by L B Wyatt
The Dead Rogue
A Veronica Covey Case
LB Wyatt
Copyright © 2020 LB WYATT
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798615812255
Chapter One
It was those piercing deep green eyes that first woke her. She could see them so clearly in her mind, looking right through every part of her. She hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time they had met he handed her a sealed manila envelope, but gave it a gentle tug before she completely took it. His hesitancy to hand it over had caused her to look up at him in curiosity.
“Thank you again,” he had said. His voice had sent shivers of pleasure down her spine.
She had just nodded at him, unsure of what else was left to say. The information caught between both their grasps in that moment was all the repayment she had requested for helping him save his wife. He released the papers and she felt
elated for finally having her hands on something she had wanted for so long. But she never showed her emotions. She kept her expression stony even though her heart betrayed her in so many ways. She wished she could have requested a night with him in addition to her repayment. Just one, so she could kill her desire for him once and for all.
There was no telling where the dream would have gone had she stayed asleep. A part of her regretted the sudden jolt to consciousness, while another part of her was glad she wasn’t lying in her bed dreaming of another woman’s husband. Yes, while it was Logan Hook’s haunting eyes that jarred her in her sleep, it was another unwelcomed pair that jarred her back to reality in the dim light of her bedroom.
Veronica blinked once slowly and breathed in deeply, calmly. She was on her stomach, a position she rarely ever found good rest in, yet here she was, with her back to the enemy. Her heart thudded with adrenaline before she finally calmed it back down. She slipped her arm upwards, gently and carefully feeling for the cold, crisp metal of the protection she always kept under her pillow only to find with some alarm that it was not there. How could someone have broken into her apartment and stolen her gun right from under her? She felt like a fool, but she certainly wouldn’t die like one. There were other tools in her arsenal she could and would use.
“You even frown in your sleep.”
The deep timbre was a familiar one. Her nose should have told her who her intruder was, but her mind had been racing and hadn’t connected the dots. She recognized that cologne; after all, she had bought it for him on more than one occasion. She cautiously rolled over, propping her elbows behind her on the bed so they were facing one another. She was thankful for the poor lighting and that it hid the embarrassment on her face. She prided herself on her vigilance and keen sense of danger. Her intellect had let her down tonight. Big time.
“What are you doing here, Quinn?” she demanded unkindly. She could see the outline of his figure in the chair by the window. He encompassed the entire piece of furniture, making it look like something built for a child. How had this massive slab of muscle eased his way inside her room and not shook the entire place with every step? His stealthy ability had always impressed her, but she’d cut her own tongue out before she told him that. He was a master at being devious, surreptitious, and mischievous. It was no wonder he was one of the most prized agents the government had ever employed. It would certainly be nice to know why he was creeping in her bedroom at two a.m.
“Watching you sleep,” he replied honestly. “It’s nice to see you that way.”
“What way?” she bit back, feeling fire boiling in her gut.
“Vulnerable,” he answered and she could hear the smirk on his face without fully seeing it.
He knew that word had always been one of her least favorites. It certainly wasn’t a quality she possessed and he damn well knew it. He was just trying to get a rise out of her and it was working.
“Screw you, Murphy,” she hissed, throwing the covers back.
“God, I wish you would.” He stood from the chair as he spoke and Veronica paused in her efforts to spring from her bed in a fit of rage. She wasn’t wearing much. She had been exhausted from a long day at the station and after a much needed hot shower, she had opted for black underwear, no bra and tank top to sleep in. Damn him, she thought. She wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone or anything. Including an old flame with an ego the size of Texas.
“What are you really doing here?” she demanded again, more sternly if that was even possible. She stood from her bed and crossed her arms defiantly, though it was just a subtle way to cover her breasts from the sudden change in temperature.
Quinn rose from the chair with purpose, his dark frame casting formidable shadows across the carpet. He took a silent step closer to her and then another. He was standing a few feet away now, looking down at her intently. Veronica held her own, pushing her chin out a little as if she were looking down at him, though in reality there was no way she could. He stood half a foot taller than her and she wasn’t short. She was five-foot six inches, but she felt small in his overwhelming presence. Through the dim light in the hall, she could see his strong jaw shadowed in dark stubble and working as if he were angry. She thought perhaps it wasn’t anger he was trying to control but lust. And just that thought alone made her breath catch a little. He truly was a beautiful man and that dream sure had her worked up…what would it hurt to just play around for a little while?
No! Her common sense screamed inside her mind. Quinn was handsome, and he knew it all too well. She had caught him in too many compromising situations to ever trust him again.
“Tell me you didn’t see me earlier tonight?” he ground out, no hint of the Boston accent he should have carried considering that’s where he told her he was from. Truth be told, Veronica didn’t know where he was really from—except maybe nowhere and everywhere.
