Midnight Target

by Elle Kennedy

  “No. Not acceptable,” the boss snapped. “Next idea.”

  Ash cast a plea for help in Noelle’s direction but she busily avoided his gaze. Awesome. Looked like he was on his own here. “Then we get Isabel or Juliet to pretend to be Cate.”

  Morgan rolled that suggestion around in his head before nodding in approval. “Better. Let’s talk to Juliet about it. I don’t think Isabel’s head is in the game right now.” He turned toward his wife. “You’re too quiet. You don’t like this plan?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She and Jim stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable beat of silence until she spoke. “I don’t have anything to say that you want to hear.”

  Morgan frowned.

  With a shrug, she ground her cigarette butt into the tray and pushed to her feet. Gliding over to her husband, she captured his lips in a long, thorough kiss before backing away. “I’ll talk to Juliet. I’m sure she’ll be okay with this plan. One of you”—she waved a finger between the two men—“get to have the fun task of telling Cate she’s being left behind. Again.”

  Ash stood up too, hoping to sneak back to the barracks before Cate came downstairs. As much as he didn’t want her in danger, he also felt like she’d earned the right to be part of this op, and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her she was out.

  “Wait a second, David.”

  He halted. David, huh?

  The last time Morgan had used his given name was after a hairy mission when plans A through D had to be abandoned and they’d ended up shooting their way out of a safe house in Istanbul. After they’d made it to safety, their skin barely intact, Morgan had grabbed Ash by the shoulder and said, “You’re a goddamned good soldier, David. Proud to have you as part of the team.” And Ash had damn near hugged the man because he’d never heard the word proud used in conjunction with his name.

  “Yes, sir?”

  Morgan made a face at Ash’s use of sir. The other man had never liked that. Said it made him feel old. “Cate listens to you. If I go to her, she’ll accuse me of treating her like a child and then she’ll do something we’ll all regret.”

  “All due respect, sir, but I think her response to me will be the same.”

  Morgan shot him a cool gaze. “It’s different with you, though, isn’t it?”

  Ash felt an uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck. Shit. Did Morgan know about them? Had Noelle said something?

  “In what way?”

  “You really want me to spell it out?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  That earned him a cold look. “All right, then. Cate’s always had a crush on you.” Morgan shrugged. “So use that to get her to sit her ass at home.”

  “That’s a little low, isn’t it?” he said stiffly.

  “Better to be underhanded than have a dead daughter.”

  With that, Morgan turned his gaze toward the jungle beyond the railing. The conversation was over. Ash was dismissed.

  And for the first time in a long time, he felt like that piece of dirt under someone’s shoe. Only this time, it wasn’t a bunch of folks from Peterville, Tennessee, whose opinion he couldn’t give two shits about. It was the man he looked up to as a mentor, a father figure.

  As his insides twisted in resentment, Ash curled his fingers into fists and then spun on his heel and walked into the house.

  He didn’t know why, but it felt like he was walking away from the only life he’d ever really cared about.

  * * *

  Cate heard his boots again and wondered for the second time in twenty-four hours if the heavy treads were a warning. When Ash was training or out in the field, he moved soundlessly, all quiet sinewy muscle and lethal grace.

  That she could hear him outside her door told her that his guard was down, that his warrior facade was slipping.

  Last night she’d been on the verge of opening the door to him but her emotions had been too raw. She’d sat with Jim for an hour before Noelle came in to take her place, and from the hushed conversation between Jim and his wife, Cate knew that Noelle had been filling him in on everything that had gone down. She had no doubt that Jim and Noelle were planning a retaliation strike against Rivera—and she had no illusions that those plans would involve her in any way.

  She’d be kept here at the compound under armed guard, a prisoner in her own home, until Rivera was caught and killed. The children had already been spirited away and once the rest of the team was dispatched to do their jobs, it would be her, a few guards, a mountain of C-4, and, if the walls were ever breached, an extended stay in the panic room.

  She’d been down in that steel-lined two-room bunker once and didn’t care to repeat the experience. No matter how safe it was intended to be, she still felt suffocated down there. There were no windows. Only a toilet with the tiniest drain, a hand shower, and enough army rations to feed a person for a year.

  A survivalist heaven.

  But Cate didn’t want to survive; she wanted to live.

  She dropped her face in her hands and wondered what she had to do to make her father understand that whatever life he’d dreamed up for her wasn’t the one she wanted. Not now, and not ever.

  Thump thump.

  When Ash’s boots passed her room again, Cate lifted her head and grumbled at the door. “If you’re here to convince me that you guys don’t need me, take your sad song elsewhere. I’m not in the mood and I already know all of the lyrics by heart.”

  “I’m not here for that.”

  Cate imagined him leaning one arm against the door, shaking his head wearily. “What are you here for, then?”

  “Open up.”

  “Tell me first,” she insisted, but her feet had hit the floor and she was standing.

  “Open up, Cate.”

  The firm command had her gliding across the tile. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  She pulled the door open and raised a brow at his disheveled appearance. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. His dark hair was tousled, his jaw was coated with dark stubble, and his green eyes lacked that usual glint of energy.

