Kill Shot

by Liliana Hart

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sleep eluded Grace.

  It had been a long time since she’d slept a full night through. Her mind never seemed to be able to rest. If it wasn’t nightmares, it was memories. And she’d take the nightmares any day. She hadn’t been that lucky tonight.

  She woke up in her bed, her flesh clammy and her mind disoriented. The weight of Maddie’s limp body against her own and the stickiness of blood as it soaked both of them was vivid in her mind—as if she were truly reliving the event.

  She rubbed her hands over her dry, cold face. She wasn’t able to cry anymore. She wasn’t sure she’d really cried for two years. But it wasn’t the lack of tears that worried her. It was her hands. They shook violently. And she was useless without the steadiness of her hands.

  This was all Gabe’s fault. It had to be. There had to be someone to blame, and he was the only person available. He was the only one who could make her face a past she so desperately needed to bury.

  How could she have been so stupid as to end up with someone like him? Frank Bennett had introduced them her first year on the job. She’d been so young—barely twenty-one—and Gabe had been her first lover. And her first commander on an assignment, which was never a good combination. But it had been fireworks from the first moment they’d touched, and somehow, they’d managed to keep their relationship a secret from everyone except Frank. That man never missed anything.

  They’d lived on adrenaline and sex—one feeding the other until she was sure they’d burn each other out. But they hadn’t. They’d lasted seven years and had a daughter before she realized living on adrenaline and risking your life for your country on a daily basis wasn’t a good foundation for a family.

  They’d never planned to have children, knowing the risks of what they did and how they lived were too dangerous, but fate had stepped in, and Maddie had been conceived on their fourth wedding anniversary while they’d been under lockdown after finishing a mission that hadn’t turned out exactly as they’d wanted. They’d both been in shock after finding out she was pregnant, but there’d never been any question of not keeping the baby. They’d just promised each other that adjustments would have to be made.

  They’d built a home in the country that no one knew about, and they’d raised their daughter there. And they’d been happy. For a time. Gabe would go undercover for weeks, and she’d go on her own jobs all over the world, and Maddie hardly ever got to spend time with both of them together. They never talked about their work. But they always came back to each other and loved each other fiercely until they were called away again.

  And then Gabe had started to change. It wasn’t a little change, but all at once. He closed in on himself, spending a lot of time alone and rarely speaking at all. He rolled away from her touch at night, and it was then she knew something was really wrong.

  It wasn’t until after Maddie died that she’d found out Gabe had spent twelve years building different covers and infiltrating some of the biggest terrorist organizations in the world. She thought he’d been in charge of the missions, handling other operatives and sending them out on assignments. She’d never known he was the mission.

  Her child had died because Gabe had been one of the top men in Ahmad Sayad’s organization—a man that made Osama Bin Laden look like an altar boy. Gabe and Kamir Tussad took care of Sayad’s nefarious businesses while Sayad stayed hidden. Sayad was more of a figurehead than anything. It was really Tussad who called the shots. And it was Tussad who had found out Gabe was a plant. He’d destroyed them all as payment—Gabe, because his cover had been blown and he could no longer do his job with any organization—Grace, because he’d taken the one thing that had given her light.

  Without Maddie, the darkness in her life crept in at her around the edges, eating at her soul. She could blame it on the CIA for making her kill. She believed in what she did. But after Maddie’s death, the kills stopped having meaning. They were just targets, not life. And she knew it was only a matter of time before the darkness overtook her completely. She could no longer function as she had been. She was empty inside, and seeing Gabe had only made her remember what she’d lost and could never have again. It didn’t matter that she’d loved him. The husk of her body was no longer capable of such things.

  Grace’s hands finally stopped shaking, and she threw the thick down quilt that covered her aside. She tossed the T-shirt she’d slept in on the bed and pulled on a black sports bra and a pair of matching cotton shorts. She laced up her shoes, grabbed her key card and her Sig, and she escaped.

  The clock in her kitchen said it was just shy of four, and she unlocked and opened her door that led into the hallway she and Gabe shared.

  Silence.

  She crept down the hall and rode the elevator to the fifth floor. Gabe hadn’t been kidding when he’d said there was a full gym. She ran her fingers over the free weights, picked one up and tested it with slow curls. There were machines of every variety, and an entire wall of mirrors. But it was the large sparring ring and punching bags that caught her attention.

  Perfect. She needed to beat the hell out of something.

  She wrapped her hands with tape and found a pair of gloves that fit. The first punch of her fist against the bag sent vibrations up her arm and down to her toes. Her body came alive from the pain, and the punches came faster and the hits harder.

  * * *

  Gabe didn’t know how long he stood at the edge of the room and watched her. She was like a fury—all hands and fists and feet. She looked like she was fighting for her life. Maybe she was.

  She’d forgotten to braid her hair. It was pulled back in a loose tail and curled riotously down her spine. Sweat gleamed on her skin, and energy vibrated out of every pore. Her body was a beautiful machine, and toned muscles flexed and bunched with every hit to the bag.

  Gabe felt the tightening in his lower body and anticipation coiled in his gut. He’d always wanted her, but seeing her again after so long turned the want into need. He knew as well as she did it would only be a matter of time before they had each other again.

