by Lexi Blake
“I don’t like the fact that she’s fucking him.” It rankled. She was supposed to be waiting. He’d isolated her so she didn’t have any friends, and she’d still found someone to fuck.
“She wasn’t a virgin.”
But he was sure she hadn’t had sex since her boy husband had died. She would be tight. So fucking tight. He could tear her up. He could make her plead and still he would shove his way in. He would spread her wide and fuck her until she bled. That would be a form of virginity. “I wasn’t asking your opinion.”
“It’s my job to make sure this deal runs smoothly, sir, and Avery Charles crying rape to Scotland Yard would be a problem. Wait until we get her safely in the Middle East, and we can deal with her. The house in Dubai is ready, and I have a phalanx of armed guards who will ensure she can’t leave. You can have your business, and you can keep her for as long as she entertains you. You’ve worked very hard, sir. Don’t screw it up now.”
“I want his head.”
“That could prove troublesome. Heads are heavy. How about I cut off his dick? So much easier to transport on the Tube.” Malcolm didn’t crack a smile.
“I don’t give a shit. I want him dead. Make it hurt.” He sighed. He really didn’t have time for this crap. “Just kill him. Don’t do it in her flat. Make it look like a random act. I don’t want her thinking this had anything to do with her. Not now.”
He would let her know later, when the time was right and she couldn’t get away. Avery was the woman he’d waited for. The one he’d sacrificed for. The one who made everything worthwhile. He’d killed plenty of bitches, but they hadn’t served his soul the way he thought Avery would.
“I can handle this for you.”
After he had the Lachlan Bates deal done, he could head to Dubai and then on to someplace even more isolated and live like a king. He would still travel, but his home base would be safe. Avery would be safe.
All he had to do was get through the next few weeks and make sure that shipment went out. Which meant he needed to find a way to get the cost of that goddamn wheat down or he needed to find a new donor because he wasn’t going to bear that cost himself.
He had to pay for too many assassinations anyway. Malcolm didn’t murder people for free, which was actually a minus against his continued employment.
“Also, here are the details of your meeting tomorrow,” Malcolm slid an envelope his way. It was plain with no writing on it, but he knew who it was from.
Eli Nelson. Another problem he had to deal with. He owed the man. But Nelson had taken his cut, and now he was back for more.
Still, he had connections. He wouldn’t have gotten the Lachlan Bates deal without him. Nelson had a real shot at helping him get into the Middle East. Africa was small potatoes compared to the Middle East. And he would dearly love to serve both sides of the inevitable Pakistani-Indian conflict. Nelson was working hard to make that little war happen.
It was worth giving him a cut. To a point.
He opened the instructions and sighed. “Do you have any idea what this shit is about?”
Malcolm shrugged. “I just take notes, boss.”
There wouldn’t be a second note, no ability to request an explanation for this very strange request. He would either follow it or he wouldn’t.
And that rankled, too. Nelson had simply given him his start, his new identity. He’d made it possible to cast off the old one like a snake shedding his skin. When he thought about his old life, it was with a sort of despairing nausea. The things he had done to please his disgusting family, to fit in, to try to show who he was. Nelson had taught him it was all right to follow his instincts, to take care of himself and let the others rot.
Oh, sometimes he missed them. Well, he missed one of them, but that life was dead. He’d eradicated it, and it couldn’t touch him now.
And perhaps Nelson had taught him all too well. Sometimes the best solution to a problem was getting rid of it all together.
After he had what he wanted.
“Of course, I’ll do as he asks. After all, he’s my mentor.” He didn’t bother to mention that he’d murdered his last mentor.
Malcolm was his liaison with Nelson. It seemed best to keep their meetings to a minimum so they weren’t connected. Malcolm had no connections. His cover was so deep Molina would be surprised if Malcolm remembered what his original name had been.
“Should I send Monica in, sir?” Malcolm got up and went to the door.
Sweet, dumb Monica. She thought he was going to marry her. She was good for hiding files and had a remarkably flexible jaw. She could take care of his problem. “Yes.”
Malcolm left and Molina found his cane. It was time to perform again.
Chapter Twelve
Liam watched her. He’d expected a bit more excitement, but Avery was shut down and had been for hours. She’d been waiting for him outside her office building, not inside as he’d planned. He wanted to get a lay of the land, but she’d been standing outside, her face a pale white, her hands on her purse. She’d followed him to the Tube, sat beside him through dinner, but she hadn’t really engaged.
It was getting to him. Was she that worried about the evening ahead?
“We could just go home,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was push her and potentially lose her, and it was for reasons that went far beyond the op. He wanted her to enjoy this part of his life. He was finally realizing just how much he needed it. He’d always thought of it as fun before, but now he wanted the responsibility. He wanted the deep ties that came with D/s.
She frowned up at him, her eyes blinking as though she was trying to process what he’d said. “What?”
Or she just hadn’t been listening. “I said we could just go home. You seem to have changed your mind.”
She seemed to have changed period. Her smile all evening long had been forced, her conversation stilted. She was always so present when she was with him, and now she seemed to be in another place entirely. She shook her head, her eyes going back to the building across the street. “No. I’m fine. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’ve promised to spank you for disobedience. You’re really looking forward to that?” She’d shut down after the threat. Had he really misjudged her? Was she really that worried about an erotic spanking?
