Blank Slate

by Snow, Tiffany

  Then the phone call had come. Solomon had a proposition for her, an offer she couldn’t refuse. Not if she wanted to ever see her brother again. That’s when Clarissa knew. She’d only been living in a fantasy world. It didn’t matter what she wanted or what she did, she’d never be able to escape her past or the people who wanted to use her.

  A year. An entire year of her life she’d given, trying to fulfill Solomon’s demands while he kept his promise of freeing Danny dangling on a string. Each job was harder than the last and more dangerous. She’d lost count of all the close calls she’d had, barely escaping death or capture.

  The assassin sent by Solomon to kill her after that last job in Colorado was proof that he’d never planned on living up to his side of the bargain. Luckily, Clarissa had already decided to take back control of her life, even knowing it would likely seal her fate.

  She’d die, that hadn’t changed, but it would be on her terms.

  * * *

  Erik glanced at O’Connell as he drove. She hadn’t said much since they’d left Raven’s house. Even now, she sat in silence, staring out the window.

  Not that he could blame her.

  The scene with Raven was still fresh in his mind, her absolute certainty that O’Connell would kill her bothering him more than he wanted to admit. Yes, O’Connell was dangerous, but not unreasonable. Not the O’Connell that he knew, anyway.

  But what about the O’Connell he didn’t know? Would she have killed Raven?

  Erik refused to believe that. O’Connell believed Raven had betrayed her, sent killers to trap and murder her. He could understand why she’d reacted the way she had. Betrayal was the flip side of loyalty. Those who felt great loyalty would also feel the deepest of betrayals. And if there was one thing that defined O’Connell, it was loyalty. She’d been loyal to a fault with her brother. What she’d done, had endured, because of him was astonishing. And sad.

  “So when are you supposed to meet Clarke?” he asked.

  “Sunrise tomorrow at a plantation outside the city. Alone.”

  Erik frowned at her curt reply, glancing her way again, but she refused to meet his eyes.

  “Well, obviously you’re not going alone,” he said. That got a reaction.

  “Obviously?”

  “I’m not going to let you walk in there by yourself so he can kill you.” That fact seemed pretty damn obvious to Erik.

  “It’s not like we can call the cops or the FBI for backup,” O’Connell argued. “We have no proof that Clarke is behind this, and if they see you, they’ll arrest you.”

  “You’re not going alone.”

  “He wants to exchange the money for Danny,” O’Connell said. “And I know he has him. I spoke to him.”

  “How are you planning on getting the money to him when you can’t remember how to do it?” Erik asked in exasperation.

  O’Connell shrugged and turned away again. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Winging it with someone like Clarke is going to get you killed,” Erik said. “He’s got nothing to lose at this point. If he doesn’t get that money, he’ll kill you and your brother. And even if, somehow, you get the money to him, he’s still likely to kill you both.”

  “I have to take that chance.”

  O’Connell’s determination to throw her life away for Danny made Erik want to yell and pound the steering wheel in frustration.

  “Someone’s following us.”

  “What?” Erik glanced in the rearview mirror.

  “That black sedan’s been three cars back ever since we left Raven’s.”

  Erik frowned, looking again in the mirror. There was a turn up ahead and he made it, watching to see if the sedan followed. It did.

  “We need to lose them,” O’Connell said.

  “No shit.” Nothing like stating the obvious.

  “Don’t get snippy,” she retorted. “Give me your gun.”

  “No way,” Erik said. “You’re not just going to start shooting at people until we know who they are and what they want.”

  “Because that’s worked out so well before.”

  Her sarcasm grated on him, and it wasn’t because she was right, dammit.

  “When you’re with me, you’ve got to play by my rules,” he said.

  O’Connell snorted and rolled her eyes. Erik ignored her.

  Erik stomped on the gas, and the car shot forward. He maneuvered carefully between cars, enduring more than his fair share of honks and middle fingers flipped his way.

  “They’re getting closer,” O’Connell said. She was twisted around in her seat now, watching behind them.

  “Here, you drive,” Erik said.

  “What? Why?”

  “In case we do have to start shooting; I have a badge and you don’t,” he explained.

  “Fine. But for the record, I’m a better shot than you are.”

  “For your information, I was the youngest kid awarded the rifle shooting merit badge in my troop,” Erik said, holding the wheel as she climbed across him.

  “Is that supposed to impress me?”

  “Just enough to get you back into my bed.” She took over the gas pedal and Erik slid out from underneath her.

  “It takes more than fancy shooting,” she said loftily, making a sharp turn.

  Erik was thrown against the door. “Would you warn me before you do that?”

  “It’s a car chase! What do you expect?” She laid into the horn, cutting off any retort Erik might have made.

  “Can you let them get close enough so I can see who they are?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Just don’t get shot.”

  Without warning, O’Connell stomped on the brakes and did an illegal U-turn. Horns honked around them and tires squealed. Erik was flung against the door again, then back as she gunned it.

  “Out your side,” she said.

  Erik looked out his window and saw they were now speeding toward the sedan in a game of chicken. At the last second, O’Connell swerved and they skimmed the side of the car, missing it by inches. Erik got a good look at the man driving.

