Whipping around he searched her for a second. “And you.”
“There are those of us who have nothing to exploit,” she said. “You have my money. I have no family anyone could threaten, even Benjamin’s dead… The only way anyone could get to me is through…”
“Through?” he asked.
Resigned to the truth that she knew and he couldn’t see, she confessed. “You. You’re the only thing I care enough about to fight for.”
Rushing to her, he sat at her side and grabbed both her hands onto his knees. “But we control it, baby. We have it. Right there. No one can hurt us with it as long as we have control of it… We could control the world, baby. Everything.”
When his hand moved toward her face, she ducked back. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, Strike. We’re not going to control it; we’re going to destroy it.”
“Aren’t you curious?” he asked, peering into her. “Think of what you could learn. Information, Cupcake… it really is power.”
Frustration made her exhale. “I don’t want to learn,” she said. “I don’t want to know anything.” Balling her hands on her knees, she hit them and stood up. “Goddamnit, what is it with men?”
Rising in front of her, he explored her features. “Gallagher wanted to use it.”
She lifted a finger of warning because Benjamin never wanted power like Strike was talking about taking. Benjamin had a professional curiosity, not a vendetta.
“He wanted to try it, he wanted to let it loose, to let it learn and refine itself.”
“But you wouldn’t let him,” he muttered.
Guilt chilled her, forcing her to wrap her arms around herself. She’d tested Benjamin once and he’d passed. The jury was still out on Strike, but she’d get her answer when he decided where his priorities lay, with her or with this opportunity.
“I asked him to destroy it, but I knew he hadn’t,” she said. “There was one copy left…” Her eyes drifted to the bed. “When I confronted him about it, we fought… He came up with a compromise, he told me we should hide it, that no one would ever know.”
“So, you hid it here?” he asked.
Making eye contact with him, her guilt tightened her throat. “I came back and hid it here alone… The storage device that he and I hid together… that he thought the Point was on… it was worthless. It was full of landscape images.”
As far as she knew, Benjamin had never learned of her deception. Hiding the Point might have been a compromise, but she hadn’t wanted him to ever be tempted to go back on his word.
He’d passed his test by agreeing not to pursue his plan and then sticking to that agreement. But all that meant was that he’d never learned about her switching one powerful storage device for a useless one.
“You tricked him?” Strike asked and his mouth slanted. “You’re a grifter.”
Strike’s satisfaction came closer when he leaned in to try to kiss her. Rora leaned away, pressing a hand onto his chest. “I wanted to help him,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking about myself. I was thinking about him and about taking away the temptation. I had no interest in it. I knew how dangerous it could be. I could trust myself not to use it; I don’t have the skills to refine the code anyway…”
“I do,” he said, looming over her and bowing to rub his face in her hair. “You are a clever girl.”
“Strike,” she said, easing him back. “You do understand, don’t you? I love you so much, so much more than I ever loved Benjamin… I need you to get rid of it for me, wipe it, incinerate it, do whatever you have to, just… free the world from the threat… please.”
“Cupcake…”
It was difficult to hear him in pain and he obviously was. “I’m trusting you. You love me, Strike. I know you love me… Prove to yourself that you can resist this temptation, pass this test for both our sakes…”
He growled. “Fine,” he said. Her head fell onto his chest between her flat hands. “But I can’t do it here, I have a piece of tech at the loft, it will destroy every trace.”
“Thank you, Flame,” she whispered. “Oh, thank you, baby.”
Looping her arms around his neck, she leaped up to wrap her legs around his hips. He dropped forward, catching his hand on the back of the couch to lower her into the seat. Their kiss grew in heat and she helped to strip both of them.
Just when she was braced for him to slide into her, Strike took her into his arms and picked her up. “I want to screw on it,” he said and carried her over to the bed.
“The bed or the Point?” she asked, happy to accept him on top of her when he laid her down.
“Both,” he said and pushed into her. Sliding her fingertips over his shoulders, Rora felt him shiver and the surprise of that reaction made her blink at him, but he growled at her. “All this frilly bullshit.”
She couldn’t imagine a setup that was less Strike. Rearing up, he snagged the silk trim from one of the bedposts and ripped it down.
“Strike!”
“Better,” he said and seized her wrist.
“What are you doing?” Wrapping the fabric around her wrist, he looped it around the headboard and then captured the other wrist to tie her hands together. “Strike,” she said, laughing. Rising to his knees between her legs, he looked down at her naked form and she tugged at her hands. “I can’t move.”
Bowing over her, he slid his tongue between her lips and began to caress her body. His rough hands were heavy; he’d never been delicate with her and she loved it when his need was this potent. Tugging her nipple to a point, he lowered to breathe it into his mouth and then traced his lips down the middle of her stomach.
“Strike,” she whispered his name when he tasted her center. “Oh, God.”
“Mm,” he moaned and circled her clit with his tongue. “Delicious.”
