by Radclyffe
“And when you catch up to whoever’s behind this, you’re just going to sit back and let someone else go after them?”
“That depends.”
“Oh bullshit, Cameron.” Blair braced herself on her arms and glared at Cam. “It doesn’t matter what kind of job they give you or what description they hang on it, you’re always going to go after the bad guys yourself.”
“I have to,” Cam said quietly.
Blair sighed and closed her eyes. “I know.”
“I’ll be careful.”
Blair rubbed her cheek against Cam’s chest. The scar tissue above Cam’s heart, a reminder of the bullet that had nearly claimed Cam’s life, was still rough and hard. She would never forget, even without that constant reminder, the absolute devastation she’d experienced in those moments when she’d thought Cam was gone. She shuddered. “Be very careful.”
“I will be, I promise. And I won’t promise anything I don’t intend to do.”
“As much as you can.”
“As much as I can.”
“All right then. We’re square.” Blair slid on top of her, needing to feel all of her against every surface, every inch of her skin. Dawn was coming. Silver light, the first hint of the day, cast Cam’s face in marble, a perfect profile etched in stone. Blair kissed her, the warmth of Cam’s lips a shocking contrast to the coolness of her profile. “You’re so beautiful. And I love you so much.”
Cam arched beneath her, pulse hammering in her throat. “And I, you.”
“Lie very still,” Blair whispered.
Cam’s breath shuddered out.
Blair took her time, touching, kissing, and stroking, luxuriating in every dip and curve and sensuous angle of Cam’s body. She knew every line by heart, but the miracle of reclaiming what was hers was just as awe-inspiring as the first time. When she pressed her cheek against Cam’s lower abdomen, Cam gripped her hand. Blair settled her breasts against Cam’s center and watched Cam watching her. Cam’s dark eyes had grown even deeper, shimmering with secrets only Blair knew. Smiling, she eased lower between Cam’s legs and skated her mouth over Cam’s clit.
“Blair,” Cam groaned, her neck arching.
Blair slowed, just barely touching her, and Cam bowed off the bed. Blair skimmed a hand up Cam’s torso and rested it between Cam’s breasts, anchoring her as she took Cam into her mouth. She didn’t hurry, didn’t want the moment to be over too soon. She tasted and teased and took her time taking what was hers.
“Blair,” Cam said, her voice hoarse and tight. “Enough. Please.”
Blair laughed, a swell of pleasure nearly swamping her. Her body clenched. She was so ready. Too ready. She took a breath. Concentrated. Filled herself with Cam. Not enough. She would never have enough. Spreading her fingers between Cam’s breasts, she let Cam’s heartbeat guide her. She sped up, matching her movements to the thundering tempo of Cam’s heart, until Cam exploded in her mouth.
Blair held her inside, held her safe. She couldn’t predict the future, but she could revel in every second that Cam was hers.
*
“Ready to go?” Sky toyed with the sleeve of Loren’s T-shirt, tracing the tattoo of the Renegades’ logo on her biceps.
“Yeah.” Loren leaned close. “Way ready.”
Sky agreed. They’d spent most of the night sitting at the bar—long enough to make a statement about Sky’s place. Loren was a ranking member of the club, and Sky was now her old lady. She automatically had status by virtue of Loren’s, but even more importantly, she’d proven she was perfectly capable of protecting her place and her woman all on her own. Her face hurt like hell but she didn’t let on. The spreading bruise was as much a symbol of belonging as Loren’s club patch. On and off since her altercation with Candy, men had dropped by to make random conversation with Loren while not so subtly giving her the eye. The old ladies didn’t even bother with subtlety—some stared at her suspiciously, and some, like Trish, gave her a smile. Not too hard to see where the dividing line was between those who were sure of their stations—or their men—and those who weren’t. She grabbed the back of Loren’s leather pants as they walked out, just to make sure any of the hopefuls who’d missed the earlier drama got the message. Loren was off the menu.
“Let’s take your car,” Loren said. “You’ll be more comfortable.”
“Okay.” Sky didn’t mind not having to wrestle with a helmet. Her head felt as big as a pumpkin. She handed Loren her keys. “Why don’t you drive.”
“Why did you let Candy get that shot in?” Loren asked once they were in the car and headed back to her shop. “You could have blocked it.”
“I could have,” Sky said, leaning her head back. She fingered her cheek and winced. “Damn, she sure didn’t punch like a girl.”
“It was a pretty good shot,” Loren agreed.
“I had to let her get a shot in—I didn’t want to call attention to myself by being too good at self-defense.” Sky smiled to herself. “Besides, it made the takedown all the more satisfying.”
“That was a pretty slick move all the same.” Loren glanced at her. “You could have hurt her more. Some of the other girls would have.”
“Yes, and I would have made an enemy for life—one with a grudge to settle. It’s all about saving face, you know that. Now all she has to complain about is not getting laid.”
“Smart. Of course, you could have let me handle it. I’m sorry I let her get the first punch off.”
“Thanks,” Sky said dismissively, “but I needed to take care of her myself. After all, I didn’t want to look like a pussy.”
Loren burst out laughing. “Believe me, you didn’t. How does it feel?”