A hint of a real smile finally lit her face. “Well, it is a little unfair, you see. I had to work. I don’t know that I like being punished for working, but that’s not really what it’s about, is it? It’s play, like you said. It’s just a fun game to spark our imaginations. Lee, I’m not afraid of you.”
She should be. She would run away if she knew half of the things he’d done under the excuse of protecting people. “Then tell me what’s wrong.”
He’d been afraid to ask up to this point. He’d been a pussy pansy-ass who wasn’t doing his job which was to protect her and comfort her. He might never have had a permanent sub before, but even he knew that was his primary function as a Dom. But he’d been afraid of the answer so he’d let her brood.
She shook her head. “It was just a rough day, Lee. The price of grain is up, and that has everyone scrambling. I’m sorry I’m being distant. I don’t mean to be, and I don’t want you to think I’m not interested in exploring the club. I want to. I’m rapidly discovering that really nasty sex can be a great stress reliever.”
Years he’d used subs for stress relief, but hearing Avery describe it like that cut him to the quick. She wasn’t telling him something. She was holding something in, and he hated it. A nasty little suspicion was thrumming through his veins. She’d thought he was a hustler before. What if the perfect little princess was just using him for sex? Had he really thought she was interested in him for anything beyond a little stress relief? She was smart. She’d grown up privileged. Yes, she’d lost her parents and that lifestyle, but did those beliefs ever really go away? She’d married a boy from a good family.
His family was all dead, and he’d had a hand in kil
ling his brother. He’d been born in a slum and still drank cheap beer.
Her hand went to his chest. “Lee? Are you all right?”
He forced his face to go blank. She was his fucking kryptonite. He’d been trained, worked for years, and it all fell away because one passably pretty girl said something to hurt him.
That was the problem. He knew she wasn’t beautiful. On an intellectual level, he knew she was rather plain. But when he looked at her all he saw was the sun in the sky, and she was never going to love him. She deserved better.
“Hey, maybe I could use a little stress relief, too.” He was well aware the words came out with a nasty little bite. He’d spent all day thinking about her, waiting for her, and she wanted to use him as stress relief. Two could play at that game, and he was the Dom in this situation. She was here for his use. “You’ll go into the club, and I have a friend waiting for you. Her name is Eve, and she’ll take you back to the dressing rooms.”
“You’re not going with me?” For the first time in hours, she really looked up at him.
He couldn’t help but soften slightly. “You have to change. It’s fet wear only once you get beyond the lobby, and men and women have separate locker rooms.”
“That sounds oddly normal for a place like this.”
“Only because you don’t understand a place like this. There are rules to the floor. I can walk you around naked on the floor of the club and everyone understands how to behave. And if they don’t they can get their asses handed to them. It’s not going to be a sexual free-for-all in there. It’s very disciplined.”
“You use that word a lot.” She started to follow him across the street, her eyes still on the building in front of her as though she was trying to see past the blandness of the outside.
“Discipline is important.” He’d been undisciplined for a good portion of his life. It was only when he’d gone into the Army and the SAS that he’d found it. His discipline had been blown away when his brother died, but Ian Taggart had given it back to him. Now the only question Liam had was why.
While Avery changed, he intended to get a few answers from his boss.
“How do you know this Eve person?” Avery asked, a hint of rebuke in her tone.
So she wanted to be a little jealous of her boy toy, did she? It was there on the tip of his tongue to mislead her, to let her think Eve was a lover. Eve was a gorgeous woman. Avery would compare herself and likely find herself lacking and then she would be out of the power position. And he just couldn’t do it. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “She’s just a friend. She’s Ian’s sister, so she’s a little like my sister. But she’s a perfectly experienced submissive.”
She was a whacked-out sub since she would take all the pain and refused any pleasure, but no one seemed to be able to crack Eve’s shell on that one. She allowed Alex to scene with her, but pulled away at the thought of aftercare.
“She’s Ian’s sister? And they play at the same club?”
Yeah, maybe they hadn’t thought this part of the cover through. “Oh, I think they try to avoid each other as much as possible, but it wouldn’t be safe for her to play anywhere else. Now stop procrastinating. Are you in or out?”
She nodded toward the door. “I’m in. I want to see what’s inside.”
Ah, sweet curiosity. It had killed many a cat, though this time it might kill him instead.
He opened the doors and escorted Avery into the very posh-looking lobby. Eve was waiting at the desk looking like a woman who often worked the front desk of a sex club.
She smiled brightly as they walked in, but he could hear the disapproval in her voice. “Lee, it’s so good to see you. It’s been such a long time. I really expected you to come around sooner.” Her British accent was every bit as perfect as Ian’s had been. Liam often thought that they were a group of people who could have been actors had they not been so bloody good at killing. “You must be Avery.”
Avery held out her hand, politely shaking Eve’s. She was an inch or two shorter than Eve and even dressed for work, she couldn’t match Eve’s flair for fashion. There was always something askew about Avery whether it was a button she’d missed or a little tear in her skirt. She was perfectly imperfect, and it just made him want to stay close to her so she never felt the need to change.
