HOT SECRETS: A Hostile Operations Team - Book 13

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HOT SECRETS: A Hostile Operations Team - Book 13 Page 3

by Lynn Raye Harris


  Anger tightened like a screw inside him. He might not care about her any longer, but he didn’t like the thought of some douchebag stalking any woman. Even Bliss.

  She sucked in a breath. “When it was dark, I used my phone to blast him with music and hit him with lights. I intended to escape while I could, but he must have realized where I was headed… So I shot him. It’s not my blood the police found. But I don’t know how badly I hit him.”

  Her words were a thump to the gut, which both angered and confused him. This was Bliss. It could all be lies. Just like she’d lied about being in love with him so she could get close to his boss. Was she up to the same old tricks again? Trying to get near Mendez or Ghost and take them down?

  He practically snorted. Hardly. Those two were not at all vulnerable to the likes of Bliss. And there was also the matter of the blood in her house, which the news reports confirmed. So whose was it if not hers? “So what do you expect me to do? Sounds like you need to call your boss or something.”

  It sounded cold, but he couldn’t help it. He still carried a lot of anger over what she’d done. How she’d lied and made a fool of him. He’d shared his life with her for six months, and it had all been a lie.

  “Help me figure out what’s on the hard drive. It’s encrypted, and I don’t have the ability to strip that out. But you do.” She looked at him confidently, like he walked on water or crapped gold bricks.

  “Don’t know what makes you think that. I’m just a poor soldier, Bliss. You’ve got me beat when it comes to financing projects. You’re the one with the dough.”

  Because she sold her skills to the highest bidder. He used his in service to his country. Big difference.

  She snorted. “It’s not about dough, moron. It’s about whatever’s in Martin’s files. Somebody wants it badly. Why else would they break into my house so soon after I lifted the files?”

  “If they know you, a lot of reasons,” he muttered. She glared. “Look, call up your contact at the CIA and hand the shit over if that’s what you think it is. Let him or her deal with it.”

  She chewed her lip. Her eyes were troubled. “I’d rather know what I’m dealing with so I can gain some leverage. If I give this up without knowing what it is, what then? Whoever broke into my house might keep coming for me. How will I stop them if I don’t have something to bargain with?”

  He hated to admit it, but what she said made sense. Then again, why did he care? With Bliss, it could all be bullshit. “I think you need to call up the CIA, Bliss. Hand this shit over and lay low for a while.”

  She blinked at him like she hadn’t expected him to refuse. “You really aren’t curious?”

  “Of course I’m curious. But I also know who I’m dealing with. What if you want me to break into these files so you can sell the information to the highest bidder yourself? Not sure I want to be a part of that.”

  Her jaw went slack. “You really think this is an elaborate con, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She set the beer down and stood, her face growing red. She threw her hands wide. “Why would I even come to you, Sky? If all I wanted was to sell it, I’d find a buyer. You know I could do that. Hell, I could do the research and find out what Martin was trying to sell, then set up my own auction—but that would take time I don’t have. I came to you because I know you can do this. Encryption was your specialty, not to mention the military shit you’re into.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Just exactly what kind of military shit do you think I’m into?”

  “I don’t know—but you must still be doing computer work because you damned sure aren’t in a combat unit like you wanted to be.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. “I was an Airborne Ranger. I was in a combat unit when we met.”

  “But assigned to DC for network defense and hacking scenarios. You wanted to be a Green Beret, but it doesn’t look like that happened.”

  He was almost amused. “You can tell that from a twenty-minute conversation?”

  She stopped. Stared. “Did it? Are you a Green Beret? Or Delta?”

  He’d wanted those things. He’d wanted to be elite, to prove to the world—to his father—that he could be the best of the fucking best and that he didn’t need to lie or cheat his way into it.

  “Nope,” he said, lifting the beer to his lips. “Neither of those things. Guess I’m not good enough after all.”

  She seemed to be at a loss. And then her chin thrust out a little. Stubborn. “No, you’re probably just better at what you’re doing, which is why they won’t let you go.”

  He supposed he should be flattered at the compliment—if he could actually take her words at face value. The thought that she still smelled like cotton candy tickled his mind. Sky stiffened. Where the fuck had that come from? She was several feet away, and all he could smell was beer since he had one close to his face.

  But she’d walked past him and into the house earlier. He’d held the door for her and her scent had stolen to him. He’d ignored it at the time—or tried to—but now it was all he could think about. Cotton candy. He hated cotton candy. But he liked the way it smelled—sticky-sweet and pink, if pink was a smell.

  Focus.

  “Why don’t you want to call your contact? Because that seems like the most logical scenario here, yet you resist it each time I make the suggestion.”

  She still looked red-faced and angry, but that fleeting hint of terror he’d seen earlier crossed her face again before it faded into nothingness. “I don’t know who I can trust. I’ve done work for Jones over the past couple of years, so I know he’s legit—but what if there’s a leak somewhere? Somebody knew what I was doing.” She leaned forward, fixed him with her blue gaze. “I shouldn’t have been traceable, Sky. I’m good at what I do and I’m careful. And yet within an hour of completing the transfer, somebody broke into my house. They knew I was the one who stole the files. They knew where to find me. Hell, I haven’t logged in in two days now. Why would I let anyone know where I am and put a beacon on myself?”

