I immediately looked downwards. The damn man could bring out my submissive side with just a few carefully chosen words. Right now, I needed to get back on the alpha train.
Feeling the pressure bite, I took a deep breath. My body might have been dancing the happy dance, but my brain knew better. James wasn’t the least bit interested in me. He just liked to tease and torment when the moment suited him. I needed to remember that.
“You ready?” Taking the tweezers in my hand, I hoped to hell I wouldn’t have to use the knife to fish the thing out with. It had better not be buried too deep.
"He's ready," Adie chose that moment to waltz into the kitchen, obviously anxious to watch the proceedings. Would he win his bet? Unlikely, but he'd figure that out soon enough. James looked at Adie and shook his head before nodding at me. Gah. Now I had the green light, I was unsure of what to do first. Breathe.
Putting a finger and a thumb around the bullet entry point, I pressed down on either side of the wound to try and see if I could feel the bullet. Sure enough, there was something hard lodged against my fingers. Widening the flesh gently, I pulled the edges apart and dipped in with my tweezers, stopping when they hit something solid.
I sighed thankfully. “Good news. It’s not buried deep,” I said. Then I looked at him one last time. “You sure you don’t want something for the pain?”
“What and renege on our bet? That would be more than my life’s worth,” said James, with a twinkle in his eye. He turned towards Adie and gave him a quick wink. He was clearly enjoying himself, but whether he would be in a minute or two was anybody’s guess. That was his problem, though. I’d given him one last chance, and if he didn’t decide to take it, then who was I to tell him differently?
“If you don’t sit still through this, I’m going to knock you out,” I warned.
“Duly noted, but you haven’t got anything to knock me out with, have you?” James bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. Bastard. I’d wipe that smile off his face.
"No, I haven't, but I was planning on doing it the old-fashioned way with the butt of a gun," I said brightly, deciding I'd go with the knife after all. I needed to cut a little way into his flesh on both sides of the wound to widen the entrance site. In my experience, bullets were quick enough to go in, but they didn't like coming out much.
“I’m sure if you asked nicely, Adie would do it for you,” said James, completely unperturbed. Looking at Adie, who was standing in the corner with one eye on us, and one on his magazine, he nodded.
“Be the least I could do,” he said.
Giving James no warning, I began slicing through his flesh. He didn’t make a sound, but his arm suddenly went rigid on the countertop. I sympathised. A couple of hours ago, I’d been on the wrong side of a knife, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Working as quickly as I could, I made two small incisions on either side of the bullet, left and right, before grabbing my tweezers. Looking up, the expression on James’s face hadn’t changed, but there were subtle lines of strain around his face. I needed to get this over with quickly. Pressing my thumb and forefinger tightly around the buried bullet, I used one edge of the tweezers to tease the thing forward.
“I’m working as fast as I can,” I whispered, my eyes glued to the entry site.
"Take your time. This is nothing I can't handle, Lois." James's voice was soft and calming. I felt anything but. The tweezers kept revealing little glimpses of metal, but it didn't want to move. The thing was securely wedged in place, and it would take some manoeuvring to get the little bastard out. Slowly but surely, I worked the thing towards the surface. I tried to ignore Adie was who now watching me over my shoulder, but he was a constant presence, and it felt like he was breathing down my neck – as if this situation wasn't stressful enough!
“Back off Adie, and give her some space. You’ll be able to hear my screams from the lounge, so there’s no need to be this close.” James’s voice was terse in my defence, not that it deterred Adie any.
"If I make her edgy, so much the better. She might accidentally sink her tweezers in further than necessary. I need to win this bet." Adie leaned in even closer, and if my hands weren't already occupied, I'd have used them to slap him.
“If you don’t back off, as soon as I’m stitched up, I’ll use my good arm to throw my fist through your face – and I do mean ‘through.’ If you want a broken nose, you just keep standing where you are, Sunshine.” James did not sound in the least bit amused.
