Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents 3)

Maybe it would be the time for them to start fresh. To start over.

Cale walked away.

Slade began to whistle.

And if Sydney didn’t want him...if she refused the offer that he made to her, then, while she was all alone in the swamps that she foolishly loved so much, he’d kill her.

Her mistake to leave all the protection around her. Sydney had always thought she was so smart and tough.

When, all along, he’d been the one pulling the puppet strings.

He walked down the sidewalk, still whistling and planning for his reunion in Baton Rouge.

* * *

THE HOUSE WAS too quiet. Sydney stood in her living room, far too aware of the silence that surrounded her. She was back in Baton Rouge, back in the house that she’d loved so much, for so long.

The place seemed to be filled with memories of Gunner.

She turned toward the large window in her den. If Slade showed up—when, not if—she was supposed to keep him in front of that window. Because this position would give Gunner a perfect shot at the other man.

Exhaling slowly, she looked out of that window. The edge of the swamp and twisting cypress trees stared back at her. She saw no sign of Gunner, but she could feel him.

Watching.

Protecting.

Cale was out there, as well. Stationed at another watch point and staring down his scope, too. They had the main windows under watch so that they could see into the house.

She’d taken care of making sure they could hear what was happening inside the house. A bit of surveillance equipment, carefully hidden, and they were linked into the audio feed. They’d hear anything that would be said tonight.

Logan would also see what went down, since he was in the surveillance van hidden in her garage, and he was watching every single thing that happened on the monitors in there.

Their intel had already told them that Slade had hopped a plane out of D.C. He was coming after her; it was just a matter of time.

Sydney kept staring out of that window.

When she’d first come home, she’d felt Gunner all around her. Remembered the way they’d made love in that house. She could even have sworn that the sheets in her room still carried his scent.

She’d seen the memory of him at the kitchen table—Gunner staring at her with his dark gaze, watching her so hungrily.

He was everywhere.

Did he understand how completely he fit into her life?

Headlights appeared in the darkness. Her heart beat a little faster.

Almost showtime.

Almost.

She put her hand on the glass. I’ll be safe, Gunner.

Then she turned away.

* * *

GUNNER WATCHED SYDNEY put her hand on the glass pane. His own hand was curled around the weapon in his hand. He could see her lovely face so perfectly through the scope.