Chapter 3

“Of all the gin joints…”

Casablanca had nothing on Anniston Falls’ seedy underbelly. The excessive amount of prostitutes, drug dealers and gang members per capita made Ricky Blaine look like a philanthropist. And made Seth Bizenhofer about as jaded as Humphrey Bogart’s character as he scanned the hotel bar for a man he hadn’t seen in almost a decade. Who should’ve moved on from here already.

Like the old movie, Seth was almost stuck in a different time. Mission after mission had him playing a part, undercover for years in one fake life, then another. His skills at becoming who people expected him to be proved even more valuable than his medical training, though his ability to heal was useful for finding an in. Covert ops had given him a distraction from the guilt that had plagued him since that one fatal day.

But it had never been a real escape.

From the infrequent updates he’d been able to get over the years, the men he’d loved were doing well. He couldn’t protect them from everything, but all the debts he collected were paid out in whatever safety or stability he could offer. He’d accepted a long time ago it would be best for everyone if he stayed away.

I was so fucking wrong.

How could he have believed the man he’d wanted to save from the harsh realities of warfare would survive with his tender soul as a merc? It had been beyond foolish, but when Seth had been recruited as a young doctor with all kinds of ideals, there were no other options. He either let the men he loved die, or offered them a choice.

One had blindly accepted. One refused.

And he’d lost both.

Tonight, he had a chance to pull one back from the ledge he’d stepped onto, because, from what Seth had heard, the man hadn’t changed that much. He took dangerous missions with outcomes that could save hundreds, if not thousands of lives. Which would justify everything for him.

Until he was forced to answer that age old question.

Do the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?

The answer seemed simple, until one was faced with the decision when things got personal. Seth could’ve easily predicted Quint Templeton, his once submissive, would fail this test. But saving him from his mistakes meant claiming loyalties he’d avoided for so long. Vani had approached Seth with offers over the years, but this one was different. They both knew it.

Once Quint was close to one of the men he’d given his whole heart to, there was no way he could keep up the act. However he’d gotten through all these years as a mercenary, forced to leave his past, every connection he’d had behind...facing it again would have him wanting to be who he once was.

My boy, you should have known better. There’s no going back.

The mission was simple. A young man, deeply entrenched in a criminal enterprise, trying to play at being a college student, held the key to taking down a global trafficking ring. Kept out of the trenches of his family's organization, but maintaining enough power to hold on to the complex legacy built over generations.

Seth wouldn’t have chosen this particular mission for Quint, not with how close it would bring him to the very past he should have cut ties with, but this was Quint’s last chance to prove he could do the job. That he wasn’t a vulnerable asset Vani needed to eliminate because he knew too much.

As a man who’d lived in this world for so long, Seth couldn’t blame her for laying out those emotional landmines. Already he’d gained enough of her respect to know this mission was personal. Those involved had gone after her wife years ago. Tried to use her in retaliation. Vani had saved her, but the payback would be brutal. And allowed for no mistakes.

The man he’d let go for his own good was tangled in a web only Seth could get him out of. He’d given Vani all the reasons he needed Quint on this job, while keeping sentiment out of it. She expected the performance of the man who’d abandoned his whole team, ten men in exchange for over a thousand.

She didn’t know how close he’d come to throwing it all away.

If Jared had listened, if he hadn’t assumed all I wanted was to take Quint away from him…

Stepping past several men in suits congregating near the entrance, Seth did a quick check of all entry points, shaking his head when a woman in a sparkly red dress shot him a ‘come hither’ look. For some reason, he’d almost expect to sense Quint’s presence as he had all those years ago. Feel the energy shift when he walked into a room, his smile making things a bit brighter, no matter how grim their reality.

But there was nothing.

While Quint’s behavior might still be somewhat predictable, it was entirely possible everything else about him had changed. He might’ve gained a few pounds over the past decade. Or lost that head of wavy light-brown hair that had felt so fucking good as Seth ran it through his fingers while the rain pelted outside their Mexico hotel room on their last mission. Their only mission.

Vani’s intel said the man had a glass of whiskey every night, alone at the bar. The very same brand of whiskey Jared always had on hand in the desert.

That she’d been keeping such close tabs on Quint wasn’t a good sign.

She let me bring him in on this mission. That’s all that matters. We’ll get things sorted out.

A swath of light blue material cut through the line of dark suit jackets close to the crowded bar. Shoulders not quite as broad as Seth’s, but still solid and strong, that graceful walk, so fucking familiar. Dark slacks and the kind of button-down shirt Quint had favored.

That Jared loved seeing him in off base...

Shaking off memories of his ex CO., Seth made his way up to the bar.

Thick waves of hair framed a boyish face that had lost none of its handsome charm. A few extra lines made the effect of the near-perpetual upturn of Quint’s lips even more like the sunny smile Seth had committed to memory.

Except, he wasn’t smiling now.

“Is this seat taken?” Lamest pickup line ever, but Seth needed to set the tone from the get go. Only one answer was acceptable for what he was here to ask and he’d use any means necessary to get it.

Including keeping Quint a bit off-guard.

At least here the other man wouldn’t welcome his presence with a bullet between the eyes.

I hope.

Hand going to his side, though he wasn’t wearing a weapon, Quint tensed and sat up straight. Lifting his gaze, he inhaled slowly even as a guarded smile curved his lips. “I’d say you’re the last person I’d expect to see here, but life’s funny that way, isn’t it? Care for a drink?”

Accepting the offer to take the stool next to Quint, Seth inched the high-backed metal stool around so he could lean his right forearm along the black padded pleather wrapping the lip of the bar. “Sounds like just what—” He grinned at the inside joke. “—the doctor ordered.”

“Hmm.” Quint eyed him for a moment, then motioned the bartender over, his smile softening as he slid a hundred-dollar bill across the bar. “If you’d keep me and my friend here’s glasses filled, it would be appreciated. Keep the change. If we end up drinking beyond what that covers, I’ll give you more.”

Granted, two mercs could handle their liquor better than most, but flashing that much cash in a place like this almost guaranteed to attract notice in ways Seth preferred to avoid.

He eyed Quint’s wallet meaningfully. “A little discretion, perhaps?”

“I didn’t know I needed it. No one was supposed to know I was back yet.” Quint tipped his glass to his lips with a soft laugh. “That didn’t last long.”

A wry look accompanying his small head shake, Seth lifted the whiskey glass the bartender set in front of him. “You show up on the arm of Rhodey Leonov’s nephew, in Jared McCleod’s home, and you thought word wouldn’t travel? That’s naive, even for you, smiley.”

“You’re talking about men who managed to make several unsure if they were actually keeping Wren…” Quint shook his head as though the motion could erase the hint of pain he’d almost managed to hide. Then his smile broadened slightly. “Wren Gibson at the club. So yes, part of me hoped my presence would be negligible. I didn’t stay long. I’d be gone already, but I’m working on reestablishing myself. I have a feeling that’s not why you’re here.”