He wanted her.
Force would tell him he was thinking with his dick, like a teenager. Was he? Maybe. Even so, it didn’t change his feelings. More importantly, it didn’t change the fact that the woman needed cover. If she was brainwashed, she’d require help. If not, if she was being hunted, she needed a shield.
He could be that.
But first, no matter how much of an asshole he needed to be, he’d get the truth from her. “Why were you walking to the mansion instead of driving your car?” he asked.
She kind of huffed and looked straight ahead.
All right. New question. “What does Isaac have planned for Friday?”
Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me, Pippa.” Mal’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’ll get the truth out of you. The sooner you believe that, the easier this is going to go.”
She partially turned toward him. “If you have any feelings for me whatsoever, you’ll let me go back to the mansion. Right now.”
“I have feelings for you,” he said quietly. “A shitload of them.”
She shook her head, and that gorgeous mass flew around her shoulders. “Let me go.”
“No.” The sooner she realized she had to work with him, the better. “I have a feeling a lot of people are going to die tomorrow if we don’t stop it. I can’t believe you’re okay with that.” He held his breath and then exhaled. Was she brainwashed or not? “Are you?”
“No,” she blurted out. “Never. I’d never want people to be hurt.”
“So tell me everything you know about Isaac’s plan,” Mal pressed, speeding up as they reached pavement.
The sound she made was a cross between a sigh and a groan. “I don’t know, Mal. Okay? Until about an hour ago, I hadn’t talked to Isaac in seven years. Whatever he has planned is beyond me. If you’d just let me go back there, I’ll find out for you.”
Wasn’t that kind of her? Mal dug deep for restraint. “I’ve spent a lot of time the last week or so with the family. Infiltrating the place.” How much did she believe about Isaac? “There’s something magical about the guy, I know. When he pressed his hands to my head for a minute, I swear I saw stars.”
She snorted. “That’s an old trick. Push on the optic nerves and people see flashes of light behind their eyelids.”
Yeah. Mal’s research had brought up the same facts. “What else?”
“Constant rhythmic music, common goals, group meditation, and drugs. If you were feeling anything mystical or godlike when you were there, you’ve been drugged.” Her voice was brittle. Pained. “I did plenty of research when I ran away at seventeen.”
A part of him hurt for the little girl she must’ve been. “Why did you run away?”
“Isaac and I were to be married on my eighteenth birthday,” she said bitterly. “I ran away the day before.”
Mal’s body ached, but he had to ask. “Did Isaac abuse you?”
She looked down at her knees. “Yes and no. I told you the truth when I said he’d never touched me. But he made me watch him with other people. Often when he was hurting them.”
Mal’s stomach revolted. Isaac should be put down like a rabid animal. He blinked to clear the fury. “I’m sorry, Pippa.” He had to stay calm now that he was finally getting her to talk. “Speaking of which, is that your real name?”
She swallowed, silent for several seconds.
He let her work it through in her mind. At the moment, she had no other option but to cooperate with him.
“It feels like my real name,” she whispered. “My dad called me Pipsqueak, so when I could actually choose a name for myself, that’s what I chose. I started out as Jennifer.”
Her sweetness flayed him. “Pippa fits you better,” he offered.
She just nodded and turned more fully toward him this time. “Isaac has Trixie.”
“I know,” Mal said.
She reared back. “You know? You know?” Her voice rose. “Then why are we driving away from the family?” She gasped in air. “You work with the police still, right? You’re a detective?”
“I’m with the Homeland Defense Department these days,” he said. “We’re investigating the cult.”
She leaned toward him. “Then you’re one of the good guys. Let’s go get Trixie.”
Extricating Trixie was going to be difficult, and Pippa only added more uncertainty to the situation. “As soon as I get you to a safe place, I’ll go back and find Trixie.” Hopefully. It made sense that Isaac would keep her alive to use as leverage with Pippa. “The second you arrive on scene, Trixie is probably dead.” And most likely with Pippa watching, if Isaac’s history was anything to go by.
