by Lea Griffith
Someone had put her into play, and turning the tables on them was almost irresistible. He had a really foul suspicion that it was someone close to Savidge who, if King was correct, had a foot in the CIA. The coincidence was too much. King could protect her from further harm. His confidence in that was solid. But could he pass up an opportunity to get at Savidge?
No. But he’d damn well protect her while he did it.
“I’m going to get you home, Allie Redding.”
She gazed at him, and in her eyes was something King had never seen before—complete and total trust. He didn’t deserve it. She was loony if she thought he wasn’t going to use her to get information for his primary objective.
Her eyes were dark, hinting at things King didn’t want to know or see about this woman. But the truth was that he did want. And he couldn’t help it.
“I believe you, King McNally.”
Second time she’d voiced her faith in him. And with that, he lost another piece of himself to her.
Chapter 7
Allie drifted in and out of sleep until the sounds of the tires over the road finally stopped. Her side ached, not with the fiery hotness from earlier, but with a dull, throbbing sting.
“I need to get us a room.” King’s deep, raspy voice whispered in her ears, sinking into her mind and making her yearn for things she’d never known she wanted.
“Hey now, I let you get to second base, but getting a room is moving a little fast.” She sat up a little straighter and let out a groan as her muscles tensed and pulled. “Aren’t we going to Max’s?”
King shrugged his broad shoulders.
“If you’ll take me to Max’s, you can be free of me,” she told him matter-of-factly.
He shook his head. “Not going to happen.”
“Arrrrgh!” She let her frustration bubble up her throat and flavor her words. Had they not had a small trust-building convo before she’d drifted back to sleep? “I am not your information carrier-slash-courier-slash-spook. Whoever you were looking for, I am not that person. I help people get clean water and grow crops. I teach school when necessary. I find doctors to come into villages and treat the sick and infirm. I don’t carry classified information between agents. I don’t do anything illegal—except sometimes I double-park or forget to put money in the parking meter. Yes, my father is Gray Broemig, but I am not involved in your clandestine games.”
“You finished?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Her mouth fell open and outrage threatened to pour forth, but she snapped it shut. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Good. Now I’ll tell you why I’m not going to this Max’s. You listening?”
His brown hair had dried and waved deliciously. The longish strands touched the collar of his black T-shirt. Her hands itched to be buried in it.
“Hello?”
His mouth moved, that full lower lip taunting her. Where was the pain from her gunshot wound now? It’s like he’d been created to tempt her. Tall, broad, and delicious. He was fine enough to make her forget her pain. And he was taking care of her.
Damn it.
Allie finally snapped out of her reverie and looked at him from beneath her lashes.
“You there?” King asked.
“Just say what you’ve got to say already. I’m hurting,” she said softly. The pain was nowhere near as bad as when she’d first received the wound. It was a dull ache now, but she wasn’t above using the presence of that pain to hurry things along.
His hand clenched on his lap. He didn’t like that she was hurting. A plus in his favor. She’d have to start keeping track of the pros and cons of Mr. King McNally. Otherwise, she’d fall so far that when he walked away, she’d be lost.
Suck that right up, Allison Elizabeth Redding. Ain’t nobody got time for falling right now.
Her inner musing had her smiling.
King ignored her.
“I don’t know Max or anybody else in this country. I understand you may, or may not, be the person I was searching for on that plane. But you’re in my care now, and I’ve promised to get you back home. You’ve already been winged by a bullet on my watch. Did I mention I don’t know Max or anyone else in this country?”
She nodded.
“Good, because what that means is that I have no reason to trust anyone. You’re in my care. We’ll do shit my way, and my way means not going to meet up with Max or any-fucking-body else. We clear?”
She felt anger simmer in her belly. She was trying to help them both! “Jerkface,” she pushed out.
“Yes, well, we’ve already established that. Now sit here. I’m going into that resort and getting us a room, and you’ll keep your happy ass right here until I get back.”
“I’m so fucking sick of you telling me what to do,” she said on a heavy breath. Her frustration bounced back to her, a clanging in her head.
His eyes narrowed. “The sound of that word out of your mouth bothers me.”
“Why is that? You toss it around pretty easily.”
His hand tightened over hers. “Let’s make a deal, yeah? You don’t say fuck unless that’s what you want me to do to you. Deal?”
“Oh-ho! So then it’ll be okay to say the dreaded f-word. What’s up with that? It won’t bother you then?”
He smiled and her stomach somersaulted. “Then it has a different connotation, so it’s perfectly acceptable.”
“You’re such a dude.”
“I promise you that before this all over, Allie, you’ll find out just how much.”
“Fu—”
He placed his hand over her mouth cutting her off. “Remember what I said about that word, Allie.”
She didn’t need help finding Max’s bar. She’d been to Kribi before. She could find it on her own. She might trust King McNally, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do her best to save herself. Max’s meant Lo-Lo. Lo-Lo meant CIA. CIA meant a way home without endangering King any more than she already had.
When had he become her primary concern? Remember, Redding, no time for falling…
Her gaze locked with his. “Okay,” she mumbled behind his hand.
