Page 40 of Broken
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Prescott said.
“No,” she bit out. “And in case there’s any confusion, Iwon’tbe at the club tonight.”
Once outside, she walked on rubbery legs up the long driveway toward her sister-in-law’s Jeep, parked on the street.
The Winchester cult standoff had been intense from the beginning, but she’d had every confidence the leader would free his followers. She hadn’t been able to save Janey, but she’d been hellbent on keeping those people alive.
And I would have, if Armstrong hadn’t gone rogue.
Three weeks into the standoff, the cult leader had called in the middle of the night. The negotiator had stepped out, so Jacqueline got on the phone with him. He liked talking with her, so she’d continued their conversations over the next seven days. Then, in the dead of night, she’d been on the phone with him, encouraging him to let everyone leave the compound. When he moved to a backlit window, Prescott took his kill shot.
One minute, he was on the phone, the next, he was gone.
Within minutes, mass suicide.
She’d worked her ass off to get to where she was—and that one bullet had sent her on a very different trajectory.
As she got to the Jeep, Addison’s dad, Philip Skye— Z—loomed into view.
“Hello, Mr. Skye, it’s good to see you.”
He pulled to a stop at the Jeep. “Jacqueline, how are you?”
“Doing great. You?”
“Did I miss the party?”
“They’re just about to have dinner.”
“Why are you leaving?”
“I’ve got a work—”
His expression made her laugh.
“I can’t BS you, can I?” she asked.
Z shook his head. “No, you can’t. What’s going on?”
“The HRT agent who took out the cult leader was my assigned host for the party, only I didn’t know who he was. But you did, didn’t you, Z?”
Z nodded. “Gut it out, if you can. I know Addison was looking forward to seeing you.”
“Normally, I would, but…”
“You aren’t happy out west, are you?”
She shook her head. “I miss my family and close friends. I loved running the Winchester office. I loved my job so much.” Fighting the emotion, she gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see you, next month, at the wedding.”
Without waiting for him to reply, she jumped into the vehicle and pulled onto the quiet residential street. She would spend the evening playing with the puppies and trying to forget she ever met Prescott Armstrong.
Too bad he turned out to be my worst fucking nightmare. He could have been the man of my dreams.
7
ANOTHER DEAD OP
Prescott
