Angels & Assassins: BWWM Romance

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Angels & Assassins: BWWM Romance Page 19

by K. Alex Walker


  It came to him in his thoughts, his dreams, and in the middle of business meetings whose importance eventually became null. It was there even when he’d tried to escape on boat rides that had only ended with him staring into the blue ocean abyss, wondering about things that he no longer feared.

  Amidst all of that, he’d still done the most inane thing; he’d learned to care again. And, not only had he learned to care, he’d fallen for the woman in front of him. Although he’d fought it and had tried to push it away with endless, arbitrary questioning, it had still happened. Avoiding it was impossible. A man would never win the fight against falling for an incredible woman.

  “Risk?” Tayler’s weakened voice asked.

  “There’s always going to be a risk, Tayler,” Joel explained. “We can’t guarantee protection. What I can guarantee is that the best men we have will be covering your ass.”

  “Explain to me, one more time, how all of this is going to go down,” she requested.

  Gage listened as Joel explained how they would have to allow Tayler to walk into the woods alone. She would be wearing a Kevlar vest, and he showed her the spots on a map where agents would be placed. He reinforced that eyes would be on her at all times with sniper agents trained on the location where Ares’ injured body had been found, and how the children would be extracted.

  “…which includes the possibility of him taking you,” he suddenly said.

  “Not an option,” Gage immediately rebutted.

  “It’s one of the options,” Joel answered. “It’s not the end all be all, but we have to prepare for each scenario. This man isn’t just going to release his bargaining chip and then walk away empty-handed. If that was the case, he would have moved away from Tayler being a target a long time ago.”

  “It’s not one of my options,” Gage argued. “If she gets hurt, so will your agents.”

  “That a threat?” One of the agents spoke up.

  “He doesn’t make threats,” Joel replied. “Look, I’ve met these guys and I’ve learned that it doesn’t make sense to argue with them.”

  “Whatever,” the same agent spat.

  Tayler clamped her hands around Gage’s wrists when she felt him begin to release. “He’s not worth it,” she said. “I know you won’t let me get hurt.”

  “We have about four hours before we have to execute,” Joel announced. “Anybody who needs to rest up, do it now. I want it to be that, by the end of this, we’ve got this guy in custody. I’m tired of chasing his ass all over the United States.”

  The men dispersed to different areas of the house. Tayler rose and walked toward the stairs, quickly letting Gage know that she was going to take a shower and then try to take a short nap. He nodded, but they both knew that he would be up shortly. She was beginning to take on the role of someone who expected to die. Someone who’d made the decision to accept leaving him.

  After everything they’d been through, he didn’t want to believe she would be selfish enough to walk away from him when he wanted her more than need, and needed her more than want. She’d righted his world after everything had been blown to bits, coming to rest in a jumbled pile of memories he’d tried to forget, emotions and feelings that he’d rescinded, obligations that no longer mattered, and people that he’d pushed into a realm of nonexistence. It was selfish of her to already walk away, even mentally, when she knew that there was no existence for him without her.

  *****

  “Hey Papa.” Tayler struggled to retain the normalcy in her voice, even throwing in a little bit of lilt.

  “Hola, my baby,” her father’s voice greeted, older than she’d remembered. “How is everything? I’m so happy to hear your voice.”

  “I’m good, Papa. Everything’s okay. I just missed you, that’s all.”

  “Ah, well you know I’m always here. You can call me anytime. You should call me more.”

  She tried to smile, but her muscles barely generated a spasm. “I know. I will. I just get so busy sometimes.”

  “No worries. My daughter is a doctor. America is sick. I understand. I call my doctor all the time. I doubt he sleeps because I call him so much.”

  She eased onto the mattress. She’d stolen one of Gage’s shirts from his closet in California, a burnt orange collared shirt that she assumed he hadn’t worn in ages. As she fitted her legs underneath her body, the edge of the shirt came up around her thighs.

  “If I were being honest with you, Tayler,” her father began, “you don’t sound so good. Did something happen? Because, remember what I always told you. If anyone breaks your heart, I’ll send someone to break his legs. I still have people I can call.”

  “I think I’m probably just tired,” she lied. “Or coming down with something.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, tell me about your day.”

  She continued to lie to him, telling him about what used to be a normal day at the medical center—her work with patients and families, acting as a liaison with Duke University for their cancer research, and turning down requests to join their faculty. When he asked her about Katia and Anya, she resisted tears as she told him that they were okay. Telling him the truth would only reveal too much of what was happening.

  She’d even told him about how her car had held up. He’d been adamant about her getting a Honda or Toyota so that, over time, she would have “less things to worry about” with her busy schedule, as he’d put it. But, she’d been eyeing a sports car at the time. A zero-to-sixty in three seconds kind of car. At his insistence, she’d settled on the Honda and took this time to pretend that the car’s performance actually took precedence over the things that were truly happening in her life.

  Gage appeared in the bedroom doorway. He scanned her, his eyes revealing a bit of surprise at her chosen attire.

