Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  From the food stands that lined the other side of the street they bought soft drinks, quesadillas, and small rolled tacos smothered in guacamole. Then they sat on the curb to eat. When she reached for a taco, he captured her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm.

  Alarm flared in her eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  “Absolutely. Is it working?”

  She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “That’s not the point. You can’t.”

  “You mean I’m not allowed to be romantic?”

  “No.” She pulled her hand free and scooped up a taco. “Max, has it occurred to you that you could be married?”

  “Has it occurred to you that we could both be dead tomorrow?”

  “That’s not an answer. Or an excuse.”

  “Can it be a reason?”

  “I don’t know. That may depend on your answer.”

  “Jesus. I thought I was a hard ass.” He watched her lick guacamole off her fingers and bit back a groan. “Yes, it’s crossed my mind. But I don’t feel married.”

  He paused as the image of a beautiful woman flashed across his mind. The feeling it triggered wasn’t love, however, but disdain. “In fact, I get the sense I’ve deliberately avoided that sort of commitment. That I’m too uptight and controlled.” A sigh slipped out. “As eager as I am to get my memory back, I’m not sure I want to be that person again.” Wiping off his hands, he framed her face with them and touched his lips to hers. “Especially when I kiss you.”

  “Max—”

  “Hush.”

  Whatever she was about to say, he didn’t want to hear it. Stymied, he grabbed a taco for himself as a blaring horn announced the start of the parade.

  “Eat,” he ordered, passing her a quesadilla. “Nick would have to have super powers to find us in this mob. So relax and watch the parade.”

  Vehicular traffic had been blocked off. People danced along the edge of the street as the parade passed by—as often as not, mixing right in with the marchers. Performers in bright costumes wove through the crowd. Max saw Tess’s eyes light up as she watched a juggler dressed like a giant grasshopper. Christ, the woman had gorgeous eyes.

  When they’d finished eating, he gathered up the food containers then pulled her to her feet. “I need a drink,” he said, tossing their litter in a trashcan. “I don’t suppose there’s a bar around here, is there?”

  “I’m sure we could find one. But we could also buy a bottle from that stand down there by the payphone and drink it while we watch the parade.”

  “That works for me.”

  She stopped in front of the small wooden cart filled with liquor bottles. “What’s your preferred poison?”

  “Tequila. Since we’re in Mexico.”

  She bought a half pint of Jose Cuervo. It came with a tiny saltshaker and a plastic cup filled with quartered limes. Using his tongue, Max dampened some skin on his hand, sprinkled the salt on the wet spot, licked it off, and took a drink from the bottle. When he grabbed for a piece of lime, it slipped out of his fingers and landed on the sidewalk.

  “This is hard to do standing up.”

  Tess handed him another piece. “If your hand-eye coordination deteriorates with only one drink of tequila, maybe you shouldn’t have any more.”

  “Fine, smartass, you try it.”

  She ignored the salt and lime and just drank the booze. He got a kick out of the way she closed her eyes and shuddered after each swig. They shared the bottle, passing it back and forth between them. By the time it was empty, she had her hand over her eyes and was none too steady on her feet.

  “You okay, angel?”

  “That stuff went straight to my head.”

  “Tequila can do that.”

  She leaned against him. “Is the world really spinning, or is that me?”

  “Good thing we didn’t buy a quart,” he said dryly, supporting her with an arm around her waist.

  Tossing the empty bottle in the trash, he guided her into the street. Then he took her in his arms and moved to the rhythm of the music.

  “Are you sure we’re doing this right?” she asked with a giggle as they staggered a bit.

  “It’s working for me,” he told her, tightening his embrace and nuzzling her hair.

  Her giggle expanded into laughter when he bent her backward in an exaggerated dip. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh. He loved the sound.

  Amusement sparkled in her eyes, colored her cheeks. His heart stumbled. He couldn’t have resisted if he’d tried. Cupping the back of her head as he raised her up, he covered her lips with his and drank her in. She wound her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his, and returned the kiss.

  God, he loved kissing her. Soft, warm, and more intoxicating than tequila, she tasted like ice cream on a moonlit island in the South Pacific. Fresh, exotic, and sweet.

  They’d danced for the best part of an hour when the band took a break. After the last song ended, Max stood and held her, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent—wildflowers and honey. What difference did his past make as long as Tess was here now?

  “The music’s stopped, Max,” she whispered. Something landed in his hair. “And people are throwing confetti at us.”

  He opened his eyes and saw a layer of tiny, pink and white squares of paper on her head. “So they are.” Ruffling her hair, he watched the confetti fall to the pavement. “Feel better, or is the world still spinning?”

  She laughed again. “Much better. The spinning was just a temporary setback. Now, I barely even have a buzz.”

  “Good. Let’s go back to the motel.”

  ***

  Panic warred with excitement in Tess’s mind as Max took her hand and pulled her down the sidewalk. When they reached their room, he dragged her inside, whipped her around, and pinned her back against the door. His hands dove into her hair, and his mouth, rough and greedy, took hers.

  It was like being swallowed whole. It thrilled her. And frightened her. She fought for control. “Max,” she breathed, when his lips moved to her throat. “We can’t.”

