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  Colin reached into hell to save the first soul, lifting a woman so weak she couldn’t grip him, passing her behind until they’d found every survivor and confirmed the deceased were dead, different from those just dying.

  Bodies lined the deck. Survivors awaited medical transport inside, and Colin walked to Ryder who had been quiet for the last part of the op.

  “You okay?” He leaned against the rails that Ryder perched on. The sky had turned purple as the faintest sliver of the sun threatened them with the break of dawn.

  “Nope.”

  Colin nodded. Ryder’s wife, Victoria, had been trafficked years ago when she fell into a dire situation while working a private investigation job. “You will be.”

  “I know.” Ryder nodded slowly. “I just want to get home and wrap my arms around something good.”

  “Soon enough.” Colin hadn’t had that kind of special bond. The job always held that role in his life, giving back to him as much as he sacrificed. But Ryder had it right today. Colin couldn’t imagine what could soothe today’s misery. The job he relied on had been nothing more than a wicked sadist.

  “Did you touch base with Javier?” Ryder asked.

  Colin nodded. They watched out for their own, and Javier had spent more of his life fighting human traffickers than most. His sister, Adelia, had been trafficked. It wasn’t until many years later that they’d found her—in the middle of a gunfight. Funny, how a crazy memory at an awful time could bring a half-hearted smile to his face. “He said something about Sophia, and my mind cut him off after that.”

  Ryder chuckled. “I’d probably do the same thing if that crazy, tattooed fucker was my brother-in-law.”

  Colin smiled, almost unsure how it was possible to do so on this hell ship after what they’d just seen. “Kinda love the guy though. Crazy family or not.”

  In the distance, three choppers appeared as dots in the brightening sky, one double-bladed Chinook flanked by two Blackhawks. That was their ride back to the States and a sure signal that the medical team should arrive any minute by boat.

  Colin checked in with the second team. They planned to stay with the recovered women, and while Delta normally would see an op through, one the men from Titan’s main team had a bachelor party on the agenda. They’d all be there to support Jax and his soon-to-be wife Seven, and Delta would be stateside in less than twenty-four hours.

  The helos appeared larger over the ocean, and Colin caught sight of what had to be a medical ship. Would he be in the mood for Jax and Seven’s pre-wedding party? It wasn’t as if their wedding was this weekend. The idea of crossing the globe, heading home, getting shut eye, only to wake up and head to Iowa… He grew more tired thinking about it.

  Then again… Where there was Seven, there were her friends—not the Mayhem Motorcycle Club people that hung around her but Ryder’s wife, Victoria, and Javier’s sister, Adelia. There was something he could appreciate about women who could shoot or had shot at him, Victoria being a trained investigator, and Adelia trying to blow his brains out the first time Colin had met her.

  “What about you?” Ryder asked. “Don’t forget you’re not infallible.”

  “I won’t, and it’ll screw with my head too.”

  “Who’s going to fix yours?”

  Adelia. He shook his head, almost laughing at the idea. He didn’t know her. Not really. The idea of spending time with his sister’s husband’s sister sounded far too close to home. Her name popped to mind because of the timing of his thoughts and Ryder’s question.

  Colin dragged in a deep breath to forget about the woman who’d caught him off guard but was reminded of the stench he couldn’t clear from his nostrils.

  “There’s a face I haven’t seen before.” Ryder swayed against a rusted wall. “I wouldn’t blame you. After a job like this, everyone needs someone to come home to.”

  “My team.” He knocked Ryder on the shoulder and laughed. “I might not like to cuddle, but I’m still kinda cute.”

  Ryder laughed too. “You’re really married to the job, aren’t you?”

  Yeah, he really was.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The debriefing room at Titan HQ awaited Delta team, but first they had to unpack and shower off. The process, from the time Delta was wheels down, loaded into their transport vehicles from the airstrip and brought to headquarters, where they filed into the locker room, cleaned up and then headed upstairs to sit around a conference table, was needed as they transitioned from hell to civilian life.

