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Anti Hero

Page 14

by Skye Warren


  Moreland had attempted to deny everything, but the evidence and public opinion turned against him. Pundits flooded the political talk shows denouncing him, declaring that they had always known something was wrong. Dawson had gotten further in his denials, claiming that he’d only been a contributor to Moreland’s campaign. Until a search warrant had uncovered a half-dozen women in the basement of his Austin mansion.

  “Great interview,” Brian said, removing his suit jacket.

  “Thanks. That means a lot from you.” He had a decade of experience on her, and she looked up to him.

  He gave the tech a look, and he hurried away with her microphone. “Do you want to grab a drink? It helps me unwind after the tough stories.”

  Her eyebrows went up. Was he asking her on a date? “I’m sorry, but I need to get back to the hospital.”

  “Back to Nathaniel Gaines.”

  “Yes, back to Nate.”

  He nodded, a slight smile on his handsome face. “If that ever changes, be sure to look me up.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” came a voice she recognized.

  She whirled to see Nate standing there. A blink and he was still there. Not an illusion. She glanced back, but Brian was already walking away, a knowing glint in his eyes. He followed the sound guys out of the room, leaving them alone.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” she demanded.

  He glared at the door where Brian had just left. “That fucker.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to pull your stitches out.”

  His gaze met hers, dark and intent. “I had to see you.”

  “I was going back in an hour!”

  “An hour was too long.” He glanced at the chair where she’d sat for the past hour and a half. “You were brilliant, by the way. Smart, passionate. Fucking gorgeous.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “You saw the interview?”

  “You really thought Ford would keep me in the hospital?”

  “I had hoped so, yeah.”

  That lopsided smile. He took a step forward, and she backed up. Another step and her legs were touching the interview chair. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He held up a loop of black rope. “Turnabout is fair play, gorgeous.”

  Her jaw dropped. “We’re in a public place.”

  “I think what’s his face got the message loud and clear. We won’t be disturbed.”

  “His name is Brian James, and he’s an award-winning national journalist, because this is a TV station!”

  Nate glanced at the cameras, which had gone dark when Brian signed off. “You worried about a sex tape leaking out?”

  For a minute she couldn’t speak, shock and lust warring within her. “No,” she managed. “I’m not worried about a sex tape, because we’re not having sex. Not here.”

  He studied the plush chairs with a critical eye. “You’re right. Too soft. You need something hard.”

  With that he took her hand and dragged her around the back wall of the set, into the dark cavern that the fake back created. Then his hand was on her jaw, cupping her, lifting her chin so that he could sip at her lips. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth until she went slack, letting him in, letting him back her up against the metal frame that formed the wall.

  She melted against the cool ribbed metal, relishing the hard heat of him in front of her. Her body flamed with want, with need, the musky male scent of him triggering every feminine instinct.

  His large hand drifted up her stomach, raising her sweater and exposing her bra. His thumb worked over the fabric, peaking her nipple. She gasped into his mouth, wanting more. Wanting exactly what he said: something hard. She needed him.

  He pulled her wrist behind her back, and she froze. “Nate?”

  His head lifted, revealing lust-drenched eyes. He pulled her other hand behind her back and worked the rope around her wrists. “Yes, gorgeous?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making something clear.”

  The knot tightened, holding her arms back. The position pushed her breasts forward into his chest. He looked at them with appreciation and pure carnal hunger. He ran one fingertip along the edge of her bra before tugging it down, exposing her pale flesh and tight nipple.

  It was hard to swallow, even harder to form words. “Making what clear?”

  He captured her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling until her hips arched into him. His gaze remained direct on hers. “I let you go once. That was my mistake, but it’s over now.”

  Her breath caught. “O-over?”

  “Over. You’re mine now. That means it’s my responsibility. My right.” He bent and licked her nipple, the slick texture of his tongue making her gasp. “My privilege to keep you safe.”

  Her moan was the only answer she could give.

  “You want a fucking house in the hills?” he breathed against her neck. “You want a mansion? I have a pile of money sitting in the bank, because I never wanted anything. Only you.”

  His other hand pulled her skirt up, and then he groaned as his fingers felt bare skin. “Thigh highs. Fucking thigh highs. You know how hot it makes me when you wear these.”

  “I thought about you when I put them on,” she whispered, but he’d been in a hospital bed. Too weak to do anything sexual yet, at least that was what she’d thought. Turned out he could dominate her with just a look.

  Especially when he got on his knees. “Your knee,” she said weakly.

  He ignored her, pushing her skirt higher.

  You think a busted knee is going to keep me from you? I could break every bone in my body and still fuck you just fine. I could be broken to shit, but I could still make you come with just my tongue.

  He’d said that to her once, and he was proving it now. He’d been shot, beaten. He’d been to the brink of death, but he was here, making her body shudder and clench.

  Blunt fingers pushed aside her panties, finding her wet. “That’s right,” he murmured. “Give me something to drink.”

  A shiver ran through her. God, how she must look. Her breasts were exposed, her arms tied behind her back. The metal wall held her up, and then he bent his head. The first lick brought her to her toes. The second made her cry out.

