Midnight Alias

by Elle Kennedy

  Luke drove right past the warehouse and turned left at the end of the road. He slowed in front of a crumbling brick building, but the glimmers of candlelight slicing out of various boarded-up windows told him there were squatters inside. He kept driving, eventually coming to a stop on a gravel lot behind a furniture warehouse.

  He and Trevor got out of the car, quickly gathering up their gear. Guns slid into waistbands and shoulder holsters, earpieces went in, rifles were locked and loaded. Trevor reached for his earpiece and said, “We’re here. You guys set up?”

  D’s voice crackled in Luke’s ear. “I’m covering the back.”

  “I’ve got the west entrance,” Holden said.

  “Eyes and ears open, boys.” Trevor turned to Luke. “Get positioned by the east entrance. I’ll take the front and the loading dock.”

  They went their separate ways, each one disappearing into the shadows. Reaching into his back pocket, Luke pulled out a black wool cap and shoved it on his head, then put on a pair of leather gloves. There was a chill in the air, and his breath left puffs of white as he wove through the various lots toward the warehouse. He hopped a fence, his boots making no sound as they landed on the gravel. To the east of the warehouse stood a vacant mechanic shop that had seen better days. It was a sprawling one-story building with the doors chained up, but the rusted metal roof would provide good cover. Securing his rifle over his shoulder, he approached the side of the garage and found a half-gutted gray van on the pavement. He glanced at the van, then up at the flat roof, fifteen feet up. The exterior cinder-block walls rose about a foot above the roof, parapet style.

  Rubbing his hands together, Luke vaulted onto the roof of the van. There was a creak of metal. He froze. Waited. Nobody came storming out of the next building. Good to go. He secured his footing, then rose to his full height on top of the van, which brought him to nearly eye level with the roof. Quick as lightning, he leapt from the van to the wall. As his hands connected with the edge, he hoisted himself up and crawled on his belly toward the other side of the roof.

  When he was in position, he murmured, “East entrance covered.”

  And then he fixed his gaze on the neighboring warehouse and prepared for the long night ahead.

  * * *

  They reconvened at the apartment at nine the next morning, all except Holden, who’d stayed behind to monitor the warehouse. After spending the entire night casing the place, Luke was convinced they were onto something. There were only six guards patrolling the property, but they’d been armed to the teeth—AKs, M16s, M4s. Heavy-duty shit. They had to be protecting something damn important, but Morgan’s intel said De Luca didn’t use the facility for his drug operation, so that meant a different kind of merchandise was being held there. A missing DEA agent perhaps . . .

  Problem was, they still had no idea what to expect if they raided the place. Only six men were posted on the exterior, but who knew how many guards they’d find inside the warehouse.

  Fortunately, that question was answered once Trevor got Morgan on speakerphone. Luke, Trevor, and D settled on the couches for the briefing, and Holden and Sullivan were conferenced in while each continued to man his respective post.

  “Abby got us the intel,” Morgan announced. “She’s on the line.”

  “Hey, boys.” Abby’s voice slid out of the speaker.

  “How you doing, Sinclair?” Luke drawled. “I hear you’ve been teaching my dog some new tricks.”

  “I have.” She gave a dry laugh. “Bear can now rip someone’s throat out on command, and we’ve been working on sniffing out explosives. I set C4 around the compound but your mutt’s detection skills suck. You should’ve started training him a long time ago.”

  He shook his head, even though Abby couldn’t see him. “You are the most terrifying person I’ve ever met,” he informed her. “And I swear to God, if one of your bombs blows up my dog, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  And they both knew that wasn’t gonna happen. He had no desire to mess with a former assassin, not even one as hot as Abby.

  Trevor leaned forward. “Did you get in touch with your CIA guy?”