  Ash placed one big hand on her waist and marched her backward, closing the door with one booted heel.

  “Do you still have the pen I gave you?”

  She made a face. “What?”

  “The night I visited you at Brown . . . I gave you a pen. Do you still have it?”

  Cate wished she could say no, but that would be a lie. The damn thing was in the bottom of her backpack. She brought it everywhere she went.

  “It was the worst gift I’ve ever received,” she said bluntly.

  The corner of his mouth curved up. “I don’t doubt it, but I didn’t ask whether you liked it. I asked if you still had it.”

  He touched her face and the palm of his hand burned hot against the side of her cheek. Or maybe she was the one burning him. His eyes had darkened to forest green, revealing so much naked need that it took her breath away.

  They weren’t talking about a pen. She knew that. He was asking her to jump and telling her he’d catch her. And as terrifying as that prospect was, there’d always been such a huge hole in her heart.

  She wanted to fill it up with Ash.

  “I still have it,” she whispered.

  In an instant, his mouth crashed down on hers. She tasted the morning on his tongue, fresh and new. She felt midnight between his legs, dark and heavy. With one move, he picked her up and spread her thighs until she was forced to cling to him as he walked her back to the bed.

  His mouth never left hers. Not while he kicked off his boots. Not while his fingers found the elastic of her shorts and pushed them clear of her legs. Not while his hands tore at her T-shirt until it lay in two ragged lengths on either side of her chest. Not while he positioned his cock at her entrance and thrust forward with so much power she had to throw
up her hands against the wall to prevent from going through it.

  He just kept kissing her like he’d stop breathing if her mouth wasn’t glued to his, and Cate wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his hips, and hung on. He plunged into her with furious, hard strokes. He was reckless and rough and she loved it.

  She felt him everywhere. Beneath her heels, his ass cheeks clenched with every thrust. The muscles in his shoulders rippled as his whole body worked against hers. She kissed him back with an equal amount of ferociousness until the pleasure became so intense, she couldn’t hold that contact for a second longer.

  Her entire body bowed off the bed with the force of her release, and even then he didn’t stop. He pounded into her and Cate could feel him struggling for control. His hips drove into hers while his hands pushed her down, as if he simultaneously wanted to come right this minute and hold off for as long as possible.

  The former won out and Ash buried his face in her neck with a shudder. “Coming,” he groaned.

  She lay there under him, feeling his heart thundering against hers. He hadn’t used a condom—again—and a warm trickle slid along the insides of her thighs. The rest of her hadn’t come out unscathed either. Her lips were kissed raw and her nipples were abraded from rubbing against the wall of his hard chest.

  She felt bruised and used and it was glorious.

  Sighing happily, Ash rolled over, taking her with him, refusing to let her go. They remained like that for a long time, silent and joined.

  “We need to talk,” he said finally.

  She closed her eyes in frustration. Couldn’t she be allowed to enjoy this bliss for a few moments? She wasn’t ready to face reality. Not after that earth-shattering experience.

  “I thought men were supposed to be worn out after sex. Like aren’t you supposed to be asleep by now?”

  He captured her hand and brought it up to his mouth. “Is that your experience? Low energy guys who pass out after the first orgasm? No wonder you’re willing to have a repeat with me.”

  “You’re right. I’m definitely only with you because of my shitty past experiences.”

  “Let’s not talk about your past experiences,” he said, and his voice was a little tight.

  Cate smiled in girlish pleasure at the sign of jealousy. “Let’s not talk at all,” she countered.

  “No, we need to. I . . .” He hesitated.

  “You what?”

  “I . . .” Ash’s fist clenched against her thigh. “Fuck, I don’t know. I thought I could say it, but . . .”

  “Say what?”

  He was silent for so long she wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then he made a frustrated sound and said, “Forget it. I’ve got nothing to talk about.”

  “Good.” She grinned. “Then let’s take a shower together.”

  Shower sex was high on her fantasy list of things to do with Ash, a list she’d spent years crafting. Maybe they could knock a few of them off today. She wanted to give him a blow job. She wanted him to bend her over the kitchen counter. She wanted—

  “Actually, I have a better idea,” she blurted out. “Let’s go to the grotto.”

  But she knew that the suggestion was dumb even before it left her mouth. Even before he sighed and said, “No.” Then, to her irritation, he shifted and sat up. “I didn’t come up here for this. I spoke to Jim and . . .” He stopped again.

  The warm glow of the sex was rapidly wearing off. She reached for the corner of her comforter and tried to cover herself up.

  And that was when she realized that Ash still had his pants on. He’d ditched his shirt, but his pants he’d just pushed down to his thighs.

  Wonderful. While she’d been crafting odes to the best sex of her life, Ash was still wearing his damn pants. The absurdity of it triggered a hysterical laugh.

  Ignoring his mystified expression, she hopped off the bed and pointed to the door. “Time for you to go.”

  “What?” His confusion turned into shock.

  “I can smell your guilt, Ash.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “For fuck’s sake, of course I’m going to feel guilty. Morgan just woke up from a coma and I’m up here with his daughter doing stuff he definitely does not want me to do.”