“It smarts.”
“I’ll bet it does. As soon as we get to my place, we’ll get some ice on it. We should have done that three hours ago.”
“Listen, if I’m gonna be credible as your old lady, then I have to be tough. You know what it’s like for those girls. They don’t survive if they’re not tough. They either kill each other off or their men do it for them.”
Loren’s hands tightened on the wheel. “All the same, I don’t like seeing you get hurt.”
“All the same,” Sky said softly, “I appreciate it. And I’m all right.”
Loren glanced at her, and her eyes were hot. Sky liked the look on her—Loren was always so cool. So controlled. Hell, even when Sky had lost her temper and pushed her, Loren had kept her cool. Heat looked good on her—especially the possessive kind that flared in her eyes right now.
Loren had kept a hand on her the entire time they were in the Rooster, but that might have been part of her act. They weren’t acting now, though—and the look was still there. A look that had Sky aching for something she hadn’t known she’d wanted. Belonging. Maybe it really was all an act, even now. Maybe. The enjoyment was harmless enough, as long as Loren didn’t know exactly how much she enjoyed it.
“Had to help my cover,” Sky said, breaking the spell. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in feelings, real or otherwise.
“Anything in the books?”
Sky shrugged. “They’re skimming a little off the meth sales. Not very much, and not on a regular basis. Armeo is pretty good at hiding it. Most people would probably miss it. But then, I’m not most people.”
“You didn’t let on you knew, did you?” Loren asked. Her hot, hard eyes were riveted to Sky again.
“Nope. That’s not why we’re here. I told them everything looked fine.”
Loren let out a breath. “Good. Maybe now you’ll consider backing off. Disappearing. You’ve had a look, you know the terrain.”
“And you’re about to set up a meet with the new contact for the militia. I told you, I’m staying.”
“We’ll be leaving soon for the New Year’s run to Reno. Nothing’s going to happen until after that.”
“Well, in that case, we can relax a little and work on our cover.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it relaxing so far,”
Loren muttered.
Sky shifted closer and rested her hand on Loren’s thigh. Loren’s leg turned to stone. Sky pressed a little harder, pleased at Loren’s discomfort. After all, why should she be the only one who was in a constant state of frustration? “Guess we’ll just have to practice a bit more.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Jane found her father at the shooting range. At 0700 on a cold December morning, they were the only ones around. She grabbed a pair of ear mufflers from the utility shed and joined him on the firing line. He didn’t look in her direction as she stepped up beside him, but continued to fire rounds at paper targets fifty yards away. She sighted on the adjacent target and unholstered her Glock. Soon they were firing in unison, and at least from a distance, her grouping looked as tight as his. She emptied her clip, reloaded, and pushed the button on the automatic pulley for a new target. She moved from center mass to head shots. Fifteen minutes later, she ejected the last empty clip and holstered her weapon. She stepped back to wait for her father, who shot one more clip and then joined her. His face was ruddy from the wind. He never wore a hat and today, like most days, wore only a nylon flak jacket over his khaki uniform shirt.
“Captain,” he said as he worked the mechanism to bring the targets forward for inspection. “Something on your mind?”
“I wanted to bring you up to date on the arms deal, sir.”
He nodded and walked first to his target, where he stood for a few moments, then moved on to hers.
Jane waited, throat dry as it always was when her father scrutinized her performance, whether it was the way she’d set up a wilderness camp when she was ten years old or how she handled her weapon now.
“Better,” he said. “You’ve corrected that drift.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He pulled down the targets, folded them, and methodically tore them into small pieces. He dumped them in a nearby metal trash bin and faced her with his hands on his hips. “Some problem with the exchange?”
“Not on the surface, no, sir.” Jane fell into stride beside him when he headed back to headquarters. “But with a purchase this big and several middlemen, I’m worried about security. I thought changing a few things might disrupt any attempt to sabotage the exchange if something was in the planning.”
He glanced at her. “A surprise maneuver. Keeping the enemy off balance.”
“Yes, sir.” Jane wanted to unzip her jacket. His piercing scrutiny was making her sweat, but she couldn’t let that show. He’d taught her the consequences of revealing her emotions.
“How do you expect to accomplish that?”
“Press on the timetable, for one thing.” Jane jumped up the stairs to the company command post and followed her father inside. She waited until they were in his office with the door closed to continue. “And change the rendezvous site. I haven’t suggested that yet.”
“Hmm. We’ll need the cash for the buy sooner, but that can be arranged.” Her father hung his jacket on a peg by the door and walked to his desk. “Their response?”
“Cooperative, so far. The club president referred me to the member who is in direct contact with the supplier. He assured me she would meet with me to review details.”
Graves paused. “She.”
“Yes, sir.”
“There was a woman there the night I met with the club’s representative. That must be the one. What do we know about her?”
“Nothing, sir. At this point, I don’t even know her name.”
“Find out. We have a few associates in the county sheriff’s department. I’m sure they have files on all the Renegades.” He sat and regarded her steadily. “Remember, it always pays to know the enemy—better than they know themselves.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get a file together on her.”
“Anything else? Problems with the new company?”
