After MidKnight (Knight Ops Book 4)

by Em Petrova

  Carissa had feelings for the man, that was undeniable. But she wasn’t about to admit how deep they ran. The sex was the hottest, most amazing of her life, but she didn’t need to tie her feelings to it, did she?

  She wished she was worldlier, one of those women who could sleep with a man, take what pleasure she could and dump the rest. In Carissa’s case, that wasn’t possible, which was why she needed to stop sleeping with him pronto.

  Who was she kidding? If he walked through that door right now, she’d ditch her boring tomato sandwich for a lick at that man-lollipop. Gliding her tongue down the ridges of his hard abs all the way to—

  She shut off that thought and got up to throw away her sandwich. This wasn’t healthy, to be dwelling on a man who’d walked away from her once and was destined to again. She had to put a stop to these ideas. Part of her wished she’d never called him.

  But it had been so good to see him. To smell his scent and touch him. Looking into his dark eyes had been the highlight of her past five years.

  Yeah, she needed to do something—now. She grabbed her cell, which was likely to be useless but she pocketed it nonetheless, along with a few bucks in cash. She locked the house and slipped out into the dying light of the day.

  The heat had dissipated, leaving a cooler breeze that toyed with her hair as she walked down the street. Heading to the town, she mentally searched for her brother. Finding him was the first step to getting Roades to leave—and getting her life back. Her focus on the sexy special ops guy was bordering on obsessive.

  Or love.

  She pushed a sigh out of her burning lungs. She did love him, had never stopped. Now he was larger than life and like a wave during a hurricane, easy to be sucked into. If she wasn’t swimming fast for shore, she’d never surface.

  She walked to one of the places she often met Angel, but it was abandoned. The man hadn’t come looking to trade supplies for crates of narcotics recently, and that was fishy as hell.

  An image of that blood on Roades’ knuckles popped to mind, and not for the first time, Carissa pondered if Angel had come to a reckoning with her ex-fiancé.

  If she was honest, she’d admit how good it was to have him here, someone to look to for support. She’d been on her own so long, and since the disaster, the weight felt too heavy at times.

  She left the alley and headed through the marketplace. The stalls were all closed up for the night, but the scents of fruits from the nearby orchards lingered even after they were packed away. At least her island still had some resources that Hernan couldn’t lord himself over.

  As a teen when Hernan had discovered the most trouble, he’d often hung out in one section of the city. La Uniformada hadn’t even patrolled this part because they knew gangs ran rampant and they seemed to have given up the fight over turf and possessions. Too often the news would report a shooting there and Carissa and her parents would be terrified one of the bodies would be Hernan’s.

  Then somehow, Roades had straightened that all out for a few years. What was said Carissa would never know but Hernan had accepted Roades’ role as leader and followed by example, even in the very short time the man was in their lives.

  She turned at one of the last stalls of the market, which smelled like fish, and walked down a cobbled road, her soft-soled shoes silent on the stones. She didn’t need much light to know where she was going—she’d come looking for Hernan a few times in the past. But she was still unnerved. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a flashlight?

  Roades would kick her ass if he knew what she was doing, but it wasn’t his call, was it? Throwing her shoulders back, she approached one of the storefronts that wasn’t abandoned. Inside, she heard the strains of laughter and the clink of glasses that meant alcohol was being poured. And Puerto Ricans loved their music, so it was blasting through the cracks of the door.

  When she opened the door, a huge man standing as bouncer looked down at her. His black hair fell in a greasy wave over his eye, and many women would find him dashing with all the muscles filling out his white shirt. But Carissa had seen a true god in Roades and her head wouldn’t be easily turned.

  She gave him a nod of greeting and started past him. He caught her arm. She threw him a smile over her shoulder, hoping to convince him to let her pass.

  “This might not be a good place for you to be.” His warning came off as more of a threat, but she was made of tougher stuff.

  She arched a brow. “I know what I’m doing.”

  A grin stretched over his face and then he released her arm. She drew away and continued into the space, through groups of people clustered at tables with too many chairs pulled up to them or seating groups of leather couches. On a stage, a band had set up, and Carissa felt like she might be back in old times—mere weeks ago but it felt like forever—before Hurricane Maria had stripped so much from her people.

  She craned her neck to see around dancing bodies, searching for the darkest corner of the club. Because that was where her brother would be, if he was here. If not him, then somebody who knew him.

  She skirted four guys at a table. As she passed, something brushed her backside.

  She whirled to see a man eyeing her, his hand outstretched.

  He waggled his fingers at her.

  Why he’d single her out of this crowd was beyond her. There were so many more beautiful women dressed provocatively, and she only had on a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. Men like this didn’t care, though. They were looking for one thing—sex and power.

  She continued on, ignoring him.

  The scrape of a chair had the hair on her neck rising, and she glanced back in time to see the man on his feet.

  Dammit, she’d worked herself into a corner. A dark one, at that.

  The only way out was past him. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t let her do that.

  She lifted her chin high and looked him in the eyes. “Do you know Hernan?”

