“Whoa there, G.I. Grace. How about I just hold him down while you cut his balls off.”
Her eyes grow big again. “Ohhh … I like it. Can we do that after we waterboard him? Twice?”
Movement on the monitors draw my attention and she follows my gaze, shudders and slides back into my arms. The breach team is on the move, although I’m still not worried. They probably won’t go far, maybe half way.
“Why do you have so many cameras?” she asks. “Did you anticipate something like this happening or are you just paranoid?”
I kiss her forehead. “Actually, one of the companies I invest heavily in is a tech company that specializes in security systems. New cameras cover wide areas and are so disguised even I couldn’t see them. I actually put them in more out of curiosity than anything. I’m not here often, so it was interesting to pull up an iPad and see the wildlife doing their thing. And yes, of course I’m paranoid. Have to be in my line of work.”
She nods. “It’s weird how I feel when I look at the monitors. One part of me feels safer being able to see what is happening outside. The other part hates it. It’s like watching a tornado coming at you when you have nowhere to run.”
“Good analogy.”
After the commercial, reporters begin to interview other people and I feel Grace sink back into sadness. Her parents. Sister. Her friend, Natalie. Two little blond boys yell, “We love you Auntie Grace.”
The man I recognize as Grace’s grandfather appears on camera, his wrinkled face grim. I continue to watch the monitor and listen as he says, “Grace, you know how much we love you. What I want you to remember is that your home is here. Your safe home.” I focus in on the man. He’s staring so intently into the camera. He’s giving her a message. “You can come home anytime and we’ll be ready for you. Do you understand me? Come home safe and we’ll protect you.”
The reporter takes over. “Protect her from what?”
Grace’s grandfather ignores the question. “Come home.” He gives the camera one last stare, then turns and walks away.
Safe home.
Come home safe.
“Grace, is he talking about the hidey hole?”
She sniffs, wipes her nose and looks up at me. “He was giving me a message, wasn’t he? Telling me to go there if I can.”
I nod. “I think so.”
She leans back into me. “Too bad Tennessee is a million miles from here.”
I peer at the monitors again. Breach team is still on the move. “Tell me more about this hidey hole.”
She smiles at the memory. “My papaw owns a big portion of a mountain back home. It’s so far back and so hard to get to you just about have to be a goat to get there.” I smile as her speech takes on a thicker accent. “At the base of the mountain is a river. There’s a waterfall on it too, but we always used to play in the river when I was little. There’s this old fishing shack. I mean really old. It sits a ways back from the river, against the beginning of where the mountain starts. The thing is, it looks like a fishing shack from the outside, but there’s a hidden door in the back, kind of like your hidden door, that goes back into a cave-like place Papaw had dug out and framed in. He’s got a generator back there. Lots of canned food. Sleeping bags. Water.”
“How many people know about this place?”
She seems to think about it. “Just family. Papaw swore us to secrecy. Said we couldn’t hide from the zombies if there was a line of people knocking on the door.” She looks up at me. “He’s kidding about the zombies. I think.”
I kiss her forehead. “Prepping is smart. You never know what can happen. He’s smart. Building it into a mountain. Helps maintain temperature. Near a water source. Hard to find and get to. Think you could find it if we needed to?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Looking back at the monitors, she turns back to the television but it’s mostly recap shit for the rest of the hour. Pictures of my parent’s estate. Glimpses of dad’s car pulling in and out of the gate. I’m reminded how lucky I am. How lucky my parents are. They have security and privacy. I have enough money and resources to go and stay on the run. Most people wouldn’t have this. Wouldn’t have security cameras covering nearly every inch of their land. Or bullet-proof glass. Guns in every room.
Damn lucky.
As the segment ends, Grace wiggles her way around until she’s straddling me. “Are they close?”
My eyes don’t leave the monitor as I answer. “Yes.”
She shivers and I curl my arms around her. “Are they heat seeking us?” she whispers against my ear.
“Not that I can tell.”
She takes the lobe of my ear into her mouth and sucks. “Are they listening?” she asks.
I turn my head to give her better access. “I don’t see a device. They may when they get closer.”
Her teeth graze my jawline. “How long till it gets dark?”
“Forty-six minutes.”
She smiles against my mouth. “Perfect.” She scoots backwards off my lap and moves to the floor between my legs. She reaches for the waistband of my sweats and I meet her eyes. “One more time,” she says. “Please.”
“Wicked temptress,” I say before lifting my hips to help her pull them down.
Eyes on the monitor, I hiss as her mouth closes around me. Hot and wet. Sliding down my sex raw cock. I close my eyes and open them again. Breach team is three-quarters up. The perimeter team at the bottom begins to move.
She takes me into her throat, gags a little then swallows me some more. Good. So good. Her fist tight around the base, her tongue sliding up and down the length. The perimeter team breaks up into two.
I could come now. Come so hard into her mouth. Watch her swallow, lick her lips. Watch her smile.
Forty-one minutes.
