by Sage, D. S.
His hand started to reach for her arm, and Lily could only imagine what must be brewing in his mean mind when he suddenly drew back and shook his head.
“Still, I’m not gonna bite,” he said. “Don’t know what the kid put you up to, but you can run and tell him it didn’t work.”
As much as his step from her side flooded her veins with relief, leaving Powell’s office with nothing to show for her efforts was the last concession Lily was prepared to make.
“I’d rather talk more about you,” she said as she moved to him, swallowing hard as she placed her hands upon the sleeves of his suit. Lily felt him tense for all of a second under her fingers, but as soon as he whipped around to face, her, there was no mistaking the glint in his gaze.
“I’ll be damned,” he said. “If you’re not a decoy, then what the hell are you?”
“Just a girl,” Lily murmured. “A girl who makes her own choices. You seem like you know the score.”
Powell nodded at her assessment, and Lily danced her fingers down his arm and fought to stay in his eyes, wishing that they were Michael’s.
“Painted a very different picture in the kid’s office,” Powell said. “What was that all about?”
“I needed to get the position, didn’t I?” she purred. Powell chuckled, his touch light on her hand when he suddenly swung her around pressed her body to the edge of his desk. He started to lift her skirt, his touch dark and unwanted against her thighs, and Lily had to wonder how far she could take this, if she could take this, when the buzz from his intercom hit her ears like a celestial chord. Powell fingered her flesh for another long second when he abandoned her with a groan and pressed the phone to his ear.
“Yes?” he asked. Lily watched his brow furrow in frustration, his eyes sill on her when his focus shifted to the call.
“Tell them that the software is stable,” he said. ‘Well I don’t what else to---?”
Powell’s eyes rolled to the top of his head, and he barked that he’d make his way down to the fifth floor as he slammed the receiver into the cradle. Scanning Lily’s waiting form; he reached behind her back and pinched her ass through the folds of her skirt.
“This can’t wait,” he said.
“Sorry to hear that,” Lily said. “But I can.”
He laughed heartily as pointed towards a well-stocked bar.
“I take my whiskey neat,” he said. “Have a glass ready for me when I get back.”
Biting down on her tongue until he was gone, Lily wondered just how much time she had at her disposal. Maybe minutes; nowhere close to an hour. And even though she longed to rip the place apart and come up with any kind of goods, it had to look like she simply grew bored with waiting, like something she could brush off with a flirty grin when she saw Powell in the halls again. Her eyes searched every open space, and she stepped behind his desk, Lily spied a black stick lined in red just sticking out of his desktop’s tower. Flash drive. Had he already saved whatever files the device contained, or had he been in the process of transferring information to a safer location when she appeared at his door? Not knowing if she had the time to ever know one way or the other, Lily snatched the stick and pressed it in her palm. Stepping slowly from the door, she looked both ways down the hallway like a nervous child crossing a busy street. Seeing no trace of Lucas Powell, she raced to her desk, snatched her purse, and took off.
Chapter 7
Where the hell have you been?
Lily didn’t dare to return to the office. Not when she might face Powell’s accusations. Of course she deserved them; never in her wildest dreams had she ever envisioned herself a common thief. But if whatever he had hidden might prove useful, better to bring it to Michael’s attention first and let him do with what he would.
And she told him as much as she could in a cryptic tone when he called her cell and demanded to know her whereabouts.
Michael, we need to meet.
You need to get here---
No. Anywhere else. I have… I have something to show you.
He didn’t respond, and Lily pictured him fuming as his eyes bulged from his head, his clenched fist ready to slam into his desk. Had Powell already clued him in? The mustachioed man seemed the sort to stick to anyone he could with a boast and a brag. Did Michael suddenly think less of her, or was he terrified as images of the worst fate, of history repeating itself, filled his brain?
Come to my place. Nora has the details.
With that, Lily let the call die, and she cabbed it back to her meager brownstone, her small apartment sitting on the third floor. Once she was hidden behind her closed door, she kicked off her shoes and sat at her tiny kitchen table with her phone in one hand and the flash drive in the other. Seconds stretched into minutes, and suddenly it was well past an hour. Should she try to make contact again? See where he was at? What if he was never coming, if he was done with her? But Powell would find a prized possession missing right after his eyes took note of the whiskey that she never poured. Feeling as if she wasn’t safe in her own home let alone her skin, Lily started to push her feet back into her shoes, thinking only of running and taking her chances in a cheap motel until she found a way to make Michael understand when she was startled by the sound of a firm knock against her door.
Walking forward on wobbly legs, Lily slowly stretched to the tips of her toes and peered through the peephole, picturing some kind of shadowy man or worse yet Powell having come for her and the drive.
“Oh my God!”
Lily flung the door open and came face-to-face with Michael. His jaw was set like steel, his body a concrete pillar as she wrapped her arms around his stiff frame and buried her face in his neck.
