Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3)

by Sidney Bristol

  “You wouldn’t be in her position.” Zain shouldn’t presume to tell her what to do, but like hell he’d sit back and let her put her life at risk going to some off-brand resort with questionable security.

  “Come on. Play the game. What would you tell me to do?”

  He sighed and rubbed his good hand across his jaw.

  “Do you have any self-defense training?” he asked.

  “I took a self-defense course once, but I probably learned more watching Miss Congeniality.”

  “Okay, then. I’d say—be compliant. Don’t fight back. Learn as much as you can about who and why your captors grabbed you—and wait to be rescued.”

  “But what if no one is going to rescue me?”

  He stared at her. Did she really think that? There wasn’t a corner of the earth she could be spirited away to that he couldn’t find. And pity the person stupid enough to do that kind of thing.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’d be rescued.”

  “You can’t say that for sure.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “I would rescue you. My team would rescue you.” And put a bullet between the eyes of the sorry son of a bitch who thought putting a hand on her was a good idea.

  Andrea stared at him, and for once, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Her usually open expression was...different. Maybe it wasn’t that he couldn’t decipher it as much as he didn’t know the word for it.

  “You really are a super hero,” she said finally.

  “If you say so.” He’d be anything she wanted him to be. When she looked at him like that...he felt like he was more than just the geek squad.

  Andrea relaxed into her seat for the first time since take-off, his prosthetic hand held loosely in hers. No one had ever...held it. He wanted to feel her palm, caress her fingers, and was stuck looking at them. Alternatively, she treated his false limb as if it were him. He flexed the muscles in his shoulder and watched the mechanical fingers curl, squeezing her hand.

  She turned her head, smiling and he watched her squeeze him back.

  The sensor pads, intended to pick up the vibrations of a controller, fired off, a low level charge humming against his skin. The muscles in his chest constricted, having nothing to do with the back and forth of electrical charges.

  He’d had the arm less than six weeks, and never once had he paused to think about this. Someone holding his hand.

  “Zain? Something wrong?” Andrea asked.

  “No, nothing.” Just that he could feel her hold a hand that wasn’t really there. A hand he hadn’t had in years. It wasn’t the same kind of sensation, he couldn’t feel the texture of her skin, but when she squeezed—he knew it.

  “Okay.” She must have picked up on the lie. She leaned against him, her cheek on his shoulder, and squeezed again.

  It wasn’t the same, but it was more than he’d had. And soon, other people just like him could know what it was like to hold the hand of someone they loved.

  Shit.

  “I’m fine. I swear.” Andrea stared at Zain’s broad shoulders as he waited at the baggage pick-up. It was strange not having any luggage, but at least she didn’t have to worry about hauling it around.

  “I will come pick you up right now. It would only take half an hour this time of night,” Crystal said.

  “We’re going to crash at Maggie and Glen’s. They’re out of town and said it was okay. It’s closer. We’re exhausted.” Andrea also wasn’t in the mood to have nine cats pawing at her and climbing all over her for attention. She loved visiting Crystal’s furry friends, but there was a limit to how much she could take.

  “Wait, he’s staying?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need more details about this Captain America guy.”

  “His name is Zain,” Andrea whispered.

  “He’s staying. With you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m so coming to see you tomorrow. Are you sure you guys don’t want to come to my place?”

  “Positive.”

  “Only fools are positive.”

  Andrea darted another glance at Zain. She felt pretty foolish right now. She was falling with no parachute and there wouldn’t be anyone to save her from the crash and burn that was coming.

  “Andrea?”

  “Sorry, I spaced. Look, I totally appreciate it, but I’m about to pass out. There’s no way I’d make it to your place and Maggie has that awesome guest room.” And she didn’t want to subject Zain to Crystal’s intensive interrogation tactics quite yet. One more day, a full night of rest, and then they could be prepared.

  “I’ve stayed there. I know. I’m a little jealous. Hold on.” Crystal muttered something, her voice distorted.

  Who the heck was at Crystal’s this late at night? Most of their friends were at the con.

  Which meant it wasn’t someone directly in their circle...

  Who did Crystal hang out with that Andrea didn’t know?

  Another voice answered, higher pitched, female.

  A familiar sound.

  One that made Andrea’s skin crawl.

  No.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, stomach churning.

  Please, no.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Crystal said.

  “Was that Patricia?” Andrea asked. She just blurted it out there. Because that was how she handled these things. But it stung. It hurt.

  Silence.

  “Really? You’re telling me to come over and you won’t even tell me if you’re back with her?” Andrea crossed her arm over her chest and stared at the ceiling. The betrayal was a sharp slice to the quick. Instead of fighting to champion what they’d started, Crystal had ditched her—Andrea, her best friend—for Patricia. The good-riddance-ex-girlfriend.

  “I just...” Crystal pitched her voice lower. “I know what you think about her. I didn’t want to upset you after everything.”

  “Is that why you didn’t fight back about the comic con ruling?” Andrea had thought it was awfully convenient that one of Crystal’s cats got so sick just before the biggest social event of their year. But with everything else going on, she hadn’t questioned it. Because why would she? It’d made some sort of twisted sense.

