Hurt

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Another curse burst from her lips.

  “What is it?” Ryker asked.

  “Shut up.”

  She did the only thing she could, the only thing that could make them blend in with the rest of the civilians looking for booze-induced fun.

  Laila reached up, wrapped her arms around Ryker’s neck, and kissed the hell out of him.

  He stiffened, tried to pull back. “Lay—“

  “Shut up,” she breathed against his lips. “Two o’clock. Just fucking kiss me.”

  Ryker was still for another half beat then his lips — and other things — surged to life.

  Good God. Somehow, she’d minimized the way he’d affected her that night, years before. Somehow, she’d managed to convince herself that the passion between them had been no big deal.

  She’d been wrong.

  Heat engulfed her from head to toe, and her knees went weak. She could run fifteen miles full out with fifty pounds of gear on her back, but one touch of Ryker’s lips, and her legs went to mush.

  His tongue brushed the seam of her bottom lip as if to coax her mouth open.

  It was an unnecessary gesture.

  Laila didn’t need coaxing; she’d already opened, had already welcomed his tongue with a soft brush of her own. The spicy taste of the cinnamon mints he favored inundated her senses.

  Her moan rumbled in her throat, vibrated across their joined mouths, wrenching one from him in response. His hands circled her waist and drew her hips toward his.

  It was good. Overwhelming and just so damn good at the same time.

  Already the strings were linking them together again. Each sensation — each brush of his fingers across her cheek, her jaw, her neck; every touch of his tongue to hers — was a fishing line whose hook dug itself deeper into her soul. It was what had frightened her so much during their brief time together.

  It was that fear, which she’d ignored.

  Laila had thought herself invulnerable to such weakness, impenetrable to the typical female reaction. And in the end, her overconfidence had gained her nothing but a broken heart.

  That thought cleared her head more quickly than a bucket of cold water.

  She pulled back and, through nothing more than sheer dint of character, managed to keep her voice steady. “He’s gone,” she said then flicked her stare around them to confirm that was actually the case. “Get to your station.”

  Ryker blinked, his blue eyes hazy. “That kiss—“

  “That kiss was nothing but cover,” she snapped. “Now move your ass.”

  2343 Friday

  Penthouse, Westin St. Francis Hotel

  Union Square, San Francisco

  RYKER WAS READY TO MURDER SOMEONE.

  Cover? Seriously? The woman had all but shoved her tongue down his throat, had kissed him like they were the only two people on the planet, and she’d tried to sell it as cover?

  He could still feel her mouth against his, still picture the exact shade of red her kiss-swollen lips had turned. She’d been as taken as he, as swamped by the all-encompassing desire as he was.

  Cover?

  Ryker cursed and shoved into the room housing their surveillance equipment. Thomas was already inside.

  “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” his teammate and friend asked. He wore a smirk that made Ryker want to punch him in the face. “Problems?”

  “Bite me.”

  “Never gonna happen.”

  Ryker rolled his eyes and crossed the room to take his turn at the monitors. “I’d say suck it, but—“

  Thomas’ smirk widened into a full-blown grin. “Never gonna happen.” He laughed then added with falsely widened eyes, “You make it too easy, bro.”

  Mentally counting to ten and sure that smoke was pouring out of his ears, Ryker forced himself to bite back his retort… and to also not strangle one of the few men he trusted with his back.

  “Get some shut eye,” he grumbled instead. “It’s my turn.”

  Thomas nodded and stood, groaning as he stretched with both hands on his lower back. “I’m getting too old for this.”

  “You’re not even thirty.”

  “I found a grey hair this morning.”

  Ryker’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Seriously, dude, I’m taking away your man card.”

  “What?” Thomas shrugged, but his lips kept twitching, ruining his stupid-as-hell joke. “I like to look good.”

  “Impossible,” Ryker muttered as he sank into the rolling chair and began taking in what was happening on each of the monitors. “We’ve talked about this before, Tom. You need to set reasonable goals.”

  Thomas raised a brow then glanced down at himself. Ryker had to give it to him. The guy was good-looking — not that he’d ever admit that… even under pain of death — and his teammate didn’t have a problem getting laid.

  He was still a pain in the ass.

  “You really blew it with her, you know?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ryker ignored the snort and concentrated on the monitor. There wasn’t a clear sightline to their subject’s warehouse in Chinatown. If he adjusted the signal of the satellite—

  “Laila used to worship the ground you walked on,” Thomas said, the oblivious SOB pressing on despite Ryker’s cold shoulder, “until you slept with her. Now she looks at you as though she’d rather shove a knife in your kidney than save your spine.” Thomas laughed. “I’m sure she’s good in the sack. I mean, just look at her — ass, tits, pretty face. So it must be you. Are you really that bad of a lay?”

  “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” Ryker was up and out of the chair, his arm across Thomas’s throat before his mind caught up with his body. “She’s the commander for this mission, and I won’t tolerate—“

  “Bad,” Thomas wheezed with a smile. “You really are that bad.”

  “I will kick your—“

  “Ryker,” came Laila’s voice. “Let him go.”

  His arm dropped; Thomas’s feet hit the floor with a low thud.

