Page 91 of The Bodyguard
He exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, JJ.”
“Please Fitz…”
He looked at her. Really looked. She wasn’t just angry. She was afraid. Not for herself—but for someone she cared about.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“On the run,” Jordan said. “I’m getting her to Monaco. But she won’t be safe there—not for long, not on her own.”
Fitz sighed. “Well, we’re opening up Opus Noir and another branch of Cerberus. Nick Ryeland and Logan Radcliffe are already there…”
Her lips twitched. Not a smile—just the ghost of one.
“You’re a brat, JJ.”
She crawled into his lap. “Aye,” she said in her best Scottish accent, “and you love me.”
“True enough. All right, give me the details. I’ll get them to Nick and Logan and leave it in their hands. Their hands JJ. Understood?”
“But, of course, Master.”
Fitz snorted. Jordan was right. This was just the kind of thing Cerberus had been set up to do. This wasn’t just a favor for some disgruntled housewife. If Vallois was involved, this could easily escalate into a war. And war? That was something Cerberus knew how to do.
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