His eyes flashed and then his mouth was on mine, hard and hot. He clutched my body against him as his kiss consumed me. With each brush of his lips, he staked his claim. I was his, and he wasn’t ever letting me go; of that there was no doubt. Not anymore.
His hands were rough as he pulled me fully on top of him, our mouths still fused together. With one swift jerk of his hips, he was inside me — filling me, completing me. I gasped as I adjusted to the sudden intrusion, my hair falling forward around our faces in a curtain. His hands gripped my hips, so tight they were nearly bruising, and his eyes burned into mine, mere inches away, so bright with love it made my heart squeeze.
Rocking into me, his slow pace killing me in gradual, ecstatic thrusts, he obliterated my anxieties about whatever future might lie ahead for us. I felt my worries fade as my mind blanked and, suddenly, I was capable only of thoughts about this exact fraction of time, when we were connected and everything else ceased to matter.
***
I woke up slowly.
It was barely dawn and shafts of faint morning light were just starting to filter through the curtains. My eyes opened and landed on Wes, still asleep by my side. I watched the steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed, each inhale expanding his chest and lending the illusion of movement to the swirling tattoos on his back.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I leaned in and examined the markings up close. I felt my eyes go wide when I saw part of the pattern gleamed in darker, fresher ink than the rest. He’d added to the design since I last saw it.
Now, in the center of the inky tendrils spanning his upper back, an elaborate Chinese symbol was etched into his skin. The desire to trace my fingers across its lines was strong, but I knew doing so would wake him. Instead, I brought my face as close to it as possible, as though I might somehow discern the emblem’s meaning through proximity alone.
“Faith.” His deep voice startled me away from the tattoo. I pulled back and settled in next to him again, my arm brushing his.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered, staring into his half-lidded eyes.
“You didn’t.” He reached out, wrapped an arm around my back, and hauled me against his side so we were pressed flush together. My arms twined around his back as I huddled into his warmth and exhaled deeply. My fingertips blindly traced the markings on his back.
“The new tattoo.” His hold tightened on me. “I got it the day I left Budapest.”
“Oh.” I waited, knowing he had more to say.
“Yeah.” I felt his throat contract as he swallowed. “It means faith.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and I buried my head in the crook of his neck to stem their flow. I didn’t say anything — I just tightened my embrace until he knew, without words, that I was never letting him go. Not ever.
Chapter Fifty-Six: WESTON
NOT AGAIN
I stepped outside and popped the SIM-card back into my phone. A text message from Benson came up on the screen almost immediately.
FOUND BORDAS. CALL IN.
I sighed and dialed, listening to it ring for several long seconds before he finally answered.
“Benson.”
“It’s Abbott,” I grumbled. “You got him?”
There was a weighty silence over the line. “We tracked him to a small town a couple hours from Bakersfield. We think he’s heading for—”
“Faith’s family,” I finished, my mind beginning to race. “Fuck.”
“Best guess is, he’s desperate and needs some leverage to draw her back home.” Benson sighed. “We’re sending a team to watch the house. When he gets there, we’ll take him out.”
“You got her family out already, right?”
Silence.
My jaw clenched. “Benson. Don’t fucking tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”
He didn’t answer.
“Because if you’re thinking of using Faith’s family as live bait to trap Bordas…” I took a deep breath and when I spoke again, I knew my voice had surpassed threatening and gone straight to ominous. “You will answer to me.”
“I don’t answer to you,” Benson snapped. “And we aren’t evacuating the family. If Bordas senses a trap, he’ll bolt. He’s one of Szekely’s top men. We can’t afford to lose him, and we might not have another opportunity like this for years, if ever.”
“Benson—”
“If you’re worried about the family, you can join the op to make sure they’re adequately protected. That’s my only offer.”
I began to grind my teeth. There were no good options, here.
If I left to guard her family, Faith would be unprotected. If I stayed and her parents were injured or killed, she’d never forgive me. I couldn’t take her with me — putting her in Bordas’ path would be playing right into his hands, if the mission went wrong.
Fuck.
“Decide fast, Abbott. The clock is ticking. By our estimates, Bordas will be at the house in about three hours. It’ll take you almost that long to get here.”
My eyes pressed closed.
“I’ll let you know within the hour.”
***
“You have to go.”
Faith was eerily calm. I’d expected hysterics, screams, even some threats, but she was utterly composed when I told her about Bordas. Her eyes bored into mine and she laced our fingers together, the physical contact underscoring her intent words.
My jaw clenched. “I don’t want to leave you unprotected. Even if it’s only for a few hours.”
“I’m not unprotected — I have my gun. Plus, no one even knows how to find this cabin. I’ll be fine without you.” Her eyes were liquid saucers, pleading and persuasive. “My family needs you, Wes.”
“What if you need me?”
She leaned in and brushed her lips against mine. “I’ll always need you in my life. But I can survive alone for eight hours. I promise.”
“I don’t like this.”