  “The hell we can’t.”

  He ravished her neck. She moaned and shifted her head to give him greater access.

  “You want me as much as I want you, angel. So don’t tell me we can’t,” he said, bringing his mouth back to hers.

  As his tongue plunged inside, her body ignored her mind’s feeble attempts at resistance. Eager to take and be taken, her physical needs simply seized control.

  “In another minute, we won’t have any choice.” His breath ragged, his body holding hers captive against the door, he raised his head and met her eyes. “If you want me to stop, Tess, tell me fast. And make damn sure it’s the truth.”

  Oh God, no. Don’t you dare stop now. The words screamed in her head. Probably showed in her eyes. She wanted him. Wanted this. What was the point of denying it? If tonight was all she had left, at least she’d have this before she died. Giving a low purr in her throat, she wrapped herself around him, molding her body to his, demanding more.

  He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the nearest bed. But before he’d done much more than nuzzle a sigh out of her, someone banged on the door.

  ***

  9:48 p.m., the penthouse apartment of Nick McKenzie, Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Levi abhorred violence. Especially the kind that resulted in bloodshed. Trouble was, most hoodlums didn’t understand anything else. But as much as he hated it, he was damn good at it when he had to be. And to save Tess, he’d do a whole lot more than spill a little blood.

  In the past two days, he’d learned about the Vargas murders, the contract on Tess, and the events at the FBI safe house. He knew she was in southern Baja and that Nick and Tony had flown to La Paz on Wednesday afternoon. And he’d discovered it all without shedding a corpuscle.

  Until now.

  But because he still didn’t know what Nick and Tony were up to, the five men attending the “mee
ting” in the living room of Nick’s penthouse were about to donate some red stuff the hard way.

  Gaining access to the apartment had been a breeze. He’d broken through the fancy locks and security systems without a flicker. After all, he’d been trained by the best.

  He’d set up the meeting so the men arrived in fifteen-minute intervals, thinking they’d been summoned by Tony. As each man came through the door, Levi met him with a Colt .45, relieved him of his weapons and encrypted cell phone, tied his hands behind his back, and shoved him into a chair. The only response the five men got to their outraged questions—and vicious threats—was a smile.

  When everyone was assembled, Levi grabbed a chair for himself and positioned it so he faced the group. He studied them—five hardened criminals with animal cunning and street smarts enough to make them less-than-easy prey. Tough, brave, and loyal to Nick and Tony, none of them would cooperate unless forced. Levi sighed. He detested this next part, even though he had a doctor waiting across the street in the coffee shop.

  “Okay boys, here’s the deal. You’ve got a choice. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But either way we do it, you will tell me what I want to know.”

  They glanced at each other and glared at Levi but didn’t speak.

  “Nick and Tony are up to something,” he continued. “And I’m sure you know what’s going on.”

  The men squirmed but, other than a few choice swear words, still said nothing. Popping the magazine out of his pistol, Levi showed them it was full then jammed it back in and screwed a silencer on the end of the barrel.

  “Since a friend’s life is in danger, I don’t have the time to be gentle. None of you will die tonight, but you’ll all bloody well wish you had.” He looked each man in the eyes. “Anyone want to come clean and save yourself some pain?”

  No response.

  “I didn’t think so.” Shaking his head, he got up and walked toward one of the men. “Okay, Darrell, why don’t we start with you?”

  ***

  9:49 p.m., Su Casa Motel, La Paz, Baja California Sur:

  Another thud landed on the motel room door. Max motioned for Tess to freeze then eased off the bed. Grateful he was still dressed, he slipped his pistol from his waistband, crept to the window, and peeked out through the split in the curtains.

  Tess edged up beside him. “Who is it?”

  “Quiet,” he hissed, though her voice had been so low he’d barely heard her.

  By the light of a quarter moon, he saw a man standing at their door. Max frowned as images flashed through his mind—not of this man, but of others with the same black hair, dark skin, and narrow, pointed features. Max didn’t need the hair prickling on the back of his neck to tell him it was a good thing he’d been too distracted to bother turning on the lights when he and Tess got back to the room.

  The man pounded a third time. Then he rattled the knob, cursed in Farsi, and walked next door.

  Max breathed a small sigh of relief as the man spoke briefly with the occupants of the neighboring room, showed them something that looked like a photograph, and then moved on to the next door in line.

  “Whoever he is, he’s going door to door.” Easing away from the window, Max sat back on his heels. “Showing a picture. Searching for someone specific.”

  “Probably me,” she said. “This guy looks like someone who showed up at my cottage yesterday.”

  “This man showed up at your house?”

  “No. Another guy, with same type of coloring and sharp facial features as this one. He knocked on my door yesterday morning, but I didn’t answer it because I didn’t know who he was.”

  “Good. That’s smart.”

  “But if he’s looking for me, why would you recognize him? Because you looked like you did.”

  “I didn’t recognize him, just that he wasn’t a friend. He cursed in Farsi. And since people usually swear in their native tongue, I’d say he’s Middle Eastern. He looked it.”

