Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4)

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Dangerous Assignment (Aegis Group Book 4) Page 25

by Sidney Bristol


  “Can I speak with him?”

  “He left instructions for how to call him. I’m guessing they’ll make more sense to you than they did to me.” Mama Dean placed a satellite phone and a piece of paper on the table next to the bed.

  Abigail’s hands shook as she unfolded the paper and worked out the code.

  “You need me, buzz me. I’ll tell Luke to give you a minute. I need to take some more blood.” Mama Dean stood and in a matter of a few, relatively painless moments, had enough blood for her tests. “It’s unlikely to be positive. I’ll do this myself and be back in a little while.”

  “Thank you,” Abigail said in a rush. “I don’t want to hurt Luke.”

  Mama Dean paused halfway to the door and studied Abigail.

  “We don’t always mean to do the things we do now, do we?” Mama Dean let herself out of the room.

  Abigail stared at Luke’s form silhouetted against the blinds.

  She’d stood up to Luke about Baron. When everything went to shit, she’d never doubted that Baron was honest with her. Had it all been a lie? Before she could face Luke, she had to know…

  Abigail dialed the number, her fingers fumbling over the keys, punching in one code after another while the signal was bounced from satellite to satellite. It rang and rang and rang. When it should have gone to voicemail, it just kept ringing.

  A landline then?

  But what line?

  “Yael?” Baron’s voice inspired only anger in her now. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

  “You told me I couldn’t have children.”

  Silence.

  “Baron? Can you hear me?” Her hands shook.

  “I’m here.”

  “The doctor gave me a blood test, and you know what she told me?”

  “What?” Was it her imagination, or was that fear in his voice?

  “She said I might be pregnant. How is that a possibility, Baron? How?” Her throat ached, either from having a breathing tube shoved down it or emotion. She’d seen the note. She knew the truth. Still, she wanted to hear it from Baron’s lips.

  “You’re still recovering—”

  “And you’re going to have to recover from my fist up your ass if you don’t start talking now.” Abigail squeezed her eyes shut. “You lied to me.”

  “Think about it, Yael—”

  “Yael is dead. You killed her the day you sat her down and said you had a plan. I died that day. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? I could have been happy. I could have had a life. Instead… I let you tell me this was all I was good for.”

  “Think of the people you’ve saved—”

  “No! No, you don’t get to put that on me. What about my choices? My life? You knew I’d do anything for you. You knew I adored you. I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” She drew her knees up and lay on her side.

  “I…I…don’t know what to say. I told you I made mistakes that—”

  “You didn’t tell me this. You didn’t give me a choice. You told me I wasn’t good enough for anything else.”

  “Those were not my words!”

  “They might as well have been.” She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the soul deep urge to cry, to mourn the girl she might have been. “I never want to hear from you again. Do you understand me?”

  “Abigail—we know where Zacharias is.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “I know how we can get him, but I need your help. One last time?”

  She ended the call.

  The only thing she wanted more than Zach dead, was Baron’s balls on a platter.

  Abigail covered her mouth with her hand. The world was one sick joke.

  She curled up on her side, the soul-deep ache hurting her very soul. Of course they’d have told her whatever Baron saw fit to keep her under their thumb. They’d been desperate to get a foothold in the Taliban, to get someone deep undercover.

  And she’d been perfect.

  There was no arguing with that. Her back story, her age, it’d all worked in their favor. She could see how she’d been the only possible candidate. But she should have had a choice in it. The chance to choose for herself. And now, what if she was a mother? What then?

  A gunshot wound to her abdomen had almost resulted in a hysterectomy when she was twenty-eight. The doctors had pieced her back together then, but what if she was permanently scarred? What if the work she’d done made her unable to be a mother? Not that she’d be a good one, but she should have had the option. And what if Baron had told the truth? What if the tests were false?

  The door opened and shut. She was aware of Luke’s presence. It was hard not to be. He silently took her hand, and she prayed he didn’t know why she cried.

  Luke’s palms were sweaty as he held the apartment door for Abigail. He couldn’t remember the state in which he’d left it before heading out for the craziest gig of his life. It felt as though he hadn’t been home for months. She stepped inside the darkened two-bedroom and he followed her in, glancing around.

  No boxes. He hadn’t left a pile of gym clothes lying around, no stray shoes or socks. All in all it wasn’t too bad. He could have vacuumed, and his clean laundry was piled on the coffee table, but otherwise it was decent. It only got better right before his mother arrived on one of her unannounced visits.

  “It’s not fancy or anything—”

  “It’s nice.” Abigail walked to the overstuffed sofa and slowly sat down. Her face didn’t betray any pain she might be feeling, but he could see it. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t have, but he’d begun to read her non-expressions for what they really meant.

  “You want anything? A drink? Something to eat? I could order food.”

  “No, everything’s fine. Thanks for letting me crash here. I’m not sure your doctor likes me much.”

  “Mama Dean? She’s rough on everyone. Don’t take it personally.” Luke flipped the locks, hyper aware of how precious she was to him and how vulnerable Abigail was in this state.

