Code Name - Revenge (Jameson Force Security 9)

James and I wait patiently as Dozer grabs a frosty bottle and returns to the table. He takes a sip first before setting it down. “Kynan’s been in touch with all law enforcement agencies. The good news is, there’s no active investigation into the shooting this morning. Without victims, the police are closing the case and aren’t bothering with any further interviews of people in the neighborhood.”

“Oh, thank God,” I breathe out, the relief lifting off me so intense I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about that.

Dozer shoots me a smile, but it slips right off. “The FBI has had this syndicate that Borovsky is tied to under surveillance for a long time. They’ve picked up some intel from an informant, and it’s verified that Borovsky is going to enact his right to call for a vendetta against you. I mean… we thought that was what he would do, and those two men showing up this morning was more proof, but it’s apparently official within this Russian sect he works with. That means they will give him whatever resources he needs, despite the fact he’s an escaped fugitive and the subject of an ongoing multistate manhunt.”

“Meaning it’s not just him we have to worry about,” I muse, and Dozer nods.

“Speaking of manhunt.” James picks up his glass, readies it for a sip, but asks, “Any leads on finding him?”

“His face is plastered on local news from New York to Miami. A lot of calls are coming in, though nothing has panned out. But if you follow the trail of tips, they’re moving southward, so he’s definitely coming down here.”

“Which is why it’s best we go to Pittsburgh,” I say. It’s not an idea I’m crazy about as I have to leave my job—although they’ve been very understanding—but I think it’s the smartest move we can make. If Borovsky is here, I have to be elsewhere.

“The police are talking to Jess’s friends and coworkers, making sure they understand what’s going on. They could be approached for information.”

For the first time since being freaked out over Dozer shooting that man this morning, I feel a panic attack coming on. “They’ll go after my friends? Coworkers? What about the kids? Will they put protection on them?”

Those last words come out so hysterically, my voice cracks.

Dozer is up from his chair and squatted beside mine in the blink of an eye. He takes my hands in his. “Hey… deep breaths. They’re not going to be in danger. More likely they’ll be watched, and maybe approached casually for information, but it’s highly unlikely anyone would be strong-armed.”

“You mean kidnapped and tortured for information,” I choke out with tears stinging. All of a sudden, this got very bad. Before, it was just me, Mom, and Thea in danger. But there are so many others I care about, particularly the kids at the community center where I teach art.

“Deep breaths,” Dozer says softly again, and I look at him, wild-eyed. He inhales slowly, gaze pinned on me in a silent demand I follow suit. He exhales and squeezes my hands. When he inhales again, I nod and suck air deep into my lungs along with him. Closing my eyes, I let it out in a long, expelling breath.

He makes me repeat this five more times until I open my eyes and stare into his. I feel better. Looking at him, I draw on his strength and determination.

“Okay?” he asks.

I nod.

Dozer stares at me intensely and vows, “The police are going to be watching the people close to you. They’re hoping to gain their own information that way. Perhaps tail someone who would approach one of your friends. They’ll be more than fine. And I swear to you that I will never let any harm come to you, Thea, or your mother.”

His expression is fierce and unguarded, and deep within those chocolate-brown eyes, I see the truth of his feelings.

I recognize the naked truth that he’s not attempting to hide.

Dozer loves me.

Not just as a friend, but as a man loves a woman. I already know he loves Thea as his own daughter, and he’s loved my mother as his own since his died.

But how did I not recognize this romantic, unyielding love before?

Was it because I was simply too stupid to understand it?

I know I certainly wondered why we never took that step across friendship lines. I always told myself I didn’t want to ruin the relationship. It was a coward’s way of making sure that if Dozer didn’t have the same feelings I did, I wouldn’t get hurt.

“How come you two never dated?” James asks, and the question is so shocking that Dozer and I quickly pull apart. I draw my hands onto my lap, and he shuffles backward to resume his seat.

I glance at his father, and there’s a knowing expression on his face. Just watching that exchange between us—strong words and fierce protectiveness from his son, staring at each other way past the end of the conversation and jumping apart as if zapped by electricity—tells him all he needs to know.