by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
“Thanks for stopping by, asshole,” he mumbled then slid the window open enough to toss lit cherry bombs outside for a loud, smoky, snap-crackle-pop distraction.
He beat feet back to Lexi as the cherry bombs detonated. Surely the mini-explosion turned the attention of the man at the door away from the ultra-silent garage. With the garage door opening, he pulled Lexi onto the motorcycle and waited for as long as he could.
“Duck, sweetheart.” He switched the ignition, throttled down, and burned out of the garage, cutting off the driveway, heading down a sidewalk, and exiting onto the street from someone else’s driveway.
A high-pitched squeal came from behind him, and his gut churned until he realized she wasn’t screaming in terror. Lexi Dare had just enjoyed the hell out of their little escape. He’d laugh if he wasn’t terrified of her getting shot in the back. Parker wove down side streets, swooping down a maze of two-ways. He was certain no one had eyes on them when he hit the interstate to head to the belly of the beast. Time to bring Lexi to Titan.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Phiber climbed from the bush he’d ducked in then checked his surroundings to make sure no one had seen him dive like a coward. Only then did he pull the gun from his waistband and run to the garage. It had closed. While it looked like a harmless garage door, his fingers still had burn marks from when he’d tried to pick the lock at the last place Silver had been hiding.
Who was that woman? More importantly, why did she live like a commando? Maybe he hadn’t given her enough credit. Then again, she had stupidly let him track her to this place.
Phiber circled the house, unable to see in anywhere. A window on the side of the second floor was cracked a few inches. While he might be able to get a ladder or something and crawl in, he was wary of entering that way. Maybe she had electrified windows.
His phone buzzed with a text message, and without looking, he knew who it was.
Taskmaster: Complete?
With a slightly bruised ego, Phiber scrolled up to see his previous message that he’d found Silver and it would be a sure thing this time. His fingers hovered before he responded.
Phiber: Almost.
All he needed was a plan, because they wouldn’t send him another bank transfer until they had her. His greedy heart wanted that payday in a bad way.
Taskmaster: New task at the incoming location. All you’ll need to move forward will be in there. Consider it a thank you gift.
Well, fuck him running. Maybe he wasn’t as off today as he thought. A second later, a text buzzed through with an address. Phiber hopped back into his car and punched the location into his GPS. Less than a mile away. It took a few turns, and he found nothing but yellow-lined do-not-park curbs in a sea of driveways. At the fire lane, he threw his car in park anyway and jumped out. His phone buzzed again. Another address with one accompanying command. Walk there.
He got his bearings and headed down the suburban street until he found the address. The garage door was up, and a Mercedes sat inside. Holy shit. He pulled out his phone to ask if what he was thinking was what was happening, but the Taskmaster beat him to it.
Taskmaster: Key in the ignition center console. Consider it a gift for the job done.
Well, shit. He hadn’t even finished yet, and maybe they didn’t get that it was turning out to be harder than he expected, but what the fuck. A new ride ten times better than his current one? That he’d take. Phiber ran his hand over the frame from the trunk until he pulled the driver’s door open and sat in leather-covered heaven. This ride was sick. Not really his style, but it was crazy high end and would sell quickly. But not before he checked out how this baby could burn rubber.
He ran his hands over the steering wheel and saw the keyless key waiting for him. All he had to do was press his foot to the brake and push the button that said IGNITION. He took a deep breath of new car smell as he rested his foot on the brake pedal.
The snap of the interior locks surprised him. “What the—”
The garage door began to close.
“Hey!” He reached for the unlock button and jabbed it several times, but nothing. His fingers pried at the locks, but they were small and barely peeping out of the door console. He couldn’t get enough traction on the nub of plastic sticking out.
The car’s engine ignited even though his foot hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t pressed it to start.
“Shit!” Phiber tried the windows and sun roof. Neither opened. Then he jumped to the other side of the car and tried that lock. No luck. Panic made him perspire.
He pressed the button above him that should connect him to an operator. But music blared in the car instead.
Then a robotic voice filled the speakers, repeating, “Three strikes, you’re out.”
The car’s engine raced, and the scent of exhaust seeped inside. He put his foot on the brake and tried to shift into reverse, but the slap-stick gear shifter wouldn’t budge.
“Fuck!” He slammed the steering wheel with his balled fists, then he grabbed his cell phone and called the Taskmaster. It rang until a robot-generated voicemail message told him to speak after the beep. “Let me go, you fuckers.”
But nothing changed except the noise.
Phiber hung up and dialed 9-1-1. The phone clanged to a busy tone no matter how many times he redialed.
The engine still revved, the tachometer redlining. His fingertips bled from tearing at the doors and windows, all unbudging. The garage slowly filled with carbon monoxide, and a foggy, tired feeling ate at his mind.
He pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose, panicking, and leaned back to gain leverage. With his feet, he bashed at the windows to no avail. They didn’t shatter. He coughed and hacked, growing weaker with every wheezy breath. What was this, bulletproof glass or some shit? With each kick to the unyielding glass, he grew more tired, coughing, until his fight was zapped.