Pippa shook her head. “That’s not right. We have to go back.”
“No.” He couldn’t be any clearer with her.
“Fine.” The sound of her seat belt unlatching reached him just as she jerked her door open.
He slammed on the brakes to decrease her chance of injury.
She jumped and rolled twice on the dirt shoulder of the road, stumbling to her feet and running for the forest.
He set the van in Park and dove over the console and out her door, hitting the ground hard and rolling much the same way she had. Rocks and dirt cut into his neck, but his jacket protected him over all. Rain smashed down on his face.
Leaping to his feet, he started in pursuit, his eyes adjusting to the darkness quickly.
She thrashed down a trail, her hands bound in front of her. Had she hurt herself when she’d jumped from the van? He should’ve secured her better.
He didn’t have time to chase her right now. Exasperation upped his blood pressure. The trees hid the very meager light from the cloud-covered moon, and darkness swallowed them from every direction. She ducked right and then left, going out of sight.
He increased his speed, his boots crashing into downed branches. Damn, it was dark.
Then, silence.
He paused. Ducking his chin to his chest, he listened. Only the sound of rain on trees caught his ear. The smell of dirt and wet pine filled his nose. He chose his path carefully, trying to follow the trail, hunting.
She’d turned left last, so he followed the barely there path.
Tension stopped him, the fear of prey holding its breath. He looked around, trying to see through the darkness. If he was running, hands bound, where would he hide?
A large downed tree partially blocked the path. He went left and followed it several feet. His heart kicked against his rib cage. He caught sight of the zipper on her jacket a second before she tried to bolt.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Pippa swung her arms and nailed Malcolm in the balls. He doubled over with a pained groan.
She leaped over the tree trunk and ran again, hoping her feet found steady ground. The rain cut against her, and the wind whipped into her, but she wouldn’t give up. If she could just get free, she could find her way back to save Trixie.
She rounded a tree and smashed into Mal’s hard body. Where had he come from?
This time, he was ready for her. He caught her easily and swung her up, placing her gently over his shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself when you jumped?” he asked.
She didn’t answer and instead started fighting him, kicking and punching. Memories of the last time they’d been in this position ran through her mind, and her entire body heated from head to toe. The memory of what they’d done in her kitchen would stay with her forever
She kicked and struck him, and this time he just manacled her legs against his chest before she could really hurt him.
Definitely no fun this time.
“I’m not gonna ask you again,” he snapped, striding effortlessly around a tree. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Pippa struggled uselessly and punched at his kidneys. Then she paused at the memory, going stiff. But the smack to her ass didn’t come.
“I’m not going to hit you, Pippa.” He ducked under prickly branches. “Th
e night in your kitchen was consensual. This ain’t. I know the difference.”
“Then put me down,” she gasped, her wet hair falling to his thighs.
For answer, he flipped her around until he could cradle her against his rock-hard chest. “Is this better?”
“No.” She tried to punch up to his chin, and he tightened his hold, immobilizing her. “Let me go.”
“Can’t.” They reached the open door of the van, and he set her on the seat. Again. He leaned in, his gaze deadly serious. “Stop for a minute and think. You told me Isaac liked for you to watch him hurt people, right?”
She drew air into her nose. If she punched him in the throat, could she get free? “Yes.”
“You’ve supposedly escaped him for nearly seven years, and he has your co-conspirator in his control. What exactly do you think he’ll do to her the second you show up?” Mal’s face showed no give. Not an ounce.
Pippa swallowed. That made a horrible sick sense. “What’s my alternative?”
“Me,” he burst out as he threw his hands wide. Exasperation lifted both of his eyebrows. “I’m your alternative. I can go freely into the mansion without immediate risk to either you or Trixie.”