  He sat on the sofa next to her, and she reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. Watching her unconscious body for two days had been the hardest thing he’d done in ages. She was tougher than nails, but even she could be broken.

  “How you feeling?” he asked.

  “Pestered.”

  “I’m hovering, aren’t it?”

  “A little.” She smiled and cracked open one eye.

  “I’ll stop, but if you need anything, let me know, okay?”

  “How about a kiss?”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  He braced one hand on the back of the cushions and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. She sighed into his mouth and cupped his cheek.

  Abigail was alive.

  Luke had to remind himself of that every so often, that this wasn’t a dream. That she was here. He slid his hand up her cheek, into her hair. Her teeth grazed his lip and he shuddered.

  She turned her head away, gasping for breath. He set his forehead against her and closed his eyes.

  He’d almost lost her, but she was safe.

  “I need to tell you something.” Abigail’s voice was…different.

  “What’s wrong?” He pulled back, her creased, worried expression concerning him a hell of a lot more than it would with anyone else.

  Abigail didn’t show her emotions…

  She held his hand in both of hers, stroking his fingers.

  “I tried to tell you yesterday, but I didn’t know how…”

  “Tell me what?” He tensed, not knowing what to expect.

  “Baron lied to me.” She lifted her gaze to stare at him.

  “That fucker lied about a lot of things. That’s not on you.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. Whatever it was, he could see it hurt her. “He had the doctors lie to me.”

  “Okay…”

  “He had them tell me I was barren to expedite the divorce proceedings and convince me to become an
agent.”

  “Wait—what?”

  “They were always paranoid another doctor would be bribed or paid off, so I never went to one that wasn’t also a Mossad agent. I’m not barren. I’m not pregnant, but I could have been.”

  Holy…shit.

  He stared at her, those words replaying in his mind again and again.

  She wasn’t barren. Infertility wasn’t the issue.

  And they’d had sex.

  Multiple times.

  Bareback.

  Luke opened his mouth but the words were stuck in his throat. His emotions vacillated from anger to fear, pissed to sorrow, hope and…he didn’t have a name for it.

  “I’m not pregnant.” Abigail stared at the floor, her knees, something that wasn’t him. “I used to say that to my mother. I was so scared, and he used that fear against me. I can’t help but wonder, what else was a lie? What kind of life would I have had if they’d told me the truth? All this time, it’s all been a lie. Everyone I thought I could trust…was lying to me. Everyone.”

  He wrapped an arm around her, tugging her close. She leaned into him, turning her face toward his chest. He hooked an arm under her knees and pulled her into his lap, cradling this amazingly strong woman. Now more than ever he wanted to take a baseball bat to Baron’s knees, his face.

  “Who would I have been?” she whispered, her voice small and broken.

  Need had created an agent unlike any other. As Yael, she was strong, capable, and deadly—everything Mossad required her to be. They’d defined who and what she was, and in the process removed any choice she had.

  He couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around that sort of violation.

  “If I ever see Baron again I’m going to kick his ass.” Luke rubbed her back, needing to comfort her since he couldn’t fix it.

  “Get in line. I called dibs.”

  “I’ll tell you what, I’ll hold him down while you kick his ass, and you can sit back and watch me finish it?”

  “Deal.” He heard the smile and felt her sigh.

  He kissed the top of her head, but resisted the urge to squeeze her. Three cracked ribs weren’t something to mess with.

  “Who do you think I would have been?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I think you’re still that same person. It’s not like Mossad or the SEALs or anyone out there can make you be someone you aren’t. They can’t install the drive to succeed, to be strong, in someone. They can’t hardwire you with a set of morals to know right and wrong. That’s something you’re born with. They just saw the kind of person they could make you into if they buffed and shined the right parts. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes. But what if they destroyed parts of me along the way? Sometimes I wonder if I know how to care for people.”

  “Sugar, the people closest to you have always wanted something from you. I’d be surprised if you weren’t suspicious of everyone. Even me.”

  “There’s nothing suspicious about you. I know what you want.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, the sexy smile she aimed at him another kind of danger.

  “Any way, every day.” He buzzed her lips with a kiss.

  “Now?”

  The way she said it…she wasn’t joking.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Luke swallowed. It wouldn’t take much to convince him. Still, he couldn’t shake those last few moments in the Jeep before Marco and the others had swooped in. How she’d knocked on death’s door.

  “You’ll have to do most of the work.”

  “I can handle that.”

  He stood, holding her as carefully as possible, and carried her into his bedroom.

  “What? No funny line?” She ran her fingers over his lips.

  “Not this time.”

  Luke set her down on the side of his mattress. He peeled her shirt up. One of the wives had gone shopping for Abigail. There was no more blood stained clothing. Nothing from their mad dash across a continent trying to kill them.

  He knelt next to the bed, between her knees.

  “You don’t move one muscle, understand?”