Unable to do anything more, Phiber lay back, his mind swimming, his lungs burning. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore…
* * *
Lexi leaned against Parker as they came to a stoplight. Riding like that after spending the night with him, every time he throttled, she felt it.
He turned his head and looked dead sexy. “We just have to make a quick stop.”
They were dangerously close to her old house, but that also meant that they were very close to Parker’s place. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what their next move was, but she thought his house, where she’d first known that she was falling for him, was the perfect location after their night together.
“Sounds good.”
They rolled into his driveway as his garage door lifted. She swung off the bike and watched him do the same. Some men were born to ride motorcycles, fewer created to master that speed racer. As Parker removed his helmet and ran his fingers into his hair, with two days’ stubble on his cheeks and his blue eyes aflame, she almost couldn’t contain the need to kiss him.
Oh, screw it. She pushed onto her toes and placed her hands on his scratchy cheeks, pulling his face to hers, and she took the kiss she wanted.
A grin curled on his face, and he laughed quietly. “What was that for?”
“Just because.”
“I think I could get used to this.”
She giggled. “This?”
“Yeah, this. You and me, running around on an adrenaline-sex high.”
Heat crawled up her neck. “Well, good. I’m glad.”
He hooked his arm around her as they walked into his house. She hadn’t had time to analyze his declaration of love in bed, but she was certain of one thing. A man who said “I love you” while having sex might not say it again. Except he was Parker. She trusted him. She was in love with him, and if he said he loved her too, then maybe he really did.
“What’s that look?” he asked as they shed their jackets.
She shrugged, not ready to bare every single thought that moved through her mind. “I just haven’t had a moment since this morning to thi
nk about, I don’t know… us. And kissing you for the hell of it, just like a random, for-no-reason kiss, that was awesome. Just kind of makes everything feel real when the last few days, really the last few weeks of my life, have been absurd.”
“Good.” He crossed his arms. “So we’ll hang here for a while. I have a couple of things to do, phone calls to make. You okay if I jump in the shower for a minute?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem.”
“Okay. You’ve been here before, you know the lay of the land. Anything you want is yours. Got it?”
Everything she wanted was standing before her. Even though she’d had him that morning and last night, it was as if he’d tapped a hunger she couldn’t stymie.
He snagged her close, laid his lips on hers, and made her senses explode before he set her free. “Alright, there’s an untraceable tablet on the coffee table, and the remote’s gotta be somewhere close to that. Be back in a few.”
She padded to his living room and sat on the couch. Everything was very Parker. Straight lines and hard edges, as if he’d found a black-and-white rule book for how a room should be decorated to look like a man’s place. But honestly, he’d nailed it. Thick, rich furniture, all of it dark. The walls were deep blues, the hardwood floor seemed more manly than elegant, and half a dozen techy magazines were tossed in a pile—well, there were military ones too. Ones named Tactical this, and Strategic that…
She sat down to Google Titan. The site immediately popped on the screen, and she paged through until she came to an executive staff bio page. Parker Black. What she read blew her mind. His career. His history. Where he’d been. What he’d done. And that was only what was public. She tried to hack past all of the safeguards in place but couldn’t. No reason to do it really, except that was how she passed the time. But it was locked down, impenetrable. Primarily, she assumed, because Parker—or rather BlackDawn—had run point on the site. The man knew what he was doing, she couldn’t fault him for that.
But after what she had read, if she’d been impressed before, she had a newfound respect for him. The guy just kept amazing her. Down the hall, she heard the shower running. Odd how that casual and intimate act made her swoon inside. A man showering, leaving her to roam his domain, was simple enough, yet it wasn’t—especially given everything she continued to learn about him.
She could spend the next twenty minutes staring toward the bathroom, imagining how he looked showering, or she could search for breakfast. Or for ice cream. That cured all ills. What were the chances that Mister Muscles had ice cream? She opened the freezer and smiled when she found a pint of vanilla. Not bad, BlackDawn.
Then she went in search of a bowl and maybe some toppings. Nothing said life on the run like dessert for breakfast. After opening cabinet after cabinet, taking in the stock of boxed, non-perishable, open-and-eat foods like granola bars, rice pouches, and instant potatoes, she realized that he had nothing perishable or confectionary-focused, so she moved to the fridge. Nothing but condiments, protein shakes, and beer. This place really was a bachelor’s pad.
With another quick search of the drawers, she found a spoon—
“There’s fudge in the pantry.”
Lexi jumped and spun. “Parker! You scared the—”
But as she took him in, tight T-shirt stretched and stuck across his semi-wet chest, jeans that hung low but were somehow molded to his hips and thighs, she lost her words. His hair was damp and the light scent of soap surrounded him, making her mouth water.
“I didn’t mean to sneak up. Thought you heard me.”
For a second time, her eyes raked down him. Sweet Jesus. “No problem.”
“Breakfast of champions?” He nodded at the vanilla ice cream. “Gonna eat it or…?”
Right. She was standing there like a moron, likely with her tongue hanging out. “You’re kinda soaked.”
“I rushed—I didn’t want to step away too long.”
“Did you get your work stuff done?”
“Yeah, about that…” His face grew grim. “It’s not orange sherbet, but did you want fudge or not?”