  “Sure did,” she answered. “I just e-mailed you some satellite images. According to my source, you’re looking at eight guards. Looks like they patrol the building in teams of three, with five on the inside. Of the five, two watch the front door, two guard the back, and one’s posted on the second story. My guy said there might be someone else, a static target near the second-floor guard. Heat signature’s fucked up, but it could be a ninth body.”

  “Dane,” Trevor guessed.

  “That’s my bet. I think the upstairs guard is posted outside the room where they’re holding Dane.” There was some shuffling on the line. “Gotta go. Lloyd’s serving brunch on the terrace. Good luck, boys.”

  Morgan’s voice replaced Abby’s. “Come up with an extraction plan,” the boss ordered. “If you have need of the contractors, call me and I’ll set it up.”

  After the boss disconnected, Luke looked at Trevor, then D. “What do we think?”

  “Eight men? No problem,” D said with a shrug.

  “Eight men with assault rifles,” Trevor pointed out.

  “Assault rifles, yeah,” D agreed, “but that’s it for security. No trip wires, no alarms, no motion sensors.”

  “No cameras,” Holden piped up from the speakerphone.

  “Cakewalk.” Sullivan’s voice chimed in.

  “Yeah, maybe. Or we’re walking into a trap.” Trevor pursed his lips. “Let me study the images Abby sent and we’ll go from there.”

  The briefing came to an end, and both Luke and D stood up. As D stalked off toward the rear of the apartment, Luke glanced at their team leader. “I’m going to crash for a few hours, and then I’ll take over for Sully with Olivia.”

  Trevor nodded. “Tell her to ask Angelo for a few days off. If she’s serious about getting out of the city, she needs to be ready to skip town at a second’s notice.”

  Chapter 13

  Olivia hesitated outside Vince’s office the following evening, trying to collect her composure before she knocked. She’d caught a glimpse of him when she’d walked into the club twenty minutes ago, but he’d been in deep conversation with two of his bodyguards, and then the three of them had hurried upstairs as if something big was going down. She wanted no knowledge of that, though. Ever since she’d overheard those two thugs talking about drugging the girls, she’d been battling rage and horror. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised that Vince was pulling shit like that, but she couldn’t comprehend it. The bastard was pumping heroin and Ecstasy into those girls’ veins, all so they’d be compliant and sleep with Vince’s Mafia pals. What kind of person did that?

  At least this would all be over soon. The voice mail Luke had left on her phone this morning had sent hope soaring through her. The address she’d found looked promising, and tonight his team would hopefully find the agent they were looking for. She’d held up her part of the bargain, and now Luke would return the favor. He would help her get away from Vince.

  But who would help the girls she left behind?

  She shoved away that troubling thought and knocked on Vince’s door. When he shouted out an impatient “Come in,” she took a breath and stepped into his office.

  “Do you have a minute?” she asked.

  His brown eyes lit up. “For you? Of course. Come here, babe.”

  She walked over to him. Didn’t even flinch when he pulled her onto his lap and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Sorry I wasn’t around last night,” he said. “My meeting ran late.”

  “Everything okay with the investors?”

  “It’s all good. Nothing for you to worry about.” He stroked the side of her neck, then frowned when he felt the thin chain around her throat. The frown transformed into a happy smile as he lifted the chain and saw the dangling silver cross, studded with small diamonds. “You’re wearing it.”

 
Olivia mentally awarded herself a gold star. Vince had given her the necklace when they’d first started “dating” after the attack. She hardly ever wore it, but after her visit to St. Mary’s, she’d dug the chain out of the bottom of her jewelry box. That way if he questioned her visit to the church, she could claim to have rediscovered her religion.

  “Cora’s death reminded me how important faith is,” she said demurely.

  Vince beamed. “Good girl.”

  She noticed he didn’t even address the Cora’s death part, but that didn’t surprise her.

  “So what do you need?” he prompted.

  “I was hoping I could take the next few days off.”

  A cloud of suspicion darkened his eyes. She’d expected that—he always got agitated when she brought up something he didn’t approve of. “Why’s that?” Vince asked sharply.

