Game of Dust and Ashes (Book Two in the Covert Operations series)

Twelve

It was in moments like this that I experienced the rare sensation of wishing that I was off doing this by myself. Like I had before I'd met Cedric and joined the GCCO. When my days were spent with guarding stupid, vapid heiresses. At least then I hadn't had to worry about whether I could trust the people I was working with. We all had the same goal.

Now, I had no clue what the goals of my friends were. It seemed like they were trying to protect me but there was the voice in the back of my head that told me they'd had the same training I'd had. We'd all learned how to lie and cheat and steal to get what we needed. Was I really so naïve to assume that those same rules didn't apply to me?

I booked a room in the Lazy Dayz Motel that Carmichael had told me about and settled in to watch for any signs that his crew was here. There were only two cars in the parking lot. One, I assumed, belonged to the teenager working the front desk, and the other likely belonged to someone else staying here or another staff member. The taxi I'd taken to get here had long since disappeared.

With the curtain partially drawn back, providing me a slight crack to the outside world, I settled in to watch. Luckily, it wasn't a big motel. Only one level with twelve rooms that all faced the parking lot. The teen hadn't questioned it when I asked for a room on the end of the block that provided me with a vantage point that encompassed almost all of the motel rooms.

The ringing of my phone distracted me from my surveillance. The number was private.

I accepted the call and held it to my ear without speaking. There was a few seconds of crackling and then a voice cut through the static.

"Hey, kiddo."

"Jack," I replied. Surprised, and yet not, to hear the voice of my father on the phone. The Ortiz's must have gotten word to him somehow about what was going on. I didn't have to ask him about whether the line was secure. I knew that he'd never take the risk of calling me if it wasn't. "How are you?"

"Better than you, I reckon. Are you safe?"

"For now."

A gruff laugh. "Fair enough. Listen, I heard about Daniel. He's alive?"

"Seems that way. Might be dealing with a case of amnesia. I'm on a stakeout right now, trying to see if I can get a sightline on him."

"Who do you have as backup."

"No one," I said. And couldn't help but add, "I decided to take a page from your book and take some time for myself."

His deep sigh was the only indication that let me know he was displeased. Though Jack had only recently come into my life and our contact was extremely minimal, I knew that behind his every action was the intention to keep me safe. It was why he hated that I'd ended up in the same career field – despite his efforts – and why he got mad when I took what he perceived to be unnecessary risks.

Still, Jack knew better than to reprimand me. Knew that he had no right to. Not after the years he'd spent away from me, watching from afar as others raised me as their own.

Maybe it was because I knew he was biting his tongue or maybe there was just really no one else aside from him I could fully trust in that moment. Whatever the reason was, I said, "I think one of my friends may be trying to kill me."

The good thing about my father was that he didn't try to talk me down from the ledge. He knew that if I was bringing it up, there was a good chance it was true. Because I would never risk losing these people of mine by accusing them of something so serious unless there was some possibility that it was true.