  “Louder,” he muttered against her clit. “I want that fucker to hear you scream my name.”

  “Oh God,” she sobbed, because it felt so good. She needed to be quiet, but he was licking her in the fast, insistent way that made her go crazy. Then his lips fastened around her clit, sucking her hard.

  Her wordless sound echoed back to her.

  “More,” Nate demanded, sliding his finger inside her to the hilt. Her muscles clenched around him, holding him in, until he worked another finger inside. Then he stroked, finding that magic place, teasing her clit.

  She rocked her hips against his face, moaning, begging. He’d been right when he said she needed something hard. He knew that about her. It had shamed her at first, but he had taught her to accept the pleasure where she found it—under his calloused hands, around his thick cock. At the edge of his teeth as they grazed her clit. The hint of danger brought her orgasm to the surface, and as pulses overtook her body, she screamed his name.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  A sound jarred Sofia from slumber. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. The book she’d been reading lay askew on the pillow. The lamp cast an eerie glow against the dark window.

  Another sound, this one clearer. The scuff of a shoe on hardwood?

  It was barely there, maybe a whisper, but she felt something else. A presence. Her skin prickled with awareness that she was no longer alone.

  Her phone was charging on the side table, but who would she call? She knew from experience that 911 wouldn’t reach her in time if someone were truly inside her house. And Nate had to go dark during his missions, both for her safety and the safety of his team.

  Her gaze darted to the closet, that deep part of her wanting to hide. To turn the f
limsy lock as if that would be enough.

  Except she was through being that girl.

  She was stronger now—and infinitely more powerful. Nate had given her that. Thinking of him firmed her resolve.

  In a smooth move, she rolled out of the bed and pulled the Sig from the side-table drawer. Her feet spread apart, her breath even. Only her heart betrayed any emotion, pounding through her veins like a war drum.

  She took aim at the door as it eased open, casting a shadowed arc on the floor.

  A man dressed in black stepped inside, combat boots on his feet, clearly armed based on his gait and the bulk at his sides. His broad shoulders and powerful chest tapered to a lean waist. The hard look in his eyes spoke to violence, to the capacity to kill.

  Sofia dropped her arms and swore. “I could have shot you.”

  She had wanted to learn to shoot, but Nate had taken it one step further. He’d insisted that she be able to draw her gun in any situation at any time. And he liked to test her to drive his point home. Their training was dangerous and spontaneous and ridiculously sexy.

  “Bulletproof vest,” Nate said with a lopsided grin. In two strides he was in front of her, his hands cupping her face, his forehead pressed to hers. “Besides, you still had the safety on. We talked about that.”

  She tried to hold on to her anger—what if he’d been hurt? But all she felt was relief at the feel of him, the familiar musky scent of him. Relief and desire as her body fell under his thrall. “I missed you.”

  “Me too, gorgeous,” he murmured.

  She shoved the gun back into the drawer. “Well?”

  “This is off the record, right?”

  That earned him a raised eyebrow. “Do I have to tie you up again?”

  A dangerous glint entered his eyes. “I’d love to see you try.” With slow, careful movements, he took off his jacket, then his bulletproof vest. He hadn’t been joking about that, at least. “But don’t worry. I’ll tell you about our confidential op.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied his stiff movements. “Oh God, you’re hurt.”

  He gave her a scowl, which proved she was right. She helped him take off the thin black T-shirt and gasped at the bandages that circled his ribs. When he’d left two days ago the skin had still been yellow, almost tinged green, the aftermath of vicious bruises. Now it looked like he’d been injured even worse.

  “It’s only a fracture,” he said.

  “A rib fracture is a big deal!”

  “Three ribs, technically.”

  The sound she made was a mixture of frustration and grief. “Oh, Nate.”

  He sat down, unable to fully hide his wince. Then he tugged her down beside him on the bed. “It was worth it. We found them.”

  Her heart seemed to expand. The lamp highlighted the scruff on his face, the exhaustion around his eyes, the pain in his body—all of which spoke to his heroism. Though it didn’t make him comfortable to discuss, he no longer denied it either.

  “Tell me,” she said softly, her hand in his.

  “There were more than they thought,” he said grimly. “There were forty women in the hold. Two hostiles died in the exchange, four are sitting in FBI interrogation rooms right now. We also recovered the hard drives before they could wipe them.”

  Bittersweet hope tightened her throat. Those hard drives would mean they could find the women who were no longer being held by the human traffickers—the ones who had already been sold. “Thank you.”

  He glanced at her. “Allison was there.”

  Remy’s sister. “Oh my God, that’s amazing. She’ll be so glad.”

  “She didn’t want to see Remy. Refused, actually.”

  “Oh,” Sofia said, swallowing past a lump in her throat. Remy had been reluctant to accept a deal. About as reluctant as the district attorney had been to prosecute a member of the press and the circus act that would have followed. In the end Remy’s testimony had helped put away the big fish, and they’d settled on a plea for probation.

  Remy still blamed herself for her sister’s abduction.