She tucked her face into the hollow of my throat, so my chin rested on the crown of her head. “I know you don’t. But I need you to do it anyway. If they were ever hurt because of me…” He voice cracked a little. “Please, Wes.”
I sighed. I was powerless to say no to her. “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my neck. “I’ll spend a boring few hours playing cards, cleaning the cabin, and missing you, and then you’ll come back to me. Nothing is going to happen.”
I pressed my eyes closed and forced myself to focus on the steady sound of her breathing, rather than how irrationally afraid I was to leave her alone. She’d be fine. I was worried for no reason.
That’s what I tried to convince myself as I walked outside, called Benson back, and told him I was in.
***
I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I was missing something.
Displaying an outward composure I didn’t feel, I’d kissed Faith goodbye, made sure both our guns were fully loaded, and left the cabin behind as I skirted through the woods to the motorcycle I’d stashed a quarter mile away. But with each step, the feeling that something about this entire mission was fucked from the start only grew stronger.
As I walked, I replayed the conversation over, Benson’s voice in my head like a whiney, limp-dicked mantra.
Decide fast, Abbott. The clock is ticking.
He was a prick, but it was more than that. What else had he said?
By our estimates, Bordas will be at the house in about three hours.
It didn’t hit me until I was a good distance from the cabin, practically to the bike.
It’ll take you almost that long to get here.
Fuck. I stopped in my tracks.
He knew exactly how long it would take me to reach Faith’s house. Which meant…
He knew exactly where the cabin was.
Where Faith was.
I’d half-turned to run back to her when the butt of an unseen gun landed against my t
emple, hard enough to send me spinning into unconsciousness.
My last thought, before the world darkened into nothing, was of Faith — alone and unprotected in the cabin, with no one there to save her.
Black spots swam before my eyes, closing in like a dark, overpowering fog.
I was going to lose her again.
Chapter Fifty-Seven: FAITH
TROJAN HORSE
When the cabin door squeaked open a few moments after Wes left, I figured he’d forgotten something. I turned, a smile already on my lips, words already forming.
“What did you for—”
The words died on my tongue, the smile melted off my face. It wasn’t Wes.
It was Agent Benson.
And there was a gun in his hand.
“Wha—what are you doing here?” I gasped out, taking an abrupt step back as he entered, the screen swinging shut behind him with a jarring noise that made me flinch. “Wes just left to meet you.”
His smile was smarmy — it instantly set me on edge. “Oh, I know.”
“Why—” I took a deep breath and tried to sound unruffled, though every alarm in my body was screaming that he shouldn’t be here, that something about this was very wrong. “Why are you here, then?”
“Well, for you, of course,” he said, as though I was an absolute idiot for asking.
He stepped closer; I shuffled back.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my hands dropping to my sides in what I hoped was a casual manner. My gun was sitting on the small table behind me, concealed in my purse.
His smile stretched wider as he cast his eyes around the room. His gaze was predatory, taking in every detail. It lingered for an uncomfortably long time on the bed, its rumpled sheets in plain view.
“Your own little love shack, isn’t it?” His words were friendly, but I knew their intent was malicious. “Have you enjoyed your time here?”
I didn’t respond.
“I can see that you have. No wonder Abbott didn’t want to tell me your location. He was having far too much fun fucking the woman he was supposed to be protecting.” He laughed.
I reeled as though he’d physically accosted me. My spine snapped straight and I felt fury boil in my veins. He had no right to speak to me that way.
“Unfortunately for him, he’s not as much of a ghost as he believes he is,” Benson continued. “A little digging into old housing records, and I found this place quick enough. Oh, don’t look so upset, Miss Morrissey. I’m sure whatever he told you to get back into your pants was just another series of clever lies. You should be grateful I’m putting a stop to his deception — for the second time, I’ll remind you.”
“You don’t know anything about us,” I snapped.
“I know he’s a stubborn, deceitful bastard who doesn’t follow orders.” He stepped closer, his eyes narrowed on my face. “I know you’re a naive little fool if you think there’s a happy ending in the cards for the two of you.”
“What are you talking about?” I spat at him, edging closer to the table. My purse was almost in reach.
“Too many years and too much work have gone into this. I won’t let Abbott fuck it up for me.” His fixed smile was utterly at odds with the rest of his features, which were pinched in a glare. “Especially now that I finally found you.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Oh, yes,” he said, almost gleeful. “I’ve been looking for you for years. The one loose end I could never tie up — besides Abbott, the slippery bastard. Maybe, if you’d stayed gone, you would’ve lived through this.” He laughed, but his amusement was artificial. “If I’d known I could’ve lured you back with nothing but a fender bender, I would’ve done it years ago.”
Thoughts flew through my mind faster than a thumbed flip-book of images, realizations hitting me one after another with the turn of each page.
“You ran my father off the road,” I breathed. Not a question; an accusation.
His eyes lit up. “One of my better plans to draw you in, if I do say so myself.”
“But… why?”
“You needed to be eliminated from the playing field — permanently. If Abbott hadn’t interfered, you’d have already joined your friend Margot, in the ground.”