  “It’s Kaminski,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “My partner.”

  “I thought you two broke up?” O’Connell swerved down a side street, made three more turns in rapid succession, and lost him.

  “We didn’t ‘break up,’” Erik said. “We just don’t work well together.”

  “So why is he here?”

  “No idea.”

  “You thought he might be the mole, but it turns out Clarke is,” O’Connell reminded him.

  “I know, but he’s here.” Erik glanced at her. “They might be working together.”

  “Or maybe he’s your partner and you’ve been missing for days and he’s trying to find you,” she said.

  “What an uncharacteristically charitable thought from you, O’Connell,” Erik said.

  She shrugged. “Guess your bleeding heart is rubbing off on me.”

  They spent the rest of the car ride in silence until she parked in the lot at the bed-and-breakfast, and Erik took O’Connell’s elbow as they went upstairs to their room. Mrs. Cooper had thoughtfully left a tray of cold sandwiches for them. Despite their appearance upon arrival, it seemed she thought this was a romantic getaway. Erik noted the bottle of wine and two glasses also on the table.

  He sat on the loveseat, bracing his elbows on his knees and steepling his hands under his chin. He observed O’Connell. She seemed strung out with nervous energy, pacing the room, picking up knickknacks here and there before putting them back down again. Erik wasn’t sure she even realized she was doing it.

  “Do you think Kaminski knows what Clarke is planning?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “If he’s Clarke’s backup, he’s definitely planning to kill me,” she said.

  “Which is why you need me there.”

  “We’ve been through this — ” she began.

  “He won’t know I’m
there unless he makes a move on you,” Erik interrupted. “I just want to protect you.”

  For a moment, he thought she didn’t hear him. Then she spoke.

  “Danny is a convicted criminal, Langston,” she said, finally ceasing her pacing as she stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace. “You’re an FBI agent. Even if things do go according to plan, are you just going to let him walk away?”

  The question gave him pause. O’Connell was nobody’s fool. She knew him well enough by now to know he’d want to follow the law and put Danny right back where he’d come from. But he also knew that if he did that, she’d never stay with him. She’d understand that he had to do what he had to do, but she’d leave.

  He took a deep breath. “I would,” he said. “For you.”

  O’Connell’s gaze snapped to his.

  “If the only way I won’t lose you is by letting your brother go free, then that’s what I’ll do,” he said.

  A breath of silence passed as he waited to hear what she’d say.

  “You’d let him go?” she asked, disbelief edging her words. “Just like that? When you know what he’s done?”

  Erik got up and went to her. “I promise you,” he said.

  She searched his eyes, her brow furrowing. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not, I swear to you.” He cupped her jaw in his palm, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. Her skin was satin soft. “Look in my eyes. I’ll let him go. Trust me.”

  “You don’t want to be with me, Langston,” O’Connell said softly. “Even if Clarke keeps his word, I still have a target on my back. Solomon will never stop looking for that money, only now I won’t have it to give back to him. You’ve got to know that.”

  Her eyes were blue pools of sadness and resignation. It made Erik ache inside to see her hopelessness.

  “I don’t care. We’ll find a way. I’ll protect you.” Even if it was the last thing he did, he silently vowed.

  God help her, Clarissa believed him.

  She shouldn’t. She knew enough, remembered enough, to know that everyone lied. Even her, as she stood there in front of Langston. He was putting everything on the line, baring his soul to her, and she couldn’t even bring herself to tell him that she remembered. She remembered everything.

  And what would he say if he knew? Would he tell her the truth? The truth he’d been hiding all along?

  The weight of the world felt as though it rested on her shoulders, and Clarissa thought with some chagrin, no wonder she’d lost her memory. Her life was empty, tragic, pointless. Who would want to remember it, if given the opportunity? Hell, she didn’t even want to remember, though she no longer had any choice.

  No choice but to remember all the bad decisions, the left turns when she should have turned right, the times she’d said yes when she should’ve said no. Maybe if she’d said no, she might be worthy of this man standing in front of her, looking at her as though she meant more to him than his next breath.

  “I’m not worth it,” she managed to whisper. Tears clogged her throat, but she swallowed them down. Clarissa O’Connell did not cry. Ever. A fact she’d forgotten along with everything else. Tears showed weakness, and she wasn’t weak.

  “That’s bullshit,” Langston said fiercely.

  “You — ” Her voice broke and she swallowed again. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “I know everything you’ve done,” he said, “and none of it matters. Not to me. Not anymore.”

  Well. The only correct response to that was for Clarissa to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

  The same desperation Clarissa had felt at her house when she’d kissed Langston filled her again, only this time, she knew why that clock inside her head was ticking. It had nothing to do with Solomon and everything to do with her. Because once Langston found out what she planned to do, he wouldn’t feel this way about her anymore.

  He cared about a woman who didn’t exist, a woman with no memory of her misdeeds or knowledge of exactly how far she’d go.

  One more time. One last time. To be with him, to know how it felt to be cherished, protected, cared for above all others.

  And one last chance to show him in return.