She coughed out a shocked chuckle. His exasperation shouldn’t be funny. “But—but you lied to me.” Could she trust him? Did she have a choice?
His eyes, so close to hers, softened. “You lied to me, too.”
“Well yeah.” Her shoulders slumped. Where did that leave them? “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“I do.” He set the seat belt around her again and shut the door, returning to his seat immediately. “The good news, if you take it as such, is that you don’t really have a choice in what you do right now. So stop worrying about it.”
She frowned, irritation tightening her chest. “That was such an asshole statement. Just in case you were wondering.”
He pulled the still-running van out into the road again. “I wasn’t wondering.”
Life had just gotten way too confusing. Pippa set her feet on the dash and looked in the back of the van for the first time. Her heart stopped. “Is that blood?” Red was sprayed across the van wall and had pooled on the wooden floor, where a dirt-covered shovel lay.
“Yes, and before you freak out, it’s my blood. I cut my arm and spread it around.”
“Why?” she breathed.
Mal glanced at her and then focused back on the road. “To get Isaac to trust me, I convinced him I killed and buried a cult member. She’s in a safe house, by the way.”
Pippa’s senses overloaded. Pure and simple. She went silent, even inside her head, for a couple of moments. She wanted to be angry at Mal for lying to her, but he’d been right that she’d lied, too. “So you and me. It was all an undercover Op.” The words ripped into her heart.
“No, it wasn’t.” His jaw was so tight it had to hurt.
Right. “It was a coincidence you bought and moved into the house next to mine.” She let sarcasm fill her throat.
“No. That was by design,” he admitted. “Not mine—I had nothing to do with that. But the HDD pretty much manipulated me into buying my house. They made it the only acceptable available home submitted to me by my real estate agent.”
“Then you just decided to fall into their plan? By getting close to me? Gaining my trust? Sabotaging my car? Coincidences?” Her voice went shrill and she winced.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “No. Those were on purpose as well.”
Hurt flashed through her, pricking just beneath her skin. “Angus Force, your boss, coming by for tea and biscuits?”
Mal actually winced that time. “Part of the Op. He’s a profiler, and he wanted to get a read on you.”
Her head snapped up. Even her nostrils felt hot all of a sudden. “What was his take?”
“That you had a crappy childhood and might be innocent. Or maybe brainwashed. He needed more time to make a real determination.” Mal turned off the quiet road and headed toward town.
Well, at least she was finally getting the truth from Malcolm. One more question, and then she’d stop asking. This one was going to hurt, but she needed to hear him admit the truth. “Sleeping with me was part of the job, right? To get me to trust you.”
He sighed, his powerful chest moving. “Sleeping with you was definitely not part of my job. Hell. My job would be eons easier if I hadn’t slept with you. Everything I said to you, everything you felt ... that was real.”
The thrill that ran through her should be taken out, shaken, and shot. “If I could think of words I’d want you to say, exactly, you just said them,” she murmured.
He straightened just a little. “Well, good.”
“No. It just shows how good you are at your job,” she muttered. He had known exactly what to say to her from day one, now hadn’t he? “Are you a profiler, too?”
“I’m just a good undercover operative,” he said quietly.
Obviously. “You’re no doubt the best, Malcolm.” Bitterness burned her tongue. At that point, she had no choice but to help him so he could help Trixie. “What do you want to know?” she asked, her body beyond exhausted. “I’ll tell you anything.”
“What’s so special about tomorrow?” Mal asked.
Oh. The answer hurt deep inside her. “It’s my twenty-fifth birthday. The day the cleansing fire is supposed to occur.”
* * *
Malcolm went on full alert the second he pulled the van into the HDD parking lot.
Pippa looked around, her face scrunching up. “This is the HDD office?”
“No.” He twisted the key free. “We’re a satellite office. One that’s not exactly run by the books.”
She turned to partially face him. “You’re the rebels of the HDD?”
