Flash of Fury

by Lea Griffith

  Her faith staggered him, took him right out of his element for a precious moment before the sound of shots peppering the metal in front of them brought him back to the present.

  He reached inside his pack, pulling out his rifle.

  “Put your hand around the side and shoot three times, Allie,” he urged her.

  A muffled scream echoed back to them.

  “See? You’re a better shot than I thought,” he said as he assembled his rifle, loading the big killer with ammunition.

  She didn’t say anything, but she fired five more times, her face grimacing with each shot, and his heart ached.

  “I’ve got it now, Allie. Get behind me. I’m going to step out. You stay here. If something happens to me, you run. Do you hear me? Run hard, run fast, and don’t stop until your heart does,” he urged.

  She gazed up at him, eyes unfocused and filled with tears.

  “I’m afraid if you fall, my heart will have already stopped,” she whispered.

  His calf burned, his head pounded, but in the space between them, her words reverberated in his soul.

  “Then I won’t fall,” he told her.

  He took a deep, fortifying breath, sinking into that space inside him that was all killer. The air became heavy, his vision sharpened, and his hearing became keener. He heard the pounding footsteps and muffled wheezes of the three men following them. Peeking around the structure he and Allie were hiding behind, he located the men. Two rooftops away now.

  He counted their steps, used his hearing to guide him as he set his scope to his eye, and stepped from behind his cover.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Three shots. Three kills.

  Silence reigned, and King was left with cotton in his ears until the adrenaline cleared for a moment. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, grabbed his pack, and reached for Allie.

  Her hands were over her ears, and tears streamed down her face.

  “No time for tears, baby. Let’s go,” King demanded.

  She got up, as he’d known she would, and they were once again running over the rooftops, sirens cutting through the air and people shouting below. When he knew she could run and jump no more, he took them down to the ground and located a car.

  Like the Yugo in Douala, this car was nothing special but it responded to his attempts to hot-wire it, so they had wheels. He stowed his gear in the back, settled Allie in the passenger’s seat, and they were heading away from the village of Alcala de Henares toward Madrid.

  Chapter 24

  Allie watched the countryside darken until finally the green grass turned black, the shadows creeping along the land until they covered everything. She’d killed another man today. That made two since she’d met Kingston McNally.

  It wasn’t fair to link the two, and yet it was the truth. She glanced at him, his face illuminated by the dashboard lights. His grim countenance made her stomach churn. He hadn’t said much to her since he’d hot-wired this vehicle and started driving.

  They’d been on the road for hours, and she’d wondered if they were traveling in circles. Then he’d confirmed that, yes, they were traveling in a way that should throw off anyone following them. They were now headed to Bilbao, on the coast.

  The silence was deafening, and yet for the first time in her life, Allie didn’t have the desire to fill the void. She felt broken inside. Fear had been her companion for four days, and it had finally locked her down inside herself. She was unwilling to venture out.

  “Allie?”

  His voice sliced through her reverie. “Yeah?”

  “We’re close to Bilbao. You okay?”

  “Sure,” she replied laconically. She didn’t know if she’d ever be okay again.

  “Talk to me, Allie.” Deep and dark, his voice held a slight hint of the South in its tones. She’d not noticed that until now.

  His words seemed like a plea to her. In her heart, she wanted to give him what he asked for, but her throat was clogged with tears and her emotions were warped. If she started down that path, she’d splinter into a thousand pieces, and he’d be left to pick them all up.

  “I will, Allie. Goddamn but I will pick up every piece,” he murmured.

  Her gaze met his, and she realized she’d spoken aloud. “I’m afraid.”

  It was the second time she’d admitted this to him. Would he use that against her?

  He slowed the car and pulled to the shoulder, shoving the car in Park and reaching for her. Allie unbuckled her seat belt and went into his arms willingly, ignoring the pull in her side as she scrambled over the small middle console and folded herself against his body. He was so warm, so alive. His heart under her cheek reassured her as nothing else ever had.

  “Shhh, baby, I’m here,” he said in her ear, his warm breath trickling down her neck and over her collarbone, sinking into her skin.

  “I know, King. It’s what’s holding me together,” she whispered at his neck.

  His smell, evergreen and mint, teased her, but it too was a comfort. She inhaled slowly, deeply, letting his scent linger in her nostrils before it tripped over her tongue and she swallowed. She wanted to taste him.

  In the middle of God-only-knew-where, on this two-lane road, she wanted to taste King McNally. She wanted his lips on hers, drowning her fear and making her feel clean.

  “We’re close to Bilbao. I’ll get you something to eat, and you can shower and rest, okay?” he asked her as his hands roved over her back and hips.

  She was spread-eagled on his lap, her body pressing into his, and she pulled away enough so she could look into his eyes and see him.

  He smiled ruefully. “I’m beginning to really like it when you sit on my lap.”

  Her gaze tracked the planes of his face, watching as her hands rose of their own volition, framing his masculine features. Her fingers traced the contours—over the slashing dark-brown eyebrows, down the patrician nose with the crook in the bridge, and along lips that begged to be kissed. Her thumbs rubbed across his cheekbones, and she reveled in the strength of the man who held her.