Pulling at her hands, she wanted to be free so she could touch him. “Oh, Strike,” she said his name and he rose again, pulling the silk from the other bedpost and this time he wrapped it around her head, gagging her.
Resting his mouth over hers with the silk between their lips, he breathed into her whimpering mouth. “What have I told you about using my name?”
Bound to the headboard and gagged, all Rora could do was move her hips when he pushed her thighs apart and slid into her again. With their eyes searching each other, she sank into the rhythm of advance and retreat.
He was choosing her, making love to her on the promise that they were going to do what was necessary together. Tricking Benjamin had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Instinct had made her do it, she’d made a split-second decision, and he’d died never knowing that the Point wasn’t even in the place he thought it was.
Rising on the crest of her climax, Rora was on the descent when Strike’s hit him hard. For a second, he stayed there, suspended above her, and she tried to smile behind the gag. Rora wanted to touch him, wanted to ask him what was in his mind. But she couldn’t because he’d trussed her up.
Strike eased back, returning to his position on his knees between her thighs. She was still admiring him, filled with her love for him, when his hand rose and she noticed what was between his first two fingers. The Point.
“You know, I never thought… I never thought this day would come,” he said. “And the funny thing is, I actually meant what I said in the loft. I would never have asked you about it again.”
Bending over her, he kissed her forehead and then slid off the bed. Trying her best to call out behind the gag, Rora pulled and kicked, but he went over to the couch and got dressed.
He got her jacket and took something from the pocket. Bringing it over, he kept his distance from her flailing legs when he slipped the cool metal handle between her bound hands.
“Be careful, it’s open,” he said like he was handing her hot coffee on any random day of the week.
Screaming, Rora clung to the switchblade handle he’d just put into her hands, though she had no idea how she’d cut herself out of her b
indings from the position she was in.
Picking up his jacket and the broken tech from the floor, he took a second to examine the mangled pieces. “This doesn’t have the capacity to hold something like the Point.” So that was why he’d destroyed it rather than being more covert about his betrayal. “I’m sorry, baby. I am. But I’ve said it from the start…” He went to the door and opened it an inch. Rora was screaming as loud as she could, but the sound was so muffled, it didn’t matter. Even though the fabric was cutting into her wrists, she didn’t stop fighting. “You’re so naïve… Chin up, Cupcake.”
Turning around, he went out and closed the door. Kicking, screaming, desperate, and tired, Rora wasn’t sure what was worse, the physical pain of the fabric cutting her wrists or the weight in her chest.
He’d betrayed her. Dumped her. Failed the test. But he was right, he had warned her, she should’ve listened, should’ve known better.
The devil was not immune from temptation.
twenty-six
At least the car was still there when Rora went down the stairs.
Cutting herself free from the fabric wasn’t difficult when she stopped blubbering and concentrated. She’d ripped the gag from her mouth, put her clothes on and run down to the parking lot.
But did it matter? Even if he’d been here, she wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He was bigger than her. Stronger. More ruthless. Willing to go to any length to get what he wanted.
Rora was on her way to get into the car and then slowed. Did she trust a car he’d stolen? There was still money in the inside pocket of her jacket. Hesitating, she thought about what had happened upstairs.
It would be easy for Strike to make sure she was caught by cops and this time, he’d want her to stay in jail, there would be no Torres and no rescue.
Turning her back on the car, she walked away, heading down the private access road that led away from the resort. It was about two miles, maybe more to the highway, she could thumb a ride at least to the next town, and she could get a bus. Yeah, no more ad hoc vehicles, she was back on the straight and narrow.
With her family history, it was ridiculous of her to think she could even dip her toe into the world of criminality. While she might not have coveted it at first, she hadn’t resisted it. Benjamin’s work started her on this path, but she hadn’t needed to so fully embrace being bad after she met Strike.
Even the smell of pine and fresh air couldn’t make her feel any sense of peace. In fact, she was pleased to get away from it when the first driver stopped and gave her a ride to the closest town.
Rora went to the bus station.
She stood looking at the departures board for the longest time, except she had nowhere to go. No one needed her. There was nowhere she needed to be. It wouldn’t be possible for her to track down Strike on her own. Not that it mattered; he’d probably seek her out on his own when he realized what she’d done to him.
Having given up the rental on her apartment and put her possessions into storage while she was looking for Benjamin, she didn’t have a home. She still had some clothes at Buddy’s, but she might not be welcome there anymore.
Rora couldn’t decide. Did she risk going back to Buddy’s where she could get her throat slit, or did she crash at Benjamin’s cleared-out apartment?
“Waiting for someone?”
Glancing over her right shoulder she saw a tall man at her side, as interested in the board above them as she had been. “Trying to decide.”
“Death in the family or break up with the boyfriend?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s usually when people decide to do spontaneous things like pick random destinations to travel to,” he said, turning to look down at her. “We feel our own mortality and want to cross things from the bucket list, or we’re looking for a fresh start to mend a broken heart. So, death in the family or break up with the boyfriend?”