“You’re the leak,” I said, finally putting words to the realization that had been staring me in the face for the past five minutes. “You’re the one working for Szekely.”
“Give the girl a cigar!” He grinned.
“If you so much as touch me…” I swallowed. “Wes is going to kill you, when he gets back here.”
His laughter was bone-chilling. “Oh, I’m afraid he won’t be swooping in to save you anytime soon. He can’t come back for you because, you see, he never left.”
As if on cue, the screen door was thrown open and a man appeared in the entryway — a man I’d hoped to never see again.
Istvan Bordas.
As terrifying as it was to see him — nearly unrecognizable due to the horrific burns that covered his hands, his face, every visible patch of skin — it was worse still when my eyes dropped and I caught sight of what he was dragging along behind him. His grip was bruising, unflinching, as he hauled the body harshly over the threshold.
Wes.
A large gash was seeping from his forehead, blood dripping freely down his ashy face. His eyes were closed, sunken into his head like shadowy recessed pools. Looking at him, I felt the breath slip from my lungs as though I’d been kicked in the stomach.
I didn’t know if he was alive or dead.
“The mighty Weston Abbott, finally brought to heel,” Benson muttered triumphantly, watching as Istvan lugged Wes’ body inside and dropped him harshly to the wood floor of the cabin. He landed with a thud, unresponsive and unmoving, and I felt whatever hope I’d harbored that he might only be faking his unconscious state begin to dissipate.
“You won’t get away with this.” My words seemed a flimsy defense. “You can’t just kill us.”
Istvan laughed heartily, as though I’d told a hysterical joke. Benson grinned shamelessly.
“Oh, but we can,” Benson said. “We’ve done it before. And you’re the last ones left who know about the Budapest operation. That’s the beauty of classified missions, Miss Morrissey — total containment. After this, we can finally move forward with the rest of the plan without the threat of opposition.” He shook his head. “Abbott was a fucking thorn in my side for so long. He’s always been skittish, but when his comrades started dropping like dominoes he became even harder to pin down in one location. He’s damn near impossible to kill — all my previous hired-out attempts have failed. So, for that, I have to thank you.”
My heart was pounding so loud, it was difficult to focus on anything else. My mind was full of one, singular thought that I repeated over and over until the words slurred into a nonsensical blur.
Getthegungetthegungetthegun.
“Thank me?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“For making the impossible possible!” he exclaimed. “It seems you’re his fatal flaw. His kryptonite, as it were. Before you, he’d never have stayed in one place for so long. He wouldn’t have been so blinded by lust, he failed to safeguard himself. He certainly wouldn’t have left you alone, fooled into leaving by such a flimsy lie.” He made a happy tsk sound. “Because of you, he didn’t realize what was happening until it was far too late. You could even say you’re responsible for his death — the one who killed him.”
My jaw clenched as I tried to stay in control. “My parents were never in danger,” I said, my voice flat. “There was no mission to protect them.”
He grinned. “Of course not.”
I wanted to throw up.
“Without Abbott monitoring my every move like a little narc, I can finally broker a deal for Szekely’s prototype. Do you know what biological weapons are, Miss Morrissey?”
I jerked my chin higher and refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He didn’t seem to mind
— he was going to tell me anyway.
“Szekely’s work blows every conventional bio-weapon out of the water. We’re talking targeted nerve agents, programmed to affect specific individuals. To find and eliminate a particular person’s DNA. It will revolutionize warfare — my superiors are desperate to get their hands on it.” His tone was gloating and his eyes gleamed, the excitement he felt almost palpable. “Three years ago, when we learned about the prototype, I realized that whoever controls Szekely’s weapon also controls the global playing field. And I had no intention of being on the losing side of history.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he reminisced. “Abbott’s operation in Budapest gave me the perfect opportunity to initiate contact with Szekely. I warned him about the raid, he cleared out of his compound hours before the team of agents arrived, and a beautiful partnership was born.”
For a moment, he and Istvan grinned at one another in mutual congratulation. Benson’s smile barely dimmed when he looked back at me and continued speaking.
“If my plan succeeds, within a year the prototype will be in the hands of our military. They won’t realize until it’s far too late that Szekely has already programmed his weapon — not to inflict warfare on others, but to eliminate our own forces. Our leaders, our top strategists, our entire government…” He grinned. “They’ll be dead, and I’ll be on a private island with more money than God, watching as our country’s defensive forces fall to shit. It’s the ultimate Trojan Horse.”
I stared at him in utter horror. This was far worse than anything I’d imagined. He was talking about mass murder — discussing it so casually, you’d think he were describing a routine trip to the dentist’s office.
“You are evil,” I whispered.
“Thank you,” Benson said, as though I’d complimented him. He walked away a few steps, so he was hovering over Wes’ prone form, and I used the opportunity to scramble backwards to the other side of the table, my purse now only inches from my hand. Istvan’s eyes followed my every move — they hadn’t unlatched from me since he’d stepped inside the cabin — so I couldn’t grab my gun. Not yet.
Erasing Faith Page 31
