DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  I turned and headed back toward the elevator when Vincent stepped out of his office.

  “Things aren’t looking good for Rowan McGregor.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He gestured for me to come into his office so I did, tugging the door closed behind me.

  “The cops apparently got some security footage from the house next door. I told you McGregor lives in a fairly exclusive neighborhood? Well, his neighbor on the right has a high- end security system that has cameras all along the outside of the house. And apparently one of those cameras looks over the edge of McGregor’s driveway and a tiny part of the side of the house.”

  “The cops figured this out?”

  “And they looked at the footage. It shows the murder victim arriving at the house and McGregor letting her in through a side door. It shows him driving off in her vehicle several hours later.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  Vincent pulled up video on his laptop and we watched together as a man the same height and weight as McGregor drove away in the victim’s car and came back, letting himself into the house through a side door. What we didn’t see, however, was McGregor leaving after he woke the next morning.

  “Did McGregor know the camera was there?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then why would he let himself be seen so many times?”

  Vincent just shrugged. “All I know is that the police have issued a warrant for his arrest. If we know where he’s at, we have to turn him over or they will come after us. And that’s just … it’s not a good situation.”

  I already knew that.

  “Do we know what his relationship was with the girl?”

  “Nope. The cops seem to think it was a romance gone wrong. I don’t know if that’s the case, because the pics I’ve found of the two of them don’t seem romantic. It seems more like an acquaintance or maybe something else. Something like a business relationship.”

  “That was kind of my impression, too.”

  “But I keep thinking about Amelia. We don’t know enough to think he might be innocent. And he already lied to us about the whole thing. Amelia could be in trouble.”

  That was a truth I’d been struggling with since someone shot up the front of her house. We were still no further into figuring out who that was, either.

  Why would someone shoot up Amelia’s house? Was it someone after her, or was there more to it than that? And what kind of coincidence would it be that someone chose to fire on her house the day she happened to have a client stashed there? Clearly that was about McGregor. But why?

  “Does anyone have any idea who fired on Amelia’s house? Or how they knew she was there? Or why they would do something so fucking brazen in the middle of the afternoon?”

  Vincent shook his head. “I’ve been talking to the cops a couple times every day. They haven’t even mentioned that.”

  “Do you think it’s related?”

  Vincent sat back against the front of his desk and dangled his hands between his legs, clearly thinking about the whole situation.

  “I think …” He began to speak slowly, reminding me of some of my Louisiana relatives when they were about to tell some long story full of more hot air than truth. “I think that there’s no such thing as coincidences. And I think that this thing is much bigger than anyone can see right now. There’s something McGregor didn’t feel the need to tell us.”

  “Where’s Peter? Maybe he could tell us something about this McGregor that might help us begin to put the missing pieces together.”

  “He’s out with Heather. She’s due to give birth any day now.”

  I cursed under my breath. Everyone was always gone right when I needed them.

  “Maybe you can have tech run a background check.”

  I snorted. “Tech is basically useless right now.”

  “Too bad Waverly isn’t available.”

  “Don’t jump on that bandwagon, brother. I know what I did there.”

  I walked out of the office, the weight of Vincent’s eyes on my back something I wanted to rid myself of. I didn’t need his opinions making me feel any stupider than I already felt. I knew it was my fault Waverly had been fired. And I knew she was more of an asset to this company than I ever admitted. But I wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. Not beyond the words:

  “I need your help.”

  Waverly looked up at me, her dark eyes sparkling in the dim light coming from her large living room.

  “What else is new?”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  She sighed, stepping aside as she always did. At least she wasn’t one of those who got satisfaction out of making those who’d wronged her grovel.

  “What is it now? I don’t have any new information on those murders.”

  “I need you to run a background check on Rowan McGregor.”

  Her eyebrows rose even as she approached me, her finger pressed against her lips. Then she began to search my pockets, slipping my phone out of the front pocket of my slacks, her fingers brushing more than was necessary for her to fish the thing out. Then she walked it across the room and dropped it into some sort of … I didn’t know what it was. It looked like a steel box of some sort.

  “Your phone has a virus on it that allows the person who put it there to turn the entire thing into a live microphone. This should keep the signals from coming in or going out.”

  “Then you did find a virus? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “They would have heard and known.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Why else?”

  It took a second for it all to sink in. “Then it was me. Someone was listening to my conversations and they knew how to find our people at the safe houses.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Shit!”

  I turned away from her, frustration burning in my chest. I paced the length of the living room, wondering how many cases I’d put in jeopardy because I hadn’t known about the virus. How many people could have died? What the fuck? How had this happened?

  “It’s not your fault,” Waverly said, her voice softening a little. “It could have happened to anyone at Dragon. In fact, there could be other viruses on other phones. There’s no telling who these people are targeting or why?”

  “It’s me. They’re after me.”