“The SIG is under your leg. Safety is on. Use it if you have to, but I won’t be long,” he said, and before she could blink, he was gone.
Allie waited a single minute, counting each second off in her head. She pulled the SIG out, undid the seat belt, and opened the door. Her right side was numb, and for a second, everything wavered in her vision. Had to be exhaustion. She slid her legs over the side of the seat and very carefully lowered herself to the ground. It took a few seconds to get her feet under her.
But she managed. The wind from the ocean blew roughly, and the tang of salt water rode the gusts. She shivered and pulled the silver blanket King had thrown over her back around her shoulders.
Then she started walking. She began to count her steps, anything to focus and get her mind off the burgeoning sting in her side.
King had brought them closer than he’d realized. Allie only had to go two blocks south, and she was at Max’s. She’d almost made it to the door when suddenly it opened. Allie held up a hand to block the bright light from blinding her.
“Allie?”
“Lo-Lo?”
“What the hell happened to you, girl? Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in DC. You didn’t tell me you were coming here,” Lo-Lo accused.
“There wasn’t much time. I—”
“Allie,” a deep voice from several feet behind her called out.
“I need help, Lo-Lo,” she whispered before the fear and pain dug in deep.
“Come in here, girl. Who is that fine piece of man… Oh shit, Allie. What have you gotten yourself tangled up in?” Lo-Lo asked, reaching for Allie.
Allie heard her longtime friend’s words, but confusion was a blanket on her mind. That sound
ed like King’s voice. But surely he was still trying to get them a room.
“Goddamn it, Allie!”
Yep, it was King. Allie turned slowly, Lo-Lo’s arms wrapping around her middle. When the woman’s hand came to rest on her side, Allie hissed.
“King?” her friend queried.
“Son of a… Loretta Bernstein? Been a long time, yeah?”
“Not long enough. What are you doing here?” Lo-Lo asked.
“Me,” Allie whispered. “He’s here with me.”
“Sure he is, baby girl. Tell you what, you look like something my cat dragged in. Let’s get you upstairs and—”
King stepped forward. “No. She’s staying with me.”
Lo-Lo held on to Allie, and she was grateful. Her lease on the ability to stand had expired.
“No, she isn’t. You’re trouble,” Lo-Lo said loudly.
How the hell did Lo-Lo know that? Did they know each other?
“She’s going with me, Loretta,” King told her. His tone brooked no argument. Allie winced.
“I’m hurting again, King McNally.” Allie moaned softly to give her words effect. This whole scene was bizarre, to say the least.
Lo-Lo pulled her in tighter against her body, but neither she nor King turned to look at her. They just continued to stare each other down.
“I’m hurting, King,” Allie repeated.
Lo-Lo lowered her to a chair and turned, poking her finger at King’s chest. For some reason, the sight of the beautiful, stacked redhead that close to King bothered Allie. A lot.
King pushed Lo-Lo’s finger away and bent until his face was even with hers. Yelling—they were both yelling.
“You shot my dog, Loretta,” King complained.
To which Loretta replied, “I should have shot you!”
Allie pressed a hand to her side and watched. Her fingers were sticky again. She was probably bleeding through the QuikClot. She had no strength left. Weakness was creeping in, and the pain was sharp.
“I’m hurting,” she said once more, louder.
They continued to yell at each other.
“You and your men left me in Shanghai,” Lo-Lo wheezed out.
To which King replied, “Yeah—well, you deserved it after telling Chen where to find me and my team, you crazy bitch. Oh, and you shot my dog!”
On and on it went for what felt like hours. Realistically, Allie knew it was a minute at most, and she seriously doubted she’d bleed out from… What had King called it? A skid mark. She’d give it another try, and after that, she was going to pull herself up, make her way to the bar, and make damn sure she was at least shit-faced while she suffered.
“I’m. Bleeding!”
Silence.
Blessed, blessed silence.
Then King was there, scooping her up in his arms and walking—to where, Allie had no idea and even less desire to find out.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, strong arms and big hands holding her securely against his chest.
“No, King. She stays here,” Lo-Lo said firmly.
Allie gave up. She’d had enough. He was holding her. Possession was nine-tenths of the law. He’d won. “I’m going with him. But I could use a visit from Akiiki, Lo-Lo.”
King headed back toward the front entrance of the resort, then down a path that led who knew where.
“I’ll get him. What hut, King?” Lo-Lo asked.
King ignored the question and picked up his pace. To Allie he said, “Only you would have a link to Loretta Bernstein. Damn, woman. You are trouble.” He lifted her higher in his arms, securing her tighter against his chest. “I don’t want anyone knowing where we are. I don’t trust Loretta. And who is Akiiki?”
“Local doctor,” Allie murmured. “So tired…”
King hugged her closer. “I know you are.”
Had she said that out loud? Geesh. Tired wasn’t a sufficient descriptor for her current state.
He slowed and then stopped. Allie raised her face and watched him glare over his shoulder. “Hurry up,” he said. “She’s been grazed by a bullet.”
“Akiiki is safe, okay? Don’t shoot him,” Allie warned.