  Bliss knew she sounded paranoid, like a heroine in a spy movie, but the job had been routine. It was supposed to be routine, anyway. Her mark was always some guy with a chip on his shoulder, pissed off at his bosses and selling information that was too sensitive to be out in the open. It wasn’t usually earth-shattering information—like the schematics to building your own nuclear weapon in your backyard or anything—but it was bad news for the owner of the information if it got out there.

  And yeah, sometimes it was stuff that could hurt US interests in the world. That’s when the CIA got involved. She did the job she was paid to do and didn’t ask questions. Until two days ago, no one had ever come looking for her. She hadn’t even known it was possible because of the levels of secrecy around what she did.

  But someone had broken through all the layers and come straight for her. Sky’s hazel eyes stared into hers. She tried not to let her body melt a little at that sexy gaze of his, but she failed. She’d always melted when Sky looked at her. When he touched her.

  When he kissed her? She went up in smoke.

  Sky had been both the best and worst assignment of her life. She hadn’t been able to quit him like she should have, and it blew up in her face when she stayed instead of going. She’d known the whole time that it would.

  Oh, she’d hoped she was wrong. She’d hoped that finally she’d found a guy who wanted her for her.

  Nice try, Bliss, but you never let him see the real you, did you?

  She hated that insidious voice. She’d let him see as much of her as she could, but she hadn’t told him the truth. That, it turned out, was the deal breaker for Sky. He was a stickler for the truth. At all costs.

  “All right, then you set the conditions,” she said, their gazes still locked, her heart beating a million miles a second. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll agree to. Just help me find out what’s in those files—and let me hide out while we do it.”

  He sipped his beer. Set it d
own. Picked up his laptop and tapped some keys. She didn’t know what he was searching for, but she knew it had everything to do with whether or not he’d agree.

  “Bill Martin disappeared two days ago,” he said. “Did you know that?”

  A chill rolled down her spine. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Your problem might solve itself. If they got what they wanted out of him.”

  “Do you really think that’s how any of this works?”

  “No, I don’t.” He slapped the lid closed and glared at her. “If I help you, you’re going to tell me every single fucking thing I want to know. You got that?”

  “I…” She swallowed. Was he agreeing? “Yes.”

  His gaze hardened. “No secrets, Bliss. No lies. You lie to me and I find out, you’re gone. No amount of pleading will make me change my mind either. You fuck with me, and I shut it all down. You’ll be on your own.”

  What could she say? “Okay.” It was more than she’d expected.

  “Swear to God, Bliss, if this turns out to be a con, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you pay. You won’t walk away like you did the last time. You seriously don’t want to fuck with me. Things have changed, and now I have resources too. You understand me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t. “I understand.”

  He nodded at his computer. “It’s been two days. Where did you go?”

  She pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve been moving around the city, staying in the shittiest motels imaginable under an assumed name. I ditched my car, wired a Honda, and came here as soon as I found out your address. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  He frowned. “How did you find me?”

  She hesitated. His frown deepened. “I called in some markers.”

  “I have to wonder what kind of markers,” he said softly. “My address isn’t well known.”

  “You pay utility bills, Sky. It’s known. But it wasn’t easy, believe me. That’s why it took two days.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You sure you weren’t followed?”

  “Reasonably.”

  “Phone?”

  “I have my personal phone, which I haven’t turned on, and a burner. I needed it in case Jones made contact.” She bowed her head and put her hands in her hair. “I was supposed to make the drop two nights ago. I didn’t do it.”

  “And what’s he say about that?”

  “He’s not happy. I haven’t answered, but his messages are… strident. But it just didn’t feel right to meet with him. I didn’t want to be exposed.”

  “Probably a good idea.” He got to his feet and stretched lazily. “I gotta get my shit together. But you have to drive.”

  She blinked. “Drive? Where?”

  He paused. “You didn’t think I’d let you sleep here, did you?”

  “Um, I did.”

  He shook his head. “From this moment on, I’m in charge of security. We’re leaving.”

  She was too tired to argue. And, quite frankly, relieved to hand it over and let someone else worry about it. “Is it far? Because I can drive, but I haven’t been sleeping well and I don’t want to fall asleep at the wheel.”

  “Not far.” Sky disappeared up the stairs. He’d barely been gone a minute when he returned with a duffel bag and a backpack. He stuffed his laptop into the backpack, snapped the TV off, and shouldered his bags. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Because what else could she say?

  They headed out the door, he locked it, and then he steered them toward a black Jeep with a canvas top that was rolled down. Bliss spared a moment to worry for her hair blowing in the breeze, but then she thought there were worse problems to have.

  Sky unlocked the Jeep and handed her the keys. Their fingers brushed and she trembled at that light touch. He didn’t seem to be affected because he turned away and went around to the other side, tossing in his bags and climbing into the passenger seat.

