ALTERED BY LEAD: UNDERCOVER SINNERS BOOK 2

by James, Tate

  My jaw drops open.

  "Ex-fucking-scuse me? You've let me sulk? Are you on fucking drugs right now, Hawke?" The outrage is real. Really real. "And you don't allow insubordination? Huh? Since when? Have you even met Arsen?"

  Hawke says nothing for a moment, just glares. Then he releases a heavy, vexed breath before taking two steps closer to me. I try to back away, but I'm pressed up against the side of Mace's Hummer. Goddamn it all to hell. Even though I’ve pulled my tank top down, my pants are torn, and I know Hawke can see my fancy new lingerie.

  "Let me be clearer," he says, his voice dropping in pitch to a scary growl. "I won't tolerate insubordination from you, pet." He comes closer still until his hands rest against the huge truck on either side of my head. He's not touching me, but he may as well be.

  Feeling way too much like a caged animal, I react by lashing out. "Oh no? Does that not fit into your little bet, Hawke?" I hiss the words at him and am momentarily satisfied to see his eyes widen. He really had no idea I knew. "How was that meant to work anyway? You make a bet to have me fall in love then do everything imaginable to make sure I don't." My lip curls with disgust. "You must just love throwing your money away, huh?"

  Hawke's brow furrows a fraction of an inch, then the strangest fucking thing happens.

  He.

  Smiles.

  I feel like I can count the number of times Hawke has smiled on one freaking hand, yet somehow this situation warrants it? Nuh-uh. Something is fucking fishy here.

  "That annoys you, doesn't it, pet?" His voice is a fucking purr. Like some kind of big cat getting a belly scratch. Fucking. Psychotic. Ass. "You're less angry about the bet, and more so that no one is actually trying to win it, aren't you? Does it bruise your pride? Sexy thing like you, so used to men dripping off her." His smile has the goddamn nerve to widen, and I'm just standing there. Tongue-tied. Utterly speechless.

  I can safely say this is not how I saw our confrontation going.

  "You want to know what I think, Natalia?" He's pure smug confidence and as badly as I want to throw his words back in his face, tell him to screw off because I couldn't give two shits less what he thinks of me … I can't. He's right. Damn him to hell, he's right.

  "What?" I take the bait, my voice weaker than I'd have liked.

  Hawke's gray eyes glitter with pure fucking evil and he drags his tongue over his lower lip. Slowly. So fucking slowly.

  I swallow back the lusty groan that wants to escape my throat, but still can't bring myself to break free. Every part of my logic screams to get the hell out of Hawke's web. Go inside and climb Mace like a tree, or ride Weston's cock on his cloud bed, or hell, even let Arsen stick his dick in me against a dirty, floral wallpapered wall somewhere. Anything would be a better use of all my pent up sexual frustration than doing what I’m doing.

  Absolutely fucking nothing.

  Yet.

  "I think if I touched you right now, you'd let me. You'd be soaking wet and desperate for my cock, even though I've all but ignored you for months."

  I hate him.

  I hate him because he's right.

  I hate him because he's not content to just leave it at that. He needs to prove his fucking point by running a hand down my body, under the waistband of my sopping lavender panties. His fingers enter me, rough and demanding, and I can't hold back the desperate moan any longer.

  "For the record, pet," Hawke growls into my ear, finger fucking me while he undoes his belt one-handed with quick efficiency. He frees his throbbing cock and makes quick work of what’s left of my pants. He shoves them and my panties down to my knees and exposes me to anyone who might be watching from inside the hotel. "The bet was never to make you fall in love. The bet," he continues as he lifts me up and drives into me, barely even flinching when my teeth sink into the bend of his neck to stifle my screams, "wasn't to make you fall, pet. It was to make you admit what you're already feeling."

  My eyes widen, and I suddenly realize where I am and what I'm doing, those animalistic instincts of mine fading away in a rush. I shove at Hawke again, but this time, I'm lacking the element of surprise and he doesn't move. He stops thrusting though, holding himself sheathed inside of me.