“Nice to meet you.” She glanced around the lobby. “It looks so normal.”
Eve laughed, her face lighting up. “Oh, that is a lovely thought. If only the whole world was normal. I think you’ll find we have a slightly different version of normal from most people. Come along, dear. Lee has your clothes set out for you. I’ll help you. I don’t suppose you’ve worn a corset before, have you?”
Her eyes went wide. “No.”
Eve winked at her. “Then I’ll definitely have to help you. I’ll give you a little advice. Breathe now while you can.” She started to lead Avery toward the women’s dressing room. Her blonde head turned slightly back toward him. “I’ll show Avery around. Lee, dear, I believe you’ll find Ian is waiting to have a word with you.”
He nodded. He could bet Ian was waiting. Ian would be up in his office, sitting behind his temporary desk and ready for to dress Liam down. Ian could be very formal in his own odd way. Liam had seen it happen before, though if Ian tried that Three Stooges routine he often ran on Adam, he would find out Liam hit back.
Liam walked through the door to the men’s locker room. Ian could wait.
Except Ian wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He was pacing the floor of the locker room, already dressed in leathers. Black leather covered his legs and a vest sat on his massive chest.
When he turned, he looked almost human. “Li, I need to talk to you.”
Fuck all. Ian looked worried. What the hell was going on? Liam could pretend to not quite understand or he could get right to the heart of the matter. He never had been one to prevaricate. He looked Ian right in the eye. “Did you or did you not run the op that got my brother killed?”
Ian stared right back. “I did and I didn’t.”
Liam groaned. “I’m not playing games. I want the truth.”
“I’m not playing games either, but I’m starting to suspect someone is playing them with us. There are too many coincidences. Those files were buried. Weston shouldn’t have been able to find them.”
“So you’re pissed that Weston got through your wall of protection?”
“Li, I didn’t cover the op up. The Agency did, and I didn’t even know they had buried the evidence until a few days ago. Honestly, I’ve always known we would have this conversation. I’ve been avoiding it for years.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a lot you don’t know, and honestly I didn’t think you needed to know. It was done. And it was a time in my life I don’t particularly want to remember.”
“Because of your wife?”
Ian’s face tightened. “Yes. Charlotte is a part of my life better left buried.”
“Did you kill her?” He really wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question.
“Yes and no.”
Liam was ready to punch a wall. “Fuck it, Ian, will you give me a bloody straight answer? I’m sick of this. I’m thinking about walking out of here right now and taking Avery with me.”
“Don’t you fucking threaten me,” Ian snarled.
“Ian, calm down. We talked about this.” Alex was sitting in the corner, still in his sweats and a T-shirt.
Liam ran a hand across his hair. If Alex had been a snake, he could have bitten him several times. Liam was losing it. “I didn’t see you.”
Alex gave Liam a little half smile. “Sorry. I’m here to make sure you two don’t beat each other down.”
“Like you could stop us,” Ian snarled back.
Liam was with Ian on this one. He was starting to think a beat down might be in order. Beating the fuck out of Ian just might make him feel better.
“In that case, I’m here to call the m
atch. Adam and Jake have a hundred riding on it. Jake thinks Ian will kill you, but Adam is counting on the fact that you’re awfully mean.” Alex sat back, waiting on the outcome.
“Does everyone know but me?” That was his fear. He was on the outside again. He was the one who didn’t fit.
Ian slapped at one of the lockers, the sound reverberating through the room. “No. Alex is the only person on the team who even knew I had ever been married. Adam and Jake and Eve just think I’m talking to you about the fact that you’ve been an asshole for four days and you’re jeopardizing this op.”
Ian hadn’t told his brother? “What about Sean?”
“My brother has enough problems with me as it is. Even back then, Sean had a love-hate relationship with me. Knowing about Charlie would have put him firmly in the hate camp, more than likely.”
“You’re wrong about Sean. He would understand,” Alex said quietly. “Li will, too. Tell him.”
Ian was quiet for the longest time, so long Liam thought he wasn’t going to speak. “I was recruited into the CIA through their black ops program. They sometimes recruit active Special Forces members to train as operatives. I was one of them. I had run two or three small-time missions, mostly gathering recon in Afghanistan. I served there for a long time and had very good contacts. That was where I first heard whisperings of an arms dealer selling tainted materials, enough to make a significant dirty bomb or several that when used in a coordinated attack could destabilize the economy of any number of first world countries.”
“I know the reason behind the op, Ian,” Liam replied. He’d sat through many briefings, boring meetings meant to make him brutally aware of every aspect of the operation. He’d been sure that they were just long to make the agent briefing them justify his job.
Ian moved on. “I started tracking the arms dealer, but I couldn’t get close to him. He had ties to the Russian mob. I didn’t. I knew it would take more than just money.”
“You needed someone with a bad reputation.” Liam knew this drill. Someone like Ian would have to be under deep cover. That was hard. The Russian mob had access to many ways to break a cover. They would need real ties, and Liam had them. He had them all over his nasty family tree.