  He thought back to Jack’s surprise that Gabe hadn’t been with another woman since Grace left. He’d had women before Grace. Hell, he’d been no better than Jack. Having a different name in every country was exciting in more ways than one. He could be anybody, and there was a certain amount of excitement in sleeping with a woman who didn’t know your real name or that you’d killed someone the hour before.

  But everything changed after Grace. He knew there was no point being with another woman ever again. No one would ever feel as good wrapped around him while he thrust into her wet heat. No one else would come close to fulfilling him as she did.

  Only she had that power over him.

  Grace hit the bag hard enough that Gabe winced in sympathy. The band around her hair fell to the ground, and a waterfall of red spiraled down her back. There was no point in fighting it. He was already lost.

  * * *

  Grace stopped punching and pulled off her gloves, putting them back in the slot she’d gotten them from. She unwrapped the tape and tossed it into the trash bin before reaching down to grab her hair band. Her fingers tightened around the elastic and she realized she was no longer alone.

  She turned and saw Gabe watching her out of hooded eyes. The bulge in his shorts made it impossible not to notice that he liked what he saw. Her body jumped in reaction—wanting to answer his call like a cat in heat. The electricity between them made the hair on her arms stand on end, and her nipples puckered under the black spandex of her sports bra.

  “What do you say? You up for a little one on one?” He dared.

  She wanted to say yes, but her mind was screaming no. “I don’t think so. I’ve already been down here an hour. You’re fresh. It hardly seems fair to me.”

  “Come on. I figure you want to get even with me for taking you down in Colombia. I’ll even spot you a round. We’ll go two out of three.”

  He pulled his s
hirt off and threw it on the ground before she could agree or disagree. God, he was beautiful. Scars and all. His body was lean, and she was distracted by the hard ridges of muscle on his chest and stomach. A thin layer of black hair curled across his chest and swirled down his stomach in a line, disappearing beneath his shorts. His shoulders were broad and his hips narrow. The two little muscular indentions just above his hip bones just begged to be bitten. She’d done it before, and he’d gone wild.

  His body was a finely tuned instrument that could bring pleasure or pain in equal measures, and moisture pooled in her panties at the sight of him. He was already climbing into the ring, sure she’d follow after him. Cocky bastard.

  “Agreed.” She climbed in after him, the anticipation making her jumpy. Their fighting stances were different, but both effective. They circled each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  “Come on, sweetheart. If I’d known you wanted to dance, I would have put some music on.”

  Grace swept her foot out, but he blocked it with his forearm. They kept circling, and Gabe’s taunting smile was beginning to get on her nerves.

  “When was the last time you were in the ring?” she asked. “You’ve been out of the action for a while now. I think you’ve slowed down with old age.”

  “Like hell.”

  He swung out, and she blocked the strike, but she felt the vibration of his powerful punch all the way up her arm. She was glad he’d pulled it.

  “Besides, sometimes slower is better. You remember, don’t you?”

  How could she forget? Her body tingled with awareness even as her brain fought for sanity. He was fighting dirty.

  “The silver hairs are new. It makes you look very distinguished.” She swept her foot again, but this time followed it up with a punch to the solar plexus, and then she pushed her full weight against him to bring him to the floor. He put his arms around her to cushion the fall, but it was still like hitting a cement wall.

  “Pin,” she said.

  “I don’t have silver in my hair.”

  “I know.” She jumped up and bounced on the balls of her feet. She knew he’d let her take him down. She could tell by the brace of his body as she hit against him. But he wasn’t going to let her win again. He immediately charged at her and took her down to the mat, pulling his weight at the last minute so he didn’t crush her.

  “Pin,” he whispered against her ear, causing her to shiver.

  Sweat dripped from his hair down his face, and his body was hard against hers. She could feel his arousal, and her hips ached to push against him. Her nipples hardened, and awareness widened his pupils until only a thin ring of blue showed. He pushed off of her slowly and pulled her to her feet.

  Her heart was in her throat, and the fierce need building inside of her made it hard to think. Just as he’d planned. She jumped up and sent a roundhouse to his head, but he swatted her foot aside and laughed. Their strikes at each other grew faster and harder. Their bodies closer together. Their breaths mingled, and their skin slickened with sweat, and every touch was like a flash of lightning straight to her core. She faked a punch, and he ducked, grabbing her around the waist. Their limbs tangled, and they fell together to the mat in a twisted mass of arms and legs.

  They stared at each other, eyes wide, as they panted for breath. “Pin,” Gabe said softly.

  “Looks like you win the prize.”

  His erection was long and hard between her thighs, and she immediately adjusted her position so he pressed just where she wanted him to. Her fingers curled into his back, and she let out a moan full of pent-up desire and frustration as she arched against him.

  “Christ, Grace.”

  She shivered as he ran his hands up her sides and pulled the sports bra over her head. His fingers were calloused and knew just where she liked to be touched. Her nipples stood erect, waiting for his mouth like ripe raspberries, and she threaded her fingers through his hair as he lowered his head and took what was offered. Every tug and pull of his suctioning mouth echoed in her pussy until she was soaking wet for him and writhing in need.

