by Dana Volney
He wasn’t lying next to her. That was a good start. She couldn’t deal with someone else right now. She rubbed the heels of her palms on her eyes. They’d had sex last night. Yep, that had happened. Like, mind-blowing shower sex. His strong, tattooed, muscled arms hoisting her up, his commanding mouth on her skin, and the way he’d known exactly what she needed—a shiver spiked her back and landed deep in her belly. Then he’d brought down a gray cotton t-shirt and blue polka dotted boxers for her to wear and insisted she take the bed. He wasn’t here because he hadn’t slept by her side. Fine with her. She had a lot of shit going on right now and adding potentially complicated emotions into the mix wasn’t going to help her accomplish anything.
She sat up, scanning the loft. No Able. The bedroom was gentle in a way—more of an inviting room than one she’d picture for a hardened man. His entire home was decorated with modern tones and furniture, but this room was cozier than the rest. More luxurious, too.
She ruffled her fingers through her hair. She still smelled shower fresh. It was a really big bummer that she was going to have to put on her gross alley/jail clothes. She headed to the bathroom to her left. She needed to find some toothpaste at the very least. And probably a comb. Her hair was a scraggly mess from sleeping on it wet.
She opened the barn-style double doors to what she assumed was the bathroom and immediately wished she could stay in this room forever. The sunken tub looked like it would fit four people with ease. She peeked over the side, not taking the two steps to reach the top of the platform. There were jets. The man liked his lavish ways to get clean, that was for sure. She retreated to the white sink and large mirror, taking a good look at herself. Her under eyes were dark against her creamy skin and her lips chapped. She was a sight to behold alright. A shine caught her eye behind her and she twirled around.
There was a stand-alone, roller rack in the bathroom filled with clothes. Women’s clothes. On the top of the rack was a black, slouchy bag with fringe hanging down the sides. She brought the bag down and set it on the counter. There was toothpaste, a toothbrush, Chapstick, face-cleaning wipes, moisturizer, basically an entire line of Mac makeup, a cell phone, and her perfume. The exact perfume she’d worn since she was a teenager.
How is this possible?
She left the purse on the counter and went back to the clothes. All of them were her size, her exact size, and there was a Victoria Secret bag hanging at the end. She peeked inside, not surprised at all at this point to find lacy thongs and different styles of bras. All in her size, of course. Shoes lined the bottom of the rack. There was any and every style she could want. Hell, she could put on this sparkling purple dress if she wanted, and there were black heels below to match. Why did he think she’d need fancy clothes? Her suit from yesterday was nowhere to be found.
No man she’d ever met paid attention to sizes, let alone would shop for her. Able was full of the unexpected. He was also a mystery. And that was alarming.
Light peeked through a rectangle window that spanned the whole of the bathtub area. She pulled the phone from the bag and checked the clock. She’d slept for seven hours. In that time, he’d gone out and bought her these items? Stores weren’t even open in the time she’d rested.
Focus on what’s important. Dressing and figuring out what she could do today to make up for everything that went wrong yesterday. Because she was 70 percent sure she was going to stick around and hear Able out.
She selected a black racerback bra and black panties, pulling the tag from both. She pulled on a light pair of jeans, the black v-neck shirt, a casual suit jacket made from cotton, and black sporty Roxy shoes that didn’t have laces. She brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair, and braided it. She took some of the makeup out of the packaging—mascara could help all situations. She swiped some creamy eye shadow on and lined her eyes with steely gray/black then added more mascara for good measure before adding touch of peach blush just below her cheekbones and nude gloss over her lips. She spritzed perfume on her chest and the back of her neck. It was really weird that all of this was waiting for her, but she had a feeling she was going to have to pace herself on the odd factors of her day.
She didn’t want to carry around a bag filled with makeup all day, so she dumped out the purse on the counter. This shit is expensive. She stashed the gloss in her pocket then sifted through the rest. She added the makeup she’d already used to her bag. The perfume, too, just in case the cops had confiscated hers. The cell phone was a must—that fit nicely into an inside side pocket.
She slung the leather around her head so the strap cut across her chest. Wait. She might not be back here tonight. She might still have to run from Able and whoever he was working with. She dug in the Victoria Secret sack and shoved two pairs of underwear into the zippered pocket of her bag. Then she grabbed a navy-blue shirt and tucked it at the bottom along with her new toothbrush and paste. If she had to go on the run from him, those essentials would be nice. Now if only she had her ID and cash.
A smile crept over her face while she did a once over in the mirror. “You can do this. For Tabitha.” She was going to take on this day and try her best to keep an open mind.
She held her head high as she made her way down the spiral staircase and over to the source of the mouth-watering bacon smell. Able wore a black and white plaid button-up with the first couple buttons undone just enough to show a black tank top underneath. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail at the base of his neck, and this whole dark look he had going on, completed by his hard eyes, was sexy as hell.
His gaze raked down her from head to toe. “Good morning.” His smooth, rich voice filled her ears and more hot flashes of their time spent in the shower made her suck in a breath.