“You came,” she murmured. “Thank you for---”
“Inside, Miss Vasquez.”
Michael’s push was sure and strong but in no way cruel as he pressed her back into the apartment and firmly closed the door behind them. Looking up, she saw Michael’s cheeks already crimson and his nostrils flaring as he folded his arms across his chest and glared down at her.
“What exactly are you playing at?” he asked.
Powell had to have gotten to him.
“It’s not what you think,” Lily started. “I only went to see him because---”
“So Powell wasn’t just blowing smoke up my ass,” Michael said. “Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”
“No,” Lily swore. “I---”
“Because Powell and his boys had one hell of a laugh at my expense,” Michael said. “That is not why I brought you on.”
“I’m sorry if---”
“And then you weren’t there. Nowhere to be found. Can’t say I remember Walters teaching how to play both sides against the middle.”
“No,” Lily managed, trying to turn the mood light. “Not on the syllabus, Michael.” Her fingers were nearly at his neck when he batted her back and hissed.
“Don’t be cute,” he spat. “Give me one good reason why I would trust you now, you little bitch?”
Lily shuddered at the sound of his words, and she fought the tears brimming in her eyes when she reached to the table and held the flash drive before his eyes.
“Because I went to Powell’s office to get this,” Lily said. “To steal it, okay. I thought it might be of some help to you, Mr. Bingham.”
Michael’s jaw suddenly went slack, and his hand trembled as he touched the stick before meeting her eyes.
“But you… what if he hadn’t been called away?” Michael asked. “Do you know what he could have done to you?”
“Yes,” Lily confessed. “And I… I guess I would have let him. I just wanted to help you.”
Unable to stop her tears from flowing, she handed Michael the flash drive and started to turn away from him. Feeling filthy at the thought of what Powell’s intentions and even worse for hurting Michael, she wanted nothing more than to hide her head under her pillows when he suddenly grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him.
“But
I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said.
Michael’s own eyes brimmed, and Lily started to sink into his chest when he gathered her in a fierce embrace and held her close. Her sobs hit his sleeves, and she relaxed some at the feel of his hands trying to soothe the tension from her back as his gentle whisper poured into her ear.
“You don’t have to take chances, Lily,” he whispered. “Not for me.”
Slowly lifting her head, Lily kissed him lightly, pulling back to stroke his cheek as she huddled closer to his body.
“I couldn’t help it,” she said. “I wanted to take your pain away.”
“There are other ways, Lily.”
Keeping her close, he hoisted her off the ground gently carried her to the couch. A few rays of moonlight were just starting to pass through the window, and he accepted her kiss again as he undid the buttons of her blouse and laid his hand just below her quivering breasts.
“I… I love… I love that you did this for me,” he said. “But I can’t stand the thought of---”
“Then don’t think about it anymore, Michael.”
Curling closer to kiss him, she savored the feel of his mouth mingling with hers, and his hands trickled down her back as he rested her against the arm on the couch and lightly stroked her hair.
“We still need to talk about---”
“But not yet,” Lily begged. “Please. I… I’ve been missing you all day.”
Sighing, Michael slipped back into her kiss, his tongue hot and sweet around hers as he stroked her sides and started to unfurl her breasts. As soon as the lace left her chest, Lily held his hand to her soft mounds and nodded for him to make her his again when a buzz that could never rival the thrum of his body poured from his pocket and suddenly demanded his full attention.
“It’s… it’s okay,” Lily said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael kissed her quickly before turning his attention to the call. Lily tried to calm the want churning around her soul, telling herself that it would only take a few seconds. Then she would have him again, and assure him that she was only his---
“Are you… are you sure, Nora?”
The worry lines crossing his brow filled her with fear, and Lily lifted up to wrap her arm around his shoulders when he turned away and spoke quickly into the phone.
“Stall him,” Michael said. “I don’t know how… find a way.”
Ending the call, Michael faced her again and took hold of her arms.
“Lily, I... we need to…”
His voice caught in his throat, and Lily grabbed his face.
“Don’t sound so scared,” she is. “Does… does Powell I know I took the flash drive?”
As soon she saw Michael nod, Lily tried to push him closer.
“If he’s scared, it’s because I… because we have the goods on him,” she said. “We can take him down together and---”
“Lily.”
Michael picked her up off the couch, and she cocked her head in confusion as he buttoned her blouse and grabbed her arm.
“We need to---”
“Wait!” Lily insisted as he dragged her towards the door. “What are you--?”
“Don’t fight me on this!” he cried.
“Like hell I won’t,” she challenged. “Tell me what’s going on right now or---”
He stopped her speech with a quick kiss and planted his anxious hands on her quaking shoulders.
“Not now, Lily,” he pleaded. “Not yet. You… you need to come with me. If you want to live.”
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