Her eyes flickered away for a second and she shook her head in denial. Yes, she had seen him tonight, there was no doubt. He had been standing at one end of the crime scene and she had been at the other. She caught his eye briefly before ducking behind a hoard of other officers standing around the yellow tape. She had been in the area when the call of a homicide came through on her radio and she had been obligated to stop. The FBI was already there and the locals had it covered. She hadn’t been assigned to the case, so she hightailed it out of there. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought about him after she got home. Every time she walked through her apartment door that large sealed envelope just waiting to be opened distracted her from every other thought she might have had.
And with that notion, her head turned unwillingly to look down the hall toward the kitchen where she had left it. She cursed herself again. Normally she kept it locked away in the safe inside her closet. Tonight, she had been foolish and reckless. Quinn had to have seen it on the counter on his way in. Unless he climbed nine stories through her window. She certainly wouldn’t put it past him. She’d known him to do crazier and more dangerous things than just scale the side of a building.
She felt his hand on the side of her face just then, pulling her attention back to him. She turned her head up, looking into his face and she felt her hair brush the small of her bare back where her top had rode up. She shivered involuntarily and hated the way he made her feel sometimes. He had always been a weakness of hers and over the years she had taken it as a challenge. The better she resisted him, the stronger of a person she felt. In addition, the more she rejected, the more he seemed to want her. It was a fun game of cat and mouse.
She reached up, placing her hand over his and took in a breath of his masculinity. It was overpowering and she almost didn’t complete the task she had set out to do. She swallowed, gathering her senses and finally pushed his hand away roughly.
“The fact that I didn’t say hi should have sp
oke volumes,” she growled at him.
“I took it as a challenge,” he smirked.
She fought not to smirk right back. They were a challenge to one another indeed. “Where’s my gun?” she asked instead.
His grin widened into a full-fledged smile as he said with a wink, “It’s in my pocket.”
She groaned and backed away from him. “You are so juvenile,” she grumbled and walked toward the hallway. She felt his hand enclose around her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks.
“Yeah, and you’ve missed me, haven’t you?” he accused, pulling her back so they were facing each other once more. He pushed her hair over her shoulder, running his fingers through the soft tresses. He kept his one hand firmly on her arm, careful not to let her escape while he traced the bare, delicate skin of her other arm with the back of his knuckles.
If he was trying to sway her with romantics, he should have known better. His tender gesture was rejected with a harsh look as she jerked her head out of reach. She watched then as his eyes darkened a shade and he plunged his long fingers into her hair at the base of her neck, tugging it roughly to force her head back. An involuntary gasp escaped her, but it was the only protest she was allowed before his lips were on hers.
Veronica cursed inwardly, trying to pull away. Somehow he’d manipulated her against the wall by the light-switch and she could feel it digging deep into the center of her back as he pushed his weight into her body. She wedged her free arm between their bodies, placing her palm flat on his broad chest so there was at least something still separating them. She felt him pull harder at her hair, making her more submissive than she normally would have been. Like a kitten pinched at the neck, she was almost paralyzed.
Her lips parted for him and he took the kiss deeper. He devoured her mouth hungrily, his breath becoming her own and Veronica felt her defenses fall a notch. Damn him to hell, she thought savagely. No matter how conniving and deceitful he could be, Quinn Murphy was and would always be one hell of a kisser. She relaxed for a moment, but she shouldn’t have. He took the tension leaving her shoulders as an invitation and it most certainly wasn’t. It was just a moment of weakness.
She felt his hand leave her hair to explore other territory and as soon as his grip on her arm was loosed, Veronica broke their heated kiss by ducking and dodging right out her bedroom door. She kept walking down the hallway even when she felt him closing in on her. She ignored the slow simmer in her blood at his touch, refusing to give in to the carnal sensations he had awakened within her.
“You can’t just break into my apartment and maul me, Quinn.”
“Why not?” he asked playfully, grabbing her hips from behind. Stopped with the motion, Veronica stood still for a moment and her eyes saw what they needed to: the envelope was still on the bar, right where she’d left it.
“Are you still upset over Reno?” he asked, dipping his head low to nip at her lower earlobe.
She pulled away, but the movement just exposed her neck where he promptly took the opportunity and buried his face. She shivered as his coarse facial hair scraped across the delicate flesh of her throat and she told herself it felt horrible and she hated it, but she was clearly lying.
Yes, she was still upset about Reno. That would forever be the reason she could never trust this man. Before she had to resist him all over again, Veronica heard the unfamiliar ringtone of Quinn’s cell. She felt the air leave his lungs, showering her flesh with a hot breath and causing goose bumps to spring up throughout her upper body. His hands dropped from her waist and Veronica turned, taking several steps back.
“Get out, Murphy,” she ordered, thankful that his phone had momentarily distracted him.
Quinn glanced up from his screen to study her. “Is that what you really want?” he questioned, silencing his phone and pushing it back into his jacket pocket.