  She got into the driver’s side, throwing her computer bag into the back of the vehicle. She had a few clothes stuffed in there too. She’d bought a pack of underwear, a couple of bras, and some T-shirts and yoga pants at Walmart yesterday, so she had clean stuff. But not her usual things.

  She had to slide the seat most of the way forward as she turned the key. And of course she had to adjust the mirrors. Sky sat beside her with a foot on the dash and his arms folded behind his head. Not a care in the world really.

  “Where to?”

  “We’re headed to a motel for the night. I’ll call my bosses when we get there, and then we’ll see what happens.”

  “Please tell me it’s not another roach motel,” she said with a shudder in her voice. She’d been staying in those sorts of places the past two nights.

  “No roaches, but it’s not fancy.” He dragged out his phone, called up Google Maps, and put in a destination. The phone started talking and she obeyed, backing out of the space and heading toward the road. She hesitated at the main road.

  “What?” Sky asked.

  She glanced at him. “Are you yanking my chain or really helping me? That’s what I can’t decide.”

  He laughed. She didn’t like that he did. “Guess you won’t know, will you? You’ll just have to trust me and see.”

  She gripped the wheel. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would turn out as badly as it did. Major Tucker was the only one supposed to get caught up in the sting. He was the one selling information.”

  “If you think that’s what I’m pissed about, then you still don’t understand a fucking thing about me.”

  Chapter Four

  Sky didn’t know why he was here. Not really. Other than the fact he believed there could be something to her story. He liked a puzzle, especially the encrypted kind. He’d thought of kicking her out, but the pull of the computer and the information was too great. Especially when he learned that Bill Martin had been missing for two days.

  He’d searched for information on any gunshot victims recently too, but he hadn’t found any. Not that it would make the news in a city the size of the DC metro area, but he had to check.

  At some point he’d made up his mind to get involved. He’d crawl around the clandestine sites, see what he could find out about what good old Bill was up to. And then he’d set to work breaking into the files Bliss had stolen. But he’d make sure she couldn’t steal back whatever he found. He’d lie about what it was if he had to, though lying was a last resort because he hated deception.

  He damned sure wouldn’t give her access. He was controlling this whole thing from start to finish. If she really was in danger, if this wasn’t a con, then he’d help her get out of the situation.

  But first he had to know what he was dealing with. He’d figure that out once he got her to the motel. Sky didn’t look at her as she drove, though he could see her hair whipping in the wind in his periphery. He could also see her shoving it behind her ears over and over. He stared straight ahead, trying to ignore her Medusa hair, and asked himself what the hell he was doing here. It was a never-ending loop in his brain.

  Finally they reached the motel—a fleabag kind of place off a main road—and he went inside to secure a room. The desk clerk looked up with weary eyes and processed his request with indifference. Then he handed over a key and grunted something about upstairs.

  Sky went back outside and got into the Jeep. “Pull around the back. Room 202.”

  Bliss frowned at him. “This is a dump, Sky. You said it wasn’t a roach motel.”

  “It’s not. More of a flea-infested paradise, I imagine.”

  Bliss shuddered. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “About the fleas? Yeah. Bedbugs though, I don’t know.”

  “Sky!”

  He thought about laughing but didn’t. Bliss was so fucking fancy with her designer clothes, purses, shoes, and Eurotrash cars. He should have never been attracted to her, coming from that kind of life himself—one of excess and luxury that’d imploded in his face�
��but he had been. Her accent wasn’t Harvard though. Bliss was a hillbilly when she didn’t police her words with rigid control. He’d found that fascinating, even when she was embarrassed about it.

  “Where are you from, Bliss? For real this time?”

  She stiffened and then her head whipped around as she stared at him. “What?”

  “I told you that you had to tell the truth. You agreed. Where are you from?”

  Her face contorted, and he knew she was arguing with herself. He only hoped she realized that he knew it too. Because if she lied, he was outta here.

  “Cricket Hollow, Tennessee. It’s in the mountains. Not far from Gatlinburg, but far enough.”

  “You told me you were from Nashville.”

  She shrugged as she pulled into a space. “A white lie.”

  “Is there anything you didn’t lie about?” he asked mildly.

  She twisted the key and fixed him with a glare. “Many things, but you don’t believe that.”

  “Why did you lie about Cricket Hollow?”

  She closed her eyes and snorted. “Because up there we call it Cricket Holler, for one thing. Because there’s one stoplight and one convenience store and one gas station. We mine coal up there, and we pray like hell we can escape. Especially when we’re a Bennett.”

  That was more than she’d ever said about her origins before. “Why do Bennetts want to escape?”

  She shook her head, but she didn’t look at him. “Because some of us don’t want to be dragged into the family business.”

  Getting her to share was like pulling teeth from a bear. “And that would be?”

  She slapped her hands against the wheel. “Dope, Sky. The Bennetts sell dope. They also head on up to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and Sevierville, where they palm wallets and watches from the tourists. Then they pop over to North Carolina and steal big at the casino in Cherokee. And when they want a beach vacation? Biloxi. The Beau Rivage is nice—and filled with gamblers.”

 

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