Adie seemed to take that threat seriously enough, and I could hear his footsteps retreating. He didn’t move far, but at least he wasn’t hovering over me.
"How are we doing, Lois?" I was pretty sure James was only talking to me to soothe my frazzled nerves because so far, he hadn't moved a muscle. If he was in pain, he disguised it well. This was probably a good thing because the bullet didn't want to budge.
“We’re getting there,” I said tightly. “It doesn’t want to move, though. My best bet is probably going to be sliding the tweezers over it and yanking it, but that’s going to hurt.” So far, I had been using the edge of the tweezers to move it forward little by little, using my finger and thumb to try and push it up towards the surface, but that tactic had only got me so far.
“Just do it, Lois. I promise I won’t hold a grudge, much," he said, and I looked up to find him staring resignedly at his arm. "Yank it out and stitch me up. No pain, no gain, and all that."
Grimacing, I didn't see any other option but to do as he said unless we wanted to be here forever – and we were all running on fumes as it was. There was no other choice. I simply didn’t have the right tools to do the job properly, so that meant gritting my teeth and diving in deep. Urgh.
“C’mon, Lois. Either pull the thing out or give the tweezers to me and I’ll do the job myself.” James held the palm of his right hand out and waited.
“No need for that, James. I’ll do it,” said Adie, and I suspected he was almost rubbing his hands together in excitement behind me.
"Will you two shut up?" I grumbled. Sensing it was time to do my thing or never live the shame of failure down, I dived in with the tweezers and locked them firmly around the edge of the bullet. Ignoring James's hiss of pain, I clamped my fingers around the entry site and pushed upwards before I began pulling with my makeshift clamp. Slowly and carefully, I applied steady pressure until the thing finally started to move. When it did, I tugged for all I was worth. When the thing eventually popped free, James let out a sigh of relief.
“That thing is huge,” I whispered. My eyes were glued to the glinting, 9mm metal bullet captured by my tweezers, and I was damn glad the thing hadn’t been lodged inside me. The tracker that he’d pulled out of my ass seemed tiny in comparison.
“That’s what they all say, sweetheart,” James drawled, “but do you think you could stitch me up before I make a mess all over the place?” How the man could make jokes at a time like this was beyond me, but that was men for you.
Rolling my eyes, I dropped the bullet into the dish I’d brought out for exactly that purpose and, getting another sterile wipe, I applied pressure to the wound for a few seconds to stem the flow of blood. Then I picked up the needle and thread, and if I was a little less gentle than before, James only had himself to blame. He didn’t seem to care. In fact, his attention was on Adie, and if his smug grin was anything to go by, he was about to gloat. My instincts were rarely wrong.
Sure enough, his next words were, "You owe me one hundred pounds, Sunshine. I take cash, cheques, and credit cards. Whatever works for you." Someone was getting his own back in style. I couldn't say I blamed him.
Adie blinked. “What is wrong with you two? Are you impervious to pain or what? You are no fun, you know that, right?”
James continued as if he hadn’t been rudely interrupted. “Any payments made after three days will incur interest at a rate of twenty percent per day. We like prompt payment of debts around these parts.”
Adie wasn’t listening. �
�I bet I could make you cry, James. What say double or quits? Just a half hour of your time should do it. Wouldn’t take any longer, I’m sure of it.”
The male posturing in this room was getting a little overwhelming. I was so tired I was seeing double, and I was pretty sure everyone else must be feeling the same way. Doing my best to diffuse the tension in the room, I said, “Do you think we could save all of this for after everyone’s had a few hours sleep? Can we give the knives a rest for a moment?” Pulling the last stitch taught, I tied off the thread and cut the end neatly with a pair of scissors. Applying a field dressing, James was done a few seconds later.
Adie was still looking at James, of course, waiting for his answer. Thankfully, James chose to ignore him.
“Go to bed, Adie,” I whispered. “It’s been a long day. You can continue your fun when we wake up.”
