Submit (The Underground Book 4)

by Becca Jameson

  Nikolav stared after him, wincing at the not-so-unrealistic joke. Maybe Abram thought it was amusing, but Nikolav wasn’t sure there was anything funny about what might be running through his veins.

  If there was a remote possibility there was any validity to the concept, then Nikolav wanted Yenin hunted down and answers squeezed out of him.

  And likewise, under the assumption he had done some sort of experimenting on the fighters or Haley, then Belinda was in more danger than any of them could imagine.

  »»•««

  Anton Yenin leaned back in his desk chair, set his elbows on the surface of the desk, and steepled his fingers, tapping them together. “What do you have for me?” he asked his new lab tech, Jorge Montego. The guy had been with him a week, but already he was a valuable asset to the project.

  Anton never should have hired his last man, Ted Christianson. The guy had been a liability from the beginning. He had a real job that kept him from devoting enough time to Anton’s project.

  Besides, the asshole had gotten himself killed.

  Jorge had an apartment inside the lab Anton ran on the outskirts of Chicago and no reason to leave. Anton brought him into the country from Colombia, and the guy had no family in the US. He was a safer option all around.

  “Initial results would indicate Number Seventeen is responding as expected to the second phase.” Jorge stood in the doorway grinning. His dark hair hung low on his forehead, in need of a cut. And the guy repeatedly ran his hand through it in a futile effort to keep it off his face.

  “Excellent. Blood work?”

  “Exactly as you presumed.”

  Anton smiled. He liked good news.

  “Were you able to get the culture I gave you to Number Thirteen?”

  Anton nodded. “Yes. And it would seem she too passed the test. I can’t be sure she or the man living with her definitely ate the tainted hummus, but the other woman with them did. I’ll bet she spent a good twelve hours vomiting Saturday night.”

  Jorge winced, his eyes squeezed together, but a smile pulled at his lips. “I’m not usually the kind of guy who derives pleasure in hearing about a sick person, but in this case, I’d call that a success.”

  “You and me both, Jorge. Anyone else showing signs of surviving the first phase?”

  Jorge frowned. “No. Not one. I’m sorry.”

  “I need to you figure out what the common denominator is. What do Haley Sullivan and your Number Seventeen have in common that no other person in the experiment matches? I need that information. And I need it yesterday. Got it?”

  Jorge gritted his teeth. “Working on it, but it would be a lot simpler if I had Ms. Sullivan, Number Thirteen, here in the lab for comparison.”

  “And I’m working on that end.”

  Jorge nodded, tapped the door, and turned around to walk down the hall.

  Anton needed to touch base with his informants from the FBI and ensure they were on schedule to get their hands on Haley Sullivan that evening. Millings and Dayton had proved invaluable. Any conscientious bone they might have had working for the FBI had flown out the window when Anton offered them an extraordinary sum to keep him informed of the FBI’s every movement and ensure he got what he needed.

  He knew he was putting a lot of pressure on them to recover that woman tonight, but it was imperative she be brought back into the lab. His own greedy stupidity had caused her to escape his clutches.

  It wouldn’t happen again. He could and would keep his dick under control the next time around. But he needed that woman. Her very existence could mean the difference between putting the last pieces of the puzzle together and the total destruction of the mission.

  Anton didn’t intend to fail.

  He closed his eyes and winced as he remembered his own father’s failing health. Grigory Yenin had ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease, and he had been fighting pneumonia for weeks. He’d personally spearheaded this entire project more than twenty years ago. It would be a shame if he died without seeing it to completion.

  Chapter Five

  At five o’clock that evening, Nikolav paced the lobby of the homeless shelter where Haley worked while he waited for Mikhail to inform Haley and Belinda how things were going to go down.

  The three of them were in Haley’s office somewhere in the building. An agent with the FBI had brought Belinda from her office to the shelter. The woman had no idea yet that not only was Nikolav waiting out front for her to emerge, but he intended to stick to her like glue for the foreseeable future.

