Page 23 of Breached

“If I’m doing this,” I opened my arms, “then the whole team is in the know too.”

“I never agreed to that,” he barked, and I saw his temper flare.

I shook my head. “And we had an agreement that I was done being Eric Noah, but shit changes. I’m only agreeing with this because I know I’m the only one who can get in and get the info we need. But this is my family, Frank, and I’m done keeping things from them.”

“The fewer people who know, the better.” Frank glared at me.

“Did you believe that when you fed Nicole Eric’s name?” I shot back.

Cole stepped forward. “Frank, we can sit here and piss about it, or we can go get answers.”

Frank scrunched up his nose and gave me a nasty glare as he drew up to his full height. “Let’s not forget who’s calling the shots on this. When I say jump, you say how high.” He stomped out and let the door slam behind him.

I looked at Cole and thought of his father. Daniel would be shocked to see how quickly his friend had become this angry, demoralized man. I looked at Mark and wondered how Mia was handling it. Frank was her father, after all. I noticed he didn’t look directly at his father-in-law and simply stared at his hands. I shook my head as sadness settled over me. Our world was changing.

There was a knock on the door, and Keith opened it.

“Hi, I’m Gary. I’m here to—” He held up his ID.

“Come on in,” Keith told him.

The guy whose job was to transform me from Paul back to Eric Noah slowly lowered his bag on the table as he cast a wary look around the room. “Sure you don’t want me to come back?”

“No,” Cole waved at him, “it’s okay—get started now.”

Keith came over as I settled into a chair and gave my shoulder a punch. “I’ll be back,” he assured me as he and the guys left.

“Hey,” I called after them, “you’ll make sure she stays away.”

“Roger,” Keith replied. I knew he’d have my back—they all would.

A few minutes later, John was back holding two beers. He pulled up a chair, flipped it around so he could lean his weight on the back of it, and handed me one. I placed my arm on the table, and the man rolled out some glue and some fake scarring to cover my tattoo.

I felt uneasy. “What are you doing?”

“I figure you’ve done this alone for the past decade. Well, now you don’t have to.” He tapped his beer to mine.

I sipped the cold brew and tried my best to shake off my discomfort. The team now knew I was Eric Noah, but it still didn’t make it easier to have them see me transform.

“I checked on the child.” John was careful about what was said in front of the Gary guy who was busy working on my arm. I was impressed with his work as he created a fake, mutilated burn –it looked real. “Guess who he’s been following around.”

I didn’t really want Chase in my head, but I wanted to know just as bad. The struggle was real. “Olivia?”

“No, Hudson.” He grinned to show how great he thought that was. “I bet Ivy’s thankful for a playmate for her son.” I nodded. It was nice Chase had a little buddy. Then Nicole replaced Chase’s face in my head. “I can only imagine⁠—”

“I need to tell Nicole the truth,” I interrupted John, “before I go.”

John’s face twisted as he set his beer down then rubbed his hand over his lips. “Look, man, I can’t even begin to imagine where your head has been since Nicole came into your life and you found out you have a...” He trailed off with a glance at Gary. “And I know and understand why you haven’t told her yet. I’m aware it’s not just going to affect you and her. It’ll affect the boy too. But what you’re about to do is a big deal. You’re gonna be walking into the lair of the devil, and that bitch is not as stupid as her son. There are PMCs working for Esmeralda, not to mention the FBI, Trent Tillian, that shady politician, and God knows who else.”

“I know, but⁠—”

“Paul, you don’t know how Nicole’s going to react, and we don’t need you carrying that over there.” He pointed over my shoulder. “Clear head, clean decisions.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. My talk with Nicole was long overdue, but I had to do it right.

An hour later, I was back in my jeans, white tank top under an open floral shirt. The itchy beard was back in place, my arm and face felt stiff from the prosthetics, and light brown contacts hid my green eyes.

“That’s crazy,” John said, staring at me. “I know it’s you, but shit, you’re not you.” He shook his head in disbelief.