“Yes.” She set her jaw firm, her expression like a brick wall. He started toward her with long, deliberate strides and Veronica held her breath until he brushed by her. She kept her shoulders straight, feeling disappointment when he sidestepped right into the kitchen instead of walking out her door. She had figured he was giving up a little too easily and she was upset with herself for thinking she could get rid of him so soon. She knew Quinn well, and he was relentless when he set his mind to something. She had once admired that about him. She couldn’t help but wonder what he had set his mind on for tonight? What was his real reason for coming here?
She turned slow, calculating eyes in his direction and watched as he opened her fridge and snorted when he saw his only option were dark bottles of Guinness. She didn’t even like the taste of beer, but occasionally it took the edge off. Her father had given her her first taste of the nasty stuff when she was just eleven years old. She could still see the way his eyes crinkled at the edges as he laughed at the expression of distaste on her youthful face when the alcohol hit her tongue. It was all she could do to swallow it down, but she had just to prove him wrong. She remembered him clapping her on the back with approval before whispering, “Don’t mention this to your mother.”
Veronica fought the wave of nostalgia that almost made her as sick as that first sip of beer and focused on Quinn’s backside. It was one hell of a view for sure. Even though he’d been handed a promotion, he still dressed like he was on the taskforce in jeans, a black tee-shirt and a dark leather jacket. As he leaned into her fridge, she saw a flash of silver from the gun stored at his side and she shivered.
Despite his obvious disapproval, Quinn pulled a bottle from the carton and popped the top, swigging half the liquid down before he even shut the door. He turned around, leaning his back into the counter next to the refrigerator and they studied one another across the bar that separated them.
“What kind of weird shit you working nowadays?” he questioned unexpectedly with hard eyes.
Veronica slowly raised a dark eyebrow with some amusement and replied, “Aside from the usual weird shit? Nothing.”
“What about that laughing stock, Legacy?” he pressed.
Her eyes slanted and she leaned on the bar, pressing her breasts together purposefully. She watched his eyes dart downward and stay there longer than they should have before he slowly dragged them back to her hardened gaze.
“What about it?” she asked.
“I heard they had an agent at your station doing all the work for you. Is that true?” he asked, taking another long swallow. She watched his Adam’s apple move with the motion and wondered why that turned her on so much.
Veronica didn’t let the bite of his words sink in. She simply shrugged, crossing her arms to tease him further. “What kind of weird shit are you working, Murphy? The feds don’t usually end up at an isolated event, and so soon,” she said, turning the conversation around. “Is there a serial killer on the loose?”
Quinn didn’t say anything with his mouth, but his eyes confirmed her suspicions. It might not be a serial killer, but it was something big. She knew he wasn’t going to discuss his case with her; after all, he was the FBI and she was just an uninvolved local badge.
“How long have you been in town?” she wondered instead.
“Not long,” he replied shortly, draining the rest of his unoffered beverage and tossing the bottle in the sink like he owned the place.
Veronica tried not to let it prick her pride, but it was hard. He was trying to be an asshole, though he never truly had to try that hard. It did come rather naturally. Before she had to decide whether to keep her mouth shut or pop off something inappropriate, Quinn’s phone started ringing again.
“Looks like your boss is missing you,” she said mockingly. “Might have a new lead.”
He glanced down at his cell again before looking back up at her. He silenced it again and moved around the barrier between them swiftly. Before she even knew how he managed to travel so fast, he had her caught up in his arms and had his lips on hers again. His kiss was violent, urgent and over before she had a chance to respond like her b
ody wanted to.
When he pulled away, his large hand was holding tightly around her jaw keeping her still while his dark eyes studied her for a long moment. He let her go suddenly and reached behind him, pulling her gun from his waistband and dropping it on the counter heavily. And without another word, he turned and saw himself out.
Veronica deflated against the bar, holding onto it for a second before collapsing into the stool with shaky knees. It had been too long since she had been in a relationship. She was weak, she knew. And she hated to admit it, but his touch felt amazing, even if it wasn’t genuine. She thought maybe Quinn cared about her on some small level, but she wasn’t sure he understood what love was or if he was even fully capable of it.
Veronica almost laughed at her own thoughts. Who was she to judge? She had never been in love. She didn’t understand that emotion any better than Quinn Murphy. And maybe that was why they were so drawn to one another. This wasn’t the only time they had stumbled across each other over the years. Their relationship (if one could even call it such a significant word) was magnetic. They always seemed to find each other no matter the distance.
She sat there long enough to gather her strength. When she stood this time, she felt confident as she turned the locks on her door. Although, she knew it was a futile effort—they hadn’t kept Quinn out to start with. But it did make her feel better. She grabbed the file off the counter and her eyes swept over the bold, large letters written in angry red. CLASSIFIED, it said. The seal was still unbroken. She brushed her hands across the paper, feeling a rush of courage come and go. She couldn’t look just yet. Another day, she told herself as she locked the envelope away in her closet. She had been after the information inside that folder for more than half her life so what was one more day?
Another day, she repeated, but it had been weeks with it in her possession and yet…she was still just afraid of the truth as she had been when Logan Hook placed that folder in her hands.