  He prayed she had changed into whatever street clothes she’d brought with her that morning in her bag. If she came out front wearing the sexy pencil skirt and those come-fuck-me heels, his cock wouldn’t be able to take it. Besides, she would look ridiculous roaming the streets of Chicago dressed for a day in court.

  Voices behind him had him spinning around to find Mikhail leading Haley and Belinda toward the front door.

  Belinda was indeed dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. On a normal person, she might have looked average. But not Belinda. The jeans…Jesus. They hugged her hips and thighs as if they were custom made for her body. He would probably swallow his tongue when he got a glimpse of her ass encased in them.

  And that damn T-shirt was white and hugged her breasts perfectly. The lace bra underneath was visible through the thin cotton, and her nipples were tight points that couldn’t be contained beneath either layer.

  Everyone owned jeans and white T-shirts. Not everyone looked as smoking hot as Belinda did in them. And besides, not one piece of her clothing was ordinary. Every item was expensive. Her jeans were designer. Her T-shirt was top of the line. Even the lace bra underneath probably cost a fortune.

  If she thought she could blend in on the streets, she was sadly mistaken.

  Nikolav took a deep breath as she stepped forward. Yeah, he was in trouble. If he had any doubts during the day, they were obliterated with one quick glance at Belinda Gallo. Five hours at the gym had done nothing to kick her out of his mind.

  Belinda only glanced at him, a smile on her lips and a nod of her head. And then she looked away. Flushed?

  He pursed his lips to contain his reaction. Did he make her nervous?

  Good.

  She tucked her fingers into the back pocket of her jeans as the three of them stopped in front of him. The act might have been to give her something to do with her hands, but it also stretched her shirt tighter against her chest and lifted her breasts higher.

  He almost moaned. Visions of commanding her to clasp her hands behind her back or neck to display her tits for him like that made him shuffle his feet and adjust his cock, hopefully subtly.

  The woman had no idea what she did to him.

  He bit the inside of his cheek when she licked her lips to speak. “Hi.” The one word was almost inaudible. Was she embarrassed?

  “Just so we’re all clear,” Mikhail said, “Nik and I will be right with you two at all times. We’ll take my Jeep.”

  “If you hover too close, you’ll make people nervous,” Haley reminded him. “Don’t make me want to punch you.”

  He chuckled. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

  He pushed open the front door. Haley followed on his heels, Belinda behind her. Nikolav took up the rear, nearly swallowing his tongue when he got the first glimpse of Belinda’s ass.

  Those jeans should be illegal. And in his mind, they would be. This was the last time Belinda would find herself in public wearing painted-on denim that would make every man and woman they passed do a double take. She didn’t have a jacket with her. It was unseasonably warm for late fall, and half of Nikolav wished that weren’t the case.

  He had to shake thoughts of dominating her from his head. She wasn’t his to tell what to do. He’d find himself with a heap of problems if he prematurely attempted to control this woman and what she wore.

  Nikolav sat in the back of the Jeep with Belinda, leaving the front for Haley next to Mikhail. Luckily, he didn’t have to make co
nversation because Mikhail spent the entire drive giving Haley orders and glancing in the rearview mirror every once in a while to make sure Belinda knew his directions applied to her too.

  Mikhail was domineering. It wasn’t a secret, obviously not even to Haley at this point. He had taken over her life three weeks ago when he rescued her from Yenin’s people. Based on Mikhail’s mannerisms and word choice, there was little doubt by now that he was sleeping with Haley.

  And for Mikhail, that meant dominating her. It was in his blood same as Nikolav’s. There was no way the man would climb into Haley’s bed unless she submitted to him.

  Maybe spending years in the underground fighting world had formed the six of them in some way. Or perhaps watching how Yenin treated his women. Though that alone could have had the opposite result since the asshole was over the top—going so far as to beat his victims into submission and then raping them.

