Page 23 of Exacting Vengeance

“You didn’t make an appointment with the agency shrink, did you?”

“No,” he admitted. Jack and Deke’s threat aside, he still had to submit to the required post-shooting wellness check-in with a psychologist. God help the shrink that got bogged down in his fucked-up life.

“I already had to pull some very lengthy strings to keep you off admin leave because of the trial. So get to the doc’s office, and get it over with,” Mike said. “That’s an order. It’ll keep Washington off my ass, and I like it when they stay away from that part of my body.”

Kyle never took Mike’s threats seriously but knew enough to keep quiet and let his boss rant. Though he’d heard it all before, he resigned himself to what was coming. It was the same line every time he did something that made someone try to shoot him.

“I know your brothers just lit into you, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t do my job as your supervisor. You’ve got more awards and commendations for valor than any agent in the Bureau, including me.” Mike tapped his barreled chest. “Hoover himself would be proud of you, but I don’t want to see you get yourself killed. It would mean too much paperwork, and I hate paperwork.”

Kyle snorted but understood the message. It was a miracle he was still alive. It was a miracle he still had a job.

Leaning back, Mike stroked his chin as if deep in thought. “I never told you this, but the day you responded to my recruitment ad I immediately liked what I saw—a hard, experienced, military field man. Of course, the particulars of your missions were classified, even to me. But with a few discreet calls to friends in Washington, I figured out whatever assignments you’d been on were difficult, dangerous, and covert. You were exactly what I wanted. What the Bureau needed. Someone intelligent, familiar with undercover ops, and able to think quickly on his feet. My point is, you’re tough as nails. But everyone has emotional baggage, and yours is heavier than most. Don’t let it drag you down forever.”

Kyle put another fold in the dragon. It wasn’t an easy thing to forget the past and move on. The memory of his wife and how she died would always be there, preventing him from letting go.

“You know Victoria Kelly, don’t you?” Mike canted his head. “I saw it in your eyes when you shook hands with her.”

“Yeah.” He abandoned the dragon and tossed it behind him into a box on the floor chock-full of origami. There were four more boxes like it at home. “You know her, too. On paper, anyway.”

Mike’s graying brows bunched. “Meaning?”

“We met in Chicago. At the time, her last name was Petrova.”

“That was Yuri Petrov’s wife?” This time, Mike’s brows nearly hit the ceiling. “I take it she didn’t know who you were until today.”

“No, she didn’t.” He shook his head. “Now she’s worried I’ll out her and get her fired from the case.”

Mike grunted. “Should we? Take her off the case? As I recall, she was the very reason our Chicago investigation ended.”

“True, but she isn’t a criminal, and she was never a target.” Kyle grabbed a piece of green paper from the stack. “It’s not her fault her husband was—and still is—a lowlife piece of garbage. She never belonged with him.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Hell no!” Kyle sat ramrod stiff in his chair. “You know that. Dammit, Mike.”

While nothing had happened between them in the sexual sense, there was no denying the passion that had been there, glowing but never igniting into the fireball he knew it would if circumstances had been different.

Mike held up his hand. “You’re right, you’re right. I know that but had to ask anyway. Are they still married?”

“No. Years ago, I heard through your old informant she managed to get an ex parte divorce.”

“I take it Petrov didn’t want to get divorced?”

“Not a chance.” He remembered their relationship. Vividly, and it wasn’t pretty. “He considered her his possession. He’d never have let her go willingly.”

Mike tapped his fingers on the armrest. “And here she is, assisting on a Russian organized crime case. That explains why you didn’t want her at the trial.”

“If someone recognizes her and word gets back to Yuri…” The thought made his mouth go bone-dry.

“Not too smart, her being here. You’d think she’d know New York City has the largest Russian population in the country.”

“You’d think,” he agreed. Victoria wasn’t stupid. There had to be a good reason she’d risk being in any big city, particularly New York.

“Petrov was released from prison a month ago,” Mike said. “Where is he now?”

“Still in Chicago. That’s where his power base is. He’ll stay where his status feeds his ego.” Kyle wasn’t worried for his own safety. Not even the DMV had his real address.

“So, what are you going to do about her?”