  One table was strewn with tactical gear bags and unloaded weapons clips. Other tables were covered in sub-machine guns, side-arms, and breaching shotguns for tight-quarter conflict. They needed cleaning, as did their dirty clothes that required more than one go-round in the laundry. But it wasn’t the rank air that stank worse than a football locker room or the salty smell of the Indian Ocean from half a world a way that Colin couldn’t get out of his nose. It was the heinous memories they brought home.

  Those had nothing on the grit that had dried in their hair, leaving a film over their skin. Delta had seen a lot over the years, and never once had Colin seen humans packaged as cargo on a container ship with no hopes of seeing light or humane conditions for weeks.

  “Hey.” Grayson’s straining voice broke the heavy silence. “Who’s getting excited?” He clapped twice then slapped Ryder on the back. “Bachelor party, here we come.”

  Ryder lifted his chin, grinning like a sport. “It’ll be fun, mate.”

  Colin rubbed his hand across his forehead. The salty, gunpowder-heavy grime itched under his fingers. “So long as he smells better.”

  “Think we all need to hit the shower, or Victoria will turn us away,” Ryder added.

  The door unexpectedly opened, and the weighty pound of boots followed. Jared Westin powered through the room, picking his way around their dropped gear without acting as though he noticed they’d made the way impossible.

  “And that’s why the dude runs Titan,” Grayson said, half-laughing.

  Javier tossed an empty go-bag at his chest. “If you’re impressed that the guy didn’t fall on his ass walking down a hall, you needed more sleep on the way back.”

  “Think I can’t hear you, assholes?” Jared boomed before the door at the end of the locker room slammed.

  A round of “ah shit!” erupted, and Javier threw his arms up, surrendering to his screw-up. “All right, all right.”

  “Why’d he come down here?” Luke leaned against a wall covered with motivational posters—but Titan Group style—as if Delta team needed a reminder that if they fucked up at work, they’d have to kill or be killed. A little different than most workplaces’ teamwork swag.

  Colin flicked a gaze toward the office where Parker Black, who manned Titan’s war room for ops, had met Brock. They didn’t bother to head upstairs to any of the conference rooms.

  “Maybe there’s another team upstairs using the conference room for pre-wedding activities.” Luke pushed off from the wall. “Someone’s surprising Jax upstairs.”

  Grayson scowled. “With what? Strippers?”

  Ryder’s face twisted. “Yeah, that’d be a good idea.”

  Trace snorted. “If Seven ever heard—”

  “Would they care? Or be…” Javier shrugged. “Never mind. I don’t want to find out.”

  “Can you imagine if one of them walked out of an office, and saw that?” Trace snorted again. “I’d pay more to see their reaction more than I would for a stripper. Nicola and Beth? Sugar?”

  “You think they’d have a problem with strippers?” Grayson asked.

  “No.” Colin shook his head. “I think they’d have a problem that we were dicking around at work. Like right now. We gotta clean up and debrief.”

  “He’s right,” Javier agreed, slapping him on the back. “Because we’re headed to Sweet Hills, Iowa to party.”

  Laughter grew from the team, and Colin closed his eyes, knowing they needed to joke around as much as they nee
ded to get away. He had to shake off what they had seen or Seven and Jax’s weekend would be ruined. It wasn’t a bachelor party, but a joint bachelor-bachelorette throw down. And he had no idea how it would go. Jax’s “side” was military and all-American wholesome, and Seven was neck-deep in a notoriously powerful gang, Mayhem Motorcycle Club. But she was also a mom and baked muffins like no others he’d ever tried.

  For all Colin knew, the weekend could end nothing more than a trap to round up one side of the wedding guests by the other side. Or it could be a lovely, raucous affair. To be determined.

  “I’m going to get some more sleep on the way out there.” Colin grabbed what he needed to shower off.