  A flicker of recognition. He flicked his black gaze over her figure, leaving her feeling like a dog had just given her a gross, sloppy kiss.

  Resisting the disgusted shudder trying to roll through her, she fought for bravado. It was the only way to get herself out of this dog turd of a mess she’d just stepped squarely in.

  “I’m looking for Hernan,” she said.

  “You one of his women?” The man sneered. Scarier was the fact that he didn’t seem to give a damn if she was the “woman” of a man who was powerful and dirty-handed in this town.

  “I’m his sister.” Maybe that would do the trick.

  He cocked a brow and took a step nearer.

  Fuck—it hadn’t.

  Her mouth dried out and she sidestepped him. He followed. She threw a look around. Wasn’t anyone going to put a stop to a man’s advances on an unwilling woman?

  Who was she kidding? These people were out for themselves, and too often lately she’d seen this among all the people who might have once been less ruthless. She threw up a hand to separate him before he got close enough to put his hands on her.

  “Lay one hand on me and you’ll answer to my brother.”

  “That so, little beauty?” His Spanish didn’t sound like the music it normally did when a man used it to seduce a woman. Right now, she’d take a Cajun drawl any day.

  She tried to look for an out without appearing like she was desperate and helpless. There was just enough space under his arm that she might be able to duck and run. She was small and fast.

  One song slipped into the next, and she took her chance. She surged forward, dipping under his arm and was just about past him when he snagged her around the middle, swinging her back.

  Only he didn’t stop there—he walked her three feet away and pinned her to a wall.

  Bile rose in her stomach. He smelled of tequila but was still steady on his feet. Either he held his liquor well or hadn’t drunk enough to get to the point of toppling over. Too bad—that was exactly what she needed.

  Every woman had a few moves to e
scape a man like this, and Carissa used them, shoving the heels of her hands against his chest hard and rocking him back at the same moment she lifted her knee and rammed him the balls.

  He buckled forward on a gasp but then only chuckled and straightened again. What, did he have—balls of steel? She hadn’t exactly gone easy on him but maybe she hadn’t hit him squarely either.

  When he riveted his stare on her, fear hatched and multiplied in her belly. She jerked to the side, but he grabbed her shirt and whipped it upward, exposing her bra.

  A roar sounded, and half the patrons around them turned. But Carissa couldn’t see what was happening or where the noise was coming from. She could only hope that sound was issued on her behalf.

  Bodies were tossed right and left and then a set of shoulders appeared that she recognized very well.

  Roades’ dark eyes zeroed in on her a split second before the man in front of her was lifted and thrown. Then Roades’ boot connected in a way that was far more effective than her own knee had been.

  Relief left her heart beating too fast and her knees weak. Roades reached out and with one tug had her top back in place.

  “You’ll answer my questions once I get you outta here.” His rough tone brooked no arguments, and she couldn’t formulate words that would come out loud enough to be heard over the music and the ruckus of outrage over Roades tossing people around.

  He plucked her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder.

  Carrying her like a sack of feed out of the club. Laughs sounded behind them all the way to the street and halfway down it, where Roades set her down.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a once over that was nothing like that other asshole’s. It left her feeling warm, safe. Protected.

  “You’re all right.” It wasn’t a question—he’d made the assessment with his own two eyes.

  She gave a faint nod, her wits quickly returning. “How did you find me anyway? Were you following me?”

  “Follow—” He broke off, and she swore she heard his teeth gnash. “Jesus, woman, do you have any idea what could have happened back there? No, I wasn’t following you. I happened to be in the right place at the right time, though, don’t you think?”

  She stared up at him. He’d never spoken to her this way. Then again, this was a new Roades, a harder man who took control and stomped men in the balls hard enough to make them pass out.

  He gripped her shoulders harder and shook her a little. “You can’t just go out at dark like that. You can’t go into places like that. What the hell were you doing?”

  “Looking for Hernan.” She found her voice and the strength to pull away from him now that her blood was flowing again.

  “And did you find him? Fuck, Carissa.” He let her go and paced two steps away before whipping back to face her. “You put yourself at risk. Why? Don’t you think I can find your piss-ant brother?”

  “I…” She couldn’t tell him she hoped to handle it herself—to get him to leave sooner so she could start picking up the pieces of her life.

  “The US government hires me to handle shit like this, Carissa. The least you can do is show me the same respect and let me do my job. I’m taking you home, and if I have to lock you in there, I will find a way.”

  “You’re really pissed.”

  He barked a laugh. “You have no idea who you’re messing with. When it comes to your safety, I will go to any length to make sure you’re all right. If that means dumping bodies in the fucking ocean, I will do it all day and spend the nights scouring the streets for more. Now, do I need to throw you over my shoulder again and carry you home or will you walk?”

  She blinked up at him, stunned. The force in which he spoke… about protecting her… It shouldn’t have her libido revving but it did. Tendrils of heat dropped low in her belly to make her pussy slick.

  He waited, eyes dark and glittering.

  “I’ll walk,” she said quietly.