  “You speak Farsi?”

  “Apparently. I understand the swear words, anyway.” He rose and put his pistol on the table. “By the way, I thought I told you to stay put while I checked it out.”

  “No, you didn’t. You just made a hand gesture. One that could’ve meant anything.” She sat on the edge of the bed only to jump up again and pace the room. “And if you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t much care for following orders.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” He doubted her sudden nervousness had anything to do with the man who’d knocked on their door. Imagining what they’d be doing right now if they hadn’t been interrupted, he swore under his breath. “You change your mind about wanting me, angel?”

  “No.” She stopped pacing and faced him. “Not really.”

  “Not really?” he asked, stepping toward her.

  She moved back. “I just—” She linked her fingers then pulled them apart and ran them through her hair. “I’m afraid of what will happen when you get your memory back.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about it.” Reminding himself to go slow, he walked to her, relieved when she didn’t scramble away, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Afraid I’ll turn on you?”

  She shook her head. “Afraid you’re taken.”

  Cupping her face with his hands, he kissed her gently. “I think I’d know if I was taken, Tess. In my flashes of memory, and the things I sense about myself, there’s nothing that says I am.” His lips moved to her throat, and she trembled. It thrilled him. “I need you,” he murmured. “Don’t let what might be, ruin what is.” He brought his mouth back to hers then gripped the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it off over her head along with her T-shirt. Brushing his thumbs over the lace at the top of her bra, he watched her eyes. “Tell me you want me.”

  “I do.”

  “Then show me.”

  As her arms came around his neck, he lowered his head again. Her soft moan of surrender shot straight to his loins. Forcing himself to be gentle, he deepened the kiss. He wanted to please her, to let her know she mattered. His hands stroked her shoulders and back, teased through her hair, and fisted there as his mouth devoured hers. Taking his time, he undressed them both, always keeping his lips in contact with her skin. As he slid her panties down, the hunger sliced through him like a knife.

  When he led her back to the bed, she hesitated. “What if that man comes back?”

  “I’ll shoot him in the head.” He scooped her up and laid her on the bedspread. “Trust me, Tess. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  “Even you?”

  “Hurting you’s the last thing I want to do.” He ran his tongue over her nipple. Heard her moan. “This shouldn’t hurt a bit,” he murmured and drew the peak into his mouth.

  She was lithe and slim, her skin as soft as silk. Her lovely curves drew his hands like magnets. Her hair fanned out around her head like a pool of fragrant water, shining in the moonlight that slipped through the gap in the curtains.

  “You’re beautiful, angel. Absolutely perfect.”

  His hands roamed over her while his tongue stroked and teased. Had he ever had anyone more responsive? he wondered as she came alive beneath him. Bolts of pleasure zipped through him at the taste of her skin. So he nibbled her everywhere. Her body was a banquet. He feasted. Crying out his name, she convulsed then lay limp and trembling.

  He felt like a conqueror. The blood roared in his brain, and the urge to possess her overwhelmed him. Pulling out a condom—and thanking God he’d bought some when she sent him for new clothes—he slipped it on.

  Her hips rose to meet him, welcoming him as he plunged inside her. Home was the word that ran through his mind. I’m home. With slow, deep thrusts, he built her fires again and watched her rise from need to pleading and desperation then shatter beneath him. As her eyes glazed over, he surrendered to his own release.

  ***

  Stunned, Tess snuggled against Max while their bodies cooled. She’d never imagined making love could be like this. Nick had bee
n her only other lover, and obviously he’d been a selfish one.

  Figured.

  Her whole body purred with satisfaction. She stretched, wondering how soon they could do it again.

  “You know.” Max’s breath ruffled her hair. “When I got just the one room, I was actually planning to protect you, not seduce you. Of course, that plan didn’t last long.”

  “So then what just happened was Plan B?”

  “Apparently so,” he agreed with a chuckle. “You should always have a Plan B.”

  “This one worked for me.” Her conscience kicked her in the ribs, and she let out a long, hard sigh. “What’s going to happen when you get your memories back and find out you’re married and have six kids?”

  His sigh echoed hers. “Then I’ll probably feel guilty as hell.” He rolled her over, kissed her forehead, and started migrating kisses over her face, his breath a soft breeze on her skin. His lips moved to her neck, sending shivers of ecstasy up her spine. “I want you, Tess. Way too much.”

  She uttered a small moan of pleasure as he brushed his lips over her shoulder. “So it doesn’t bother you that this situation may be painful and complicated when you finally ‘wake up’?” she asked, forcing herself to concentrate despite the sensations assaulting her. “I don’t want to cause you grief.”

  “There’s already plenty waiting for me when my memories return. I can feel it just under the surface, trying to break through.”

  “That may be true, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t worry about causing you more.”

  “Hush,” he murmured, raining kisses on her stomach. “You’re worth whatever consequences come up when they do.”

  As he traced flaming patterns on her skin with his tongue, she raked her fingernails over his shoulders and made him groan. Working his way back up, he treated her mouth to tender, nibbling kisses that nearly drove her insane.

  “You’re here. You’re now,” he whispered. “And that’s enough.”