  “I’m glad that, despite the hell that I caused you, you still turned out so well,” her father said with a chuckle. “You’ve got your mother’s strength, that’s for damn sure.”

  “I think it’s a combination of you both. Don’t sell yourself short, old man.”

  He roared a laugh. “I am old now, aren’t I? Ha, well, I enjoy it. It makes people assume I have wisdom. Just the other day, I told a young man it’s not the blades of grass that makes a lawn, it’s the soil.”

  Her brows came together. “Did you mean like it’s the nourishment of the soil that makes the lawn beautiful?”

  “I didn’t mean a damn thing,” he replied, laughing. “But, because I’m old, you should have seen his face. So serious!”

  She burst out laughing, taking in the sound of his mirth at the same time. The lines of Gage’s face softened as he watched her. Standing in the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark jeans was the man she’d fallen for. Silent, mysterious, a bit socially-inhibited but improving, and exquisite.

  “I love you, Papa,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “Al mejor del mundo.”

  “The very best Papa in the world,” he replied. “Your Spanish is getting better. I love you too, mamita. Call me again soon, okay? Maybe tomorrow? Maybe I’ll come visit. I miss the States.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, her throat tight. It was time to hang up. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll plan your visit.”

  She pressed the button to end the call and extended the phone to Gage. “I’m sorry. I called overseas. You’ll probably get an extra charge on your bill.”

  He set it on the bedside table. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to worry him.”

  “You took one of my shirts from my closet?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you think you’d worry him?”

  She took a minute to acclimate to Gage’s abrupt shifts in conversation topics, something she’d attributed to his ability to focus on two completely different things at the same time. It was the same ability she’d noticed that morning with Ares.

  “Because we don’t know what will happen tomorrow, Gage,” she answered. “I didn’t want h
im trying to get over here and making a fuss. It’s just easier this way. Plus, I know better. You won’t let me get hurt.”

  The side of his mouth lifted. “You look good in my shirt.”

  “The only thing it’s missing is your scent.”

  He climbed into bed. She lifted to her knees and straddled him while his hand trailed up her back and into her hair. The other hand slipped into the shirt to cup her bare breast. His fingers found her nipple and squeezed. She leaned forward and bit into his lip, but he groaned and pulled his head away. Somehow, he’d already figured out what she was doing. He knew that she wanted them together one last time in the event that it would never happen again.

  She released the buttons on the shirt and pushed it off her shoulders. His hand gripped her hip as his eyes took in her naked skin.

  “I need you tonight, Gage.”

  She fiddled with his belt, tugged the leather from the loops, and pulled down his jeans until his thick girth bobbed free. Her mouth watered as she remembered the taste and heft of him on her tongue, the sounds he’d made, and the look in his eyes.

  She hovered over him, her bare, warm flesh sliding over his spongy head. “You can trust me,” she said. “And I trust you.”

  His eyes darkened in the way she loved.

  “Plus I did a full work-up on you at the hospital.”

  His brief laugh came across more like a grunt, dry and off-center, yet it still filtered into her, seizing a delicate laugh from her lips as she lowered onto the part of him that fit perfectly inside her. The sensation was as delicious as a prisoner’s last meal.

  His face transformed into a pleasurable grimace. Both hands went to her hips and he leaned forward to take control, but she shook her head.

  “Let me ride you, Gage,” she insisted. He hesitated and she could feel his impending defiance, so she shook her head again. “Please, baby. Let me…”

  The term of endearment was as effective on him as his “sweetheart” had been on her.

  He chained his resistance.

  He slipped in and out of her body, his length slick from her desire for him. She didn’t want to give him up ever. If push came to shove, she would fight. She would fight until very little life was left in her body or air in her lungs. By no means was she a damsel in distress despite the fact that life had still sent her a white knight. However, he was white only by nomenclature. The contrast of his complexion to hers. Everything else about him was deep and dark. Depending on which side of the line one straddled, he could equally be seen as a villain, an executioner, or a miscreant. But, none of that mattered. He was hers, and she was his in every way.

  His thumb found its way between her legs. He grew thicker inside of her. She rode faster, latching onto his forearms. Her lips parted slightly and she tilted her face to the ceiling. He tipped her head forward to look at him instead.

  She was thrust, headfirst, into delirium. She squeezed him as tight, rhythmic contractions threatened to flip her inside out. His eyes never wavered from hers as she shook, taking in the lines of his face as she was split into two.

  He was beautiful. The very first image of him that she’d had was now completely gone. Her old feelings had been forgotten.

  He returned his grasp to the curve of her hip and erupted inside of her, his seed warm and sensual. Their bodies remained joined as his orgasm peaked and waned, then she leaned forward until her chest touched his. He pressed his forearm against her lower back.

  “Do you like Chinese?” he asked.

  She traced the outline of the pair of eyes on his shoulder. “Chinese food? Yeah, why?”

  “After this, I’m taking you on a date.”

