Black List_Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

  “And what did you think?”

  Lucy hesitated.

  “Lies are pointless, aren’t they?” He leaned against the bedpost.

  “Fine, I think you’re disturbed.”

  Beckett raised a dubious brow. “And what are you doing here?”

  “Investigating.”

  “And I’m the target of this inquiry?”

  “No, your client is.” The lie tripped off her tongue easily. “But I wanted to be thorough.”

  “I see.” He prowled closer, running a hand along the coverlet. “Then you didn’t hear the news?”

  Lucy could hear Storm muttering something in her ear, but she tuned him out.

  “What news?”

  “Perhaps you were right about my client after all. Apparently, he didn’t make it to the hospital. His assistant was concerned.” Beckett laid a hand across his chest, as though he were appalled. “Milton is very conscientious, you see, he always comes in on time.” His features were smoothed and composed.

  “And…?”

  “She found him in the closet with a rope strung around his neck. Isn’t that awful?” His lips drooped into an exaggerated frown.

  “Yes.” The smug bastard killed his client. And he thinks he’s gonna get away with it.

  Not on my watch, asshole. You’re going down.

  “So, it seems your investigation is over.”

  “Is it?”

  Beckett closed the door, locking them inside. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Maybe, but I can back it up.”

  Sure, he freaked her out, but when it came down to a fair fight, Lucy would win. She wouldn’t give him the chance to drug her. After facing down terrorists who had no compunction about killing women and children, Beckett wasn’t much of a threat.

  “I see. You’re a challenge, aren’t you?” His eyes lit up.

  “Why haven’t you called the cops on me?”

  “Perhaps, I’m curious about you.”

  She opened her arms. “I’m an open book. Ask away.”

  “The young man you were with yesterday.”

  “Yes?” Lucy prompted.

  “You’re absolutely certain he has no claim on you?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Excellent.”

  Was he coming onto her? Or trying to scare her? Maybe both...?

  He moved gracefully, prowling around the side of the bed. Beckett was handsome, but it shouldn’t be such a surprise. Sometimes evil came in pretty packages. His nostrils flared as though he were an animal, scenting her on the wind.

  Lucy fisted her hands at her sides. The need to flee nearly overwhelmed her. Soldiers weren’t supposed to run from fights. They bravely faced them. She held her ground as he approached her with determination.

  “Tell me, have you ever been owned?”

  Lucy gasped. “I don’t think—”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Yes.” Lucy was offended by the very idea but answered honestly. The CIA and Hussam had held her in bondage.

  “What happened?”

  “Our arrangement ended.” Lucy had been vague on purpose.

  “Hmm.” His tongue brushed his lower lip. “If you were mine, I never would’ve let you get away from me.”

  “What makes you think I was released?”

  “Then you ran away?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Beckett grinned. “You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you? I like that in a woman.”

  I just bet you do. It made them even more satisfying to kill.

  He inhaled sharply. “I love teaching women their place.”

  “Which is…?”

  “At my feet. I love taming a female, making her into my pet. For a time, anyway.” Beckett got even closer to her, invaded her space. “May I touch your hair?”

  “Absolutely not.” The thought of having his hands on her made Lucy want to vomit.

  “I promise, I won’t hurt you. I just want to feel the strands slipping through my fingers. It looks soft.”

  Somehow, he made the innocent act of grooming, sound dirty. As though he gained sexual satisfaction out of touching her in a platonic way.

  “You aren’t shy, are you?”

  “Of course not.” She glared at him. “Fine, you can touch my hair.” Beckett stepped around her, intending to stand at her back when she jerked out of the way. “No, you stay where I can see you.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Not for a minute.” But she wanted a tactical advantage.

  So, he stood a few inches away from Lucy and buried his hands in her hair, petting her. Hussam was most vulnerable when he was touching her. Desire short-circuited the male brain. When testosterone was in charge, men were more likely to take risks.

  Lucy bit the inside of her cheek. If she wanted answers out of him, Lucy had to play this carefully.

  Beckett was aroused. She could tell by his quick indrawn breaths, the thick tension curling off of him like wood smoke. Lucy just knew she could manipulate him if she could swallow her fear.

  “You are exquisite. Like one of my paintings.”

  Ewwwww.

  “Thank you.” Lucy raised a brow. “I no longer consider your client a suspect.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I’ve moved onto a new target.”

  “And who might that be, my dear?” He leaned down, his lips hovered a few inches from hers.

  “You. How many women have you killed?”

  Beckett gasped, as though stunned by the very suggestion. “I haven’t murdered anyone.”

  “Fine, how many women do you think the serial killer has murdered?” If he wanted to play games, she’d oblige him, as long as he gave her useful information.

  “You’re speaking hypothetically, of course.”

  “Yes. Hypothetically.”

  “I made some inquiries into the case this morning. And someone with these inclinations must’ve started years ago. Maybe as many as a dozen?”

  Twelve! They hadn’t found all the women. Maybe they’d never find them.

