Dylan Foxx would need to be eliminated.
Hmmm...perhaps his elimination would be Rachel’s punishment. When Dylan Foxx died before her, Rachel would realize just what a serious mistake she’d made.
Jack whistled as he headed deeper into the night.
* * *
A POUNDING ON his door woke Dylan hours later. He kicked away the covers and, clad only in a pair of jeans, he stomped toward the door. A quick glance out the peephole showed him the identity of his visitor.
Growling in disgust, Dylan yanked open the door. “What do you want?” he demanded.
The man on his threshold just laughed. “Ah, Dylan, always a pleasure, isn’t it?”
No, it wasn’t. Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he studied Thomas “Dragon” Anthony. He and Thomas didn’t exactly get along, and a few months back, when Dylan had thought that Thomas might be the rogue agent at the EOD, he’d even...shot the guy.
At the time, though, Dylan had been feeling barely sane. He’d just discovered Rachel, covered in blood, and Thomas had been at the scene. He’d ordered the man to stand down, but—
“Don’t worry, man,” Thomas said, golden eyes glinting as he seemed to sense Dylan’s thoughts. “It was only a flesh wound.”
Because Dylan had chosen for it to be. “If I’d wanted you dead,” Dylan growled right back at him, “you’d be in the ground now.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“What’s going on?” Rachel called out.
Dylan glanced over his shoulder. Rachel had just slipped from his bedroom. She had on—
She’s wearing my shirt. One of his old navy T-shirts. It seemed to swallow her, falling all the way down to her knees. She looked sexy as hell in that shirt.
She also had a gun in her hand. His gun.
“What’s happening?” she asked as she crept closer. Her suspicious gaze was on the door. She hadn’t seen Thomas yet.
And, lucky for Thomas, he hadn’t seen her.
“It’s okay,” Dylan said, turning toward her and making sure that he put his body in front of hers. Rachel had some truly gorgeous legs. Long, golden. Perfect.
“You should get dressed,” he told her, aware that his voice sounded a little too thick. “Then come back out so we can talk.”
“I heard voices. I thought you might need me so I grabbed the first thing I saw.”
Hmmm...he wondered...had the first thing been the shirt? Or the gun?
She craned her head so she could see over his shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Thomas?”
“Looking good, Rachel,” Thomas murmured back.
Dylan spun around, a snarl on his lips.
But Rachel laughed. “Well, considering the last time you saw me, I was covered in blood and nearly unconscious on the floor, I guess I do look better.”
Dylan didn’t like to think about that time. The rogue agent had targeted Rachel. Dylan had been so desperate during those long hours while she’d undergone surgery.
So afraid.
Before Rachel, he hadn’t feared anything. She’d changed him, and he wasn’t sure that change was for the better.
“You weren’t the only bloody one,” Thomas told her. “Your trigger-happy team leader made sure I wasn’t a threat.”