  Nikolav shuddered. What the six of them had learned from that was a deep level of respect for the female population. He still liked to dominate in the bedroom, but not without consent and not with an unwilling partner who didn’t scream out to beg him to fuck them.

  He watched Belinda closely as they drove. She was nervous. She fidgeted, struggled to breathe, flushed easily, bit her lips, and had trouble meeting his gaze.

  He’d never been more attracted to a woman. It didn’t deter him that nerves ate at her. It was sexy. She also smiled every time she met his gaze and leaned his way when they rounded a corner, setting her hand on the seat between them to brace herself.

  For as much as they’d talked that morning, this evening she had assumed a more demure stance. Because her friend was in the front seat? Or because after taking time to think about him, she saw him differently?

  He let his gaze roam up and down her body.

  Her nipples were hard points, and she kept wiping her palms on her thighs. Every time she squirmed next to him, he wondered if her pussy was as wet as he imagined.

  God, he hoped she was submissive. There was a good chance he was right.

  When the car stopped under the L west of Chicago, Nikolav forced his attention to Mikhail and their safety. Mikhail twisted in his seat to face all three of them at once. “I’m not kidding. There are agents watching us, but if I sense anything not right, we’re getting back in this car and leaving. Are we clear?” He met Haley’s gaze and then Belinda’s. “It’s not worth anyone’s life to pass out sandwiches or get a good story.”

  Haley nodded. “Got it.”

  He narrowed his gaze and then leaned forward to wrap a possessive hand behind her neck, drawing her face close to his. “Do not make me regret this decision.”

  She nodded again.

  They exited the car from the driver’s side, both women sliding out after the men.

  Nikolav forced himself to pay attention to their surroundings and keep his mind off Belinda. He needed to think of her as someone put under his protection and stop planning the many ways he would like to fuck her.

  He’d only known her a day. He kept reminding himself that most of that time she’d been sicker than a dog. Even though she had all the outward signs of being affected by him this evening in the ways he liked in a woman, they hadn’t known each other long enough to be sure.

  He needed to get his head in the game, keep his hands to himself, and pull his mind out of the gutter.

  Haley led the way across the street with Belinda at her side.

  Nikolav hung back with Mikhail, keeping several yards between them and the women while glancing around.

  The thing that made his spine stiffen was knowing several people were definitely watching—both good guys and bad—and there was nothing he could do about it but stay diligent.

  He glanced around constantly while Haley and Belinda kneeled in front of a man Haley obviously knew well. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the man spoke animatedly with fear in his eyes.

  When the man set his hand on Haley’s forearm, Mikhail took a step closer. The guy wore crazy-looking, lime-green, knitted gloves with the fingers cut off. His filthy beard did nothing to hide the fact he was missing several teeth.

  Haley didn’t flinch. She was obviously in her element. Helping the homeless was her job. Her life. It ran in her blood. She’d been raised by parents who carted her all over the world doing humanitarian work her entire childhood.

  Belinda remained right at Haley’s shoulder the entire time, leaning in to listen intently to the man speaking to them. She nodded often and reached out to touch his shoulder once.

  When the women were finished talking to the man sitting on the ground, Haley handed him a packet from her satchel and the women stood.

  As they turned to step farther down the street, the hair on the back of Nikolav’s neck stood on end one second before the ground shook. The deafening sound of an explosion nearby sent him leaping forward to close the distance between him and the women.

  Mikhail did the same, grabbing Haley by the hand and turning away from the epicenter.

  Nikolav had a hold of Belinda’s small hand at the same moment, following Mikhail in a mad dash down the street. He glanced several times at Belinda, whose eyes were wide with fear, her mouth open as she gasped for air.

  She twisted around to look behind them, but Nikolav shouted over the screaming crowd. “Keep running.”

  She didn’t meet his gaze, but followed his instructions.

  His heart pounded. Why did they ever think this was a good idea?

  To be honest, neither he nor Mikhail had liked this plan to visit the homeless, but the women had been insistent. In the end, the FBI had agreed to the idea, so Nikolav knew they were in the area and probably following right on their heels.