Breathing out, Rora turned her attention back to the board. “Both,” she said and decided that since the bus that would take her back to Buddy’s was first and Benjamin’s apartment would always be sitting there empty, she’d try her luck at Buddy’s first.
Walking forward, she intended to go to the ticket desk, but the guy who’d been talking to her grabbed her arm and turned her around. She was going to call out, maybe scream in his face; messing with her today would be a big mistake, she’d taken all the bullshit she could.
But he didn’t say anything or try to move her. There was a curiosity and a knowing in the way he looked at her. Like maybe there was something he wanted to say, or that he expected her to say.
The depth of his interest felt profound. She shivered, getting that creepy feeling like she’d had in the convenience store parking lot, and she had been right then. Rora got her wits back and pulled her arm away from him.
“Excuse me,” she said and walked away.
Trying to keep her head down, she scanned the vast space and suddenly everyone felt like a potential threat. Strike knew snipers, he knew thugs, he’d introduced her to a cult member. Rora was known and now that Strike had given into temptation, he might consider her expendable.
With a new respect for the danger that she might be in, Rora bought her ticket and kept herself in corners until the bus door opened to let passengers on. Strike had once accused her of being paranoid, she could never have known he’d become the greatest threat to her life.
If Buddy wasn’t home, she’d go inside, pack her shit and bolt. Rora was deciding that she liked the idea of going back to Benjamin’s less and less. She couldn’t go anywhere that she’d easily be found. She had to lay low for a while. But without money, or real skills, that might be difficult.
She couldn’t go to her storage unit with ID because that would put her on too many people’s radars and, yeah, she didn’t have her ID anymore. But she could always buy bolt cutters and break-in the old-fashioned way.
The bus journey had given her the chance to face a lot of truths; one being that ending up in jail might be her destiny. Kyan was locked up, and he was the only family member she had left. Maybe they weren’t meant to have a home in a quiet suburban street. Maybe home for the Maguires was the cemetery or maximum security.
Buddy’s was the closest thing she’d had to a home since Benjamin was taken, so it was bittersweet when she vaulted up the stairs to start along the corridor to the apartment door knowing that this would be the last time she’d ever be there.
The door was never locked. Buddy was scary enough that people knew not to mess with him, and he didn’t have much worth stealing anyway, so she didn’t hesitate to go inside.
But as soon as she crossed the threshold, she stopped dead, coming up short when she saw someone was in her armchair on the other side of the room.
Strike.
Shit. She may just have walked into her tomb.
He wasn’t glaring and angry, he was focused on Opal, who he had upside down on the coffee table in front of him. His fingertips were resting on a rectangle in a corner, but he quickly lifted them to snap the back of Opal’s case into place.
As he began to secure the screws, he glanced up and noticed her, that was the moment she spotted the open silver box on the table beside Opal, the one the NSA had given her. Next to that was the Point USB he’d taken from her at the resort.
Picking up the USB, he held it between his palms and sat back. “You going to swear at me?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you’d be long gone.”
His arrogance was on rare form, he was proud to the point of smug. “Well, I thought… hoped… that maybe you’d have had a change of heart,” he said. “This is happening, whether you support it or not.”
Her chin rose, and she eyed the long metal box she’d gotten from Torres all those weeks ago. “What is that? You never told me.”
“Newest hardware install for Opal,” he said, turning the laptop over. “Gotta love DARPA’s paranoia, the box is fireproof, th
ank fuck. I had it in Wonderland, thought I’d need it up there since I planned to work there for a while, but I had to check out the tech for bugs before I could install it. You can’t trust the NSA, you know? So I hadn’t added the hardware to Opal before the fire.”
“That’s why you went back to Wonderland?” she asked. “You were getting your toy.”
“Yep,” he said and stood up.
She took a step back, coming up hard against the door.
Strike dropped the Point onto the table and came toward her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Rora. There’s nothing in it for me… Keeping you alive on the other hand…”
“What does that mean?” she asked. “You have what you want. You knew it would come down to a choice between me and it… You chose it. Congratulations. I hope you’ll be very happy together.”
Breathing in and holding her mouth closed, she braced when he came up in front of her and picked up her hand. Her throat was shaking, her lips dry, and the terror that consumed her was like nothing she’d ever felt with him before, or with anyone.
She didn’t just fear death or physical pain with him, this man had made her fall in love with him. He had her in every way a person could have another, and he knew her vulnerabilities.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said, holding her hand, palm up, between them. Easing back the cuff of her jacket, he touched a fingertip to the bruising left by the fabric he’d tied around her wrists. Lifting her hand higher, he touched his lips to one of the abrasions. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger and held her hand under his mouth. “Stay with me… We’ll do it together.”
“No.”
“Come on,” he said. Touching his fingertip under her chin, he pushed it higher. “You love being bad with me, Cupcake.”
Strike bent lower, touching his lips to hers. Rora didn’t hesitate to lunge forward and sink her teeth into his lip, satisfied only when she tasted blood. He hissed and pulled back.
Hide & Seek Page 23