  “I’m not—”

  “You don’t move, got it?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.” He stretched to kiss her mouth.

  “Am I allowed to kiss you? Or does that break your no moving rule?”

  “You can kiss.”

  “Can I touch?”

  “Tell me what you want to touch.”

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, bunching the fabric up in her fists.

  He yanked the shirt off and she slid her palms across his back. He kissed her neck, down her chest to the valley between her breasts.

  “Tell me if anything hurts.” He used both hands to carefully pry the catch open.

  “Just don’t mash my ribs and we’ll be good.”

  “I think I can do that.” He peeled the bra off her shoulders and down her arms.

  “Screaming is probably out.” She straightened, arching her back slightly.

  “Save that for later.”

  She chuckled, her hands still roving over his back and shoulders.

  He splayed his hands over her back and licked one breast, then the other. She might like it when he treated her nipples roughly, but with two fractures just to the outside of one breast and one below the other, he was all too aware of how much a single caress could cause pain.

  “Lay back.” He pressed another kiss to her sternum.

  “I thought I wasn’t supposed to move.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter, pure mischief. Was this what she’d be like without the garbage Baron had piled on her? If it took a lifetime, Luke wanted to make sure she stayed like this. Happy. Care-free.

  “I’ll put you on your back.” He stood, one hand splayed against her spine.

  “Is that a threat?” Abigail relaxed, letting him lay her down, legs still hanging off the side. Her smile was everything his life had been missing.

  “A promise.”

  He kissed his way down her body until he could hook his fingers in the front of her jeans. The tab at her hips slipped through his fingers a few times before he got it undone and the miniscule zipper lowered.

  She drew one foot up, lifting her hips. He took the hint and stripped both jeans and panties off her body. It seemed they were always doing this, stripping each other bare until there was nothing but need between them.

  Luke kissed her thigh and dipped his fingers between her folds.

  “Christ,” he muttered.

  He pumped her, using two and then three fingers until she shifted on the bed. He used one hand on her stomach to hold her in place while he licked her, tasting her arousal. She fisted the comforter. Her little gasps and moans drove him on. He felt the moment her muscles released and orgasm rushed through her.

  Luke stood, digging through his nightstand for a condom. If he’d thought to plan ahead he’d have been ready. Buried at the bottom was a strip. He ripped one off, shucked his clothes, and rolled the latex on.

  He stood, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other on her knee.

  Damn, she was amazing. And she wanted him.

  He leaned over her, pressing his cock to her pussy, coating himself with her arousal. She reached for him, one hand around the back of his neck, the other over his cock, pulling him closer.

  Her lashes fluttered, her eyes opening wider as he pressed into her. He braced himself with one hand on the bed. He slid deep, groaning as she took all of him.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he muttered.

  “You feel hard.”

  “That’s a relief.” He leaned over her and kissed her mouth. He shifted his hips to pull out of her and slide back in.

  She groaned into his mouth, her lips parting.

  He remained braced above her, watching her face, the way she bit her lip. How she sucked in her cheeks before allowing a gasp to pass her mouth.

  She was beautiful.

  Amazing.

  His.

&n
bsp; Her eyes fluttered wide, pupils dilated, sightless. Her mouth opened on a long moan. He nearly went cross-eyed from the viselike grip of her pussy. Even lost in bliss, he tried to be careful, to not jostle her.

  Abigail reached down, digging her nails into his ass, driving him deeper. He levered up on both hands and drove into her harder. She stared at him, watching their bodies.

  Luke shouted, orgasm spurting from him without warning. He dropped to his elbows, burying his face in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him.

  God, he loved her.

  “Your phone keeps ringing,” she said between breaths.

  “What?”

  “The phone. It’s ringing. Could it be important?”

  “No.” Right now he couldn’t care less about his phone or whoever was calling.

  “Luke? Luke, answer your cell phone.” The voice yelling at him from the answering machine worked about as well as a cold bucket of water.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “I’m at the airport. When you get your lazy butt out of bed, come get me.”

  He stared at Abigail’s wide eyes and parted lips.

  His mother.

  In town.

  Now.

  Just what he needed.

  21.

  Zacharias paced the empty office suite.

  Fifteen minutes.

  Where the hell were they?

  He adjusted the cuffs on his shirt. The suit didn’t fit quite right, but he didn’t have time to see a tailor. An off-the-rack suit would have to do. For now.

  But punctuality was clearly more than his new clients could manage.

  He took another back and forth tour of the meeting spot.

  Night swaddled the city in darkness, broken only by the street lights. This part of DC was quiet at night. All the better for a meet. If his customers would just hurry the fuck up.

  He glanced again at his phone.

  No messages.

  No signal.

  The damn Koreans were grinding his patience down to nothing.

  A car turned down the street. The streetlights gleamed off its dark exterior. The car slowed and turned into the lot next door.

  “Is that them?” Zacharias asked over his shoulder.

  “Yes, sir. Perimeter has verified their identity.”

  Money could buy a lot of things. Decent help was one of them.

 

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