  She flinched. “Is that all I am to you? Jim’s daughter?”

  “No,” he said hastily. “Of course not.”

  Cate didn’t believe him. She marched over to the door and threw it open, uncaring that she was buck-naked. “Get out.”

  “Sugar—”

  “Don’t sugar me! I mean it, Ash, get out.”

  “Why?” He was visibly frustrated as he yanked his pants up to his hips.

  “Because when I’m with a guy, I don’t want my dad in bed with us!”

  It was his turn to flinch. “Cate . . .”

  “I swear to God, if you don’t leave right now, I’m going downstairs and telling Jim how you just fucked his daughter.” Bitterness scraped her throat as she swallowed. “And you certainly don’t want that, do you? You’d rather sacrifice your life, your happiness, than upset my father. You’d rather see me upset than put so much as a frown on that man’s face.”

  Ash’s features creased. “That’s not true.”

  “Like hell it isn’t. Jim Morgan always comes first with you.” She pressed her lips together to stop a sob. Her chest was throbbing so painfully it became hard to breathe, but she managed a quick, ragged exhale. “And Cate Morgan . . . God, that poor, stupid girl never stood a chance.”

  Chapter 30

  Ash had no idea how he managed to attend the afternoon briefing without breaking down in front of everyone. But somehow, some way, he found the strength to keep his cool. To adopt a vacant expression. To ignore the state of agony that Cate’s dismissal had put him in.

  He’d gone upstairs earlier to try to talk to her about Morgan, to tell her that she was going to be left behind again. Instead, he’d gotten distracted by lust. And then, when he had the opportunity to tell her, he’d chickened out.

  He couldn’t do that to her, damn it. He couldn’t shut her out, not when he truly believed that she’d earned the right to be part of this mission.

  Morgan, however, was determined to deny her that right. As the briefing unfolded, Cate was turning to stone before their collective eyes. Each word that came out of Morgan’s mouth turned her as hard as the marble that made up the terrace floor.

  But Morgan was oblivious to the rage that was building up inside his daughter. As various suggestions for finding Rivera were tossed out and shot down, not once did he mention Cate, even though every single one of his people had glanced her way at some point in the conversation.

  “So everyone’s going but you and me,” Cate muttered when her father was done talking.

  “That’s right. We’ll have some alone time.” He gave her a halfhearted smile, which earned him nothing but a disdainful glare.

  Ash couldn’t remember the last time his boss had misread a situation so poorly. Or maybe Morgan wasn’t misreading it but intentionally ignoring Cate’s unspoken demands for recognition.

  It was a mistake, though. Why couldn’t Jim see that he was losing her?

  Panic hit Ash square in the chest when he saw the frustration in Cate’s eyes give way to resignation. Oh fuck. They were all going to lose her. She wasn’t going to fight Morgan any longer.

  Instead, she was going to leave.

  In the four years they’d known each other, she’d told Ash more than once that she was tired of everyone leaving her behind. She’d admitted to constantly feeling abandoned—by her mother, who’d died before she was born; by her grandfather, who was supposed to love her but had kept her from her father; by Jim, who’d taken her in and then refused to value her in the same way he valued the members of his team. Maybe even by Ash himself, who’d chosen Morgan�
�s loyalty over Cate’s schoolgirl love.

  Back then he’d believed what Morgan had preached—that Cate deserved to find a normal rich boy and live a normal, privileged life.

  Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wasn’t sure of anything other than he couldn’t live without her. But he didn’t know how to tell her that. Or if she’d even believe him or want to hear it.

  Sure, she’d slept with him, but that didn’t mean shit. Ash had slept with lots of women and not one of them had triggered a second thought. Cate, on the other hand, had lived in his head, and his heart, for nearly half a decade.

  But he wasn’t sure she felt the same about him.

  “Actually . . .”

  Cate’s calm, even voice jolted him back to the present.

  “Your alone time is going to have to be just that—alone time.” She walked over to her father and leaned down to brush a kiss against his cheek. She did the same with Noelle, kissing her lightly, before moving toward the patio doors. “I’ll text you when I get there.”

  “When you get where?” Morgan asked sharply. “Where’re you going?”

  “I’m packing. And then,” she paused with a hand on the doorjamb, “I don’t know. I’ll text you when I get there,” she repeated.

  Morgan rose unsteadily to his feet. He’d already been pale from his injuries, but now his face was as white as the bandage on the back of his neck.

  “Cate. I’ve gone easy on you. I let you traipse around the country taking photos and putting yourself in situations that result in stuff like this.”

  Stuff like this?

  From across the table, Ethan threw Ash an incredulous look. At the railing, Liam and Sully shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Juliet, who was leaning against the pillar near the door, looked ready to throttle Morgan.

  And Cate . . . well, she went ballistic.

  “Stuff like this?” she yelled. “Like this? This happened a grand total of once!”

  She thrust her index finger upright, though Ash didn’t think it was the one she really wanted to wave at Morgan.

  “I’m not the one putting myself in constant danger,” she ranted. “I’m not the one who runs toward guns. I’m not the one whose entire life is spent with one finger on the trigger.”