"You a go?" Olivia murmurs to me.

I nod and brace myself for what we're about to do.

We bribed a guard at the compound where Hassan is being held, but the guy could still easily sell us out. If we don't work fast, we'll share the same fate Hassan's facing. I'm not getting my ass killed over that douchebag.

Olivia and I sized up the room Hassan is being held in through the small, square window in the door. I unlock the door with the key the guard gave us, open it, and step inside the room.

"Women?" Hassan smiles with amusement. "He sent two women in here to kill me? I'm a little offended."

Rae outfitted us in the perfect disguises. Olivia and I are both wearing full burkas. With only my eyes visible and green contacts to change their color, I'm not worried Hassan will recognize me.

Hassan is sitting on a wooden chair, his hands tied behind him. Olivia covers the distance between the door and him in record time and delivers a swift right hook to his face that dazes him for an instant.

"Quit it," I whisper into the mic connected to the headpiece I'm wearing beneath my burka. "He has to trust us enough to leave here with us."

"Dickhead," Olivia mutters.

I approach Hassan and untie the ropes binding his hands. He immediately rubs the red marks on his wrists.

When I meet Olivia's eyes, she reads my unspoken message. I can't risk speaking in front of Hassan because he may recognize me. Olivia launches into a brief explanation.

"We're here to get you out. Do as I say, or we'll shoot you."

Hassan looks at her with appreciation. "I'm obliged. I'll need a weapon."

"You've got us," she says. "That's plenty."

"Who hired you?"

"The tooth fairy." Her tone is tinged with annoyance. "Now let's get the fuck out of here."

We got to Dubai four days ago and have been staking out the compound and making plans since. It feels good to finally be on the operation, but it'll feel better when we're out of here.

"That hallway leads to the courtyard," Olivia says to me. "That's what the guard said."

I shake my head, walk over to the door, and lock it, then take the chair and wedge it beneath the door handle.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asks skeptically.

Hassan makes a move to grab me, and I kick him in the stomach.

"Fuck," he grinds out, then looks at Olivia. "Kicking the man you're supposed to be saving? Are you sure she's with you?"

"Completely sure."

I point at the door, silently telling Olivia to cover it, and pull a crowbar from its spot on the belt strapped around my waist. The burka has a secondary benefit of hiding a few weapons.

When I approach the room's only window, Olivia catches on and murmurs the change of plan into her microphone. I swing the crowbar with all my strength, and the window cracks.

Another swing, a larger crack.

"Give it to me," Hassan says urgently.

Our eyes lock. I don't trust him, but he has no reason to turn on me right now. Olivia and I are his only shot at living to run more drugs and sell more weapons.

I hand over the crowbar, and he swings it against the window, which shatters into pieces that fall to the ground. He runs the crowbar around the window frame to clear out the shards of glass and then lifts me up and shoves me through the opening.

I hear voices in the distant hallway as I land on the ground about six feet below the window. Hassan is right behind me, and then I hold my breath and stare at the window, waiting for Olivia.

A punch to my eye pushes me backward, and I almost lose my footing. That prick Hassan clocked me and took off. He's kicking up a trail of dust as he runs away. I'd like to chase him and punch him back, but I can't leave Olivia.

When I look back up, she's scrambling through the hole where the window was, and I hear a crashing sound in the room. The two of us duck down and take off running. Bullets rain down on the ground at our feet, and I feel like my heart might beat right out of my chest.

An armored van is waiting for us on the street, and the door slides open as we approach. Two men reach for our arms and pull us inside, the van's tires squealing as it pulls out before the door is even closed.

I'm breathing hard, relieved to be free of the compound.

"He got away," I say, shaking my head.

"We're on him," one of the agents in the van says. "He's safe."

I take off my disguise and touch the swelling skin around my eye.

"He punched you?" Olivia asks, looking incredulous.

"Hassan would punch a little old lady. His moral compass is busted."

"Nice work, girls," Rae says over our coms headsets.

"Thanks," Olivia says. "From both of us."

I breathe out a sigh of relief and grab my cell phones from my bag, which was waiting for me in the van. There's a message from Nix on one phone screen.

Hey, where the fuck are you? Call me.

I smile and return the phone to my bag. I can't call or text him from Dubai because I can't risk him tracing my location. I wish I could, though. A little alpha protectiveness sounds kinda nice right now.

16.

Phoenix

"What has your panties in a bunch?" Coco asks, studying me over the screen of her laptop.

"Nothing, kid." I try to keep my voice even and devoid of anything resembling the annoyance and anger that's been growing inside me like a cancer since Kennedy left.

She's been gone seven days, and I haven't heard a thing from her. I pinged her phone four days ago but got nothing. She's hiding. But I don't know from whom or what, and at times, I wonder if it's me she's shielding herself from.

Coco pulls her hot pink glasses from her face and sighs. "You've been moody all week. Seriously, Nix. It's like you have PMS. You're giving me whiplash with your attitude."