  "You're going to deny it?" he asks, his voice hardening again. You'd think, with that much steel in his voice that he'd lose a bit in his cock, but that doesn't happen. Hawke might be pissed off at me, but he's still very clearly down to fuck.

  "Love is not a luxury I can allow myself, sir," I spit back, trembling in his arms, wishing I were the old Natalia for just a split-second, so that I could screw this guy and enjoy it and not worry about anything else. But instead, I'm this new person who's starting to care about things, who thinks about consequences, who expects better. "And what have you ever done to make me fall in love with you? If you really think I'm head-over-heels already, then you've got a serious wake-up call coming. If you want my love, earn it. Now get off of me."

  Hawke grits his teeth, but he doesn't move. His hands are clenched on my cheeks so hard, I'm sure I'll have bruises. Not that it matters: I'm covered in bruises from all of our goddamn training sessions.

  When he doesn't move, I decide to reiterate. It's hard though, considering his, um, hardness is still buried deep inside of me. I want nothing more than to grind my hips forward, work Hawke to an orgasm, and see him fall apart as he comes. Instead, I swallow a lump in my throat and force myself to stand my ground.

  "I'm not the same woman who stumbled into that church and into you. If you want to win, try harder." I shove at him again, and he lets me go, dropping me to my feet. I stumble, putting my hand against the side of the car as Hawke yanks his shirt over his head with one hand and then turns away, jacking himself off with it.

  I stand there in complete and total shock, pulling my panties up and watching as Hawke thrusts into the fabric of his dark tee, and finishes, wadding the shirt up and storming down to the edge of the property where the trash cans wait. He stuffs the shirt inside, and then just starts walking down the road.

  Wherever he's going, I don't care. It's not my problem.

  I turn and head back up toward the front door, pausing as I hear a nice, long, slow clap from my left, turning to see Arsen leaning up against the last remaining sequoia tree on the property.

  "Bravo," he says, grinning from ear-to-ear like the goddamn psychopath he is. He flicks some blond hair back from his forehead and smirks at me. "That was quite the performance. Earn it? So you won't let Hawke fuck you because you're actually in love with him? But me, who happens to despise you and want you dead, I'm just fine?"

  I don't respond. Instead, I just stand there staring at his ice-blue eyes and all the sadness that craziness of his hides.

  "Why don't you come over here, and I'll fuck you against this tree, make you feel a little better." Arsen makes his way toward me, but when he gets close, I step back, and a frown settles over his beautiful mouth. Those blue eyes of his darken from a summer sky to a stormy sea beneath a quiet moon.

  "Arsen, I'm demanding better from everyone, including you."

  "Since when?" he snarls at me, taking another step closer and curling his inked fingers against the back of my neck. The threat in his stance is implied, but I'm not afraid. He won't hurt me. He might say he wants me dead; he doesn't. It's all a bunch of bullshit. And if the guys think they're making this bet to force me to admit something to myself, well, I'm flipping the coin on its head.

  It's them who needs to start admitting shit to themselves.

  "Starting now," I say, tone firm.

  Arsen starts to yank me forward, and I duck low, swinging my leg out and connecting with his shins. He doesn't go down—I'm not that good, not yet—but I do manage to dart away and up the stairs, putting distance between us before he loses his shit.

  I make my way inside, up the stairs, and slam the door to my room, locking it before I hear the gunshots outside.

  I wonder who's shooting—Hawke or Arsen—and what or whom they're
shooting at.

  Better just be a fucking tree.

  Chapter 11

  Arsen

  My lips curve into a scowl as I watch Mace help Natalia into a strap, so she can keep her rifle on her back during our walk. Normally, I'd be so excited at the prospect of killing something that I'd be in a seriously chipper fucking mood, but even taking our little Russian princess out deer hunting isn't going to put a smile on my face.

  "Arsen, I'm demanding better from everyone, including you."

  I grit my teeth. Portia never would've pulled this crap. She could be a total bitch sometimes, but we were always hot for each other. She understood my monster. And Natalia doesn't? I cross my arms over my chest, continuing to scowl as Mace gazes down at Natalia like she's the universe's personal gift to him.