“Or the mismatched toys,” he muttered, taking out his knife and slicing her hands free. He grasped her wrists, making sure he hadn’t bruised her. Nope. Not even a red mark.
She glanced down. “You’re awfully good at binding women.”
He coughed. “If you ever forgive me and give me another chance, maybe I’ll show you just how good.” Yeah, it was a little flirty, but he’d do anything to see her smile again.
She rolled her eyes. “One thing about hating your guts is that I won’t have to put up with your lame attempts at being smooth any longer.”
“Ouch.” He stepped out of the van and walked around to her side. He might not be a profiler, but even he could tell she didn’t hate him. Oh, she was pissed off and really wanted to punch him in the face, but she trusted him at least a little or she would’ve tried to run again.
He opened her door and helped her out.
She looked around the mostly vacant parking lot. “It’s two in the morning. What happens now?”
He took her by the arm and led her to the building, heading inside and pressing the elevator button. “Now we tell Angus everything you told me.” Not much of it was helpful or had anything to do with what Isaac was planning. But Pippa had been able to put into words some of Isaac’s philosophies and favorite Bible passages. Most had to do with fire and righteousness.
The dog met them at the basement entrance.
“Roscoe,” Pippa cried out, relief in her voice. She bent down to hug the pooch.
He yipped and licked her face, sniffing out her pockets.
She snuggled into him as if searching for any comfort she could find. “I don’t have any biscuits right now.” His fur muffled her voice.
Mal looked up and met Force’s gaze. “Pippa? We should tell your good buddy Angus everything.”
Pippa stiffened and then stood, raising her head as she caught sight of Force. “Angus, you’re as big a dickhead as this asshole next to me.” Her eyes flashed fire, and she put her hands on her hips. “The only redeeming quality you have, and I mean the only, is your dog.”
Force’s lower lip twitched. “Oddly enough, you aren’t the first woman to say that to me.”
Mal g
estured toward the conference room. “We can chat in there.”
“No.” Force moved toward them just as Wolfe exited the small doorway to the interrogation rooms. “Ms. Smith is going to chat with Wolfe and me in one of the rooms. You can type up your report in the meantime, and we’ll compare notes.” Force looked at the scarred desks. “We should probably get some computers. All right. Find a notepad and write things up.”
Mal moved in front of Pippa. “No.”
She pushed him aside. “I don’t need your protection.” Even so, she craned her neck to look at Wolfe around Mal.
Mal partially turned. Wolfe wore his usual ripped clothing and leather jacket, his facial scruff almost a beard, his eyes carefully blank. He’d scare the shit out of anybody with half a brain. “She isn’t going in there with you,” Mal snapped, fighting the urge to grab Pippa and run.
Wolfe tucked his thumbs into his jeans. “Why not? Is she lying about something?”
“No,” Pippa said, partially turning to face the ex-soldier. “This is all so stupid. None of you gets to be mad about me lying. You all lie for a living.”
She had a point.
Wolfe grinned. “I don’t lie. These guys do, and they’re good at it, but I never lie.”
Pippa studied him. “Fine. Do you plan on torturing me?”
“Nope,” Wolfe said. He scratched his ear. “Which would be good for you if I never lie. But you don’t know if I was lying when I said I never lie. If I was, then I lie, and I might be lying now.”
Pippa cut Mal a look. “Is he nuts?”
Mal wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. “The jury is out on that question.”
Pippa cleared her throat. “Is that a kitten in his pocket?”
“Yep,” Mal said, staring down Force.
She audibly swallowed. “I don’t guess you’d torture somebody with a kitten in your pocket,” she mused.
“I give the kitten to somebody to hold if I’m going to hurt anybody,” Wolfe said reasonably.
“Is the kitten coming with us?” Pippa asked.
Wolfe shoved the door open behind himself. “Yep. His name is Kat. You can hold him if you want while we ask you some questions.”
Hidden (Deep Ops #1) Page 25
