Page 3 of Shadow
She blinked as she read the note again and tried to figure out what it was supposed to mean.
Then the memories of the night before came flooding back. Damn it. She’d cried on some stranger’s chest after a night of sloppy drinking. Cannon Ripley had really fucked her up.
Chapter 1
Present Day
CannonRipleyclosedthedoor of the Uber and said goodnight to the driver who’d just dropped him off at the pickup spot for Club Exposure. After twelve hours in the air, he really should have headed to his hotel for a shower and some sleep in a proper bed. But he was dying to get to Olivia so he could tell her he was home for good. She hadn’t answered her phone when he landed, and the person who’d picked up at her bar said she wasn’t working tonight. So, he was making an educated guess that she was hanging out with friends at Club Exposure.
But he’d called Liv’s Place four times in the last week trying to catch her, and every time she wasn’t there. Maybe she was on vacation. Finally, he’d asked Fiona—the woman who always seemed to answer the phone—to pass a message along that he was coming home and wanted to see her. Fiona seemed unimpressed, to say the least, but agreed to pass it on after grilling him about who he was and why she needed to know he was coming home. At least she had protective friends.
He scanned the commuter lot and looked for the car that was supposed to pick him up. A slow grin spread across his face when he spotted the tall blond man leaned casually against the door of an SUV.
“They stuck you on driving duty, Mercer?” He approached his old friend with his duffel thrown over his shoulder. Peter Mercer pushed off the side of the car and opened the back for him to throw his bag in.
“I heard you needed a ride and had to welcome you home myself. And I thought it would be best if you heard it from me first. Olivia’s not here.”
Ripley jerked his head to stare at his friend. “What do you mean, she’s not here?”
“I mean, we haven’t seen her in at least six months. She bought another property and opened a second bar, so we assumed she was busy. But she didn’t renew her membership when it expired.”
Fuck. Nothing about that boded well for him.
“You still want to come, or should I call you a car home?”
Ripley shook his head. “I’m here. Might as well say hi to everyone. And I don’t have a home yet. I’ve been in town for twelve hours.”
Peter pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to have you home, Boomer.”
He rolled his eyes at the absurd nickname his friends had branded him with when they were first deployed together. Before they’d started swimming in the alphabet soup of the CIA, NSA, and a few other agencies. His mother called him Cannon, which made sense since she’d named him, but he much preferred to go by Ripley, his last name. His real last name. Not the made-up one his family used now. He shook his head. It had been years since he’d thought about his family. They typically didn’t exist to him. Coming home and not finding Olivia waiting for him must be messing with his head.
They got into the car without another word between them, and Peter pulled out of the lot and headed for Club Exposure. Ripley had never had the pleasure of going to the club because he spent most of his time out of the country doing things for the US government that probably should have gotten him killed. When he was in town, he was in bed with Olivia. At least until a couple of years ago, when she’d told him not to call her again until he was home to stay.
At the time, he thought the only way he’d be home for good was if he were dead. But life without Olivia was basically the same thing. So, he’d taken steps to extricate himself from his work—not a straightforward thing when you’re a spy—and now he was home without a job and apparently still without Olivia.
“You really out?” Peter asked as he changed lanes and glanced in his mirror.
Ripley nodded. “I’m done. It didn’t happen exactly the way I wanted it to, but it happened just the same. Could use a job if you’ve got one for me.”
The part he wasn’t telling Peter was that he’d been forced out. It was all incredibly quiet, and most people just thought he was retiring. But in reality, he’d been given a choice to step aside and retire quietly or be dragged through a brutal investigation into every case he’d ever worked. He could have fought it, but the thought of being home with Olivia was too tempting, so he’d let it happen.
Peter laughed. “You’ll always have a job with me. But I think you’ll find private security a little boring compared to what you’ve been doing.”
Ripley laid his head against the back of the seat as he looked over at Peter. “I could do with a little boredom. Especially after the last few adventures I’ve had. How’s Carrie?”
Peter’s face changed at the mention of his wife. It lit up even in the dark, and he got a lopsided grin on his face. Ripley wanted Olivia to get that look when she thought of him.
“Carrie is great. Just got back from an overseas trip herself, so you’re lucky I pulled myself away from her to pick you up.”
They pulled into the parking lot of a warehouse that honestly looked like it had seen better days. Ripley took it in and glanced at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “This is it?”
Peter laughed. “Just wait until you see the inside, my friend.”
As they climbed out of the SUV, the front door to the club opened and someone came running at him. He nearly threw a punch to stop the attack until he recognized her and stopped himself. Carrie Mercer.
“You’re here,” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t believe after all these years you’re finally here.”
He hugged her tight and laughed as Peter scowled in the background.