  “Any theories?” Lucy asked. They were playing a game of cat and mouse, but she didn’t know which one she was in this situation.

  “Perhaps whoever did it, gave them a drug.”

  “I see. Something to relax them? Along with the alcohol?”

  He nodded. “Maybe if they didn’t agree to play the game.”

  “Which game?”

  Beckett shrugged. “I don’t know, Lucy, I’m not the killer.”

  Hmm. Maybe he used the pills on unsuspecting women? And the syringe was for women who agreed to humor his sick fantasies? Lucy would know more once they heard back from the chemist.

  “What do you think his motive is?”

  “Well, these young women’s beauty will be preserved forever in people’s memories. They’ll always be young, attractive.”

  Beckett absently rubbed the infinity symbol on his wrist. Did he have some sort of delusion about possessing his victims for eternity?

  “Unfortunately, they’re also dead.”

  Beckett shrugged. “There’s always a trade-off, my dear. You can’t get something for nothing.” His smile was nasty. “It’s my turn to ask questions. Has a man ever truly subjugated you?”

  To her horror, the answer was yes.

  Hussam had demanded all kinds of sexual acts from her. She’d been tasked with satisfying his every whim, so he’d spend even more time in her bed. Lucy had been forced to do things, she didn’t want to do. And she had dozens of bite marks to prove it.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm, and yet you’re so bold. If a woman has truly been broken in, she’s compliant but don’t worry, I’ll train you.”

  “To do what?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough, pretty thing.”

  Thing. To him, Lucy was an object, not a person. But Lucy was nobody’s puppet, not anymore—her strings had been severed.

  Beckett reached
for her and Lucy didn’t back away. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear. He ran a hand down her body, tracing a line from her breasts all the way down to her hip.

  She could feel his hunger for her, his control slipped the slightest bit. His gaze became unfocused and he unconsciously flexed his hips toward her.

  Beckett licked his lips. “Taming you is going to be fun. His cock had hardened, making his trousers bulge obscenely.

  Her stomach rolled and bounced. For a minute, Lucy thought she’d puke all over his bright white carpet.

  He pointed to his feet. “Kneel. Show me what a good girl you are.”

  “Do you want me, Beckett?” She stood on her tiptoes, bringing their lips inches apart.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Now or never…

  “Then tell me what really happened.”

  His nostrils flared. “I don’t know.”

  “Too bad.” Lucy stepped away. “I’ll see myself out.”

  Far from being displeased, he laughed. “I do enjoy a challenge.” However, when she reached for the handle, Beckett stepped in front of the door. “Although, you won’t be leaving here until I say so.”

  Oh shit. “Get out of my way.”

  “No.” His gaze locked on hers.

  “So, are we going to do this the easy way or the fun way?” Well, it’ll be fun for me at least.” She plucked the knife from her sheath, letting him take a look. The steel glinted in the light.

  Beckett didn’t seem concerned. “You actually think you can win this.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t have any evidence, do you? And even if you did, you’d have to tell the police you snuck into my apartment to obtain it. Even a law student could get it thrown out of court.”

  He was right. All she had was a hunch, a tattoo, some creepy art, and possibly some roofies. It wasn’t much to go on.

  But Lucy knew, deep down, he was the killer.

  “You’ll have to prove it first.” With that, he gestured to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important dinner tonight, and I need to change. You have my permission to leave.”

  Warily, Lucy walked past him, but he grabbed her.

  Beckett seized her wrist, the one holding the knife, and tugged Lucy close to plant a kiss on her unwilling mouth.

  “This isn’t over,” he breathed against her lips.

  You’re damn right it isn’t.

  Chapter 11

  “Never do that again.”

  Storm raced down the sidewalk and wrapped Lucy in his arms as soon as she got within a few feet of the van. He kissed the top of her head, holding onto her for dear life, clasping her to his chest.

  “Do what? Gather intelligence?”

  “He could’ve killed you.” Storm took her by the shoulders.

  “No, Beckett wants to be in control of his victims. I wasn’t submissive or scared of him.”

  “Yeah, well, he scared the shit out of me. I thought he was going to kill you.” Storm pressed kisses to her temple, her cheek. He couldn’t stop touching her, reassuring himself she was fine.

  “Why didn’t you come for me?”

  “You told me you could handle it and I trusted you.” Storm knew if he wanted to gain her trust again, he needed to believe in her, too. Staying in the van was the second hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  “Did you hear how calm and cool he was?”

  “Is that what you were trying to do? Rattle his cage?”

  “Yes, only Beckett didn’t blink.”

  It was a CIA tactic, letting a target know they weren’t fooling you, and you were aware of every dirty little secret they were trying to hide.

  “He’s going to get away with it, isn’t he?”

  “No, this isn’t over yet, Lucy,” Storm said. “We’re gonna leave the sample with King’s friend.”

  “And then what?”

  “Test the victims and see if it’s in their systems. Let’s turn this thing over to the police and let them do their jobs.”