  “Tom,” she said. “Feel free to take the following conversation out of this room.” Her eyes narrowed. “Every time you talk crap about me, every time you spread rumors about what an ineffective—“ She shot Thomas a glare when he made a sound of protest. “Every time you bitch about me being a bitch, remember this conversation.”

  “I had sex with Ryker. Hot, wild, monkey sex. Against the wall. On the bed. Hell, I think we might have even used your bed.” Her lips curved in the ghost of a smile. “It was good, and then it was done. Now, if that doesn’t satisfy your curiosity, maybe you’d like me to list the positions? Because there were quite a few—“

  “No. I’m good, Laila,” Thomas said quickly. His smirk was gone. In its place was a grave expression and pale-ass skin.

  Good, Ryker thought as he sat back down in the chair and faced the monitors. Let the bastard sweat for a change.

  “Fine,” Laila said. “Then get the hell out and grab some shut-eye. You and Shell are running the first sweep at 0430.”

  “Roger, commander.” The door shut with a soft click.

  Ryker’s eyes flicked between the monitors and Laila. She looked pissed but not homicidal, so that was a good thing. But there was something about her demeanor, fragility, and a vulnerability he’d seen in her during their night together.

  It wasn’t off-putting. It was worrying.

  Because she was the strongest woman he knew. Even stronger than his silent, steely mother and his feisty-as-hell sister.

  “He’s right,” she murmured.

  “Thomas?” Movement on the screen drew his gaze, and Ryker focused on the activity — two lovers caught in a passionate embrace — for a fraction of a moment before dismissing them. “He’s never right. Don’t let him get to you.”

  Her laugh was brittle. “That may almost always be true. But not in this case,” she said. “I did worship the ground you walked on. From the moment I came to KTS, I wanted to be you.”


  He snorted. Wanted to be him? Him? The guy who’d been dishonorably discharged from the Navy because he couldn’t follow the chain of command? The guy who’d known a woman was too young for him, too infatuated with him, and yet he’d had sex with her anyway?

  Yeah. He was a real role model.

  “It’s true,” she said as she reached across him to change the camera position on monitor three. “Watch there—“ She tapped the screen. “That’s where I think they’re coming in.”

  “Okay,” he agreed, then after a moment of quiet, “I hope you see now that I shouldn’t be anyone’s standard for how a proper agent should act.”

  Laila laughed, and the sound was music to his ears. But then he caught the thought and mentally punched himself in the balls. Music to his ears? Seriously? Yes, she was hot. Yes, she was a good agent, and he’d been a dick. But—

  The kiss earlier had thrown him more than he’d expected.

  She’d felt so right in his arms, had tasted so damned good. He’d almost forgotten where they were, that they were on a mission. And that… that wasn’t something he could allow.

  “You’re a good agent, Ryker,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she touched his shoulder. “We were both young and stupid. I shouldn’t have held it against you when you wanted different things than me.”

  He caught the slightest whiff of flowers, knew it was the scent of her deodorant. They couldn’t all work as close as they did without picking up some of each other’s idiosyncrasies. But that — the visceral reminder of her femininity — packed a punch.

  His mind might have been comfortable with only one night, but his body had always, always wanted more.

  “I wasn’t that young,” he said. “Just stupid.”

  Laila chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth?” She turned to the door. “See you in four hours.”

  “Really fucking stupid,” he muttered and focused on the monitors.

  0757 Saturday

  Abandoned Warehouse, Chinatown

  LAILA STARED DOWN AT THE BODY.

  The woman — no, girl — couldn’t be older than a teenager. Her face was beautiful, her naked form barely covered. Torn scraps, the remains of a red dress, crisscrossed her body like a blood-stained bandage.

  And there was plenty of blood. Plenty of the iron-scented, crimson liquid. So much so that Laila knew the girl — so, so young — had suffered.

  It made her nauseous, her eyes go watery.

  She bit back a curse and covered the girl with a sheet. She needed to be strong, couldn’t let emotions rule her if they were going to find the son of a bitch who was running the ring.

  Their target from the previous day was only a small dealer, but their hope was that he would lead KTS to whoever was in charge.

  Still, Laila didn’t know if she could take this. Being patient while girls were being hurt and killed. God. She just wanted to strap on a rocket launcher and take out Robert Pham and whichever of his sleaze-ball cronies happened to be nearby.

  Unfortunately, there was no guarantee that doing so would destroy the trafficking ring. So here she stood, just as frustrated, another victim at her feet.

  With a sigh, she took a step away from the body. Thanks to Laila having a friend on the force, they’d been able to take their necessary samples before the crime scene investigators came in and messed things up.

  It wasn’t that the PD’s CSI team wasn’t talented. They knew what they were doing in most civilian cases. But this wasn’t a typical case. There were elements here that no metropolitan police force had the capability to track.

  Chemicals with short half-lives, drugs that were ahead of their screening capabilities.

  A little like the steroid scandal in professional baseball, the criminals that KTS took down had techniques to fool the local PD.

  But not KTS.

  Their Research & Development program was seriously well-funded. Which — and this is what Laila needed to remember — meant they had tools to track the bastards who’d murdered this innocent girl.