  “It’s my mom. She’s not doing too great after this last round of chemo and I need to be at home to take care of her.”

  “You said her hair’s growing back.”

  She bristled, biting back a nasty remark. Right, because that meant everything was A-OK. All the poison that had been pumped into Kathleen’s veins hadn’t hurt her at all, because, hey, her hair was growing back.

  “It is, but that doesn’t mean she’s better,” Olivia replied, trying to keep her voice calm. “The treatments hit her hard. The fatigue is worse than ever, she’s anemic, her immune system is shot. And don’t get me started on the kidney damage.” She sighed. “It’ll take a while before she’s fully recovered.”

  “Oh, baby.”

  The sympathy on his face made her nauseous. She didn’t know why he bothered pretending to care. They both knew he was a megalomaniac who cared only about himself.

  “I need to be home right now,” she maintained. “Mom just came down with a cold, and I’m worried that if I’m not around to make sure she rests and takes care of herself, it’ll turn into pneumonia. That’s what happened a few years ago, and she nearly died.”

  Vince fell silent, but his eyes never left hers. His distrustful expression returned, and she could see his brain working, as if he was trying to figure out whether to grant her the request. She prayed he would.

  And that the price of it wouldn’t be too high.

  Her prayers went unanswered when he opened his mouth and said, “And what about our celebration, Olivia, or have you forgotten about that?”

  She swallowed. “I haven’t forgotten. I’m . . . looking forward to it.”

  His hand moved back to her neck, fingers curling over her flesh. It was a gentle touch, but not an idle one. His fingertips skimmed over the hollow of her throat as he spoke in a low voice. “I’ve waited a long time for you.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  He found her pulse point and pressed the tip of his finger into it. “I’d like to think it’ll be worth the wait.” He slanted his head. “Will it be worth the wait, my love?”

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it.”

  Queasiness washed over her. God, was this it? Was sleeping with this man the price she’d be required to pay for her freedom? Luke had told her to ease Vince’s mind, to ask for a couple of days off and act like nothing was out of the ordinary, but she doubted he’d meant for her to have sex with the guy.

  She swallowed again, pretty close to gagging—until it occurred to her that Vince had to be bluffing. He had waited a long time. Six months had passed since the attack in the alley, and in those six months he’d used tender persuasion and seductive words to bend her to his will. But she hadn’t bent. And even though his advances had grown more persistent, and more frequent, he continued to stress that their first time would be special.

  A quickie on his desk? With the music pounding from below and the chance of being interrupted?

  No, he wouldn’t allow that.

  As Vince continued to stroke her neck, she met his eyes and decided to call his bluff.

  “I wanted it to be special,” she murmured, “but you’re right. The waiting is becoming unbearable.”

  Surprise flared in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  Rather than answering, she pressed her lips to his. Acid shot up her throat, but she willed it away, feigning a moan when Vince’s tongue pushed into her mouth. He made a satisfied sound, snaking his arms around her waist. His tongue was wet and insistent, slithering in and out of her mouth like an eel.

  He won’t go through with it. He won’t.

  She felt the evidence of his arousal poking into her butt. Taking shallow breaths, she shifted on his lap and reached for the waistband of his trousers. “Promise to be gentle,” she whispered into his lips, while her hand fumbled with his zipper. “I heard it hurts the first time.”

  The breathy remark worked like a charm. Vince swiftly covered her hand with his, stilling her ministrations. He was breathing hard, his handsome face twisted in agony, as if putting a stop to this was pure torture. “Oh, babe,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against hers. “You are . . . extraordinary.”

  She blinked innocently. “I am?”

  His breath warmed her chin. “I won’t take you like this. No matter how much I want to shove my dick inside your tight pussy, it can’t be like this.”

  Jeez, were these the kind of sweet nothings he whispered in the ears of his bedmates? If so, no surprise he was still single.

