“You see that, don’t you?” Mercer pressed. “You see that you aren’t the right one for my daughter.”
He wanted to be. He wanted to be her everything.
“Too violent, too dark and with too much death hanging on you.” Mercer’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t you think I know? You’re just like me.”
No. He didn’t want to be like Mercer.
“We weren’t made to love,” Mercer continued. “We were made to break and destroy.”
Cassidy couldn’t be destroyed. “That’s not happening,” Cale growled.
“You will let her go,” Mercer said. “Because you don’t want her to break.”
Their eyes locked.
“I can pull you from this case—we both know I can.” Ah, there was the Mercer he knew—the cold confidence. The hard threat.
But Mercer was right. He was the EOD. If the guy wanted Cale tossed from the building, he would be. Armed guards would flood upstairs in an instant at his command. They’d toss him into the street.
Then I’d just have to bust my way back inside.
“But I want you working this one,” Mercer continued, surprising him. “Cassidy trusts you. And with her friend’s life at stake, I don’t want Cassidy any more afraid than she has to be.”
Cassidy was already plenty afraid.
“So you can keep working with the team.”
Cale’s eyes were slits. Thanks—I was going to do that anyway.
“But when Genevieve is back, when we have this SOB in custody, then it will be time for you to do the right thing and walk away from Cassidy.”
The right thing.
For her.
For him?
“Are we clear, Agent?” There was no weakness in Mercer’s voice then. It made Cale wonder if there ever had been. Had it just been an act?
Cassidy must have gotten her acting talent somewhere. But unlike Cassidy, Mercer didn’t give away any tells when he lied. The man was an expert at deception.
“Oh, I think you’re being pretty damn clear,” Cale told him. And now it was his turn to be clear. Cale stalked toward the big mahogany desk.
One of Mercer’s brows rose.
Cale wrapped his hands around the edge of the desk and leaned toward Mercer. “I’m not you.”
Mercer blinked.
“So don’t tell me that I am. Don’t tell me what will happen to me or to Cassidy.” He kept his voice level with an effort. “You’re my boss—I get that. But I’m starting to think that coming on board with the EOD was a mistake.”
“Are you, now?”
“Being a free agent worked a whole lot better for me. There was a lot less B.S. to deal with.” Like a father who should have been there for his daughter. He stared at Mercer—glared at him—then said once more, “I’m not you.” Then he turned and walked away.
Because, really, what else was there to say?
* * *
MERCER DIDN’T MOVE as Cale Lane stalked from the room. The agent did have a lot of rage inside him, but Cale was pretty good at containing that rage.
If he hadn’t been so good at that containment, Mercer figured the guy would have taken a swing or two at his jaw.
The door closed behind Cale.
Mercer opened his desk drawer, carefully moved the papers and pulled out the old black-and-white photo that he kept hidden there.
A photo of Marguerite, holding Cassidy when his daughter had been barely a year old.
I deserved those hits.
The past was gone, and no matter how much he wished that he could change things, there was no going back for him.
Things would be different for Cassidy. He’d make sure of it. No matter how many strings he had to pull.
And no matter who he had to hurt.
He put the photograph back in place. The edges were rough. From all the years he’d held that precious memory.
Back then, Cassidy’s eyes had lit with love when she looked at him.
When had she stopped looking at him that way?
At her mother’s grave...
At the grave site, Cassidy’s beautiful gaze had held an accusation. She’d known her mother’s death was his fault.
They’d both known it.
Because he hadn’t been able to give up the job, he’d lost his family.
He shut the drawer and then pressed a button on his phone to contact his assistant. “Get Lancaster up here,” he ordered. Lancaster was one agent who never let emotions slow him down.
Mostly because the guy didn’t seem to have any emotions.
Not like Cale. His eyes burned when he looked at Cassidy.
A few minutes later, a light rap sounded at Mercer’s door. When Drew Lancaster entered, Mercer waved him forward.
“I have a job for you,” he said to the agent.
Drew Lancaster nodded.
I can’t trust Cale, but I can count on Drew.
In the end, Drew would do whatever was necessary. He always did.
Chapter Nine
“How long have you had the tracking device?” The quiet question came from Dr. Tina Jamison as the EOD doctor approached Cassidy. “I’m sorry but—I, uh, wasn’t given full access to your file.” No, of course Mercer hadn’t given her that access. Cassidy rolled her shoulders.
“The current device was implanted about six months ago.” Not that she’d wanted it implanted. But she hadn’t exactly been given a choice.
Dr. Jamison, a petite woman with dark hair, peered up at her from behind the frames of her small glasses. “Sydney checked the signal, and it seems to be operating fine.”
Ah, Sydney. That would be the delicate-looking blonde over in the corner. The one huddled over a computer screen.
The one with the too-assessing gaze that kept sweeping back to Cassidy.
“It is operating perfectly,” Sydney said as she rose. And when she stepped away from the computer, Cassidy finally got a good look at the woman—and her very pregnant body.
Didn’t expect that.
“No matter where you go, I’ll be able to track that signal,” Sydney said with a firm nod. “We can find you.”
Good to know. Because Cassidy was going to that drop.
Genevieve was counting on her.
The door opened behind Dr. Jamison. Gunner hurried inside. Cassidy tensed. She knew Gunner was working out the details of the meeting with Genevieve’s captor and—
And Gunner stopped near Sydney. As she watched, Gunner lightly rubbed his hand over the blonde’s neck.
Sydney’s features softened.
Wow. I didn’t expect that, either.