Rescuing Lily (Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists) by Ellie Masters

Author:Ellie Masters [Masters, Ellie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JEM Publishing
Published: 2021-07-19T23:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Lily

“What the hell is he doing?” My gaze once again travels the expanse of Wilder’s calm exterior. “How does he just sit there?” My comments are aimed at Harry who’s been in and out of that room half a dozen times in the past three hours.

As for Wilder, he’s easy on the eye. I can’t keep from staring, and I secretly want him to look me right in the eye, as if there really is some metaphysical, spiritual, cosmic connection binding us together.

But Wilder never once looks up.

Not that he’d see me if he could, but still …

I can’t shake the feeling he knows I’m here. He’s certainly been asking for me.

Harry moves closer to the observation window. Hands thrust deep in his pockets, shoulders slumped, his hair is a mess from dragging his fingers through it over the past several hours. He looks more tired than I feel.

It’s O’dark-thirty and we’ve been at this all night. After Harry went to speak to Wilder, that very first time, he tried any number of tactics to get Wilder to speak. Each and every time, the only words Wilder spoke were, “I will only speak to Lily.”

“He only wants you.” Harry’s head cocks to the side. He twists around, brows furrowed, eyes pinched, pensive as hell. “How serious are things between the two of you?”

I will only speak to Lily.

Nothing unless we’re talking about the indescribable metaphysical, spiritual, cosmic connection which makes the very air crackle.

Thank God for the one-way glass. I can’t face him after what I did. Arresting a man after you have sex with him has to be in some playbook of things a woman should never do.

Regardless of my feelings, those are the only words Wilder says.

That’s not the end of it.

He hasn’t touched the water. He refused the food. He hasn’t asked to use the facilities, even though I’ve been more times than I can count over the past few hours.

Granted, I escape to the Ladies’ Room because it’s the only safe place to have a meltdown around here. None of the men would dare follow me in there, and I’d be mortified if they did.

Special operatives aren’t supposed to lose their shit, but I lost mine. I lost it and then some. Not proud to say it, but I sat against the wall, not giving a care to the dirty floor, curled up my knees, and cried my eyes out.

I can’t stop seeing the bullet rip through Peter’s throat. Peter-the-Prick, who turned out not to be such a bad guy in the end. He apologized and encouraged me. Then he died.

He died right before my eyes. As did Neil, Devon, Mark, and Rico. Lucas and Mateo cling to life, but I’m not at the hospital with them. I haven’t even called their wives.

Do they know their husbands will never come home?

I know someone’s contacted the families, but I need to reach out. I was there. I know their wives. I’ve played with their kids.

But I also need to be here.

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