"Wanna come with me?" Adie came over to the breakfast bar, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to him. I was immediately surrounded by a hard, chiselled chest, and the smell of his spicy cologne, but even exquisite male beauty has its limits. I felt dirty, exhausted, nauseous, and hungry – and the hunger could wait. Sex was even further from my thoughts, and sex with Adie even further than that.
"No. Go to bed. Sleep it off. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm still recovering from your numerous doses of heroin and several psychological scars that might take years to heal. If you think I'm going near you any time soon, you must be fucking nuts." Pushing him away, I felt a pulse throb between my legs as the lie left my lips. Saying the words and believing them were two different things entirely. My body was so confused. Maybe a solid eight hours of sleep would change that.
Running my hands through strands of unkempt hair that had seen much better days, I decided the shower would have to wait, too. Even standing up was an effort. I was swaying on my feet. Heading towards the oak door, I put my hand on the chrome handle, and then turned around one last time.
“You okay, James?” I asked. The question was more than it seemed, not that he’d realise it. Men were generally obtuse when it came to dealing with emotions, and even more so in my line of work.
James was still at the breakfast bar, his elbow resting on the countertop, and he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. An act for Adie, perhaps? It was possible, but I didn’t think so. I had a feeling it would take a lot to ruffle James Leveritt’s feathers, and we’d probably only scratched the surface of what the man was capable of.
"Yeah, I'm good, Lois. Many thanks for patching me up." As I thought, the purpose of the question had missed him entirely, but the twinkling lights in his eyes dared to disagree with me. I never knew whether I was coming or going with James.
Frowning, I said, “Tomorrow, we need to talk. Adie tells me he’s not who I think he is. I suspect you can elaborate on that.” I gave him a pointed look that said something along the lines of ‘you’ve been holding out on me.’ James didn’t even blink.
“Adie talks too much. Night, night, Lois.” Although it was nearing midday, I guess the sentiment was a good one. James gave me a cheery wave and began packing the contents of the first aid kit back again. I wondered what he’d do with the bullet we’d just retrieved. If it were me, I’d probably frame the bastard.
Turning back towards the hallway, determined to get into the first bed I saw, I wondered if my hormones would play nice and get themselves back in order tomorrow. These two men would be the death of me if they didn’t.
Chapter Fifteen - Lois
"Morning, Lois." James was freshly showered and in a shirt of all things. As his standard attire was generally a T-shirt and jeans, it took me a little by surprise.
"You look smart. It's six o'clock in the evening, by the way." I, too, had just jumped out of the shower, and though I now felt almost human, I wasn't looking nearly as cheerful as James. Hmm. Something was obviously up. I just had to figure out what.
“Hungry?” His fingers were moving at lightning speed over what I suspected had once been an onion, and when he’d finished dicing it to death, he sprinkled it liberally over the contents of a casserole dish.
I thought about that question. I hadn't actually been hungry for days, which was a present from the heroin, but today, my stomach suddenly gave a little rumble of protest. The nausea had almost completely left me, and suddenly, I decided I was ravenous.
“Depends. What’s on the menu?” M response was a bit coy, but I wasn’t going to make things too easy for him.
“Boeuf Bourguignon with dauphinoise potatoes. Take it or leave it.” The man had now turned his attention to a poor potato that was getting much the same treatment as the onion, except this time it was being sliced. After six or seven potatoes had died, they were then arranged neatly in a dish where they were smothered in double cream. After that, he began chopping up some garlic in earnest, and how he didn’t lose one or more of his fingers was beyond me.
“I’ll take it,” I whispered, absolutely mesmerised by the speed of his hands. “How do you that?”
“Cook? It’s not that hard. All it takes is practise.” The garlic was swiped off the chopping board, and it landed with almost military precision into the dish of potatoes. Some parsley followed. My stomach then decided to start growling loudly. James laughed.
“No, not cook. How did you learn to chop like that? Your hands are moving so fast you can barely see them.” I think I was in awe of his talents for a moment. I was pretty useless in the kitchen, and watching James do his thing made me feel even more inadequate than I usually did around him.
