The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "No, it's not." He glanced down at her, the frown deepening. "There should have been more activity. Police. A tow truck. Something."

  "Maybe they already towed my car—"

  "Your car was in the same spot where we left it."

  Lidiya shifted, tried to wiggle her foot free and quickly gave up. She tightened her arms around her legs with a small sigh. "Maybe nobody heard the shot."

  "Hm. Maybe."

  She didn't have to see his frown to know he didn't believe it, not when the doubt was clear in his voice. And maybe it was unlikely, but Lidiya didn't completely discount the possibility that the shot would have gone unnoticed. Nobody else had been in the parking lot and she didn't think it would have been possible to hear it from inside the bar. And it was doubtful anyone would have noticed the broken window, not unless they were really looking. Even if they did see it, they probably wouldn't think anything of it. She certainly wouldn't.

  Lidiya shifted positions again then rested her cheek against her knee. "What do we do now?"

  "What was that? Stop whispering, I can't hear you."

  She wasn't whispering. At least, not on purpose. She raised her voice and repeated the question.

  "Now we go to your place. And you can sit back up, there's no need to stay on the floor."

  Lidiya nodded. Wiggled her foot. Sighed and slid a cautious glance at the man driving. "I—I can't."

  "What do you mean, you can't?"

  "My foot's stuck."

  "What?" Chaos glanced down at her, his gaze quickly sweeping over her. The corner of his mouth twitched. "You're stuck?"

  "I—" Lidiya stopped and cleared her throat as heat rushed to her face. "I'll be fine. I can wait."

  "Jesus."

  The truck slowed again then made a series of turns before coming to a stop. Chaos muttered something under his breath as he threw the vehicle into Park then climbed out. A few seconds later, the passenger door opened then Chaos was right there, standing next to her, his face level with hers. And yes, she'd been right about the twitch she noticed earlier because the man was definitely trying not to smile.

  Searing blue eyes held hers for a few seconds, long enough for her mouth to dry and for her heart to make a series of very unwelcome thump-thumps in her chest. Lidiya yanked her gaze from his and focused on the edge of the leather seat in front of her.

  "How the hell did you manage this?"

  "I don't know. I shifted and my foot just...it got stuck."

  Chaos slid his hand along her leg, his warm fingers closing over her ankle. Her foot twitched and she made a small sound, almost like a whimper. His gaze shot back to hers, darker this time, the earlier amusement gone. His fingers, long and strong and capable, probed her ankle and the top of her foot.

  "Does that hurt?"

  "N-no." Lidiya shook her head, wondered if he could see the heavy blush heating her face. Hurt? No, it didn't hurt at all—and God help her if he picked up on the sudden flare of interest that exploded in her chest.

  She pushed the unexpected reaction away, ignored the tingles racing up her legs from his touch as he felt around her foot. He wasn't watching her foot, though, not that he could even see it, with the way it was wedged under the seat. His gaze was on her. Deep and dark and searing. Completely focused, like she was the only thing he could see. Heat prickled her skin, made her want to fidget and squirm and crawl into his lap and purr and oh, God, she could not think like that. Couldn't allow him to see even the remotest hint of interest. Couldn't allow herself to even think about entertaining the thoughts creeping to the front of her mind.

  She didn't know him. Didn't trust him, not really. Yes, he was attractive, she'd thought that much when he had first approached her in the bar. Dark hair and vibrant blue eyes and chiseled face and lean build and...she shivered and pulled her mind from that line of thought. No, she absolutely could not allow herself to think in those terms. She was just tired. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, after the night's events. After realizing—after admitting, to herself at least—that she was in more danger than she first thought. That her two years of forced isolation hadn't protected her, that she was no safer now than she had been when she first tried to disappear.

  Her reaction to the man leaning so close to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body brushing against her, was perfectly normal after the night's events. After the last two years of isolation. Not just normal, but probably to be expected since he had saved her earlier. She was probably just viewing him with some kind of hero-worship that would completely disappear after she had some sleep and was able to think more clearly. She just needed a little time and distance, needed to mentally separate herself from everything that had happened the last few hours. Once she did that, this unsettling attraction would disappear.

  That couldn't happen soon enough, as far as she was concerned. Logically, she understood the reason for the unexpected lure. But logic couldn't stop her body's reaction to his gentle touch as he ran those strong fingers along her foot and ankle. And it couldn't stop the way her heart sped up as his gaze locked with hers, searing and intense and totally unreadable.

  With more strength than she thought it would take, Lidiya yanked her gaze from his and frantically searched for something, anything, to use as a distraction. Her mind latched onto something that had bothered her earlier, something simple and mundane that had been momentarily lost in everything else that had happened.

  Only the question she had planned to ask wasn't the one that fell from her mouth.

  "Whose clothes are these?"

  The corner his mouth twitched again, the sight of the almost-smile causing her to blush. "A friend."

  "Just a friend?"

  "Just a friend."

  Lidiya nodded, like it made no difference to her at all. And it didn't. It shouldn't. It couldn't. She repeated that to herself three times then asked the question she had meant to ask in the first place.

  "What's your name?"