I push back from the edge, saving the release, willing myself to pull back. Mmm … those lips, sucking around the head. A little slice of pain that comes when she slides her teeth down my shaft.
She stands and pushes her pants down her hips, but only steps out of one leg. I watch her face come closer to me as she straddles me, her mouth finding mine.
Pressing her thighs apart, I watch her head fall back as my fingers find her center. I watch the breach team leader signal ‘hold’ over her shoulder.
She’s wet. Of course, she’s wet. She’s always wet for me. And so warm. So responsive. She presses harder onto my fingers when my thumb finds her clit. Her cries are so sweet as she comes.
“Fuck me, Grace,” I say to her after she finishes shuddering through her release.
Her eyes. Those beautiful eyes dilate as she leans forward and takes my lips. Open. Wet. Her tongue searches for mine as her fingers of her good hand run through my hair.
I grasp my cock, straighten it, waiting for her. She moans into my mouth as she connects herself to me. Sliding. Gliding. Impaling until I can reach inside her no further.
So good. So perfect. An exact match for me. She begins to move. Hot. Tight. Movement. I grip her hips around the bones and squeeze, watch her eyes roll back as she begins to rock faster.
I look away and see one of the breach team members kneel and open his backpack. He pulls out a laptop. He’s the one who will bypass my security system. He will be one of the first I kill.
Faster she moves, her breath panting against my face. My sweet Grace giving and taking with each grind of her hips. “Oh,” she whispers as she gets closer. “Please.” I squeeze her hips harder and she moans.
I focus back on her. “Look at me,” I tell her.
She doesn’t stop moving, but she opens her eyes.
“I love you.” I thrust my hips up and she cries out, closing her eyes. “Look at me,” I demand and they’re back. I thrust up again. And again. And again. Pulling her down hard as I do.
She shatters.
Beautifully, gloriously shatters right in front of me.
I don’t stop. I don’t give her a reprieve. I don’t stop taking from her body.
I can’t let go.
Our mouths collide as I pull her so tight into my arms. Lips. Tongues. Love.
Long minutes pass before I lift my head. Perimeter team is now in place.
I press my forehead to hers. “It’s time to go.”
She kisses me again. Longingly. Urgently. Then softly.
“You are my heart,” she says against my lips. “No matter what, I wouldn’t give a moment of this up.”
She kisses me again. Then I help her stand. Help her put her pants back on.
Seven-forty-two.
I hold up the remote to turn off the TV, then stand and take her hand leading her into the bedroom. She goes into the bathroom while I pull down the blankets.
She’s back and smiles at me while she crosses the room and I toss the iPad on my pillow.
She curls up next to me on the bed, her head on my shoulder as we wait.
And wait.
Four hours later, the power goes out.
Ten minutes pass.
Another five.
Another two.
Squeeeak.
Chapter 8
Jogging down the steps of the jet that has been my home the past fifteen hours, I watch the helicopter land then run in its direction. My assistant hops off and I duck the blades, climbing on board. He’s right behind me, closing the doors and we’re up.
“Start at the beginning,” I tell him the moment I get the headset on.
“Yes, sir. The situation is deteriorating rapidly. I’m glad you could get back this soon.”
Soon.
Fuck.
I’ve been gone almost five weeks on an assignment that should have been two. Fucking sheikh. Asshole has more money than God and the tyrant dicks with people’s lives to prove what a big man he is. And he insists that he will only work with me.
“No more work for Rashid,” I tell Deakins. “I don’t care how much he offers, I will not be his babysitter anymore.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go on. Status.”
“How much were you able to understand earlier?”
“Not much.” Just the panic in Deakins’ voice and Deakins doesn’t panic easily. The connection sucked and he refused to send anything electronic. “Pretend I know nothing. Start at the beginning.”
“Bond came up five days ago on a man said to be a national security threat. Two million on his head. I passed. This man is military and I know how you feel about that. Andrews overrode my decision. Targeted the man.” Deakins pauses and I look at him. “It didn’t end well. Target escaped. House bombed. Sir, this man is high profile.”
Deakins hands me a copy of the bond sheet and the blood stops in my veins. Link Duffy. My fucking company is fucking targeting Link Duffy?
With a fucking bomb?
No fucking way.
The man saved my life—twice—when we served together in the Berets. Dedicated. Passionate. National threat my ass.
“He escaped?” I ask Deakins. “Is that confirmed?”
“Yes, sir. We were able to gain unauthorized access to the property yesterday. No human remains were discovered. Our findings were confirmed by the local fire chief today. They are sending in an additional investigator due to the high profile nature of the case. He won’t find anything different. Additionally, there was a series of stolen vehicles within the appropriate time-frames. Then we lost him.”
Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I try to clear my head. “What’s the current status?”
Deakins meets my gaze. “We were able to locate a property in Colorado that could possibly belong to Duffy. Andrews ordered a team to go in. I’ve been stalling it. Assembly issues, mechanical problems, etc. Sir, Andrews took over the raid six hours ago. He’s locked himself in your office and is commanding from that viewpoint.”