  He wasn’t classically handsome. He surpassed that taking it straight into beautiful. She touched the area over his heart with one hand, feeling his heart beat steady, strong. She dropped both of her hands, searching for his. He allowed her to pick up his hand and twine her fingers with his, and then he hissed in a breath when she touched her lips to his.

  She held his green-black gaze, leaving her eyes wide open as she licked along his delicious bottom lip and demanded entrance.

  His mouth moved, but he didn’t pull away. She didn’t care what he said; he would kiss her now and give her ease. She’d earned it, and he was the man to give it to her.

  She hovered over his mouth, waiting.

  He untangled their fingers and framed her face with big hands that held her still. “If you let me in, I’m not leaving, Allie,” he said in a guttural tone.

  She didn’t respond to his declaration. He’d said basically the same thing at Ella’s. He was a soldier, and soldiers always left. It was part and parcel of who they were, what they did for a living. Her heart turned over in her chest though, his words stealing her breath and making her blood hot.

  Because while he probably wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to not leave, the intent was there and she wanted it.

  She wanted him.

  So she leaned closer, hoping his heat warmed her. He wound his hands through her hair and tugged her even closer, mouths only a breath apart now.

  “Don’t let me in, Allie,” he begged.

  She smiled, forgetting where they were and what had led them to this place. “It’s too late,” she murmured, and she closed the remaining distance.

  His lips were firm on hers, and there was no doubt that while she’d instigated the kiss, he was the one controlling it. He gave her his breath and she retu
rned it, unwilling to let him pull away though he held her securely.

  King turned her head to the angle he wanted, and then he consumed her. Lips, breaths, tongues, teeth—they all met in a conflagration of desire. She sank into him, the tips of her breasts finding rest against the hardness of his chest.

  She groaned into his mouth, and he hissed when she shifted her hips over his. Still they didn’t break apart. Over and over their tongues dueled, sparring to pull away and venture once more inside each other’s mouths. He tasted like home. Like forever.

  She knew as he finally lifted away from her that he alone had the ability to wrap around her dreams, to hold her safe and keep her grounded.

  And that scared her. This man had things following him that went bump in the night. She loved staying off the radar, but for a totally different reason than he did.

  She didn’t want his life, and he seemed to fit so well into it that he might never change. Hell, he might not be able to.

  “I don’t know if I’ll survive you,” he said at her lips.

  “At least you’ll go smiling.”

  He chuckled and the sound moved through her, tugging at her belly and making her even slicker between her thighs.

  “Just a little farther, and then we’ll take this back up,” he assured her.

  She shrugged but carefully moved off him, buckling her seat belt and staring into the night outside the windshield.

  She wanted him, and if he moved toward her again, she’d give herself to him in a way she’d never done before. Completely.

  * * *

  His dick throbbed like an open wound. Her scent was in his nostrils, in his mouth, and by God, he wanted her like he’d never wanted another person in his entire life. This was so bad it defied definition.

  And his intent had morphed the minute she’d crossed the console and folded herself into his arms. Yes, he’d keep her safe. Hell, he’d already killed for her. He had no problem doing it again. If she were hurt, it would destroy him, but somewhere along the way these last four days, she managed to sink deep inside him.

  He was going to have her again. Come hell or high water, he was going to rest inside her body and reclaim the parts of him she’d stolen.

  She sat now in the passenger’s seat, quiet, eyes turned to the darkness outside the car, and he wondered what thoughts were walking through her mind. Was she still scared? Or did she trust him to care for her?

  So many balls were in the air, plans being initiated that would bring down Dresden’s conglomerate and ensure that more innocents stayed that way. Dresden was a fucking monster, and it was going to be a joy to bring him down.

  King pulled into Bilbao and located a hotel that wasn’t a shithole but wasn’t a five-star either. He registered under a burner name with a burner credit card and had them in a room on the seventh floor of the modest hotel in less than fifteen minutes.

  “Grab a shower, Allie,” he said as he lowered his duffel to the floor.

  She walked to the window and opened the curtains. It wasn’t the safest move, but he allowed it. No way Savidge knew where they were—not yet. Hell, he barely knew where they were.

  Her hands settled on the glass as she looked over the city lighting up the darkness. Her hair was a mess, tangled and stained brown in places with someone else’s dried blood. Her T-shirt had seen better days, and her jeans were equally stained. Her shoes were the brightest thing about her right now, and for some reason that made King sad.

  Her expression was wan, her skin was pale, and he wanted to hold her. But he had to procure food and medicine, and he was sure she’d want another shower.

  “I’m going to grab some food. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’m leaving my backup pistol under the pillow. I’ll knock twice before I enter, okay? Now go get in the shower,” he urged.

  She just stood there, and he realized she might be in shock. If anyone had reason, it was Allie. He walked behind her, gently grabbed her shoulders, and directed her to the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the sunken tub and ran the water as hot as he could stand it, then stood when the water almost reached to the top.

