Chapter Ninety-Four

Angel was ready.

Scratch that—they were ready. Because she had a partner for this job. Possibly the most important job of her life.

Over the past few days, she’d tried again and again to talk Colton out of coming with her. But he was unshakable. It didn’t help that she understood. If their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t have backed down, either.

It was almost fun seeing how much he enjoyed being a part of the plan. He seemed to come alive. Colton had all their supplies packed, and with her help he’d even used Google Maps to route their trip.

“Deb next door is going to watch Pudge and pick up my mail,” he said while standing in the kitchen going over their gear. “Am I forgetting anything?”

To anyone else, it might have looked like they were planning a different kind of trip. But instead of packing beach towels, they were checking rounds of ammo.

She smiled at his honest-to-God list of things he was checking off. Take out the trash was right after pack bulletproof vests. Each had a little checkmark next to it.

She shook her head indulgently. “I think you’ve covered everything.”

“When I was a DEA agent, I didn’t have a home and a pet to be responsible for,” he said, a tad defensively. “Which isn’t a bad thing. I’m still one hundred percent in the game. Now that I know my dog is taken care of.”

As often as Colton complained about his mundane life, she could see how much he valued it. She had to admit, she enjoyed the quiet home life as well. It was something she’d wanted for a long time, but every time she’d considered leaving Task Force Phoenix, another job would come up that needed her skillset.

She could never turn her back on Thorne when he needed her. Not after what he’d done to give her a decent life. At twenty, she’d been heading down a bad path. She’d been in jail for a month, with almost two years of her sentence left to go. She’d made a lot of mistakes and gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd. But Thorne had given her another chance, and had offered her a home, of sorts. She would never be able to repay him for that.

The last thing to go in the truck was a big bag of snacks. Just like a real road trip. Colton had selected her favorites, and she was touched. They had a long drive ahead of them.

As he checked the back door again and turned off the lights, she swallowed. This wasn’t a vacation. This was a mission.

A dangerous mission.

To kill or be killed.