She pressed her lips together and turned up the ends to start the morning off with him somewhat pleasantly. “All that shopping and still time to sleep and cook. You are a busy man.” She took her seat from last night at the island. The one right across from him.
“I see everything fits nicely.” He set a plate in front of her with three strips of bacon, cheesy scrambled eggs, and cut strawberries.
“Yes, thank you.” Don’t blush. The fact that he’d paid so much attention to her body, enough to know her measurements, was a little unnerving. Or did he? He was hot as hell, and this place, rough on the outside and chic on the inside, had to be a natural panty dropper. “Clothes you just happen to have hanging around?”
“No.” He set an identical plate in front of himself as he remained standing. “Would you like coffee?”
She shook her head, trying to read his mind. When did he sleep?
“I’m trying to quit the stuff.”
“Admirable.”
“You’re seriously not going to tell me how you got all of that stuff upstairs? You even have my perfume.” Yeah, so she was a little unhinged right now. But there were so many things she didn’t know, didn’t have answers to. She wasn’t going to let this detail go.
“I have a knack for detail and contacts when I need things. Women’s items included.”
“So you just called and all of that stuff appeared?”
“Yes.” He forked a slice of strawberry and she watched it slip through his perfect lips, lips that were so hot on hers last night.
Stop it. She was focusing on the wrong things. Their night had been satisfying and afforded her the release she needed—she’d slept great—but today wasn’t about banging him again. It was about clearing her name and bringing justice to her sister.
She stabbed her eggs around her plate. “You must be pretty loaded.” So now she was just trying to get a rise out of the guy. The only time he’d been anything more than a direct ass was when she’d been naked in his arms. And they hadn’t been talking much at that point.
“I have the means to get what I want.” His thin brow arched, his gaze steady.
Yeah, she got his meaning. It had just been sex and a one-time thing. He didn’t have any type of pull over her.
>
“I’m just supposed to trust you because you have money?”
“We need to work together because we have a common goal.” He was calm and cool and his brown eyes were so bold she froze. “No other reason. Your trust would be nice, but what I do want is your cooperation. In your gut you know you need to stay with me, so why second-guess that?” He drank from his black coffee cup.
Chills fluttered down her spine. That sounded like something her sister used to say: Never second-guess your gut. When she’d received the news of Tabitha’s death, Teagan’s second thought had been that she was going to make Hume Corp. pay. And she’d blindly gone with it because that’s what Tabitha always said to do. Maybe there was something to Able—the way he only looked forward. She had a future very shortly that didn’t involve any sort of mission. A future she had yet to completely nail down.
“The clothes were because you can’t go home,” he continued. “We don’t have time to shop today and I assumed wearing yesterday’s suit wouldn’t be ideal. But it’s your choice if you want it. It’s in the trash out back.”
He had her in a corner and knew it. She picked up a slice of bacon and crunched down, her stomach’s need for food suddenly very strong. “What’s on today’s to-do list? I hope it includes Hume Corp.”
“That is part of it.” He nodded as he ate his eggs. All the while watching her. She didn’t like it. He wasn’t watching her because they were having a friendly conversation. He was studying her, sizing her up. But for what? She’d come clean last night. He was the one hiding information and God only knew what else from her.
Shit. It would be nice to know how to go about fixing losing the information from Hume Corp., which hopefully led to her stolen purse, finding the real person who shot Agent Wheeler, and getting access to her apartment again, but she didn’t. So now she was at Able’s mercy. The type of mercy he was capable of giving was still up for debate.
“Where do we start?” She’d basically exhausted all of her skills to get the intel in the first place. She didn’t have any hidden talents that were going to make any tasks easier.
“We find out what information Sabene has gathered.”
“Sabene?” He was working with more people than the getaway driver from last night? She’d not told anyone else, not even her parents, what she was doing at Hume Corp., what her end game was. Now strangers were getting involved, both for and against her, every hour it seemed. She worked to not start breathing heavily and to keep her pulse in check. She had to pace herself; this was going to be an ass-chapping day.
“An associate.”
“We need to get back into Hume Corp. before they delete the information completely.”
“We will make a plan.”
“Then what?” she snapped. “We need to act. There’s no time. Are these associates of yours actually helping or just around?”
“They have skin in the game. You want them and their talents on your side. We are going to do exactly what I’ve said.”
“Where do we meet these associates of yours?” She wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin under her silverware and rubbed in the lip gloss on her lips that was miraculously still there.
“We go to my office.” He put their emptied plates in the sink.
He made sure his warehouse was locked down like the fortress she suspected it was. They rode in silence as they headed downtown. She didn’t have much to say. Hopefully, she’d find out his plan and the options when they were at his office; saying anything now wouldn’t be productive.
Able parked in downtown Arlington in front of a row of side-by-side buildings with a charming, old feel to them, each having been made of different brick colors, their vintage signs protruding and lit.
“M Interior Designs?” She stepped out of his steel-gray Hummer.
His keys jingled in his hands as he found the right one and unlocked the door. His brows wrinkled and he stepped through, holding up a palm for her to stay put. He disappeared around the corner to the left. When he returned a couple of seconds later, he had his phone in his hand.