"Same thing. It’s just repetition. You learn the technique, and you practise. It's not too different from shooting people, and there are usually less messy consequences." Placing his dishes carefully in the oven, James closed the door and headed towards the fridge. "Do you want some wine?" He pulled out a bottle of white and glanced towards the label. He frowned and then shrugged his shoulders. It didn't make any difference to me. Wine was wine.
Deciding against it, I shook my head. "I think I'll give myself another day of detox, but you go right ahead." James was already plucking a wine glass from one of the cupboards alongside the cooker, and it didn't take him long to pull the cork out and pour himself a drink.
“Probably a sensible move,” he said, sniffing his glass before settling himself down at the kitchen table. He then picked up a newspaper and buried his head in it.
“Where’s Adie?” I asked.
“Still asleep as far as I know. I daresay the smell of food will wake him up – eventually.” James looked at me from above his paper and winked.
"You and I need to have that talk," I said, refusing to be sucked into his easy camaraderie. I wanted answers, and I'd probably only get them while Adie was out of the way.
"Can't that wait?" he grumbled. "We've had several near death experiences in the last few days, and we've got a big day planned tomorrow, so I was hoping for a nice, peaceful, and relaxing evening."
I snorted. “You don’t like peaceful and relaxing. You’re a full throttle, high on adrenaline kind-of-guy. You’re just stalling because you want to keep Adie in the shit. Why is that, by the way?”
“Just because you think you know everything, doesn’t mean you actually do.” James made a point of carefully folding his newspaper in half, before laying it down on the dining table. “Fine,” he said, blowing air through his lips in an annoyed sigh, “let me take you through the basics.” He paused, and it could have been for dramatic effect, but I suspected he was quickly editing the version of events that he was about to tell me. Either way, I didn’t interrupt. Anything he might tell me was better than remaining in the dark, and there were no lights on in my world at the moment. That needed to change.
"So, Adie is correct. He is not who you think he is. For all intents and purposes, the man looks like Alain, talks like Alain, and acts like Alain, but he is not Alain."
This was a little bit too cryptic for me. "So who the fuck is he then? And where is the real Alain?" No
w I knew why James hadn't wanted to reveal that little snippet of information. Why the hell had I been sent into Carte Blanche? The real Alain hadn't even been there. I'd been dealing with an imposter and one who did an excellent job of torturing me half to death for that matter. Jesus Christ, this whole situation was a mess.
“We’re going to tackle the whereabouts of the real Alain, next. You and Adie are going to draw him out of his hidey hole.”
“Hang on a minute,” I said testily as light dawned, do you mean to say that I went into Carte Blanche for nothing? Did you know that the real Alain wasn’t there before I went in?
James pursed his lips. “No, we didn’t, and that’s another long story that will have to wait for another day. We need to focus on what’s important here, if you’re still set on finishing your assignment. It isn’t too late to back out, you know. No one would think any less of you. You’ve been through enough. There aren’t many operatives who could go through what you had to endure back there, and there’s no guarantee that you won’t be facing more of the same if we continue.”
Propping my elbows up on the solid pine table, I placed my head in my hands. Could I see this assignment through? There'd been plenty of times, just a few days ago, when I would have sworn otherwise. To make things even worse, that was when I had an ally in Adie. If I went head to head with the real man, I could only imagine things would get worse, and I wasn't sure I could take much more. On the other side of the coin, could I sit back and wait for another friend to be murdered? Wasn't it better to die trying, than to sit back and watch disaster unfold, no matter how painful the consequences?
"Lois, look at me." James was using his most commanding tone, but I was ignoring him. I didn't want him to see the myriad of emotions that were crossing my face at the moment. I needed a couple of seconds to compose myself and figure out my answer. "Lois, look at me or so help me, I'll come over there and make you look at me," he said fiercely.
Flames (A Special Agent Novel Book 3) Page 15
