“I’ll show you the shoes, first,” Courtney
told her, unzipping the duffel bag she’d brought with her.

Marissa watched as Courtney retrieved two
boxes from the bag. She set them beside one another on the bed and then turned
to Marissa.

“You’ll thank me for this later. I
promise.”

Uh-oh. Marissa wasn’t sure she liked the
sound of that.

Courtney opened one of the boxes and
pulled out a pair of… “Oh, my God. Are those Jimmy Choos?”

“They are. And you’re gonna look stunning
in them.”

“If I don’t break my neck.” Courtney gave
her a
get real
look, but Marissa
shrugged it off. “What? I haven’t exactly had any reason to dress up in quite a
long time. I’m not sure I even remember how to walk in those things.”

“It’s like ridin’ a bike. You never
forget.”

Honestly, Marissa liked the red, strappy
heels. They were both feminine and sexy. But that made her wonder what the
dress looked like.

Courtney obviously read her expression
because she walked to the closet and took down one of the two dress bags,
unzipping it as she moved back to where Marissa was still standing.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a re—”

“Red it is,” Courtney exclaimed merrily.
“And you’re gonna look so freakin’ hot in it.”

Lord.

Marissa stared at the red number, not sure
whether or not it qualified as an actual dress since there wasn’t much to it.
But she had to admit it was sexy as hell. Now as for if it would look sexy on
her, that
was yet to be seen.

“Let me guess, yours is black,” Marissa
said, glaring at her friend.

“Of course. Wanna see?”

Marissa nodded, glancing back at the red
dress. She wondered what Trace would think when he saw her in that.

“He’s gonna think you’re hot as hell,”
Courtney said as she moved toward her with the other clothing bag.

“I know I didn’t say that out loud,”
Marissa declared.

“Didn’t have to. I can read your mind.”

Marissa laughed. Sometimes it seemed as
though Courtney
could
read her mind,
but more than likely, she was just basing her assumptions off the way Marissa
blushed every time Trace’s name was mentioned.

“What do you think?” Courtney asked.

Marissa turned to see the exquisite yet
barely there black dress that Courtney held up.

“If the plan is to use you as a
distraction, I’d say it’s gonna work like a charm.”

Courtney’s face lit up. “You know us so
well.”

“Considering you’re my brother’s date, and
it’s no secret that you’re not equipped with the right parts to please him, I
figured that was the plan.”

“My goal is to get close to Duchein.”

Marissa swallowed hard. “Court, I don’t
think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s the only option we have.”

“Why not Max? Why don’t you get close to
him? Maybe work that angle.”

Surprisingly, it was Courtney’s turn to
blush. Then she shook her head adamantly. “Max and I … we… That won’t work.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Marissa
questioned, all joking aside.

Courtney’s white-gray eyes penetrated
Marissa. “Max and I kinda have a history together.”

“Oh, my God. Why didn’t I know this?”

“No one knows,” Courtney admitted. “And
don’t you dare go runnin’ your mouth.”

Marissa harrumphed. Too many secrets had
been kept thus far; she wasn’t sure this was a good idea. If Trace and Ryan
knew Courtney had been involved with… “What do you mean by
history
exactly?”

Courtney waved her off, peering down at
the sparkling black dress. “Nothin’ serious. But that’s old news. Tonight, I’ve
got my sights set on Duchein.”

The seriousness of the situation hit
Marissa like a ton of bricks. “Will you be armed?”

“Of course,” Courtney admitted. “I’m
always armed. That’s what these are for.” Courtney held up a pair of thigh-high
stockings and a lace thigh holster.

“Where’s mine?” Marissa asked.

“With that dress,” Courtney said, glancing
at the red silk, “you won’t have room to hide anything, let alone a gun. But
don’t worry. You’ll be with Trace the entire time.”

Marissa dropped to the edge of the bed,
her shoulders drooping. “I don’t think this is a good idea. What if someone
gets hurt?”

“No one’s gonna get hurt. We’re gonna go
in, do our jobs, nail this shithead, and be on our way.”

Right. Like that plan hadn’t backfired for
them before.