My fucking office. “I told you Andrews needed to be eliminated.”
“Yes sir. Your instincts were correct. We didn’t anticipate your being gone this long.”
No. Fucking sheikh.
I look out the window, trying to place our location in the darkness. “What’s our ETA?” I ask the pilot.
“Four minutes, sir.”
“Faster.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turn back to Deakins. “Okay, tell me everything you know of the Colorado property and the team Andrews assembled.”
As Rogers fills me in, my hands fist and unfist on my thighs. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I grew this company from nothing. I hired my men selectively and very carefully. I was thrilled to add Andrews. His ability with a computer made him an important asset. He’s smart. Vicious. He grew quickly in the ranks.
And I thought I had him on a leash.
I was wrong.
“Does Andrews know I’m back?”
“Not that I’m aware of, sir. He could have tapped though.”
I nod. Yes. He could have tapped.
“One minute, sir,” the pilot says in my ear and I look out the window again. At the lights glowing inside the building I’d built. At the helipad with the Black Shield logo. My logo.
Before the chopper is on the ground, I’m out with Deakins right behind me. I flash my badge and watch the security screen to the right of the door scan it, then place my thumb for another scan.
Too pissed to wait for the elevator, I haul ass up the stairs. “Who else knows about this?” I ask him.
“No one, sir. I thought you would prefer discretion.”
Discretion would be right.
On the third floor, my floor, I scan my badge and thumbprint, wondering if the door will open at my command. Scenario 1: it does, which means Andrews is working on a misadvised notion that he’s doing the right thing. Scenario 2: he’s sabotaging me.
The door opens, but the hair on my arms doesn’t stand down. This feels wrong and it pisses me off not knowing what or why.
Inside my office, I find Andrews behind my desk sitting a remote down on the wood. He stands the moment he sees me. “Tate, I didn’t realize you were back.”
“Clearly.” I look at the black monitors. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He lifts his chin. “Observing a take. Making you a much richer man.”
Reaching for the remote, I punch a button and the monitors come back to life. Four panels appear on one monitor. Two panels on the second monitor and another four panels on the third. The green of night vision glasses my men are wearing—my men—give the room an eerie glow. Six of the men are outside in a forest. Four are inside the house, standard formation going down a hall.
Fuck.
And this asshole in front of me just killed them.
“Stop it. Call it off now. Who’s lead?”
Andrews bristles, his lips thinning into a tight line. “Certainly not. As you can see, it’s going down right now.”
I lunge at him across my desk, grabbing him by the shirt front. “Call it off now.”
His eyes narrow at me and he tries to pull away. “You’d give up millions?”
I jump the desk, pushing him out of the way. I grab for the headset to order my men to stand down.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop…
Shit. The fighting has started.
I watch one of my men fall, his camera on the floor, turned sideways, not moving. From that viewpoint, I see a woman. Eyes wide. Terror on her face. She’s on the floor, an arm in a sling, holding a pistol. She’s supporting her shooting arm with her knee.
Pop. Pop. Pop…
Another camera goes down. It’s all happened in a matter of seconds.
Duff. I see him now. Armed to the teeth behind a barrier, taking them down as they enter the room. Another camera falls.
“Stand down! Stand down!” I yell into the headset.
Pop. Pop. Pop…
Too late. My last man is down.
Fuck!
Watching the monitors, I see team two begin to move. “Stand down! Tate Rodgers commanding you to stand down!” The men stop and take a knee. Waiting for further instruction.
“You mother fucker,” Andrews screams at me. “You’re letting him get away!”
From one of the down cameras, I watch Duff scramble from his position. He grabs the woman around the waist and hauls her up, running his hands down her arms. She leans against the wall behind her and he turns and walks closer before kneeling by one of the downed men, cursing.
“Duff!”
I scream the word into the headset, hoping there is some way my friend can hear me through the man’s earpiece.
“Duff!”
Grab the earpiece, Duff! Listen in! Do it! I’m staring at him so intently on the screen, willing him to do as I wish even as I know he has no reason to. This isn’t the movies. In my line of work, the moment a man goes down, his tech is usually cut so the enemy can’t listen in. Duff won’t spend the time checking to see if this is different. Why would he?
Finding nothing on the man, he takes his ammo and pistol. He does the same to the other three men, watching the screen of what looks like an iPad. He narrows his eyes and I know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering why the other men aren’t coming in. He’s wondering what is coming instead.
He waits.
Watches.
I continue to scream his name, willing him to hear me.
He stands. Fuck. He doesn’t. He turns to the woman and says something I can’t hear. She pushes away from the wall, steps into a room and hits something just inside the door.
That portion of the screen goes black.
Duff is crushing the cameras with his heel. One camera goes out. Then another.
The woman steps away from the room and the door slides closed. It’s a safe room, but why is she on this side of it?
A third camera goes out, then Duff crouches, looks directly into the camera and flips a bird. He stands and his boot comes down as I see the woman behind him walk into another room. Then there’s nothing to see as that camera goes black.
Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance Page 35