  "Are you two done eye-fucking each other?" I snap, and both of them turn to give me a pair of matching looks dipped in skepticism.

  "Really, Arsen? Reverting back to high school insults because I turned you down last week? Get over yourself." Natalia tosses her freshly colored and cut hair, further pissing me off and making me feel just a tad ... murderous. I cock the rifle in my hands and then head outside, ignoring Mace's narrowed eyes.

  First deer I see is getting it right between the eyes. But aww, don't worry, we'll eat it, too. I'm a very good butcher.

  Hawke is waiting on the porch when I pause near the front steps, glancing over to see his gray eyes locked on mine.

  "Don't you do anything out there that we'd both regret," he says, and I grin, just to annoy the fuck out of him. "If you hurt Mace or Natalia ..."

  "Oh, come now, if former Vice President Dick Cheney can accidentally shoot his buddy in the face during a quail hunting trip, then surely I could blow Mace away and plead accidental fire?" Hawke pushes off the column he's leaning against and gets right up in my face. I enjoy stirring up his temper; I consider it a favor, since the guy's so uptight all the goddamn time. He should fucking thank me for the privilege.

  Hawke closes the distance between us so quickly that I have no choice but to drop the cigarette I was just about to light and move back a step. He keeps coming, and I realize I've got two choices: fight him off or let him grab me.

  I decide on the latter, just for fun, and grunt as he grabs me around the throat and slams me into one of the white porch columns. Those severe gray eyes of his bore into my face as I grin.

  "You listen to me, you little psycho, I've been more than accommodating when it comes to that fucked-up brain of yours, but I'm done with it. You will follow orders, or I will put you in the ground and piss on your grave."

  "Did it hurt a nerve then?" I purr, digging out another cigarette and lighting it up as Hawke puts even more pressure on my throat. "Hearing Natalia call you out for being a shitty leader? A good one never would've let Portia die."

  Hawke leans in with his full body weight and cuts off my supply of oxygen. Doesn't phase me. I'm not afraid to die, and he should damn well know that by now. He maintains that stare of his as I put the cigarette to my lips and hold it there. Can't inhale, but at least as it burns, the smoke wafts up into my leader's face. He smacks it away after a moment, and I can feel my body start to rebel against the lack of oxygen. Eventually, I'll start fighting back, and I won't have any control over that; I might not care if I live or die, but my body sometimes has opinions of its own.

  My vision starts to go, and my hearing dims, but then the front door opens and there's Natalia, a rifle strapped to her back, her big, fat brown doe eyes wide with shock.

  "Hawke! Let him go!" She lunges at Hawke, grabbing onto his arm. She may as well be pushing at bricks, but he relents and releases me, spinning on Natalia as I sag against the column, sucking in several deep breaths and grinning like I've lost my mind.

  Maybe I have?

  Or maybe it's just broken. It wasn't always this way, I don't think. But my childhood is a black hole that I can't see into, no matter how hard I try. There's nothing there, just emptiness. I imagine something bad happened to me, and that's why I am the way I am, but at this point, who gives a fuck?

  "Stand down, soldier," Hawke snarls, getting toe-to-toe with Natalia as Mace lumbers outside and sneers, hitching his gun up his broad shoulder. He flicks a spare glance my way, but I'm pretty sure there's not a person on this earth he hates more than me. He quickly turns back to what I'm certain is brewing into an all-out brawl.

  "Don't get pissy with Arsen just because you're angry with me," Natalia growls right back, lifting her chin in defiance. That pretty chocolate hair of hers is pulled back into a high pony, and if I weren't crumpled on the goddamn floor trying to regain my breath, I'd probably fantasize about pulling it. Why the fuck would she bother defending me? I wonder, pushing up to my feet. "So what? I didn't let you screw me against the side of the car while being a total prick? Get over yourself, Hawke!"

  "You might be a woman, but you're still one of my soldiers, and if I feel the need to discipline you, then I'll damn well do it however I see fit," he snaps right back, digging himself an even deeper grave. If he'd wanted to gain Natalia's favor, well, he's blowing it right now. I chuckle and light up another cigarette, but nobody's looking my way. "Take off that rifle, and get ready to run. You won't be back here until the sun comes up tomorrow morning."