□«»□«»□«»□

Trace had taken the opportunity to check
in with RT after Courtney had arrived at the warehouse to keep Marissa
company
. During that brief conversation, they had agreed to
meet at the Sniper 1 office and from that moment forward had spent nearly two
hours going over the plans for the evening once Colby, Conner, and Z had joined
them.

Using a set of building plans Austin had
managed to locate, they had successfully pinpointed all the exits that they
could find. At least the ones that were on the pages they had in front of them.
As RT had mentioned, there were likely other exits, secret tunnels, and
ultimately a bolt hole that the Adorites could use if necessary, although they
didn’t believe that detail was printed on any builder drawings. If nothing
else, the Adorites were smart and prepared for anything.

“Any word on Rhames?” Colby asked after
they’d hashed out the details for the fourth time.

RT instantly glanced at Z and the hair on
the back of Trace’s neck stood on end.

When neither man said anything, Trace
asked, “Where is he?”

“In a secure location,” Z confirmed.

Trace stared down his roommate, pissed
that he’d been kept in the dark on this mission. “Where?”

“Where no one will find him until this is
over. Not the good guys
or
the bad
guys,” RT explained. “He’s not talkin’, and that’s a whole other issue we’ll
have to deal with. When the time is right.”

Trace made sure RT saw his anger at being
kept out of the loop. He wanted a shot at this asshole, five minutes alone with
him to show him what he thought about traitors. Fact was, he would make damn
sure the guy didn’t walk without a limp for the rest of his miserable fucking
life.

There was a knock on the door, and then it
opened, Dom and Austin joining them in the conference room. Dom stepped up to
the table, gave the papers a brief once-over, and then looked up with a shit-eating
grin. “We came bearing gifts.”

Austin tossed a small box to each of them,
and only when they were opening them did he start to explain what they were.
“Our newest invention. Two-way, inner-ear radios. No one will be able to see
them, and they’re not detectable by any electronic device. Best of all, they’re
all controlled by these.”

Another box came flying toward Trace. He
caught it in midair, flipping open the lid and glimpsing the impressive
Luminox
watch inside.

“Nice,” Z said. “Must’ve made a nice slice
in the budget to get approval for these.”

“Only the best for the best,” Dom said.
“And we’ve modified them to work with the transmitters. There’s a button on the
side that’ll activate them.”

“Very double-oh-seven of you,” Colby
stated with a chuckle.

“Don’t lose ’em.”

“I assume they’ve been thoroughly tested?”
RT asked.

“Of course,” Austin confirmed. “We damn
sure wouldn’t send you out on a mission—especially this one—without knowing for
sure they won’t fail you.”

Everyone seemed content with that
knowledge, their agreement in the various grunts that followed. Trace removed
the watch from the box and secured it around his wrist. As for the earpiece …
he wasn’t sure what the hell he would do with that. Chances were, he was going
to lose the damn thing.

“On the band, you’ll find a place to store
the transmitter,” Dom said, obviously reading Trace’s mind. “But remember, if
it ain’t in your ear, it won’t make a damn bit of difference.”

Trace smiled but then placed the
transmitter in the compartment Dom was referring to.

“Well, I’m out. I’ve gotta get ready,”
Trace stated. Looking at RT, he followed with, “Meet you at my place at eight?”

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

“And you
three’ll
be in place?” Trace asked the others.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

By the time Trace made it back to the
warehouse, it was going on seven thirty. He only had half an hour before go time,
but he only needed ten minutes to get ready. That included putting on the
monkey suit that Courtney had informed him he’d be wearing.

Once inside his place, Trace was greeted
with silence, both the living room and the kitchen empty, but as he traipsed
toward his bedroom, he heard giggling coming from the other side of the guest
room door, so he figured Marissa and Courtney were finishing with their
preparations. He’d never understood why it took women so damn long to get
ready, and he certainly wasn’t about to question it now.

Without hesitating, he quickly shaved and
showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed, returning to the living room in…
Trace glanced down at the military-grade watch he still had on his wrist. Well,
look at that. It’d taken him fifteen minutes, so he’d been wrong.

The next thing he knew, there was a knock
at the door. He pulled it open to allow RT in.