Burn: a Romantic Military Suspense novel (a Deep 8 novel) by Kenzie Macallan

Author:Kenzie Macallan [Macallan, Kenzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steel Butterfly Press
Published: 2022-07-17T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Declan

The ride back to the hotel is cloaked in silence with a red mist of anger filling the air inside the car. Liv crosses her arms, embedding her fingernails into her upper arm. Her mouth draws a tight line as she avoids making eye contact with me.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s best I call Neil and end the op. You might have a shot at keeping your department intact.” I’m desperate to keep the peace and make her happy.

Her head whips around like something out of The Exorcist. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Her F-bombing me is not a good sign. I’m in deep shit with no escape. I would open the door and roll out, but the car is moving way too fast.

“You’re not going anywhere. We’re not aborting anything. I am one hundred percent in on this one. I want that bitch to go down, preferably screaming at the top of her lungs.” Her fingers open and close in fists. “Who does she think she is? I’ve worked for this company for ten years and suddenly I’m thrown to the curb like garbage. How many guns do you have? I might need some knives too.”

“Enough for a small army but you’re not getting any of them. Besides, you’re scaring me. You need to calm down.”

“I. Will. Not. Calm. Down.” Her face is crimson.

Okay, so that was the wrong thing to say. Note to self for the future, don’t tell her to calm down, ever.

“What is the plan, and how do we get to the eighth floor? Do we need explosives?” Her body turns in my direction as the crimson moves to her neck and chest. She makes Attila the Hun look like a beginner.

“You need to slow down. Things like this need a precise plan.”

She burst into tears, holding her face in her hands and leans into my shoulder. For the love of God, I’m going to need a motorboat to navigate these waters. Holding her to me, I let her cry it out. I feel offering any words of comfort would not be in my best interest. I could lose my balls. I’m in uncharted waters without a life jacket.

We pull up to the hotel and she peers up at me with a mascara-streaked face. I wipe the black smears away with my thumb. Her nose is red, and her eyes are bloodshot and swollen.

“Tell me we’re going to bring her down,” she begs.

“There is a plan, but not the one you mapped out thirty seconds ago.” I go for some levity.

She leans on me in the elevator as we ride up to the suite. I get her settled on the bed, stripping her out of her dress and pulling off her shoes. I tuck her in under the sheets and go to the bathroom to grab a washcloth.

I wipe the makeup off her face as she sits against the headboard in a semi-catatonic state.

“I need face moisturizer.”

“What?” I’m stunned this is at the top of her to do list.

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