  "Whoa, boss," Colt says, swaggering around the corner with his ass-buddy Weston on his heels. Wouldn't surprise me if the two of them butt-fucked each other for kicks. "What the hell is going on?"

  "None of your damn business," Hawke says, without ever removing his attention from Natalia. "Stand down."

  "Hawke," Weston begins, and this time, our fearless leader does snap his gaze that direction.

  "You want to join her? I'll take you both up the mountain and back. You can run all the way to Crater Lake tonight."

  "Boss, we're all geared-up to go hunting, and Natalia needs to learn what it's like to take a life before she ever goes on a mission. If you need to punish her, do it after." Mace moves forward a step, but instead of mollifying Hawke like it usually does, Mace's presence just sets him over the edge.

  "You know what? Go out. Hunt. And when you come back, all five of you can shine my boots, lick my ass, and swim the fucking ice-cold length of the Rogue River. If you're such a tight-knit little unit that you're willing to commit flagrant disregard for orders together, you can suffer together, too." He turns and takes off down the front steps, moving over to the driver's side door of the Hummer. "I'm gonna go to town and find a hot girl to fuck my troubles into. Enjoy your hunting expedition, and don't forget to pick up that new freezer from town, carry it inside, and install it. If that venison isn't butchered and frozen by the time I get back, I'll shoot every one of you in the foot and hold your pay for six months. Oh, but make sure Arsen cooks up a stew and has that and fresh bread waiting for me on the goddamn table."

  Hawke slams the door, revs the engine, and takes off in a spray of gravel.

  Natalia looks equal parts furious and upset, her hands shaking as she reaches up to run her palms over her ponytail.

  "You actually think good ol' boy Hawke is going to fuck a random girl in town? When all he clearly gives a shit about is you?" I ask with a laugh.

  Natalia scowls at me and straightens out her pink camo jacket.

  "I don't care what he does," she snaps, turning away and heading toward the woods, leaving me to admire her tight body as she sashays in the direction of the trees. "He's nothing but my boss, and a pain in my ass."

  "I'd like to be a pain in your ass," I murmur, and then I take off after her, pausing when Mace puts a big meaty hand on my shoulder. His dark blue eyes bore into me as we exchange a look.

  "If you hurt her, I'll kill you," he says, and I'm sure he's serious about it. I finger my own rifle and give him a look of my own.

  "If I don't kill you first," I challenge, and then I take off into the woods with him grumbling behind me.

  I might, you know, kill Mace someday.

 
But I'm not sure that I'd kill Natalia.

  That thought intrigues me, but I don't know exactly what to make of it.

  After all, what does a psychopath know about love anyway?

  Chapter 12

  Natalia

  I'm lying on my belly in the brush, my gun held out in front of me, and a buck grazing in a meadow in the sunshine. It feels wrong somehow, to kill something that looks so happy and content. I swallow hard and put my hand on the trigger, feeling Arsen quivering with violent desire on one side while Mace is about as movable and cuddly as a rock giant.

  We're going to eat the deer, I tell myself, licking my lower lip. And besides, he's lived a better life than any factory farmed animal I've ever eaten. This is a million times more sustainable and humane; the deer population is out of control anyway.

  And yet, no matter how logical I'm being, no matter how much I know I need to do this, I'm having a hard time going through with it.

  "This is too hard," I whisper, feeling choked up as the deer lifts its head, slowly chewing a mouthful of greenery. He's so majestic and so ... alive. And yet if I tense my finger, he won't be anymore. I mean, provided I make the shot. Even then, what if it's not a clean shot? What if I have to track him through the woods as he bleeds to death, and slit his throat with a knife? Can I do that?

  "If it were easy, I'd be worried about you," Mace grumbles, glancing my way. "The way I am about Arsen, that is. As in, worried that he's going to try to murder me in my sleep."

  "Fair worry, that," Arsen whispers, eyes shining. He's loving every moment of this: the stalking, the shooting, the bleeding, the death. There is really and truly something the matter with that man. "Now, pull the goddamn trigger, Natalia."