“Don’t even tell me you have a sweet tooth.” Big, lean, follows all the rules, stays inside the lines Parker stashed chocolate? Almost too funny to believe.
He smiled. “Maybe.”
She wagged her finger at him. “You totally played like you didn’t at the ice cream parlor.”
“Orange and chocolate?” He made a face but grabbed a jar of fudge out of the pantry she hadn’t searched. “Not my thing.”
“Want some vanilla instead?”
Parker shook his head, popped the cap, and stuck the jar in the microwave while she doled out her ice cream. When the microwave beeped, he grabbed the jar with a cloth and dumped enough chocolate onto her ice cream that she almost proposed to the man. Swishy warmness lit in her chest when she focused on him.
He licked his thumb. “Good stuff.” Then took another thumb of fudge and pressed it to her lips. “Careful, it’s still hot.”
Apparently, she had died and gone to heaven.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, licking off the last bit of chocolate. For as much as he was focusing on her mouth, something else was hiding in his eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“Sit. Eat.” He pushed out her chair then took his, flipping it around to straddle it.
Her stomach dropped as she did the same into her chair. “Really, I’d rather you just told me.” The spoon hung limp in her hand, and all of the vanilla ice cream was quickly turning to sludge. She stirred the bowl into a creamy chocolate river. “It’s about Shadow, isn’t it?” Because what else was there that Parker would know about right now?
He nodded. “Sweetheart…”
She stole her eyes back, scooped up the ice cream soup, and decided the safest course of action was to keep at her original plan: gorge on sugar.
“Lex, I’m really sorry.”
Sorry… like sorry? That couldn’t be right. That sounded a whole lot like condolences. She smashed and splashed her spoon into the bowl. An overwhelming sadness broke through her. All the time she’d spent with Shadow over the years, all of his advice. The father figure she’d always leaned on. He’d taught her, guided her, pushed her to become what she was today. He’d tried to protect her from Matt and, in his own way, pushed her toward Parker. Tears pricked at her eyes, and a lump sliced into her throat.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” she said quietly and bit her lip, letting the tears spill, knowing Parker wasn’t.
His head shook ever so slightly. “There’s no doubt.”
A sudden wave of guilt smashed her down, turning her world, drowning her away from even Parker as he sat there watching her. “Because of me. Because he went after Monarch.”
“That was stupid. That was on him.”
“Don’t say that,” she snapped.
Parker tossed up his hands. “Wrong thing to say. Sorry.”
Letting the spoon clatter to the table, she curled into a ball on the kitchen chair. The chair opposite her scraped on the floor as he pushed up and lifted her, sobbing, into his arms. He shushed against her ear, murmuring for her to get it all out. Her insides were broken. Dull pain radiated from every joint, in every bone. Even her blood hurt as it pumped through her heart. Everything inside her was heartbroken.
He collapsed on the couch with her bawling into his chest. “You’re going to be okay.”
She shook her head, eyes swollen. “How can you say that? The only man who I could even think of as a dad is dead because he tried to help me. He’s dead because of me!” Deep sobs stole her breath. Her mind stopped thinking forward, instead replaying their last moments over and over. “I’m an awful person.”
“Hardly.” He stroked her hair. “But I promise I’ll make this right. Okay?”
“What happened?” She sniffled, letting the tears slow even though devastation had its stranglehold on her. “Was he hurt? In pain?”
“Details aren’t important, and truthfully, I
don’t know yet.”
Oh, God. He was. Shadow had died painfully because of her. “No… you have to tell me when you know. You have to. Promise?” She wiped at rogue tears. “I wish I could fix all this.”
“That’s why you have me. I’m a fixer. We’ll make it work, and I’ll take the hurt away.”
Shadow was dead, and people were after Monarch. How did she not know this would happen? She wanted to escape, just push away and run. Even as she squirmed, Parker didn’t let her go.
“You can’t control things like this, Lex. You do what you can to protect yourself, your work as you best see fit, then you move forward. Every situation has a risk, some higher than others. Shadow knew there was a risk, he tried to mitigate it, but he also kept too much information to himself. He didn’t ask for real help when he needed—”
“Monarch was mine.”
“Just because you create a program doesn’t mean it’s your fault when someone tries to take it. Strictly speaking, in terms of risk analysis, Shadow knew too much and shared too little. He was playing with matches and gasoline. If he knew what I think he knew, then he should’ve put the auction on hold and done the right thing. He had to have seen this coming.”
If she thought her stomach had dropped before, she was wrong. “What don’t I know? What did you just learn?”
“ARO has Monarch. They’ve infiltrated a foot army into the States.”
She’d armed a terrorist organization with dangerous information? “I think I’m going to be sick.”
But she didn’t run for the bathroom. She went limp, completely caught off guard by the intense panic and disgust that swirled in her bile.
“But there’s a saving grace.”
“What?”
Parker smiled carefully. “They haven’t run it yet. No one knows why; they’re working on that. My guess is, since they’re tracking you so hard, they’re too fucking dumb to figure it out.” Delicately, he moved her to the couch. “I’m going to get you some water or something. Just sit still.”