  Her smile touched the edges of the earth. “You have to ask me out, Gage.”

  She waited. Nothing came.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me out?” she asked.

  “I thought I did. You’re the one who’s being rude.”

  “How am I being rude?”

  “You didn’t answer.”

  “You didn’t ask an actual ques…never mind. Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

  “Good. You didn’t have a choice, by the way.”

  “Oh, I know,” she replied, joy sweeping over her when she felt his heart beat faster at her acceptance. “I didn’t care for one anyhow.”

  -17-

  Tayler’s stomach felt like there were people on each end engaged in a riveting game of tug-of-war. A migraine had developed at some point in the middle of her nap. Joel had offered her coffee on several different occasions, but all she’d done was stare at him until he walked away. Why he thought she’d be able to hold anything down was beyond her.

  Gage was on edge. She’d been with him long enough to sense it. He would only remain still for a few seconds before he was up and moving again, and he’d avoided looking at her for most of the morning. Even Ares had noticed something was wrong and hadn’t given her more than two feet of space ever since she woke up.

  Droplets appeared and disappeared from her lashes like morning dew. She’d fought throwing up like it was the plague, reminding herself of the two little ones who would be counting on her to save them.

  “Is that too tight?” One of the men asked, situating the heavy bulletproof vest over her chest. Up until that point, her breasts had always been too small. Now as they squeezed against the apparatus, she needed them to be a bit smaller and less noticeable.

  “No.” She could barely breathe. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s too tight,” Gage said, walking over. “But it’s going to stay that way. No more lying. If you can’t hear us,” he tapped where they’d planted a device half the size of a chiclet in her ear, “then you need to say you can’t hear us.”

  She inhaled. “Well, I can hear you just fine.”

  “What about me?” Joel’s voice resounded.

  “I can hear you too, Agent Lattimore.”

  “Good. It’s time.”

  The muscles in her legs turned viscous.

  “Give us a minute,” Gage barked at the room. When the officials didn’t clear out quickly enough, he gave another louder order, and the men exited.

  He pulled her tight to his body. “You’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll have my eyes on you the whole time. I’ll never take them off. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Say you understand, Tayler.”

  “I understand, Gage.”

  “I’ll take a million fucking bullets before I ever let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”

  Her breath caught. “I…I understand.”

  He leaned down and crushed her lips with his. She resisted the urge to cry, gripped him tight and returned the kiss with as much passion as she could possibly give.

  “I’d cry right now if I could,” Joel said into her ear.

  “Shut up, Lattimore,” they both shot back.

  Tayler followed Gage to the back door. He pushed it open and she stood on the line separating the hardwood and the surface of the deck.

  She sucked in a breath until her lungs vibrated with ache, and gave Ares a hard squeeze before she retraced the steps she’d taken the night she’d found him in the woods. Her knees weren’t the steadiest and her heartbeat wasn’t the slowest. She was still fighting the urge to throw up.

  “I’m here.”

  Gage’s voice in her ear meant more than she could have ever imagined.

  Releasing the breath, she crossed over into the woods.

  *****

  Nothing rang through as familiar as Tayler descended into the thicket of trees, shrubs, and dirt. She’d been so distracted looking for Ares that night that she’d never noticed the tree sporting a gash in its trunk, lightning most likely the culprit. She also hadn’t noticed how clear the sound of the water rang through behind her, and how terrifying it was as the sound began to dampen, signaling that she was getting further and further away from safety.

  She’d completely ignored the leaves beneath her shoes that night. The we
ather…what had it felt like? Cool? Crisp? The air now swirling around her hung in the balance between spring and summer. East coast humid with a bit of low-lying fog.

  The fallen log came into view. There was a bit of space beneath the log and the clearing in front of it. She remembered finding Ares there, battered and beaten, and hearing his painful whimpers.

  Something poked awkwardly between the space. It was something that resembled a dirty cloth, and as she drew nearer, she realized that it was a brownish-grey blanket.

  She peered behind the log. The top of the two children’s heads were barely visible from beneath the blanket, their faces caked in dirt.

  “Oh God, they’re here,” she cried, kneeling over them and placing a hand against their abdomens. They were breathing and their pulses were strong, but they were sleeping a bit too soundly.

  “Wait, what did she say?” a voice in her ear rang out.

  “They’re here,” she repeated, scooping them up into her arms.

  “Get out of there, Tayler.” It was Gage’s voice. “Get out, now!”

  The next voices that came through were indistinguishable from each other:

  “Move! Move! Move!”

  “The kids are already in the woods!”

  “Tayler!” It was Gage again, “Get out—”

  Everything went silent when she noticed that the clearing on the other side of the log was moving. A form rose up from the ground, indiscernible from the leaves and dirt that had been there just before. It leapt forward and grabbed her around the waist. Then the sound of rapid gunfire rang through the air, but it didn’t come from any of the locations where she knew agents had been planted.

  *****

  Gage sprinted full speed toward Tayler, ignoring the commotion in his ear:

 

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