  He lifted her chin with his finger, and her gaze met his. What he saw there made his breath catch.

  Goddamn, she was potent. But she was hurting.

  “I’m going to grab us some food. Remember, don’t open the door for anyone.”

  She nodded, and he left the bathroom. He waited until he heard the sounds of her getting in the tub before he left.

  Twenty minutes later, he’d scored food, aspirin, and a change of clothes for them both. Jeans and T-shirts, but that was better than nothing. He knocked twice before he entered, and the first thing he noticed was the sound of the shower running.

  He’d left her in the bath, and now she was showering? He pulled a quickie alarm from his duffel, rigged it, and set the food on the table. The shower was still running, so he opened the door, and that’s when he heard her break—a sob.

  He threw back the curtain, and there she was, huddled on the floor of the tub, forehead on her knees, shoulders shaking as hot water beat down on her. She was crying so hard that it hurt his chest.

  He stepped in, picked her up in his arms, and held her there under the spray of the water. He was soaked, but that didn’t matter.

  He lowered her until she was standing, but her face was buried in his neck and her hands were clawing at his back. So much pain.

  “Baby, please stop,” he implored roughly.

  “C-c-c-can’t,” she mumbled.

  His hands moved up and down her back, holding her as close as he could. Her skin was wet velvet under his touch. He wasn’t a praying man, but just then he shut his eyes and prayed.

  He wanted to soothe her, to offer her succor with his body and help her forget she’d been shot, had taken lives herself, and was now the target of an insane son of a bitch.

  She grabbed his back, nails digging deep, and then she looked up at him, and he lost himself in her blue eyes.

  Kick-me-in-the-nuts for real, he thought.

  “Please don’t cry,” he pleaded, his hands along her sides aching to mold the breasts presently pressing against his chest.

  “I can’t seem to stop,” she whispered, her gaze hooded. Need was in that gaze—need and something he dared not attempt to decipher.

  “Let me help,” he responded as he lowered his head. “I can make it all disappear except for you and me.”

  “I trust you,” she said.

  And he was lost in her. It was too late to hold back.

  King took her mouth, breaking contact only to rip off his sodden T-shirt. Her hands rose, and she began molding the muscles of his chest, her eyes bright with need, her cheeks rouged with lust.

  “You shouldn’t,” he told her. One last effort to derail the inevitable.

  Her gaze cleared, and she shook her head as her brows lowered. “Shouldn’t what?”

  He palmed her cheek, brushing a thumb over the soft skin. “Trust me.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, but no words came out.

  King smiled at her, even though his body ratcheted with need as her fingers played over the muscles of his chest, then drifted down over his nipples. “Cat got your tongue again?”

  Allie rose on her tiptoes, fingers digging into his abdomen, the silky press of her skin on his ratcheting King’s need for her. She lifted her face, her mouth hovering beneath his, and whispered, “I really, really hope so.”

  He kissed her then, taking her, owning her mouth in the way he’d wanted to since the first time he saw her on the plane. When he’d caught her looking at him, he’d had no idea she was the one his heart had been looking for.

  Right now, as his hand dove into her hair, holding her still, he was grateful. So fucking grateful.

  He moved forward until her back met
the wall, and still the warm water poured over their bodies. Her tongue played hide-and-seek with his, and she moaned into his mouth as he cupped her breasts in his hands.

  His thumbs stroked over her hard nipples as he lifted her breasts higher. He broke from her mouth, moving his intentions lower. He glanced up, gauging her reaction.

  Her breasts rose and fell with her swift inhalations. Her hands clenched on his triceps. Her body was wound so tight. Allie shifted sinuously in his grip, her body begging. She wanted this. She needed him.

  He’d give her everything he had. He was going to walk away from her once he got her to safety, but for right now, right here, she was going to be his.

  “Need you so much, King,” she moaned.

  He bent to a nipple, teasing it with his teeth before he sucked it into his mouth. Her breath hissed in as her eyes widened and she locked gazes with him. That look went straight to his cock. He was beyond controlling this ravening need for her.

  “Then you’ll have me,” he told her.

  Chapter 25

  King’s green eyes burned her. Everywhere he looked, she felt it like a tactile caress. His hands were on her breasts, kneading, as his mouth suckled and teased, flipping a switch inside Allie and making her wild.

  Her body ached deliciously. The sharper pain in her side had long since been eclipsed by the overwhelming need between her legs. He was light in her darkness, and she wanted to rest inside him, to feel his warmth overtake her.

  Never had she needed like this, with every touch ratcheting up the desire until it was almost too much.

  She grabbed his hand, stepped gingerly out of the tub, and pulled him behind her. She wanted him flush on top of her, his body resting on hers. He followed her, this big man she’d only met four days ago. This beautiful man who promised her so much with his kiss and his touch. This strong man who had taken care of her when she’d been shot, then done his best to keep her safe.

  Allie turned once she came to the bed, and he stopped within inches of her. She was naked, soaking wet, hair dripping on the carpet, and her body was cooling in the air-conditioned room.