  “Hayden—”

  “Can you do the background check for me, please? Amelia’s out there with this guy and we have no idea what he’s running from. I need information to help me figure it out.”

  “Of course.”

  But she didn’t move behind her desk or start tapping away on her computer. Instead she came toward me, her hands outstretched.

  “I’ll do this for you, but I—”

  Fuck it! Fuck it all!

  I needed to forget for a moment about the burden that was suddenly resting on my shoulders, the reality of the fact that I’d compromised the people whose safety was the entire point of my job. Or that the compromise might have come from a source that was so much more complicated than anything I could explain to anyone, including Megan. Or Waverly. I just … I needed the space of oblivion for a few minutes.

  I pulled Waverly to me and captured her lips. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since our last encounter, hadn’t stopped regretted walking away from her. I needed the release that came with her touch, needed the jump off that damn cliff. I could tell myself it didn’t mean anything, that it was all physical, and I might even believe it. I just knew that I needed this.

  And she didn’t push me away. Her hands came up and buried themselves in my hair, her fingers tugging painfully at my scalp. She pressed her chest hard against mine, her nipples like stiff little pebbles hidden in pillows of luscious flesh. I tugged at her shirt, a graphic T-shirt that was far different from the fitted blouses she’d always worn to the office. It came free easily, exposing a lovely cotton bra that lifted away from her body with ease. I buried my mouth against her
throat, letting my tongue dance along the line of her neck and down to one of those gorgeous nipples. She sighed, her hands playing with the space between the buttons on my shirt.

  I untangled myself from her and stripped, making her smile as he sat back and watched.

  “What are you waiting for? Take off your pants.”

  “You’re not my boss anymore, remember?”

  I reached for her, intending to force her into submission. But she dodged my touch, laughing as she scooted off to the kitchen. The damn kitchen! I kicked off my shoes and danced out of my slacks as I followed, nearly tripping as I blew around the corner. But she was ready for me—she was always ready for me—naked and perched on the edge of the counter, her slender little cunt wet and waiting. It was a sight that stopped me completely in my tracks.

  “Isn’t this what you wanted, big boy?” she asked, the tease in her voice almost cruel.

  I went to her, my urgency dampened by awe. I dropped to my knees and buried my mouth against her inner thigh, grateful that she didn’t demand anything. That she was just there when I needed her despite everything I’d done and said and demanded of her. I dropped to my knees to worship her in the only way I felt capable of doing.

  Waverly cried out, her fingers digging against my scalp as I tasted her, as I buried my tongue in places that few men got to experience. I drew out her clit, teased it as I slid a finger inside of her, and touched her with my thumb as my mouth moved back down the narrow line of her slit.

  She cried out again, her hands leading me to the places where she needed my touch most. And then she closed her thighs, holding me tight against that one spot, until the waves began to rock through her lower belly. I stood then, capturing her mouth as she moaned, and buried myself quickly into the depths of her moist, quivering cunt.

  She melted against me, her body encompassing mine as I began a slow, steady thrust. I’d missed this, missed the way she fit so perfectly against me. I hated how much I loved this feeling, hated that I’d come to crave it. I hated that no one else had ever taken me to the heights that Waverly was capable of taking me to.

  It was a betrayal to my heart. But it was like a reward to my pleasure center, to the place where all men live.

  I lifted her off the counter as my mind lost control and my body took over. I thrust so hard against her that I was concerned that I was hurting her. But she held on, pulling me closer with the strength of her long, slender legs. And she cried out against my mouth, another set of waves washing over her just as my balls tightened, just as the crest of the wave slammed into me.

  We clung to each other, our mouths still touching even though kissing had become an impossibility. I breathed in her breaths and she breathed in mine. It was intimacy taken a level up, yet I wasn’t frightened by it. I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to stand there with this beautiful woman wrapped around my body for the rest of my life. I wanted my life to consist of this small moment in time, wanted nothing more than feel of her in my arms

  What kind of a man was I that I could feel that way about not just one woman, but two? What did that say about my mental wellbeing, about my sense of commitment? What did it say about my character?

  I was the guy who always thought he was doing the right thing, but realized too late that my right thing was everyone else’s wrong thing.

  I’m sorry …

  Chapter 13

  Amelia

  I woke with a start, still being chased by the unseen man in my dreams. The room was intensely bright and there was something on my arm restraining me. I reached over to pull it free and hands grabbed my wrists.

  “Don’t do that, darling,” a voice touched by the soft brogue of an Irish accent said.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re okay. You had a laceration in your liver, but it’s all fixed now.”

  “A laceration?”

  The room was too bright and I was covered in all this white … I didn’t understand at first. But then it slowly began to come back to me: the automatic gunfire at my condo, the stolen van, the bus tour, the crash … the unseen man.

  “Rowan?”

  “I’m here. You’re safe now.”

  “Where are we? I told you no hospitals!”

  “We’re not in a hospital.”

