Nicolas’s stomach knotted at her words. He lifted her, ignoring her protests, and took her to the boats. “We’ll find a place to shower and change clothes. You can rest while I go shopping for you.” It was all he could think to do. Even holding her, she was hunching away from him, avoiding his gaze, keeping her face averted from Kaden.
“The transport will be waiting,” Kaden reminded.
“Let it wait,” Nicolas said grimly.
* * *
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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Logan Maxwell was stocky with wide shoulders and bulging muscles on his arms. His ice-cold blue eyes assessed the group of men as they approached him in tight formation, weapons drawn, facing outward, tracking the area around the airfield.
“Expecting trouble?” he greeted.
“Yes,” Nicolas answered, nodding toward the gun in the pilot’s hand. “Aren’t you?”
“I was expecting Dahlia, not an army.”
“We’re escorting her. We’re her bodyguards.” Nicolas kept eye contact, two males staring one another down.
Max kept the stare going but raised his voice. “Dahlia? You all right?”
In spite of having cleaned up and dressed in the clothes Nicolas brought her, Dahlia was still pale and wan from the seizure. Her headache was a killer. She just wanted to lie down and sleep as she always did after such an event. The men had her cut off from the pilot, separated by their bodies and guns. She forced a casual shrug. “I’m fine, Max. They’re all just a little overprotective after what happened to Jesse,“ Dahlia answered. ”They insist on coming along.“
Max refused to break eye contact with Nicolas. “Not if you don’t want them to come. Say the word.”
“You think you can take us all?” Sam asked, amusement in his voice.
“You never know,” Max answered.
Dahlia sighed. “I can’t take it when you all act like this. It’s embarrassing. I’m tired, my head aches, and I’m sick of all of this. I’m getting on the plane.”
“Not yet,” Nicolas said and signaled Tucker and Sam to enter first. “Stay close to me, Dahlia.” He didn’t look at her when he gave the order, didn’t take his eyes from the pilot, but he was very aware of her. How fragile she seemed. How far away from him, although they were close enough he felt the brush of her skin against his.
“There’s no one on the plane,” Max said. “She always flies alone with just me.”
“Not anymore she doesn’t,” Nicolas answered, his obsidian eyes as hard and as unflinching as rock. “Not since someone in the NCIS sold her out.”
Max stood very still, and then he slowly holstered his gun. “Dahlia, have you spoken with the director, told him about this?”
“No, but he has to be thinking the same thing. It wasn’t all that hard to figure it out. Someone killed my family and burned down my home, Max. No one knew about me other than a few people at NCIS.”
“Including me,” Max said quietly.
Dahlia shrugged, hating to voice the suspicion out loud. She had very few friends, if one could call them that. They were acquaintances really, but she didn’t have enough to throw them away. And she’d always liked Max.
“Her last mission was a setup,” Nicolas supplied, his black gaze unswerving.
A muscle jumped in Max’s jaw. He swore under his breath. “Jesse Calhoun is my friend, Dahlia. I’ve always felt responsible for you. You should have called for backup. Once I fly you somewhere, my orders are to stand by to fly you back, which is exactly what I did. You never said a word.“
“I was late.” She said it softly. “Two hours late.”
Max swore again.
“Get in the plane, Dahlia. I don’t like how exposed you are out here,” Nicolas ordered. “We can sort it out in the air.” Although he was grateful she obeyed him quickly, it was unlike her to do so without a comment on his arrogance, and that bothered him. Dahlia beaten down was too much for his heart to take. He stayed very close to her, almost pushing her with his body in an attempt to get a response from her, but she kept her head down.