He waved her inside. She stepped in right behind him, close enough for a whiff of his clean scent.
“What is it?” she asked quietly as her gaze skipped around the darkened, sparse area.
His lips pressed together and his jaw jumped. “Head upstairs.”
The shiny walnut stairs led up one floor. The front door shut and the lock clicked. Able was right behind her, and as soon as she hit the landing, she stepped aside because she could feel the tension in the air. And smell fresh popcorn.
“I see you all let yourselves in,” Able ground out.
There were five people moving about the living room to the left and kitchen area at the far end of the room.
“You didn’t think you could keep us out with a little lock, did you?” A dark blonde man in a white button-down collared shirt and blue-gray dress pants had one expensive-looking, black, square-toed shoe up on the coffee table as he leaned back into the black leather couch to address Able.
There wasn’t one ugly person in the group. In fact, it was like she’d stepped into some sort of photo shoot for the world’s prettiest people. Hopefully their minds were just as impressive.
Her gaze landed on a face she recognized. “Salma?” The woman who’d tried to take her from the cops last night was sitting at a round, high-top table in the living room with another woman.
Salma glanced to Able then smiled. “Claire, actually.”
“What happened last night?” A man a tad taller than Able raised his brows to Claire. “Losing your touch?”
“I had no prep.” A flash of irritation crossed Claire’s stare. “Most chiefs are married.” She shrugged and turned back to the other woman.
“Teagan Wyatt, this is … the team. Claire you’ve met. Sabene and Arkham.” The German Shepard laying at Sabene’s feet raised his ears. “Samson,” Able pointed to the tall guy beside him. “That’s Milo scuffing up my coffee table. And Rife.” He motioned to the tree of a man taking up one of the black couches himself.
“This was no time to pick up a stray.” Rife folded his arms across his chest and his muscles came to life.
“What have you found out, Sabene?” Able glided over to the group.
“Rodney’s gone underground. Further.” She tapped away on her laptop and suddenly two screens were filled with pictures and documents. “Luckily for all of you, I have my ways.” An image of the street where Teagan had met Agent Wheeler was grainy on the big-screen covering the window. There she was, in the alleyway, talking to the agent.
“How’d you get those pictures?” Teagan said absently as she relived the worst night of her life from a different perspective.
“I hacked into the city’s camera feed.”
Teagan nodded and crossed her arms. She wasn’t just cavorting with one criminal—she was in it neck deep with six. All people Able obviously had faith in, so they would get some of hers until she knew better.
“Sabene is skilled in technology matters.” Able brushed his thumb and index finger down his goatee.
Teagan was about to follow-up when the screen image switched on the display and her entire body went cold. The video showed a man stumbling back, the dark liquid clear in the black and white clip.
“Is that Agent Wheeler getting shot?”
“You would’ve been toast, too, if Able hadn’t coaxed you out of the way.” Samson made his way into the twenty-by-twenty living room space and slipped his hands in his dark jean pockets.
She whipped her head to Able, who was studying the video. “What does he mean? I only moved when another shot barely missed me.”
He turned to her, his brow raised. “I didn’t miss.”
“You shot at me?” Her eyes widened, her tone up an octave.
“Yes. But not at you. To get you out of the way. And it worked.”
She would’ve slapped the smug off his pointed nose and goatee right then and there, but they had pictures of he
r. Pictures of her not shooting the agent. She needed copies. With this proof, surely someone would listen to her and be able to clear her name.
“I tracked Rodney through the park and he got into a dark sedan a block away.” Sabene pulled up pictures that were even fuzzier than the alley shots. “I lost them three blocks later, but I was able to get a partial plate in the dark. I have an alert set. If a traffic camera in the area gets a look at those plates, I’ll know.”
“What about the pictures that prove I’m innocent?” she asked.
Sabene looked from Able to Samson. “Here’s the rub. Right after I piggybacked onto the system and pulled the data, it was erased.”
“Erased?” Samson put voice to what Teagan was thinking.
“From the system. A hard erase. It’s not on the city’s servers anymore. We’re just lucky I got to it first.”
What had Able said last night—he and his team were at risk? Teagan glanced at each one of the people in the room again. She didn’t recall seeing any of them before.
“Why is this guy after me and you guys?” she posed her question to no one in particular.
Not one of them even tried to answer. She turned to Able. “What exactly do you do for a living?” These actions, the group’s criminal behavior, wasn’t normal. Certainly not for an interior designer.
“Tell them what you had on Hume Corp.,” Able prompted.
“That’s not an answer.” She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Her emotions were all over the place.
“That’s how we’re all connected.” The edge from last night was back in Able’s voice. “Hume Corp.”
“Sweetheart.” Rife looked over from the couch. “We’re hired guns.”
“What?” She took a step away from Able.
“Assassins.” Rife shrugged and put a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
He said the word so casually. He’d just told her he killed people for a living. That they were all murderers.
She was going to hurl.
“I need air.” She hurried down the stairs, fumbled with the bolt lock on the door before finally hearing the click and pushing out into the chilled, fresh air of February on the East Coast.