  She sighed with mock disappointment. “But—”

  He silenced her by pressing his finger against her mouth. “It’s going to be special,” he vowed.

  Said the rapist to his victim.

  “But it won’t be tonight,” he finished. “Not here, and not like this.”

  “Then when?” she asked, holding her breath.

  His features grew agitated. “This will be a busy week for me, babe. I’ve got important meetings lined up, but it’ll all settle down after Tuesday.”

  Olivia released the breath. “Wednesday then,” she said eagerly.

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “Someone’s getting excited.” He ran his fingers over her cheekbone. “Wednesday it is, my love.”

  * * *

  Luke instantly knew something was wrong when Olivia stormed into her bedroom. He was lounging on her bed again, but she didn’t seem surprised to find him there. She also didn’t seem very pleased. Without a word, she began pacing the hardwood, her muscles stiff beneath her dark blue jeans and black V-neck sweater.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low in case her mother was still awake. He’d heard Kathleen puttering around the apartment earlier, but fortunately she hadn’t come into her daughter’s bedroom. He was always a big hit with mothers—they found him downright charming—but he doubted Olivia’s mother would be charmed if she discovered a strange man in her home.

  He was probably an idiot for sneaking in through the window again. What he ought to be doing was keeping watch outside the building like Trevor had ordered him to, but Olivia Taylor had done a number on his self-control. He liked being near her, and her bedroom smelled so damn good, like the sweet lemony scent of her hair and the strawberry stuff she lathered on her body. Yep, he’d fully peeked into her bathroom for confirmation on the strawberry situation. Very Berry Body Wash, right there on the little shelf built into the shower.

  He was so fucking pathetic.

  “Vince and I set a sex date,” she said emphatically, sinking down on the edge of the bed.

  He sat up, wary, then scooted closer to her. “What does that mean?”

  “What do you think it means?” she grumbled. “We’ve decided to have sex. This Wednesday. Can’t wait.”

  Luke relaxed. “It won’t happen. You know that, right? You’ll be out of this city long before then.”

  She shifted, her big green eyes pinning him with a razor-sharp look. “You promise to keep your end of the bargain?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Of course.”

  “Good. Then tell your team captain, or whatever you call him, to arrang
e the identity papers.” Her expression turned fierce. “I want a new name, a new everything—for me and my mother. Anything less, and Vince will track me down.”

  Man. Whatever happened between her and Angelo tonight had triggered something inside her. She was broadcasting some serious anger, and what sounded like a whole lot of panic. “Olivia—”

  “You don’t get it,” she cut in. “He’ll look for me. He loves me, Luke. He tells me that all the time, but tonight I saw it in his eyes. I can’t just move to another city and find a job and start a new life. I was fucking kidding myself, saving up money, thinking I could just move away. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

  Her breathing grew shallow, her eyes wild, which prompted him to pull her into his arms. “You’re not an idiot, darlin’.”

  She buried her face in his chest. “All I wanted to do was pay for school and take care of my mother. Cora told me I’d have all the cash I wanted working at the club, and she was right—the money’s good. It’s really good, Luke. But then the shit in the alley happened, and now I’ve got this thug, a thug in expensive suits, thinking he loves me.”

  She sounded so miserable, he felt something crack in his chest. Fuck, this woman deserved better than this. She’d worked like a dog her entire life, and she was only twenty-five. Juggling multiple jobs, trying to get an education, taking care of a sick mother. It suddenly made him so very grateful for his own upbringing. Parents who loved him, older sisters who protected him, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. He’d had it easy growing up, never had to work very hard, and when he’d joined the navy at eighteen, he’d had an easy ride there too.

  Until tragedy had struck, but even then he’d taken the easy way out. He’d bailed, distanced himself from his family because he was too fucking grief-stricken to face them. Olivia wouldn’t have bailed. Oh no, she would’ve clung to the only family she had left and never let go.