  Leo Gulin had spoken to his contact at the FBI and explained the situation. Mikhail had spoken to Taylor—the agent who’d been assigned to this case. It made Nikolav’s skin crawl to think there was every possibility the FBI had used them to draw out the bad guys.

  What were the chances an explosion happened to occur close to where the four of them were standing? Slim.

  He ran hard, keeping up with Mikhail, and was surprised Belinda was able to do the same at his side. Thank God she’d worn tennis shoes. No way would he let go of her hand, but he was impressed with her ability to run so hard, especially after being as sick as she had been yesterday. Adrenaline could do that to a person.

  When Mikhail rounded a corner and plastered himself against the side of a building, Nikolav did the same.

  Belinda came to a stop, nearly running into him. She wrapped one arm around his bicep as if holding on for dear life. She breathed heavily. “Shit. What the hell was that?”

  “Must be a terrorist attack,” Haley responded.

  “Don’t bet on it.” Mikhail peered around the corner.

  “Fuck.” Nikolav watched as four masked men emerged from the smoky film of falling debris, running full speed toward their huddle. They wore all black and held guns at their sides.

  Mikhail slapped a hand on Nikolav’s shoulder. “You take Belinda. I’ll take Haley. Let’s split up. Don’t stop moving.”

  Nikolav nodded, grabbing Belinda once again by the hand and turning to the left to keep running in the opposite direction of Mikhail.

  Belinda let out a small scream as she followed him. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” She ran harder than before.

  Thank goodness because Nikolav wasn’t sure what he would do if she panicked and couldn’t keep moving. He wouldn’t hesitate to pick her up and carry her, but it was much easier this way.

  She squeezed his hand firmly, her shorter legs moving faster than his.

  When he glanced over his shoulder, he found one man on their tail. But the guy was losing ground, hindered by the growing crowd filing out of every open doorway to see what had happened.

  The worst part was knowing that meant three men had followed Mikhail and Haley. Dammit.

  Suddenly, a car swerved to a stop right next to Nikolav, and
a man yelled out the window. “Get in.”

  Fear shot through Nikolav’s chest. Fuck. Who was this guy?

  The car continued to roll at a slow pace, keeping up with Nik and Belinda.

  “Nikolav, get in. Before that asshole catches up.”

  Nik glanced at the man driving the nondescript black sedan again and found him holding his badge up.

  FBI.

  Of course.

  Belinda came to a stop, seeming to decide to follow the man’s instructions before Nikolav. She yanked the rear passenger door open and darted into the vehicle.

  Nikolav had no choice but to leap in behind her and yank the door closed, praying the driver was indeed with the FBI and the two of them hadn’t made the biggest mistake of their lives.

  The car swerved away from the wrong side of the road again in seconds and sped away from the scene.

  “What the fuck happened?” Nikolav asked.

  “Explosion. Don’t know more right now.” The man glanced over and over in his rearview mirror, seemingly paying little attention to his passengers.

  “Mikhail and Haley?” Nikolav asked, tugging a trembling Belinda into his side.

  “Another agent is on them.” The dark-haired man drove faster, speeding around a corner and then taking the next turn nearly on two wheels.

  Belinda squeaked. “Jesus.” She gripped the back of the seat in front of her, but she couldn’t keep from sliding across the seat into the door.

  Nikolav reached around her to grab the seatbelt and tugged it across her chest before securing it at her side.

  He did the same behind the driver. It left space between the two of them he’d rather not have, but at least they were in less danger in case the man from the FBI managed to get them in an accident.

  Finally, he slowed down and grabbed his phone. In seconds he spoke. “I’ve got two of them… Yes… You’re sure?… Okay.” He set the phone back in his lap and met Nikolav’s gaze briefly in the rearview mirror. “Need to drop you two off and get back to the scene.”

  Nikolav nodded. “Of course.” Where was this man going to leave them?