  He licked and kissed his way across her torso, paying special attention to each breast before kissing his way up her neck to find her mouth.

  “You taste good,” he said.

  “Please.” The sounds coming from her throat were desperate as he finally took her lips in a wet kiss—teeth and tongues sparring just as their bodies had. He was demanding her surrender, and she was afraid she’d give in.

  The feel of him against her was like coming home. And it scared the hell out of her. She couldn’t do this. He would open up all the wounds she’d spent the last two years cauterizing, and she couldn’t let it happen. No matter what her body wanted. She stiffened as he stripped her shorts down her thighs and she felt his fingers probe at her moist center. He scraped against the swollen nub between her folds, and her body shuddered in ecstasy even as her mind screamed in denial. Her body was more than ready for him, but was mentally miles away.

  Her breathing turned to desperate gasps as panic clawed at her. His cock was poised at her entrance, the plump head ready to penetrate, just as she gathered enough breath to speak.

  “No, wait. Stop,” she rasped.

  Grace pushed against his chest, and he looked down at her, the glaze of lust in his eyes so heavy she thought he wouldn’t be able to stop. But Gabe had always had an inordinate amount of self-control. He shook his head once to clear it and pushed away from her, rolling onto his back.

  Grace rolled onto her side and curled into herself. Her lungs burned, and her skin was clammy with fear and unspent desire. Nausea made her close her eyes and count her breaths. She didn’t know how long she’d been closed in on herself when Gabe’s panicked voice finally got through.

  “Grace, tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

  He was stroking her hair, and it felt good. She brought her hands up to her face and found her cheeks wet with tears. What the hell was wrong with her? She was losing her mind. She looked around to reorient herself. Gabe’s hair hung low on his forehead, and his eyes were full of concern. His chest was still bare, but he’d at least managed to put his shorts back on.

  Grace pushed his hand away and sat up slowly. She was still naked, but she didn’t care. She cleared her throat before she spoke.

  “Sorry about that. I get panic attacks sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

  “You scared ten fucking years off my life. It seemed like a pretty big deal to me.”

  “It’s none of your business, Gabe. Leave it alone.” She stood and gathered her clothes off the floor, stepping into her shorts and then pulling the sports bra over her head.

  “If something’s wrong with you, it’s very much my business. Other than the obvious reasons, I also have a team to manage. I have a right to know everything down to the smallest detail about each of you.”

  “I can go back on our bargain any time, Gabe. Don’t push me on this.” She moved toward the elevator and escape.

  “Grace.”

  The sound of his voice stopped her. It wasn’t demanding or threatening, but understanding, and she couldn’t deal with it right now.

  “I lost her, too,” he said. “I lost you both because you ran away. You can’t just bury the pain and pretend it doesn’t exist. You need to talk to someone.”

  Grace shook her head as her eyes filled and tears threatened. But she remained in control, and her voice was steady when she spoke. “It’s over between us, Gabe. Seeing you is a painful reminder of things I don’t want to think about. I signed the divorce papers a long time ago, and I think it’s best if everything between us from now on is business only.”

  Grace swiped her card at the elevator and left Gabe behind. For the second time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hazy morning light filled the interior of Ethan’s bedroom, and he opened his eyes with both reluctance and anticipation. He put his feet on the floor and stretched, knocking over an empty coffee cup on his nightsta
nd along with a smattering of papers. He swore and reached for his glasses, though they didn’t clear the sleep from his eyes. He grabbed his pajama pants off the floor and stumbled into them before shuffling to the bathroom.

  When he came out, the smell of coffee greeted him, and the last lingering dregs of sleep faded as he realized someone had breached his security. He grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be a shoe, and crept into the main room as adrenaline flooded his system. Fear lodged in his throat, making it difficult for him to swallow as he ran probabilities and the implications of what a breach would mean. The others had to be dead or captured.

  His thoughts spiraled out of control with every step he took closer to danger. What had he done wrong? He should have been alerted the moment someone stepped foot in the hallway outside his apartment. He’d never had problems with his security before. No one had ever been able to breach it. Well, except for Gabe, but that was to be expected of the guy in charge.

  “Are you planning on shoeing someone to death?” A cold voice asked from his right.

  Ethan whirled around to find Grace leaning against his kitchen counter, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. She was dressed in a threadbare grey T-shirt and worn jeans, and her hair was braided loosely down her back. At first glance, Ethan thought she looked closer to his own age, but her eyes held an experience and wisdom that most people never achieved. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d earned every inch of her reputation.

  “How in the hell did you get in here?” Ethan asked.

  He felt the flush of embarrassment working its way up his neck, and that only intensified his anger. His system had not only failed, but she had been the one to do it. He dropped the shoe and ran to the front door, tripping over the corner of his rug and barely catching himself on the corner of the couch before he face-planted on the tile. He ignored the sting to his pride, too curious to see what she’d done to the system he’d installed. He opened the panel in the wall, but everything was just as it should be. The wires were intact, and the red light was engaged, just as he’d left it the night before.