  Miranda must have known. No wonder there hadn’t been a scene.

  God, she felt stupid. Set-up. Left out.

  “Patricia had some stuff going on. She says it’s different now—”

  “Okay. Fine. Whatever.” She squeezed her eyes shut and her lips closed. The things she wanted to say...she couldn’t. Not now. Andrea loved Crystal like a sister, but this sucked.

  “Andrea. Andrea, don’t be like that.”

  “I’m not being like anything. You left me at this nightmare of a convention by myself—with all of this shit going on—so you could be with Patricia. How is that supposed to make me feel? What am I supposed to be like?” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “I’m tired and I think we should have this conversation later. When we won’t say anything that’ll damage our friendship.” Andrea was exhausted enough that she might just let how she really felt out of the bag, and as deep as Crystal could cut, Andrea knew her words would hit deeper. Crystal might be guarded toward other people, but there were no defenses in their friendship. They were practically sisters.

  “Okay. If that’s what you want. Text me when you get to Maggie’s?”

  “Of course. Look—I might not be crazy that Patricia is back in your life but I want the best for you and...yeah.” Andrea wasn’t convinced that Patricia was what was best for Crystal. And there was only one thing Patricia would be back for, and it wasn’t the cats.

  “She makes me happy.” The anguished notes tugged at Andrea’s heart. She knew what it was to want that happiness. She just wished Crystal could find it somewhere else.

  “And I want you happy. But...this isn’t the time for me to talk about this. I gotta go. Zain just got his bags.”

  �
��You haven’t told me anything about him yet.” Crystal’s voice rose and she spoke in a rush. Andrea didn’t doubt Crystal wanted to know all there was to about Zain, but she wasn’t in a chatty mood. Not after Crystal dropped that bomb.

  “You’ll have to wait a bit longer. Later.” Andrea stood and ended the call.

  Zain walked toward her, brows drawn down. Of course, he could sense her mood. He was a wonder man.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just Crystal being Crystal. Ready?”

  “If you are.”

  “Beyond ready. I’m about to pass out standing.”

  “You sure everything is okay?”

  “No, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.” She smiled weakly and shoved her hands deeper into the hoodie pockets.

  One way or another, Crystal and Miranda had set Andrea up to go through that nightmare of a convention solo. Was it intentional? Was Andrea wrong about everything? Could Miranda or even Cliff have a part in all of this? Crystal and Patricia, she could deal with that little bombshell later. Right now, she had her own six foot plus live round to diffuse before he blew her life to pieces.

  13.

  Zain unlocked the front door of the apartment and stepped in, Andrea right behind him. He wanted to do a sweep of the place before allowing her in, but it was raining, and Andrea was soaked to the bone.

  “I always miss the rain until I’m home,” she said, teeth chattering.

  He dropped the bags just inside the entrance and locked the door behind her while straining to listen for noises. It was a little past midnight, and Andrea lived a good hour away. Crashing at her friend’s place was a matter of convenience—and it also had a higher probability for being safe. Still, he rushed through, giving the rooms a once over.

  “You really didn’t have to come home with me. I’d have been okay, I swear.” Andrea gripped the handle of his laptop bag. Her hair stuck to her face and there were goose bumps all over her chest. His hoodie swallowed her, but at least it’d kept her warm until now.

  “We aren’t having this conversation again.” He took the bag from her and rolled it to the side so she wouldn’t have anything to hide behind. “I told you—you paid me to do a job, and I’m doing it.” Yeah, he should have someone else watching her, but he was in it too deep to let go now. He’d crossed all the lines and there was no going back.

  “Zain...”

  He grabbed the zipper pull and tugged it down. She’d been sad since getting off the phone, lots of staring off out the window and chewing on her thumbnail.

  “I feel awful that you left because of me,” she muttered. “You could go back. First thing in the morning. I’ll be fine.”

  “Stop worrying about it,” he said.

  “But it’s San Diego comic con.”

  “And there’ll be another next year.”

  He was missing some cool events, but in the scope of things, keeping Andrea was safer than movie premieres or panels or anything, really.

  “Stop it. I’m not going back.” He wasn’t convinced the threat to her was limited to the convention. The event had merely provided a convenient place for it to start. Whoever was behind this would be coming home soon, and then it would start up again. “Did you check in with Crystal?

  “She’s complaining about the security at her place, but her parents are on board so she can’t do anything about it.”

  “Good.” He pushed the soaked jacket off her shoulders. “Where can we hang this stuff up?”

  “In the hall bathroom. This way.” She squeezed past him, through the main living room and down a short hall. He paused to snag his suitcase and followed her into a three-piece bathroom just off the kitchen that had plenty of space to hang up their clothes.

  He tossed their jackets over the shower rod. He’d love to have a second go at a shower with her—but the dark circles under her eyes said otherwise. Plus, he had some work to do.

  “Why don’t you take a quick soak, warm up, and go to bed?” He dug out the same Star Wars shirt he’d given her last night and held it out.

  “Is that totally necessary?” she asked, confirming his suspicions.