  The killer was aiming for Lucy, he wanted to drop this case. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

  “No, I want to see it through. Besides, we both know Beckett’s a pricey lawyer who knows what he’s doing. He’ll get everything thrown out.”

  “Lucy, we don’t know anything for sure.” He grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here and we’ll talk it over.”

  They drove away in silence.

  Lucy had shut down again, staring out the window, lost in thought. More than anything, he wanted to be her hero, but he refused to take chances with her safety.

  Storm handed the samples she’d taken over to the professor, who said he’d analyze them tonight. Evidently, King had offered him a very important favor in return. Storm didn’t ask since it was none of his business anyway. Besides, he had more than enough on his plate at the moment.

  They stopped at a red light and Storm turned to her. “You’re awfully quiet. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” Storm knew she was lying to him.

  “We should handle this ourselves.”

  “No, we should go to the authorities. This guy’s smart enough to cover his tracks.” He’d overheard their conversation. Beckett seemed to have an answer for everything.

  Storm hadn’t come up against a truly smart criminal since he’d dealt with terrorists. They’d had layers of security and contingency plans. Even if they brought one or two down, it never dissolved the entire network, since they insulated themselves.

  “How will we explain impersonating FBI agents? And breaking into his apartment?”

  “I know a friendly sheriff in the area. We can ask him to look into this guy.”

  “And he won’t arrest us?”

  “No. He’s helped us out of tight spots before and vice versa.” When the FBI had been searching for Ellie King, Huck had called to give them a head’s up, so she wouldn’t be taken into custody. Storm trusted him. “We’ll have lunch with him tomorrow and talk it over, okay?”

  “But I—”

  “Lucy, I mean it. This guy’s fixated on you.”

  Lucy glowered at him. “I can take a lawyer, Storm.”

  “One who’s murdered three strong women? Maybe more?”

  She opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut.

  “Let’s at least talk to Huck, okay?”

  Lucy nodded stiffly.

  Storm hadn’t expected her to give in so easily. When Lucy was passionate about a subject, she fought for it.

  “I wish I could’ve been in there with you today.”

  “You were in a way.” She bit her lip. “I missed this, you and me together.”

  “Me too.” On impulse, he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

  She pressed the palm of his hand to her face, watching him with a single-minded intensity. Storm could smell the clean scent of her skin, underneath the amber perfume she wore.

  The fire between them sparked, threatening to burn them both down to ashes. Once again, he was in that back seat, underneath a desert moon…

  The thought sent his mind spiraling into sensual worlds of his own making. He imagined her beneath him, pressing her into the mattress, as he ran his hands down her body. Storm wondered what her silky sex would feel like when he was stroking her.

  “Lucy?”

  Her lips were parted, and she was breathless, wanting.

  Storm recognized her need, but it wasn’t just sensual for him.

  He had to have Lucy in every sense of the word. All of her. He wanted to share her thoughts, her hopes, even her fears. He longed to share his life with her, every aspect. He didn’t want any more lies or walls between them.

  Storm wanted to blurt it out, in one big jumble. But can I bring myself to say it?

  And then the fucking light turned green.

  So
meone behind them honked the horn, and Storm stomped on the gas, driving them back to HQ at a hectic speed. Lucy didn’t let go of his hand and he didn’t pull away either.

  A threshold had been crossed.

  ***

  The rest of the ride was excruciatingly long.

  Lucy resisted the urge to rub her thighs together. She could feel the wetness pooling in her sex and the urge to touch herself was nearly overwhelming.

  She kept reaching for the old familiar anger, the humiliation and pain. The remnants were still there, but the fury had dimmed, nearly burned itself out.

  Denying herself seemed pointless now.

  She wanted Storm. Right now, Lucy didn’t care about the past, or worry about the future. There was only the present.

  “Come on, let’s head inside.” He hopped out of the car and rounded it before she could say a word.

  Lucy stepped out of the van. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed Storm’s hand for support, but it didn’t help matters. It was all she could do to keep from falling into his arms. And begging him to take her.

  “I could take the edge off,” he whispered roughly, into her ear.

  She groaned at the offer. “Don’t tease me. I’m barely holding on as it is.”

  This wasn’t about an operation or maintaining her cover. Sleeping with Storm would be about satisfying her own desires and maybe some of his.

  “You don’t have to wait much longer,” Storm promised.

  She grabbed his shirt front, bringing him closer. The urge to press her mouth to his, feel his arms wrapped around her nearly undid her.

  “You’re killing me.”

  He grinned and smooched the top of her head. “Right back at you.” He leaned down as if to kiss her mouth.

  “Don’t.” She shoved at his chest, putting a safe distance between them. “Not here on the front lawn.” She looked up at him. “We need some privacy.”

  “Then let’s go.” Storm seized her by the wrist and pulled her inside the building. They took the stairs two at a time and suddenly she was in his bedroom. It was average-looking—a nightstand, bed, a dresser, desk, and closet. She barely had time to register her surroundings before he was on her.