  Clarissa unbuttoned his shirt without breaking their kiss. Their mouths melded together as though they couldn’t get close enough. She memorized his taste, the texture of his lips against hers, the feel of his arms holding her.

  His chest was warm and hard to the touch. Her palms skated over his abdomen, the muscles there contracting at the light brush of her fingers. Langston’s belt was a minor hindrance, quickly done away with, then she was unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper.

  He groaned against her lips when she freed him from the denim, heavy and hard in her light grip. Pulling back, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Before he could say or do anything, she had touched her tongue to his cock, a slow lick that made Langston hiss between his teeth.

  Clarissa looked up at him. The firelight danced off the skin of his chest, bared from his open shirt, and his eyes smoldered with molten heat.

  “Watch me,” she said, though the order seemed unnecessary. It didn’t look like he was even blinking.

  Clarissa slowly took him in her mouth, her hand wrapped around the base of his cock. She relaxed her throat, taking in as much of him as possible. The sweet tang of his skin, the slightly musky scent of his body, the sight of him watching her do this to him, all of it filled her senses. The flesh between her thighs grew warm and aching.

  Langston had gone commando today, and Clarissa could only give thanks to the gods above as she cupped his perfect ass in her palms. She’d willingly pray at the altar of his body all night long.

  His breath was coming in pants, his hips thrusting into her mouth as she encouraged him, moaning around his cock. And still, he watched her, their eyes locked together.

  Clarissa’s arousal was at a fever pitch, her body humming with desire. She quickly undid her jeans, slipping a hand inside.

  “No,” Langston gasped, pulling away. In seconds, he was down on the floor with her, tugging off her jeans. “You’ll come with me inside you.”

  He wasn’t going to get an argument from her. Her shirt was ripped over her head and flung aside. Langston pulled her astride his lap, thrusting inside her.

  Clarissa gasped while Langston moaned. Their tongues tangled in a heated kiss before Clarissa pulled away, panting for breath.

  She placed her hands on his chest and pushed until he lay flat on the floor. Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra and let it slide down her arms. She rose and fell on him, his thick length filling her. His hips took up her rhythm, stroking between her legs until she cried out, convulsing around him.

  Langston’s hands bit into her hips as she lay on top of him, thrusting hard into her already swollen flesh.

  “Come again for me, Clarissa,” he ground out.

  Her body was too sensitive and she wanted to get away, but he wouldn’t let her, the pressure unrelenting until, unbelievably, she felt her body tighten again.

  “Erik! Oh God!” she sobbed, splintering apart.

  Langston gave a muffled shout, jerking hard into her, his orgasm prolonging hers, perfectly in sync, until she couldn’t tell his body from her own.

  O’Connell lay against his chest, her body boneless and slight. Erik had released her hips and now his hands moved up and down her back, lightly stroking her skin. She seemed impossibly small for all she was capable of.

  She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Feisty, incredibly smart, fearless, loyal, independent. Yes, she was also a thief and wanted woman, but that didn’t matter anymore. They’d find a way out of this mess, and when it was all over, nothing would stop them from being together.

  O’Connell lifted her head to look at him and smiled a slow, sexy smile. The surge of possessiveness that filled Erik took him by surprise. He felt almost caveman in the way it was nearly a physical need to hol
d her close.

  He cupped her cheek, his fingers threading through her hair. She closed her eyes, tipping her head into his palm. The sight made his chest constrict.

  “Clarissa,” he said, his voice rough. She opened her eyes. “I love you.” The words seemed to fall out of their own accord, but Erik realized it was true. Somehow, he’d fallen in love with the one woman he never would have suspected.

  O’Connell’s smile faded and her face paled under his hand. Her eyes were wide but her voice steady as she said, “Don’t get sappy on me, Langston.”

  Before, those words would have angered him. Now he knew fear prompted them.

  “It’s true,” he said. “And I know you’re afraid, but that’s okay.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, pulling away. In moments, she was off him entirely. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  Erik was on his feet now, and he grabbed her arm, preventing her from escaping him. “That’s not quite true, is it? You’re afraid of letting someone in, of letting me in.” Something was different with her. Something was off. It nagged at him, but he pushed the thought aside.

  Her eyes shot daggers at him. “I don’t take kindly to being held against my will, Langston,” she said. “Let me go.”

  “I love you, Clarissa,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  She moved then, so fast Erik didn’t even have time to react. One second, he had her by the arm, the next he was flat on the floor, eating carpet.

  Ow.

  Erik couldn’t decide what was worse, the damage she’d just inflicted on his body or his ego.

  “I warned you,” she said coolly.

  Erik turned over onto his back. He had a brief satisfaction at seeing O’Connell’s eyes flick down his naked body. She swallowed, then hurriedly glanced back to his face.

  “See something you like?” he asked, bending an elbow behind his head.

  Her lips twitched slightly. She arched a brow and put a hand on her hip. “Not turned off by a girl that just laid you out flat, Langston?”

  Oooh, he loved it when she got all badass. He felt his body stir. “Not in the slightest,” he replied honestly.

  Her gaze flicked downward again and she licked her lips. That got a reaction, and he bit back a groan. But damn, the floor was hard and uncomfortable.