  Andrea was dead on her feet.

  “Nope, just thought you might like one. Up.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt, taking perverse pleasure in stripping her clothes off piece by piece and putting his shirt on her instead.

  By the time she’d changed and towel dried her hair, Andrea swayed on her feet, barely coherent. The convention, the stress, it’d all taken its toll. He herded her to bed and waited for her to get comfortable.

  “How long will you be up?” she asked.

  “A while. I have some work that I need to do.”

  “Quarter work, or work-work?”

  “Work.” He bent and kissed her, lingering a moment longer, tasting the mint toothpaste and ChapStick.

  He was pretty sure she was out by the time he flipped the lights off.

  The trip home had been uneventful. After the near disaster that was the booth time, he’d been prepared for the worst. But somehow, he and the others had managed to successfully keep her unaware of the activity around the booth. Unless it’d happened in the six foot sphere of her space, she’d been clueless. Which was perfect. She’d only noticed one heckler out of the dozen or so that’d passed them during her signing time.

  Zain made another pass through the apartment, turning off most lights, leaving a few on. He felt confident they were safe for the time being, but that was still no reason to lower his guard.

  Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his laptop and booted it up at the dining room table. If he were to guess, the space was more of a tabletop gaming and costuming shop than an eating area, judging by the things hung on the walls and stashed in the corners of the room.

  His kind of people.

  Too bad they didn’t exist in Illinois. He’d been living on an island of solitude, but that was the way of it. Even if they were around, he didn’t have time for other people. His life was Aegis, keeping things running smoothly, identifying issues before they ever were problems.

  From where he sat, he had an excellent view down the hall...and straight to where Andrea was sleeping. He couldn’t see her, but he didn’t need to. He’d already memorized her face, the freckles, that one mole at her temple.

  If pressed, he could count the number of hours since meeting her. Before then, she’d been a face and a name on a screen. He’d known facts about her, but not the real her. Now, he knew her. He liked her. And when this was over, he’d have to leave her.

  Because he protected people. Because that was who he was. And Aegis let him do that in a way that made a difference in people’s lives. Besides, who was to say when the danger was gone, Andrea would want anything to do with him?

  His face alone had nearly scared her off the first time.

  No, he’d enjoy what they had while he could and when it was over, he’d go home without regret and no backward glances. Andrea would find someone else. Someone whole, who could give her what he couldn’t. Not that she’d ever asked him for anything—he’d just thrown himself at her.

  His email chimed as messages loaded, pulling him out of the funk.

  It was time to work.

  Two emails from Admiral Crawford had bright red flags attached to them. War flags, he liked to call them. Normal people marked their email with high important markers, but not the admiral. With him, it was always war and combat.

  Zain moved the admiral’s emails around, but didn’t open them. He was still on vacation for a while longer, and while he suspected his boss was aware of his activities, this was still his time to use as he saw fit. Of course, he was using company resources, so his argument didn’t hold a drop of water. All facts of reality he’d have to face later.

  He clicked into the information Gavin had pulled together, focusing on Cliff.

  Andrea said it couldn’t be her boss, that he had a vested interest in their success, and while he’d heard her�
�he couldn’t ignore what he saw. Donations to 4chan, notorious as the breeding ground for movements like GamerGate. Questionable statements. Strange holdings. Separately, it all meant nothing. But together...it painted a picture of a man grasping onto the heyday of the white, male gamer superiority.

  Why would Cliff support Andrea to her face, set her up to suck up so much of the company money, when it appeared as though she was the very thing he hated?

  It didn’t make a lot of sense.

  He went through everything twice, familiarizing himself with everything Cliff, the history of Dark Matter, and Drudge.

  The facts were there.

  And yet...something didn’t feel right.

  Hours later, he had more questions than answers. He shut down the laptop and considered the sofa. It looked comfortable and clean. But there was a bed with a warm, soft woman in it. Though he was only digging himself a deeper grave, Zain padded into the bedroom and slipped in beside Andrea, content to stare at her sleeping face, obscured by shadow.

  Protecting her was no hardship. Letting go, now that would be a feat of wills.

  Kevin shoved the window up, holding his breath. At this hour, there was hardly anyone awake in the apartment complex. Still, he ran the very real risk of getting caught. And that wasn’t in the plans yet. He had a job to do first.

  Silence reigned supreme.

  He slid through the open space and into the apartment. His knee hit something and a heavy thud hit the floor. He cursed under his breath and slithered to the ground, crouching inside.

  No sound.

  No alarms.

  No footsteps coming to investigate.

  Kevin stood and eased the window back down into place and closed the blinds. He went around the whole apartment, ensuring blinds and blackout curtains were pulled before flipping on a single light.

  Breaking and entering weren’t his specialty, but it was part of the job. He’d had to learn how to pick locks, the weaknesses of doors, back when he was younger.

  Funny enough, it was a B&E that sent him to juvie in the first place where he’d met Speckles. It was a bit full circle to be back here, looking for some missing piece of the puzzle now this way.

  After a quick search of the first floor yielded nothing, he crept up the stairs to the second level.