  At the end of the locker room, just out of sight, the office door opened, and heavy footsteps worked their way toward the team. Brock and Parker flanked Jared, and he paused, giving their team a once-over.

  Boss Man’s dark gaze studied them. “You ready for this weekend?”

  “Counting the minutes for some R and R.” Ryder’s Australian accent came out thicker than normal.

  “Good answer.” Jared turned his humorless visage once more on the team. “I don’t care what you saw or how tired you are. I will see you in Iowa.”

  “Like we’d miss it, Boss Man,” Colin offered for the guys.

  Jared took that as all the proof he needed before leaving without a word. Brock and Parker eyed Colin as though he were in the middle of a test. This had been the nightmare when he was at school: damn near down to his underwear and didn’t know what the questions might be.

  Their hard assessments broke—finally—and they followed Jared, leaving Colin knocked down a few notches.

  “What the hell was that about?” Ryder muttered.

  Colin ran his hand over his face, deliberately missing the question. What was that about… “Yeah, I don’t know.”

  Trace chuckled. “Colin fucked up and doesn’t even know what he did. Sucks to be him.”

  “Dude, shut up. If that could happen to Colin?” Grayson shook his head. “We’re screwed.”

  There was a compliment in there somewhere. Colin knew what Grayson meant, but he also could tell that the whole team saw what he felt. Jared, Brock, and Parker had just put him on notice. They were watching him—for something—and he had no idea what he’d done or how to fix it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Over the years, this bed and all its fluffy pillows and feather-down comforter had become Adelia’s haven. It wasn’t her bed but Victoria’s, and Adelia liked it that way. She could keep her life, the gritty, dark sides of it with the nightmares of where she came from and her hobby-turned-job-turned-obsession of secretly helping women in the worst of circumstances, compartmentalized alongside standard, everyday furniture and bland decorations. Her apartment had personality, but underneath the leftover dishes awaiting the dishwasher and piles of unfolded clothes was nothing more than her dark past.

  This was why Victoria’s picture-perfect, light and fluffy, straight-out-of-a-magazine house had always seemed like the ideal place for girl time.

  Seven, Adelia’s best friend, and Victoria spent an inordinate amount of time in her bed, and this was a slice of heaven in Sweet Hills, Iowa. Adelia even thought that the name Sweet Hills was only worth a damn after she snuggled into bed with her girlfriends.

  “Do you want anything else?” Seven asked Victoria. “I have enough time to make last-minute requests.”

  The Perky Cup, Seven’s coffee shop and bakery had morphed into a wedding-production factory. While it still served the community with the usual coffee and heavenly baked goods, nearly all of Seven’s attention had gone into menu planning for everything in her dream wedding.

  “I don’t think there’s anything left to make that you haven’t made,” Victoria offered gently.

  “I don’t think there are enough people in Sweet Hills to eat everything you’ve made,” Adelia offered, not so gently, but in playful fun.

  Seven giggled and pulled handfuls of her brightly dyed pink hair to cascade over her face. “I can’t help it. I want everything to be perfect.”

  “It will be,” Adelia promised. “You have the two best wedding planners ever.”

  Victoria and Adelia held their hands in the air, wiggling their fingers like they were in grade-school cheerleading practice, and Seven laughed.

  A cell phone buzzed then played a wedding march, and the three of them sat up as Victoria reached across Seven for her phone on the nightstand.

  “Speaking of which, let’s see if Ryder’s with the groom-to-be,” Victoria announced, giggling and giddy.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Seven groaned.

  “Hush.” Victoria touched the speakerphone button. “Hey, baby, you’re on speaker.”

  “Ladies,” Ryder said. “We’re headed back with a day to spare even.”

  “Is Jax with you?” Seven asked.

  “They’re finishing something up. Bet you’ll hear from him soon.”

  They bantered back and forth, joking with him until Ryder jumped off the phone, promising to be on the next flight to Iowa.

