Thirty seconds passed before I opened my eyes and patted my hands across my chest, which was blessedly free from bullet holes. A stinging in my left arm drew my eyes down where I discovered a rip in my jacket and blood spreading across the steel gray fabric.

Barely a nick then, so why was my face wet?

"I wouldn't," James said as I raised my hand to touch my cheek.

He sat on the ground, back against the vehicle with one arm draped over a raised knee. His firearm dangled from that hand, and blood dripped from his hairline into his left eye. Otherwise, he appeared unharmed.

Using the gun, he gestured toward the spot our assailant had been, and I looked over to find the man face first on the ground with a portion of his head missing, which answered the question about what was on my face.

"Thanks," I muttered, well aware the positions would be reversed if James hadn't roused himself fast enough to shoot him.

"I'd bring him back from the dead so I could shoot him again if I could—the bastard. Saving you in the process was just as a bonus." He grunted as he stood, pain lining his face. "Joy didn't deserve that. Fuck."

Still on my knees, I scrubbed my arm across my face, preferring brain matter on my jacket rather than my forehead, and stared at the burning remains of the cabin. It wasn't just Joy that was lost but the men we'd sent into protect her, but they'd known the risks when they took the job.

Joy... Joy trusted us to keep her safe, and we—I—fucking failed. Shame piled on top of the guilt. I'd planned on treating her like a criminal, grilling her for information, but seeing the lengths someone was willing to go to keep her quiet showed me she was as much of a victim as Marianna.

As much as Millie, maybe? The woman I'd thrown to the wolves. Who might already be dead because of my unyielding pride.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I screamed, striking my fist against the ground so hard bits of gravel lodged in the flesh. Shaking the stones out, I rose and walked over to the body, kicking his ribs hard to turn him over.

"Lochlan," James said, limping to me and putting his hand on my arm, careful to avoid my wound. "Let one of our team look him over. They're trained."

"This isn't a crime scene. We aren't trying to solve his murder. I want to see if he has anything on him that will lead me to the son of a bitch behind all this, because you and I both know, Melnyk is the middleman."

James wiped at his eye, smearing blood across his tan face. Then he shrugged. "You're right."

"I know I—" I froze. Two figures emerged from the woods to the side of the house. "Do you see that? I'm not hallucinating am I? I don't have a head injury?"

"Tomas!" James shouted, breaking out into a run. "Joy!"

We met Tomas and Joy in the middle of the yard, close enough the lingering flames were uncomfortable. While Joy's face was pale and there was a tremble in her hands, she showed no signs of injury. Tomas, neither, and he didn't look scared. He looked pissed.

"Report," James demanded, pulling blankets from the truck. He threw one arm around Joy and pressed a cold soda into her hands. "Drink that. It'll help with the shock."

Tomas waited until Joy took the first sip before speaking. "There's not much to report. Fucking lucky is what we were. Joy asked to go for a walk. She was getting nervous in the cabin, and since it's all woods behind it, we decided it was safe enough to go a little way in. About twenty minutes after we left, we heard the explosion. I gave her one of my guns and tucked her out of view. Got here in time to see James shoot that asshole. Went back and got her when I realized you two were okay."

"So the only casualty is..." There were always at least two during an assignment like this. I didn't want to hear the name, but I had to.

Tomas hung his head. "Xavier."

Joy let out a wail and began to sob. James rubbed her back, forcing her to drink more soda whenever she caught her breath, and after what felt like an eternity, she calmed.

Feeling like an asshole but having no other choice, I squatted in front of her. James's phone rang, and he gave me a sharp look of warning before stepping away to answer it.

"Joy." I spoke softly. She chewed her lip for a couple seconds before looking up at me. "I know you're scared, but the information you have is important. And could help people who are very important to me."

"I know." Gray curls fell across her forehead, and there were soil stains in her gray leggings. She looked like someone's grandmother. Not like someone running from the mob.

"Look at it this way," Tomas said. "They think they got you. They think you're dead. You're safe now."

Joy brightened at this, but before I could ask her to say more, James motioned me over and said in a low voice. "That was Tonya. Dr. Chen has been in an accident. Apparently, he was on his way to share the DNA results when someone side swiped him. The results are missing, and he's in critical condition."

We stared at one another, the gravity of the news settling over us. Millie was Marianna. She had to be. I couldn't imagine them going to such lengths to hide the DNA tests otherwise.

"It's fine. Make sure someone is guarding his room at the hospital." James nodded, raising the phone to ear. "And James—"

"Yes, sir."

"Find Millie."

"Already working on it."

Dragging in a shaking breath, I returned to Joy and Tomas. "Do you think you can speak about it now?"

"There's not much to tell," she began, but held up her hand when I started to argue. "Not much to tell but it's still important. I saw Karen the day after the news broke about Marianna. She showed up at my house completely frazzled. Said she'd done something stupid and had to get out of town."

I pressed my palm against the car to hold myself up. "Something stupid like kidnapping?"

Joy shrugged. "I assumed that was it, but we weren't close enough for me to pry."

"Then why did she come to you before running?"

"Because," she paused and pulled her blanket tighter around her "I'd been keeping her daughter."

James walked up in time to hear that bombshell. "Karen didn't have a daughter."

"She most certainly did. Precious thing too. Maybe a year old. Funny thing is, she looked a lot like Marianna Reed. If I hadn't kept her since she was born, I might have thought it was her."

Black spots floated in my vision. "What was her name?"

"Terrible name. Millicent. Karen named her after her grandmother supposedly." Joy chuckled. "But we all called her Millie."