He grunted and she was assured.
“I don’t know what I did to get tossed into this shit with you, King. But you better not let me die because I’ll kill you.”
Then she gave over to the blackness again. It was a familiar ride so she took it down once more…down, down, down…
Chapter 8
The doctor, Akiiki, had come and gone. King had held her hand while the doctor used Steri-Strips to close her wound. It had been ragged and had dirt in the graze but did not require stitches. The doctor cleaned her up and then bandaged her side. She lay quietly through it all, her face marking the pain.
King wanted to take her pain and destroy it. He’d found the bullet that grazed her embedded in the glove box and pried it out before shoving it in his pocket. He didn’t question his actions. The bullet had hurt her, and now it couldn’t. End of discussion.
She lay still and quiet now, and it seemed wrong to disturb her stillness. There was no life on her face, and no barbed comments came flying from between those succulent bow lips. He shook his head and rubbed his chest.
It was crazy how she’d crawled inside him so fast. More and more, he was questioning whether his little head or the big one on his shoulders was doing the thinking.
King rubbed a hand down his face and glanced at the tiny woman lying motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest. The bed swallowed her whole. They’d come to the last resort in Kribi, the one farthest down the beach, and been lucky enough to find it relatively tourist free.
He’d grabbed the last hut on the beach, paid in cash for several days, and here they were. King could hear the sea beyond the front door of the immaculate hut and was reminded again of how quiet things were without her mouth running.
He let a smile crease his face and wanted to cuss. He’d known her less than half a day, and already she’d changed him. He hadn’t thought a person existed who could—and if he’d admitted one might be out there somewhere, he certainly wouldn’t have thought they’d manage the feat so quickly.
She’d bravely followed him, never once breaking. Maybe his angst stemmed from disbelief. How many women could go through what she had and not bitch about breaking a nail?
Hell, he’d seen grown men, battle-hardened soldiers no less, cry like a baby while bullet wounds were being fixed up. But not Allie Redding, no sirree.
“How the hell did she get shot?”
He glanced at Loretta and sighed. “See, it’s like this. Somebody lifted a rifle and fired. The bullet traveled at a high rate of speed, punctured the door of the SUV, and dug a path along her side.”
Loretta stared at him. “I’m not up for your shit tonight, King. That’s an innocent girl you’ve mixed up in Endgame Ops business.”
King raised his head to dispute and then shrugged.
“Yeah, no reason to deny it,” she said in a low voice. “How many people you gonna get killed before you just let things go?”
He stood so fast his chair hit the wall and bounced off. He was in her face that quick. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She smiled. “You aren’t responsible for what happened in Beirut, but Ella was on you, McNally. I don’t give a shit what Jude says, and I know he doesn’t blame you—crazy man acts like you’re the second coming of Christ—but she was on you. You and your Piper let her through the doors, and you all paid for it. Nina was due on that last mission, and she got sick. Ella had you all fooled. I warned your ass, and you let it go. Where’s Nina now? Still wrapped up in Endgame drama?”
“I’ve never trusted spooks, and there is no more Endgame.” He could deny with the best of them. He took another step, completely invading her s
pace. Loretta’s smile disappeared.
“Step back, McNally. You got my girl over there hurt when you should have been protecting her. You’ll tell me what’s going on, or I’ll make Shanghai look like a paper cut.”
King stepped away, letting her words flow over and off him. “How is she your girl, Loretta?”
“You know I was Company. I taught that girl how to fight when she was little more than a toddler. I owed her father at first. Then her mama died, and my heart broke for her. She’s mine and now she’s hurt. If you’re involved, it’s nothing but Endgame business. Everybody knows you’re gunning for Dresden, and I don’t want my girl taking the ride with you.”
There was some note in her voice that put King’s radar up. The subterfuge was there, hell she was CIA, but there was something else. Something deeper that made King’s skin prickle.
“I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, Loretta.” Because he’d trusted the redheaded harpy once seven years ago, and she’d made him pay for it.
In the end, he’d chosen his own ass over the woman who tried to kill him. No-brainer, really. He’d discovered shortly after that she was the equivalent of quality control for her boss. She hunted down rogues and traitor operatives. On that op in Shanghai, his SEAL team’s CIA liaison had been playing both sides of the fence. It had been Loretta’s job to bring the liaison in for processing.
“You didn’t answer me about Nina,” she reminded him.
“Nina is dead.”
When the Piper had instructed King that he was adding two CIA liaisons to Endgame’s roll, King had been hesitant. His experience with the CIA wasn’t good. Over time, Nina and Ella had both integrated into the team. They’d become family. Now they were both dead.
“People just fall dead left and right around you Endgame boys, don’t they? Nina was good people. Who killed her? I’d like to visit them.”
“You better get a backhoe because they’re six feet under,” King retorted.
“You got them?”
“Didn’t have to. They caught themselves.”
Loretta nodded, then cocked her head. “Well done, then. I wondered if you had it in you to work on behalf of the good guys anymore. After Beirut, you had everybody taking bets you were in Dresden’s pocket. Word was you sabotaged your team for him.”