“No, sir. All the men are ready and eager for action.” She didn’t bother to qualify the generic term. There were a handful of women in the ranks, and they preferred not to be distinguished by gender. She never had.
“Anything else?”
“About Jenn.”
His eyes narrowed. “What about her?”
Jane took a breath, prepared to present her plan. She’d been thinking about nothing else since she’d learned of Jenn’s incarceration. “I think we have a small window of opportunity to secure her release, but we need to move quickly—before news of her arrest gets out or she is moved to another facility and processed.”
“And the bargaining chip?”
“A hostage,” Jane said. “One who’s not expendable.”
His eyes glinted as he continued to probe her face. “And you have one in mind?”
“Several, sir.”
He smiled. “Good. It’s always important to have a contingency plan. Now let’s hear the details of exactly how you plan to secure one of these individuals.”
Jane hoped her flush of excitement would be attributed to the wind buffeting her out on the range. She wanted to appear cool and confident to her father, but her heart raced with excitement. This was her chance to prove herself beyond any doubt. She didn’t want to spend another two years hiding, just another cog in some distant plan. She wanted to fight, and she was ready now.
*
“Yes, what is it, Derrick?” Russo asked when Derrick tapped on his partially open study door.
“I just received a text, sir. Hooker would like you to make contact.”
Sighing, Russo set his newspaper aside and looked at his wristwatch. Breakfast would be served in just a few minutes and he detested a meal gone cold. “Can it wait?”
“I don’t know, sir. I’d recommend taking it.”
Russo sighed again. “All right, fine. Thank you.”
Derrick nodded and disappeared. Russo unlocked his desk drawer, took out the burn phone, and dialed Hooker’s number. He hadn’t given anyone this number and had expressly forbidden Hooker to call on his personal numbers. Now with the campaign gathering momentum, he had too much to lose and couldn’t risk being publicly associated with the militia. He needed the moderates’ votes as much as he needed the lobbying clout, and resources, of the far-right wing. With everyone from the Pentagon to the CIA leaking like a sieve, he didn’t trust anyone’s security, not even his own.
The phone rang three times before Hooker answered.
“Hooker.”
“Yes, what is it?” Russo snapped.
“Our friends might want to move up the timetable for the exchange. I’ll need the cash as soon as possible.”
“You’ll get it as soon as I can reasonably provide it without leaving a trail as wide as the interstate.”
“I just wanted to give you advance notice.”
“So noted.” Russo checked the time. He thought it unlikely Hooker’s phone was being monitored and he knew his wasn’t, but he disliked speaking on the phone about matters of consequence. “And they understand we will expect repayment to be forthcoming without delay? I want something foolproof for my money this time.”
“They know.”
“We need an unambiguous statement that points to the ineffectual and deteriorating power base in Washington. Something that hits close to home and discredits our opponent. I don’t care how you arrange it.”
“Do you care who we use as a target for the…statement?”
“At this point, as long as we’ve got a high-profile target as close to him as we can get, I’ll be happy. We can work with that.”
“So can I.”
“Any new developments in regard to the investigation?”
“Nothing substantial. We know they’ve been looking in Georgia.”
“To be expected. Any word as to what they might have learned?”
“No. There’s no paper trail—no reports being filed. Strictly need-to-know.”
“Who’s coordinating the investigation?”
“My sources can’t be certain. My best guess would be Homeland and, considering
the players, someone on Roberts’s team.”
“Are we watching them?”
“As well as we can.”
“I want to know if and when they get close to anything that might lead to me.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want the new year to progress very far without him losing some of his shine, no matter what it takes.”
“Understood,” Hooker said.
“Good. Now, I’ll be spending the holiday weekend in Palm Springs with my family. I don’t expect to be disturbed with any unpleasant news.”
“Right,” Hooker said. “Happy New Year.”
“I sincerely hope so.” Russo disconnected and locked the phone back in his desk. It was about time he started getting what he paid for.
*
Sky muttered a curse when her phone rang at some god-awful early hour. She rolled onto her side and felt around on the floor for her jeans. The phone was in the pocket. She was alone in Loren’s bed. She blinked in the hazy light coming through the small windows set up high in the rear wall of the garage. Loren was asleep on a cot pushed against the opposite wall. Her clothes were folded over the only chair. Sky had a searing memory of sitting on the side of Loren’s bed in her tank and panties with an ice pack pressed to her eye and watching Loren shed her clothes—all of them—with practiced ease before stretching out on the cot and pulling a blanket over her truly magnificent naked body. The quick glimpse had been enough to supercharge Sky’s engines despite her very unsexy pose with the ice pack, but Loren had just muttered, “Leave it on for twenty minutes,” and promptly fallen asleep. Or a good facsimile of that, at least. Sky had turned out the lights, crawled into Loren’s bed—sans Loren—with a cold bag of ice and some decidedly hot images dancing in her head.
The hot images were still there, and Sky was feeling sore, horny, and bitchy. She did her best to banish the picture of small, firm breasts and lots of long lean muscle as she brought the phone to her ear. “What?”
“Morning,” Dan Bussy said.
“It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” Sky snarled. “What could possibly be so important?”