  “Good?” Adam asked. He was her connection with the force, a fifty-something cop who’d been on the SFPD for more than twenty years.

  She nodded and shook his hand. “Thanks again.”

  “You’re going to get them.”

  Her stomach clenched, hard. She should have already gotten them, should have seized the opportunity to take down Robert Pham the second she’d seen him walking down the street in the Castro.

  Instead, she’d been playing grab ass with Ryker.

  Of course she knew that wasn’t the full truth, that keeping their cover was important, that Pham was only a low man on the totem pole. They already had enough evidence to bring him in and turn him over to the authorities.

  Except he didn’t have the bankroll to fund such an operation

  Which meant they needed to discover who was really in charge.

  She returned to her car that was parked a few blocks away, guilt for not saving another girl tearing her apart.

  KTS had been tracking the appearance of bodies — all female, all Asian between the ages of 16-22 — in various port cities for months now. They’d always been violated, beaten, and Laila was done.

  Done with seeing the evidence of humanity’s cruelty to one another. Done with seeing the awful way these women had suffered.

  KTS needed to finish this mission.

  Her senses were alert as she arrived at her car. There was a prickling feeling between her shoulder blades, one that didn’t sit well with her until she saw the silent form step out from a shadowed doorway and reveal himself.

  Ryker was watching. That shouldn’t surprise her. He was a good agent, always had his team’s back. It was why she’d liked him so much. It was why — if she was admitting it only to herself — why she still liked him too much.

  Her body remembered his, ached for him. Her mind, her instincts respected his abilities.

  Which left her where?

  Totally unwilling to risk herself again.

  Not that he’d expressed any such interest.

  She shook her head when he would have crossed the road. He’d followed her without permission and subsequently could find his own ride home. Plus, she needed this time to get her crap together, couldn’t bear the close intimacy when she was trying so desperately to put the past behind her.

  Laila opened the car door and slid inside. Then she pulled out her phone and did what she always did when her insides were twisted into a giant knot.

  Called her best friend.

  “Krypton Technology Services. How can I help you?” Rachel all but sang into the phone. Laila would have hated her, if not for Rachel’s sly sense of humor and unwavering support. She may sound like an angel, but her friend had a dirty-as-hell mind and a razor-sharp tongue.

  Which is probably why they were such close friends. Though Laila’s barbed exterior was obvious to everyone, Rachel’s was buried slightly deeper.

  “It’s me.”

  “Oh,” Rachel said. “Hold please.” The line went quiet except for a soft clicking noise as Rachel secured the line. “Okay then, now tell me. What’s the matter?”

  “I said something stupid,” Laila blurted.

  “How stupid?”

  She sighed. “Like really freaking stupid.”

  “Do I need to send clean up?” Laila imagined Rachel’s fingers already clattering across her keyboard, readying to send in the cavalry.

  “No.” Laila slipped in her Bluetooth and put the car into gear. “Well, Tom may need new underwear because I scared him so badly, but… that’s not the problem. I—“

  “What?”

  “—I kissed Ryker.”

  Rachel’s shriek pierced the airwaves… and Laila’s eardrums. “Was it good?”

  “Of course it was good,” she snapped. “You know he’s my freaking kryptonite.”

  “No pun intended,” Rachel said with a snort.

  “Ha. Ha,” Laila retorted but she felt her lips tu
g up. It was a running joke amongst the non-civilians of KTS that the krypton in Krypton Technology Services was actually short for kryptonite — as in their organization was the key element in the bad guys’ downfall.

  Which was the sort of joke that made a person laugh the first time around. Afterward, well… afterward, it was just barely amusing.

  But KTS was a front for their independent military operation, and, despite its position as a shell corporation, the company — through its production of chemicals that were used worldwide — ended up funding a good portion of their R&D.

  R&D that would lead them to the human trafficker.

  It had to.

  “So it was good,” Rachel said, interrupting her drifting thoughts. “So what?”

  “So what?” Laila asked, her voice shrill. “You know things ended badly.” She sighed and took a moment so she didn’t sound like a teenager at a boy band concert. “It’s just that every single time I think he’s out of my head, he does something to draw me back in.”

  “You think he’s playing you?” Rachel’s question was fierce, and Laila’s heart swelled at knowing her friend had her back.

  “Not necessarily,” Laila said. “I mean, I think he wants us to move forward as friends. He even apologized for how things ended. I just…”

  “You just what?”

  “I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my heart separate again.”

  “Oh, Lay.” Rachel sighed.

  “I know.”

  “No,” Rachel said. “You don’t. I was going to say that not everyone is like your parents.”

  “I know that.”

  “I’m not sure you do.” There was a beat of quiet. “I think he cares about you, Laila. I’ve heard him go to bat for you with the commander. Stand up for you with the other guys.” Her voice went a little soft. “And that was before you slept together. You know what I think?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “You’re hilarious,” Rachel muttered before returning to her normally bright voice. “But, humor aside, I think he liked you too much and panicked.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Laila said. Her instincts tingled, and she glanced in the rearview. Nothing. “We work together.”