"Why are you wearing those ridiculous glasses?" I divert the conversation to something I know Coco will love talking about-fashion. The glasses are over-the-top, even for Coco, but she hasn't stopped wearing them since she opened the lid of her laptop and started on her new assignment. They don't even have a prescription to magnify what she's reading. They're only on her face because they're cute.

She chews the earpiece of her glasses that's wedged between her lips, and she narrows her eyes, piercing into me. "I look good in these glasses." She snarls at me in her cute-but-trying-to-be-badass way. "Don't change the subject. What's wrong? Is it her?" Coco's eyes turn hawkish in their gaze.

"Her name is Eva."

"Bingo." She snickers. "It is her."

"I don't want to talk about it." I bury myself in my paperwork because I've never let a woman affect me the way Kennedy does, and it bothers the hell out of me. I can still feel Coco's eyes on me, and there's a long stretch of silence that used to be comfortable between us when she was younger.

"You like her?" The lid of her laptop closes, and she begins to drum her fingertips against it. "Like, really like her? Hmm," she says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah," I finally admit and hate the way my mouth tastes when I say the words. Admitting any type of feelings for anyone has never sat well with me. I promised myself I would never get involved with anyone-especially someone who's involved in my business.

"Aww, Nix is in love," she teases.

"Shut up, Coco," I grumble. "I'm not in love. I'm pissed. They're two different emotions."

"I'm well acquainted with them both. What happened? Scare her away with your charm?"

I glance up to catch the mischievous smile on her face, and a low growl creeps up my throat. "Drop it."

"Ooh," she sings and claps her hands. "I struck a nerve."

Leaning back in my chair, I rest an arm on the cold marble counter of the kitchen island and relax. "Do your work."

"Nope." She smiles, and for a moment, I see a hint of the kid I once knew.

"We haven't talked in a few days." I sigh because I know Coco is a pit bull. The girl can't drop a topic once she's started her line of questioning. She'd be a great detective, annoying every criminal until they cracked under her constant barrage of questions. "I'm just worried something happened to her."

She clasps her hands together and stretches them out in front of her, the smile still playing on her lips. "Want me to ping her phone?" When she untangles her fingers, she wiggles them in the air. "I know how to do that now."

"Nope. No pinging." I stop there, not admitting that I already did it. "I'll deal with her when I see her again."

She waggles her eyebrows. "Sounds hot."

"Coco," I warn with my lips set in a firm line.

She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "You're no fun anymore, Nixie. Always so serious and zero sense of humor."

"Babe, I'm funny."

"Nope." She shakes her head quickly.

I cross my arms in front of me and cock my head. "Yeah. I am."

She puts her hand between us and throws her palm in my face. "Hardly."

"Come on." I open my arm and rock forward in my chair. "I make you laugh. Admit it."

She rolls her eyes dramatically. "You were funny when I was sixteen." She pauses and presses her index finger to her lip, deep in thought. "Well, funny after I was done being scared of you."

I turn my head as if I didn't hear her correctly. "You were scared of me?"

"Duh! I swear you're clueless sometimes. Men..." Her voice trails off.

"I never gave you any reason to be scared of me, Co."

She scrubs her hands down her face and scrunches her nose, but her eyes are soft. "You didn't do anything. You're just scary." She bites her lip and hesitates, but I keep my mouth shut to give her a chance to explain. "You're big, Nix, almost freakishly so. You're all muscles and mood. Sometimes I don't see you crack a smile for days. I'm sure when you walk down the street with those thick, black eyebrows drawn downward and a scowl on that beautiful face, people part like the Red motherfuckin' Sea to escape you."

I gawk at her. Not because she's wrong, but completely spot-on. But my goal isn't to scare people. I just want them to leave me alone and mind their own business. Relationships are a complication I don't need or want. "I don't need people thinking I'm approachable."

"Well, you got that shit down pat." She laughs. "Your mean mug is absolute perfection."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Although I love Coco to pieces, the last thing I want to do tonight is sit here and pick apart my personality. "It's Friday night. I'm sure you have a hot date."

"I have a date, but not until midnight." She smirks and crosses her arms because she knows that I'm still protective of her even though she's an adult.

"Midnight? Nothing good happens at that hour."

"I hope not." She giggles. "I'd be disappointed if Connor had anything good planned."

I close my eyes and dig my fingers into the corners. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

She laughs louder. "Can I make you something to eat before I go?"

"I'm fine. Be safe tonight. Please. I'd hate to go to jail for murdering Connor." I don't know who the little fucker is, but I'll break him just the same if he hurts her.

She jams her laptop in her oversized purse, but she doesn't look at me when she speaks. She's hiding something from me. "He's harmless, Nix."

"What's Connor do for a living?"

"Well..." She grimaces when she finally glances at me. "He's a cop."

I refrain from smashing my head into the hard countertop. The girl is still a challenge, and I swear she does this shit on purpose just to piss me off. "You're dating a cop? Coco, we don't need him looking into our life."

Resting her arm on the back of the sleek, modern chrome and black stool, she purses her lips. "I figure since I'm getting my badass criminal on, I might as well date someone who could be of use to me."