  His fingers curled around her foot and gently turned it to the side, freeing it from whatever she'd been foolish enough to catch it on. He skimmed his fingers across her ankle, gently squeezed, then stepped back, giving her some much-needed breathing room. "Chaos."

  She slanted a frustrated glance in his direction then uncurled her legs with a small wince. "I meant your real name."

  He watched her for a long minute, those intense blue eyes oddly blank. It was nothing more than an illusion because she knew, as certain as she knew her own name, that his mind was working at a speed she could only guess at.

  He took another step back and shrugged, as if whatever decision he'd just made was of no importance. "Derrick."

  "Derrick." She softly repeated the name, tasting the strength of it on her lips. "And your last name?"

  One brow shot up as amusement flashed in his eyes. "You don't need to worry about that."

  "But—" She stopped before she said anything else, before she pushed the issue. If she did, he might ask for her last name and she wasn't ready to share that with him. Not yet, maybe not ever. She doubted it would mean anything to him, doubted he'd make connections she'd prefer to keep hidden, but it wasn't a chance she wanted to take. Not now.

  She pushed up from the floor and settled in the seat, stretched her cramped legs in front of her and reached for the seatbelt. He gave her an odd look, almost like he didn't understand why she hadn't pushed for an answer, but he didn't say anything as he closed the door.

  No, she wouldn't push. There was no need to, not when she knew all about secrets. Let him have his.

  Because she certainly had enough of her own.

  Chapter Seven

  The hallway was deserted when they stepped off the elevator forty minutes later. Lidiya had expected as much—the residents of the old building were quiet for the most part, at least on this floor. She'd caught glimpses of a few of her neighbors over the last two years, nothing more than distorted images as she sneaked glances through the small
peephole of her door. They were a diverse mix, old and young, doing nothing more than scraping by and minding their own business. Why worry about anyone else, when it was hard enough to worry about yourself?

  Even if one of them happened to be curious enough to open their door and look out to see who was stepping off the elevator at such a late hour, she doubted any of them would know who she was. She'd never met any of her neighbors, had never introduced herself, never passed them in the halls or ran into them on those rare occasions she stepped outside. Lidiya didn't leave her apartment, not unless she absolutely had to, and only then when she was sure nobody was around.

  Not that anyone would bother to look out—this wasn't the kind of neighborhood where people went out of their way to look out for their neighbors. It wasn't a bad neighborhood, not compared to some, but it was still in a location where it was safer to mind your own business.

  She led the way down the narrow hall, her sock-covered feet soundless against the cracked tile floor. Chaos was directly behind her, his steps just as soundless as hers. Could he see the faded, chipped paint on the old walls? Smell the mustiness of years of neglect? If she turned to look at him, what would she see on his face? Disgust? Pity? Surprise?

  Probably none of those things. His face would be impassive, showing absolutely nothing.

  Funny, how she could be so certain of that when she didn't even know him.

  Lidiya stopped in front of her door and motioned to it with a weak wave of one hand. Chaos—no, Derrick, she should use his real name after making such a point of learning it—spared her a quick glance that she couldn't read then reached around and tried the knob. Lidiya released the breath she'd been holding, so afraid the door would be unlocked, that someone might have been here already. That they might still be here, waiting—

  She pulled in another breath, fought to control the odd panicky sensation. She was overreacting—again. A hot shower, a change of clothes, and several hours' sleep would take care of that.

  Derrick reached around her and used the key he'd taken from her purse to unlock the door. He grabbed her when she would have pushed past him, kept her behind him so he could enter the apartment first.

  There was no need to turn on a light, because she always left one on. Now she wished she had turned it off, if for no other reason than to hide the reaction of the man in front of her. He was better at hiding his reactions than she realized because the slight stiffening of his body was the only indication of his surprise as he looked around. She didn't need to follow his gaze to know what he saw. It was a small apartment, there wasn't much to see. At least, not in the way of furnishings.

  Derrick closed the door behind them, gave her a wary glance, then turned back to study the open room that encompassed living area, dining area, and kitchen all-in-one.

  "Jesus. It looks like mission control for the zombie apocalypse."

  Lidiya looked around, trying to see things from the perspective of an outsider, and realized his description was surprisingly accurate. A large L-shaped desk constructed of heavy plywood and concrete blocks took up the right corner that would be the living room in any other apartment. The surface was almost completely covered with computer equipment: four separate monitors, four towers, two laptops, several printers and scanners, three keyboards. An old metal filing cabinet was wedged under the desk, the drawers dented and battered. An office chair, the cloth seat and arms showing wear, rested at an angle between two of the monitors. Thick books and heavy manuals were stacked on the floor. One book rested on the corner of the desk, opened to the middle pages. A pad of paper and several pens rested nearby.

  Other than the desk and chair, there was no other furniture. There was no furniture in what was supposed to be the dining area, either. There were shelving units instead. Three of them, to be exact: two large metal ones like the kind you would see in a restaurant storage room, and one smaller plastic unit. The shelves were crammed with canned goods and boxed foods. Oatmeal. Soup. Vegetables. Cereal. Powdered milk. Mixed fruit. Coffee and sugar. Spaghetti and jars of sauce. Boxes of pens and stacks of notebooks.

