Roan (The Henchmen MC 17)

Once in a bar in Armenia, once in Russia when I was seconds away from getting an artery tapped by some arms dealers.

Not-Alice.

Also known by a select few as Riva.

It had been years since I had seen her, and age had only worked to give her a more sophisticated air.

She was still black-haired, stunning gray-eyed, tall, fit, shapely. Now maybe just a little wiser, a little less prickly than she had been as a young woman.

Dressed in a white dress that neither clung nor hung loosely, she was crisp and cool and collected.

But her smile was a little lighter than it had been twenty-three years ago.

I guess time did that.

It made many carefree youths bitter and hard with age.

And it made many bitter and hard youths wiser, kinder with the passing of time.

"Riva," I said, shaking my head. "It's been a minute," I added.

"It has. I see you found a place to settle."

"I did. What about you?" There wasn't much of a chance she was still in the field. Espionage was, in general, a young person's game. She had to be closing in on fifty.

"I train now," she told me a little cryptically.

"Train? As in new agents?"

"Yes. Turns out retirement never quite suited me."

"Good for you," I told her, even though getting out had been the best thing for me, in the end. "So did you just so happen to be in Navesink Bank? Watching me..."

"Actually, no. I am here for a reason, but let's just wait two more minutes. I believe your wife is parking her car now."

Tension had me sitting up straighter, not liking being on the radar of my old bosses, even if - by all likelihood - all my actual old bosses were probably long dead by now.

I didn't want to be on anyone's radar now.

Not attached to that old life anyway.

Things were too good.

I didn't want them fucked up.

"What is it with this place?" Mack's voice called as she made her way up from behind Riva. "It's just coffee. But they pile in here like it is... what the hell," she cut off, having gotten to the other side of the table, eyes landing on Riva.

"Well, now that we're all here..." Riva started, smile a little wicked.

"Do you know her?" I asked, ignoring Riva, turning to Mack as she dropped down beside me, brows furrowed.

"I, yeah," Mack agreed, nodding. "That's Michelle. I mean, it's probably not Michelle. But I knew her as Michelle in Jordan. I was working on a runaway case. And, well, watching you," she admitted, shrugging it off. "She's a contract killer."

"Her name isn't Michelle. And she isn't a contract killer," I told her, feeling something swirling in my core, but I couldn't quite pin it down for what it might be.

"God, I am so glad I am out of that life," Mack declared, reaching to take the mug out of my hands, lifting it to take a sip. "You really couldn't trust anyone."

"Well, that is certainly true," Riva agreed, giving Mack a small smile. "Roan here is right. I told you I was Michelle, a contract killer. But, in fact, I was just undercover."

"Oh!" Mack declared, putting it together. "You're a spy."

"Mhmm. Did Roan ever tell us how we met?"

I had.

But I had called her Alice.

Because that was what I was supposed to call her. Because I hadn't known where Riva was in the world, if using her real name might get her in trouble, put her at risk.

"I called her Alice," I told Mack, giving her leg a squeeze.

"He was drowning in bourbon because of a woman he was assigned to run a Romeo game on, but was actually falling for. He was a wreck."

"As much as I enjoy a good puzzle, Riva," I started, watching as her lips curved up high enough to make the sides of her eyes crinkle, "why don't you get to the point."

"Funny thing, traveling the world, meeting people. Running into old ghosts. Imagine how amusing it was to be on a job, and find a pretty girl watching a guy I once knew. And funnier still to find out that this girl was names Mackenzie. Mack. Minasian. As in Armen Minasian. As in the niece I once lectured you to stay away from," she said, watching me. "A woman who was supposed to be dead. A woman who looked at you like she wanted you dead. We got to talking, Mack and I. Over some cocktails. She had a plan for revenge - or so she thought. Really, it was painfully clear she was still in love with you. But anyway. She was letting me know how she had followed you from continent to continent, country to country, trying to track you down."

"Are we getting to the point anytime soon, Riva?" I asked, shaking my head.