  Adelia wondered how much would change when Seven and Jax were finally married. Not much changed when Victoria and Ryder got married, but they’d made a shift with him living in Iowa whenever he wasn’t at work. Jax, too.

  If anything, Ryder and Jax had each gained two close girlfriends in addition to their wives. Adelia had asked both, directly, did either mind that she and Seven lounged on Ryder’s bed or spent tons of time at Jax’s house, and they said it never occurred to them. They wanted their wives to be happy, to be with friends, and never to be lonely, no matter if they were home or away.

  It was that conversation that made Adelia think about the word lonely. How could either couple ever be lonely, even if their spouse traveled? They were never alone. How could Adelia be lonely if she was at the Mayhem compound or with Tex, the man who’d saved her and raised her in her teens, who she still called Pops sometimes? When he deserved it. Even Lenora, his old lady who had always been there, who acted like an unemotional hard ass...

  Adelia was never alone. But that didn’t mean she didn’t get lonely. Right now, she wasn’t lonely because she was with her good friends. But take them away, and there was something missing, something she couldn’t pinpoint or name until maybe now. She could feel lonely in a room of people. That was an odd realization and probably one due to how she was raised before Mayhem and then after. It wasn’t that she was sad or depressed. But maybe she craved an unknown, something to fill a void she didn’t realize existed until she was giggling on Victoria’s bed.

  “What?” Victoria elbowed Adelia in the side. “You don’t think that’s funny?”

  “Sorry, I was counting up how many mini cakes a person could possibly eat to make sure you had it covered.” She winked. “But I don’t know. Maybe an emergency trip is needed to bake again.”

  Seven ran her tongue stud along her top lip. “I won’t even dignify your sarcasm with what we were talking about!”

  “Oh, come on. Tell me what you are saying.”

  “All right. All I said was that they needed to make sure that toys were legal wherever their super-secret honeymoon is because it would be a shame if these two got freaky-deaky and arrested on some random island.”

  “I’ve admitted to nothing,” Seven said. “And even if I did, there are some things that you should not judge.”

  Seven’s cheeks flushed a pink as bright as her hair, and Adelia knew better than to think she was blushing from the topic of conversation. It was the attention on it. This was where Adelia had failed her friends. Here she was, chatting about sex and toys like she knew what the hell she was talking about. And to a certain extent, she did. Her very trusty BOB was a significant part of her sanity. But what they didn’t know, and they would never guess, was that Adelia was still a virgin.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Colin stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and pushed the heels of his hand
s into his eyes. Maybe he was more tired than he realized. He half yawned, half groaned as he wiped away water rivulets dripping from his hair. The showers were running. The guys bantered. Some got dressed. He checked the clock on the wall then pulled open his locker. Fifteen minutes to get upstairs. Easy.

  Colin pulled out a change of clothes and finished toweling off, deciding that a pit stop in the kitchen for a large coffee was needed before debriefing.

  He quickly dressed and ran the towel over his hair before tossing it into a laundry chute.

  “Colin,” Brock’s voice echoed off the locker rooms walls. “Upstairs. Now.”

  Well, shit. Guess he was going to find out what earlier was about—without coffee.

  Trace walked by, slowing at Colin’s row of lockers. “Good luck, buddy.”

  “Thanks, I might need it.” He had no idea what he was walking into. Colin grabbed his phone from the back pocket of his dirty pants, and there was a screen full of notifications. Brock, Jared, Parker, and… his father?

  Dad, he could deal with later. As he hustled upstairs to the war room, he scrolled through Titan group and Delta teams’ leaders. The messages were all the same.

  “Get upstairs.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Hurry the hell up.”

  It wasn’t like they didn’t know where he was. But apparently, it was time sensitive enough to send his boss to the locker room. This didn’t bode well.

  Colin passed through the retina scanner, thumbprint scanner, voice analysis, and used an ID card. The war room door was closed, and here went nothing. With a quick shove, Colin strode in with his shoulders back and chin up, ready to take on whatever came his way.