  Derrick moved over to one of the shelves, picked up a can of Spam and turned it over before putting it back. He shook his head then looked back at her.

  "Jesus. Tell me you don't actually eat that shit."

  "No, not really." Not unless she had to. Her meals now mostly consisted of home delivery kits but she had to be prepared, just in case.

  "So what are you, a hoarder? Or one of those nutjob survivalists?"

  "Neither. I—I work from home so I don't get out much."

  One dark brow shot up in surprise but he didn't question her further. Lidiya was grateful for that because she wasn't sure how she'd answer if he did. She tugged at the front of the too-small shirt he'd given her earlier then shifted her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly uncomfortable. Not because he was studying her—he wasn't, his gaze was moving over the array of computer equipment behind her—but because she felt too exposed in the ill-fitting clothes that didn't belong to her.

  Lidiya cleared her throat, started to thank him for bringing her home. She never had a chance to get the words out because he was suddenly right in front of her, invading her space as he pulled her against him with a strength that took her breath away.

  "Wha—" Her question died as his mouth crashed over hers. Hot. Powerful. Demanding. She started to push him away, relented and melted against him, her hands clinging to his arms for support. As quickly as the kiss started, it stopped. Lidiya blinked, tried to catch her breath, tried to make sense of what just happened when he spoke in her ear.

  "Do you leave your camera on?"

  "What? I—" She blinked, shook her head, started to ask him what he meant only to be stopped by another kiss, this one quicker than the first. He broke the kiss again and nuzzled her ear.

  "The camera on the first computer is active. Did you leave it on?"

  Lidiya's heart slammed into her chest, releasing the first wave of cold panic. She shook her head, started to turn around only to be stopped by Derrick's hand cupping her cheek. He kissed her again and this time, she could feel his reassurance. His strength. His unspoken promise that everything would be okay.

  "Where's your bedroom?"

  "Um, behind you. Down the hall."

  His hands closed over her waist and he lifted her, the sudden action startling a surprised cry from her. She grabbed his shoulders, stifled another small cry when he fitted her legs around his waist and started walking backward, toward her bedroom. A smile curled his mouth but his eyes were eerily cold, devoid of any emotion. A chill went through her—from the vacant expression in his eyes, from the certainty that his cold smile was a show for the camera, from the fear they were being watched. Was someone outside in the hall even now, ready to break down her door and rush in? Another chill swept over her, this one starting at the vulnerable spot in the middle of her back and working its way out to her limbs. Derrick's arms tightened around her.

  "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

  She wanted to question him, ask him how he could be so sure and why he would even care when she had been the one to drag him into this...whatever this was. But they were in her room now and she was sliding down Derrick's body, her hands still clinging to him, afraid to let go even when he stepped away and closed the door.

  He held one finger to his mouth, signaling silence, then did a quick survey of the small room. He leaned closer, pressed his mouth against her ear and spoke. "When I tell you to go, we go. Got it?"

  Lidiya nodded, not that it mattered because he was already moving away from her, kneeling on the floor in front of one of the receptacles. He pulled something from his back pocket and started removing the outlet cover. She almost asked him what he was doing then thought better of it. There wasn't time.

  She moved to her closet and eased open the door. Stood on her toes and slid the panel from the small compartment she had installed herself above the top shelf two y
ears ago to the side. Her fingers closed over heavy plastic and she yanked on it, pulling it from its hiding place. She studied the thick plastic wrap covering the bag, making sure it hadn't been tampered with, then tore it away from the small backpack she had hidden when she first disappeared a lifetime ago.

  Just in case.

  She had just placed one strap over her shoulder when she heard a small pop. The lights went out immediately, plunging the room into total darkness. Something grabbed her and she made a small noise, a breathless squeak that had been meant as a scream.

  "Let's go."

  Derrick led her from the room, his hand wrapped around hers with a reassuring grip. She held on, letting him lead her through the small apartment, wondering at how easily he made his way through the darkness.

  It wasn't just her apartment that was dark—the hallway was dark as well, the only illumination coming from the ineffectual glow of the emergency exit light near the stairwell. Whatever he'd done had caused the power to go out on the entire floor, maybe the entire building.

  Which meant they had to walk down twelve flights of stairs.

  She started to pull against his hand, to tell him she needed to go back to get shoes because she was still wearing nothing but socks. His fingers tightened around hers as he lengthened his stride, leading her toward the stairwell.

  He paused a few feet from the door and dropped her hand, reached into his pocket then paused. His gaze landed on the bag hanging from her shoulder and he frowned.

  "You need to leave it—"

  "No. It goes with me."

  "Dammit, Lee, you don't know if it's safe."

  By safe, he meant she didn't know if it had been tampered with. If anyone had placed any trackers on it or its contents. Lidiya shrugged the free strap over her other shoulder and leveled her most determined look at him. "It's safe. I'd bet my life on it."

  "You just might be—only it happens to be my life, too." He didn't say anything else, just pulled whatever he'd been reaching for from his pocket. There was a faint scratching noise then the flare of a bright flame. "Stand back unless you want a shower."