  He took her by the arm and led her back through the streets the way she’d come. She shouldn’t be surprised he knew the way as well as she did. Nothing should surprise her anymore when it came to Roades. She wished she knew exactly what dangers he faced. She’d heard stories about the special forces and could only guess, but he was definitely capable of dumping those bodies in the ocean as he’d said.

  She didn’t know if the power he held frightened her or turned her on. Right now, it was the latter.

  All the way back home she reminded herself every hundred steps or so that she wasn’t going to fall into bed with him again.

  Yet when he took the key from her and unlocked the front door, she watched his hands. So sexy, so capable of brutality or tenderness. For her, it was all tenderness.

  He led her inside and made a sweep of the place before firing up an old oil lantern in her bedroom. “Lock the doors. Don’t let anybody in. No one followed us—I made certain of that—but that doesn’t mean people in that club didn’t recognize you and know where to find you. You put yourself on the line just by having the clinic.”

  “You make that sound like a bad thing—that I help people.”

  “If it makes you vulnerable, it is.” His jaw worked as if biting back something else to say. “Just stay here. Get some rest. You need it.”

  He did an about-face that would rival the sharpest warrior and left her room. A second later she heard the door shut.

  She sat there, considering all that had happened to her in a short time. If she dwelled on what might have happened if Roades hadn’t shown up at the precise moment she needed him most, she would break out in hives of fear.

  Instead, she focused on how he’d stepped in and saved her from being raped, probably in view of everyone in that club too. Each time he battled these people who viewed him as an outsider, he painted a bullseye on his back. Yet he went out into the thick of it again and again, searching for her brother. How soon before he ran Hernan to earth?

  She changed from her clothing, feeling grubby after having that man’s hands on her. Then slipped on a soft cotton nightgown. Too easily she imagined Roades peeling the cloth up to find her bare skin beneath. Stroking his callused hands over her nipples and pussy until she couldn’t think straight.

  The sound of the door opening had her bolting out of her bedroom. The only person who could get in was Mari, and she wasn’t expected home till morning.

  She skidded to a halt on her bare feet to see her brother standing there. He wore clothes that were far too expensive for someone not raking it in by way of other people’s desperation.

  They stared at each other.

  “Heard you were looking for me.”

  She nodded. “Were you in the club?” Had he been there, watching a man almost rip her top off and done nothing to stop it?

  “No, I came in after you left.” His face changed as he strode across the room to her. “Why did you call in Roades to hunt me down?”

  “I… Hernan, please listen. This isn’t you, this life isn’t for you. You are so much better than this—”

  “No, I’m not, Carissa. That’s your mistake to believe that when you’ve always known different. I’m no good, a criminal. It’s in my blood, and I’ve always known it even if you and our parents fought it.”

  She blinked at him in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly think this—it was the money talking. Some men were easily swayed by riches and changed their personalities once they got their hands on it.

  She shook her head. “Hernan, no. The boy I knew—”

  “Is the same man you see before you. I know how to get what I want. You can’t stop me. And your boyfriend sure as hell can’t either.”

  She studied his eyes and saw a spark of something in the depths—something she recognized as a last glimmer of respect for the man.

  She took that information and twisted it. “If you stop, Hernan, I’ll send him away. He won’t bother you anymore and you never have to face him.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t do that—s
end him away. You’re in love with him.”

  She staggered at his words, hurled at her, a blunt fact that felt like blunt trauma. Her chest ached. Yes, she didn’t just love the Roades she’d known in her youth, the man she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She loved the Roades she knew now—big, scary secrets, hidden talents and all.

  Tears burned at the backs of her eyes. “All right, I love him—I admit it. But for you, I’m willing to throw that away, to send him home. Because you’re family, and that’s what family does. We have each other’s backs. But that means you must stop.”

  * * * * *

  Roades had seen that sneaky fucker working his way back to Carissa’s house, and he was going to take care of business here and now.

  Except when he silently opened the door and caught Carissa’s words, it slammed him hard.

  She loved him.

  And she was willing to throw that away for family.

  A noble thing, but it didn’t leave Roades feeling all warm and fucking fuzzy.

  He edged into the room until he could see Hernan and Carissa, faced off. The kid had filled out over the years and had a cocky stance that made Roades’ hands itch to put him in his place.

  First, he had to convince Carissa to go in another room and leave him and Hernan to have a de hombre a homre talk. He knew she’d never be on board with letting them hash it out man to man, though. She was too stubborn to let him handle it the way he saw fit, even though she’d called him to do it.

  Roades braced his legs wide and folded his arms. “Doesn’t sound like you’re doing well on negotiations,” he drawled.

  They snapped around to look at him. Hernan’s face changed from anger to shock and back again. His eyes drew into slits as he mimicked Roades’ pose, folding his arms as well.

  Carissa shot a look between them. She moved to step into the middle of it, but Roades gently pushed her back. “We’re going to take this discussion outside,” he said, holding Hernan’s gaze.

  The longer Roades looked at him, the more he saw the young kid beneath the strong structure of his face now.