At the front desk, Micah spoke in hushed tones with the clerk and then was presented with several key cards. Eden stared at him in confusion as he herded her onto the elevator and hit the button for a floor that wasn’t the one she was currently staying on.

“We don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m not taking you back to your hotel room until it’s cleared,” Micah said. “For now, you’ll stay in a different one on a different floor until this is all sorted out.”

She allowed herself to be led into the large suite, identical to the one she had occupied the last several nights, and then plopped into one of the armchairs, her hands shaking so badly she couldn’t control it.

Then, remembering she had to call her father, she picked up the phone. Across the room, David was already on the phone, explaining the situation to the police and that Eden was safely inside the hotel. She purposely waited for David to finish his call, wanting to be able to give her father as much reassurance as possible.

When he finally hung up, he turned, his expression tight. “They’re sending two detectives here now. They were very certain to say you weren’t to go anywhere in the meantime. And Eden, it’s likely they’ll detain you further while they sort out this whole thing. The press is going to be all over this.”

She made an ugh sound and then stared down at the phone. With a sigh, she punched in her dad’s number, knowing he was going to have a heart attack when she told him she’d been shot at, whether randomly or as the intended target. Either option wouldn’t be acceptable to Eddie Sinclair.

CHAPTER 3

EDDIE stared at his two sons, unease gripping him by the balls. He was sweating. Even his hands were damp. His legendary cool under pressure had flat deserted him.

Ryker and Raid were staring at him expectantly, their expressions grim and worried. Raid had come from work, his shoulder harness still on, gun holstered. Ryker’s hair was still damp from a shower and it was obvious he’d thrown on the first thing he’d come across in his haste to answer Eddie’s summons.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Raid asked in a low voice.

Eddie wiped his palm down over his face. “It’s a long story. One I need to tell you from beginning to end so you understand what we’re dealing with.”

Ryker frowned and glanced over at his brother. No doubt they weren’t used to seeing their father in such a state of agitation. Eddie had never been anything but assured and confident.

“Sit,” Eddie commanded, gesturing toward the couch.

His two sons did as he directed and then looked expectantly at him, but he didn’t take a seat. He was too jittery, too gutted by what he had to tell his boys. How could he ever look any of his children in the eyes again once they knew the truth?

“You’re worrying me, Dad,” Ryker said in a grim tone.

Eddie closed his eyes and then ran a hand raggedly through his hair.

“Your mother’s death wasn’t an accident,” he said.

Shock registered on both his sons’ faces.

“I don’t understand,” Raid said, his tone as grim as Ryker’s had been moments earlier. “What the f**k are you saying, Dad? Did you just find this out? How the hell did you find this out anyway? And if her death wasn’t an accident . . .”

“Who killed her?” Ryker asked hoarsely.

The knot in Eddie’s stomach grew, clenching painfully. “It’s a long story, one that begins before you were born.”

“We’re listening,” Raid said tightly, his features drawn into a mask of pain and confusion. And worry.

Eddie finally slumped into one of the armchairs across from the couch where Raid and Ryker sat and bleakly stared at his sons.

“You both know I served in the military.”

They nodded, impatience simmering in Ryker’s eyes. He wanted his dad to get to the point.

“I served in a special ops group, one that didn’t officially exist. Our missions weren’t the usual run of the mill. We took on missions that were it discovered the U.S. had a hand in them, the fallout would have been messy. One particular mission took us three years to complete. Three long years of waiting and watching for the right opportunity. Raul Sanchez was our mission. Taking him down and dismantling his operation. Three years and two months into our operation, we caught a break. We got intel that he was going to be in a particular location for a family gathering. His daughter’s birthday. This was a man who was as slippery as an eel. More than one country’s military was after him. We just happened to get to him first.

“We set up surveillance on the compound where he was going to be. Everything went off without a hitch. But then the unthinkable happened. We believed his wife and daughter had already left in a car. We waited until they were clear of the compound and then we went in.”

He broke off, regret and guilt surging and pumping through his veins as if it had happened just yesterday. For years he’d lived with his mistake. A mistake his wife had paid for, his entire family had paid for. And now it would appear Eden would pay for it if he and his sons didn’t prevent it.

“A firefight broke out. Our entry wasn’t clean. A guard got lucky and deviated in his patrol, saw one of my men and all hell broke loose. I was leading the group of men tasked with taking out Sanchez. We burst into the study he was holed up in. He had two men with him and they drew on us. We had no choice but to return fire and . . .”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, tears burning his eyelids.