  And Andre still hadn’t hired her back, leaving the desk empty months later.

  “She doesn’t blame Remy, does she?”

  Nate shook his head, his eyes haunted. “I don’t think so. The women…they’ve been through a lot. They’re different now.”

  She rested her cheek against his shoulder, knowing that he understood that difference better than most. He’d been tortured, hurt. He had believed he would die in that jungle. And he would never be the same because of it. Not only his knee had been shattered in that horrible place.

  But he had pieced himself back together, made himself into someone stronger. Someone who had saved all those women. It wasn’t only strength that won a fight. His bravery, his heart. That honor that refused to be knocked down.

  “I know it must have been hard for you.” To see those women, she meant.

  His silence acknowledged that. Then, softly, “It will be hard for you too.”

  He knew where she’d be tomorrow and the days following, as the women were released from FBI custody. Some of the women would want to return to their families, to piece together some sense of normalcy.

  Other women would want to tell their stories, and the world needed to hear them. For truth, for bravery. For every girl who had ever huddled in a closet.

  “Tomorrow,” she said softly.

  Despite the amazing things Nate and his team had accomplished, there were more women to be rescued. More dragons to be slain. There was always another fight on the horizon. That knowledge didn’t fill her with desperation like it had before, but with hope.

  He nodded in agreement, turning her face to his. Every kiss he gave her was different, some hungry, some commanding. This one came with infinite tenderness, with never-ending promise.

  “Tomorrow,” he agreed.

  “As long as you’re with me, I can face anything.”

  It wasn’t only the outside world that they had to fight. It was the fear they had inside, every time he left for a secret op, every time she pursued a story for the paper.

  He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t known she’d shed. “As long as you’re with me, gorgeous, I have a reason to fight.”

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading Anti Hero! I hope you love Nate and Sofia!

  As a free bonus book, On the Way Home is included for you to read next. That changes the percentages, but don’t worry – both Anti Hero and On the Way Home are full-length novels, so you’re not missing anything! Here’s what it’s about…

  Clint

  For eight months I’ve been deep under cover as a special operator in the Army. On the plane ride home, all I want is a hot shower and a long sleep. But a Dear John text message leaves me stranded. I need a ride and a place to stay, and the pretty stewardess is more than willing.

  Della

  It’s supposed to be a simple trade—the passenger in seat 34B for my sister. But the sexy soldier is more than I can handle in all the best ways. He trusts me, but I can’t save him. No one can. Sometimes trouble has a way of following you home.

  And you can read the full book absolutely free! Turn the page to begin…

  Prologue

  Three plants lined up in a row on my windowsill, framed by the butterfly curtains Caro had made. My science-fair experiment was going to test how well plants grew under harsh conditions. That meant depriving them of water, of sunlight. And I just couldn’t do it. I was supposed to choose which plant would live and which one would die. It felt mean.

  Now all the plants were the same size, and I had no idea how to explain that in my report.

  Frowning, I tried to remember what the teacher had said, something about the difference between the result and the conclusion. I bit my lip. This was important. I’d told my teacher I wanted to be a nurse, and she hadn’t laughed. She said I better learn science if I was going to be a nurse, so I wanted to get this right.<
br />
  A crash came from outside, and the pencil fell out of my hand, clattering on the desk.

  Caro had been painting her nails purple, but now she stopped halfway through. She put a finger to her mouth. Shhh. She pressed against the door, trying to listen to the conversation. She always got to listen, and I had to do my homework. I wanted to hear too.

  More shouts came, but they were too muffled to understand. Georgia was out there, with the grownups. Ever since she had turned seventeen and started her secret job at night, she got to be out there when they were fighting. Georgia got to be in the living room and Caro got to listen at the door, but I was supposed to finish my science report. It wasn’t fair.

  The sound of someone getting slapped made me wince.

  “I’m going out there,” Caro said. Her face was as serious as I’d ever seen her. She didn’t even look as scared as I felt. “Whatever happens, don’t come out, okay?”

  I nodded quickly. My stomach felt like it was tearing itself up inside. Besides, I didn’t want to go out there anymore. Shouting was okay, but hitting hurt. A lot.

  Caro stepped forward and gripped both sides of my face. It made me tense even though I knew she’d never hurt me. Her gaze was steady on mine, clear as a sunny day. “I’m serious. When I walk outta this room, you lock the door behind me. No matter what you hear, you don’t come out. Promise me that.”

  I swallowed. “Okay. I promise.”

  She stood by the door another second. It got all quiet outside, the silence so loud I could hear it buzzing in my ears. Then she slipped into the dark hallway. I followed her to the door and turned the lock inside the knob. I knew it wouldn’t really hold someone back, but usually no one came to our room. My heart thudded in my chest. I could feel its beat all the way out to my fingers and toes, like the way your whole body thumps when a car with loud music rolls by.

  Caro wasn’t here to stop me anymore, so I pressed my ear to the door. Couldn’t hear anything, though. Maybe she had calmed everyone down. She did that for me too, holding me at night if I had bad dreams.

 

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