  He touched my face, forcing me to turn and look at him. Just the sight of his warm green eyes made some of the panic in my chest begin to lessen. He was still here. He could have left me alone and disappeared, but he didn’t. He stuck by me.

  “We’re in a clinic in Tallahassee.”

  “A clinic?”

  “I have a friend, a plastic surgeon. He does procedures in his office and he did yours.”

  “He operated on me in a clinic?”

  “He’s good. I wouldn’t have brought you to him if I didn’t think so.”

  “And your leg?”

  “Better.” He slapped the side of his thigh. “My friend removed the stitches—though he said you did an awesome job under the circumstances—and put in dissolvable ones. Said it should be healed in a week or so.”

  “Good.”

  I closed my eyes, a sudden exhaustion washing over me. I knew there were things I should be doing, but I couldn’t quite get up the energy to remember what they were. But then a door opened and a tall blond man came into the room. He smiled an electric smile that seemed to match the brightness of the room.

  “How are you feeling, Ms. Randolf?”

  I glanced at Rowan before offering a slight nod. “Tired.”

  “That’s not a surprise. You lost a lot of blood before we could open you up. We didn’t have the supplies to offer you a proper transfusion, so we’ve been overwhelming your system with fluids. Your latest blood counts have come up, so I think it’s working, but you’ll be woozy for several more days before your body can catch up.”

  The blond man came over to the bed where I lay and pulled aside the sheet that covered my body, touching a bandage that spread from below my right breast all the way down to my navel.

  “No bleeding,” he said as he began to peel the edges of the bandage back. When he exposed the flesh underneath, I was surprised to only see a few stitches in several places. “Laparoscopic,” he explained. “We were able to repair the laceration without making a large incision, so you’ll heal faster. But you’ll still need to be off your feet for several days.”

  “We can’t stay in one place for too long.” I looked at Rowan. “We need to move on.”

  “You do need to go home,” the doctor said, a confused look on his handsome face. “But you should be fine if you just take a couple of days to lie in bed. Rowan said it wouldn’t be an issue.”

  “And it won’t,” Rowan said. “We’ll be out of your hair in an hour or so, Tarek.”

  The doctor smoothed the bandage back into place. “Just keep an eye on the stitches and make sure they don’t become swollen or start weeping any kind of fluid. If that happens, you should go to the emergency room.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on them.”

  Rowan got up and directed the doctor to the door. They had a quick exchange there, but Rowan seemed to smooth the doctor’s confusion over, telling him something I couldn’t hear or guess about.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the moment he came back to my bedside.

  “I told him that you’re married and we’ve been having an on-again, off-again affair and that your husband is a very important man who would squash me like a bug if he found out. Said we’d been in a car accident and your husband would find out if we went to the hospital. I saved him from an unfortunate incident a few years ago that his wife still doesn’t know about, so he was happy to help. But we need to get out of here before one of his nurses decides to report him to the medical board.”

  “He doesn’t know—”

  “No. He thinks we’re staying at a condo not far from here.”

  I tried to pull myself up to a sitting position. “We have to get out of here.”

&nb
sp; “We will,” he said, pushing me back down. “I’ve got a car, but we don’t have enough cash left to get very far.” He studied my face for a second. “I’d get us into a motel, but …”

  “We need a safe house.”

  “Yeah. Know any nearby?”

  I thought about it a second, remembering Kevin’s little excursion to Florida.

  “It’s a bit of a drive, but it would be perfect. Isolated.”

  “Where?”

  “The Florida Keys.”

  Rowan smiled. “That would work.”

  Less than an hour later, Rowan and the doctor had me packed up in the backseat of a small SUV, a bag filled with medical supplies in the front passenger seat. I heard them discuss something about an antibiotic regimen and how to change out my IV, which was hanging from the little hook above my head. I guess the blood loss had been more significant than I’d imagined.

  I needed to call Hayden, but the effort of getting into the SUV had worn me out. The moment we were on the move I was asleep, lulled by the vibration of the engine. When I woke again, Rowan was standing over me, doing something to the IV line. He kissed my forehead when he saw I was awake.

  “A few more hours.”

  I managed to stay awake for a while, but the movement and exhaustion were just too much to ignore. When I next awoke, Rowan was standing over me again.

  “We’re on the ferry, babe. Just a little while longer and we’ll be at your friend’s house.”

  “No problems?”

  “No. The cash was enough to keep the tank full. We might even have enough left to get a few supplies once we arrive.”

  “Be careful,” I muttered. And then I was out again. It seemed like there was nothing I could do to keep my eyes open and my mind in reality. I would have hated being so powerless if I’d been able to stay conscious long enough to realize just how powerless I really was.

  Days passed, but I wasn’t really aware of it. I remembered the sound of the waves crashing on the shore somewhere outside. I remembered the feel of Rowan’s hand in mine. I remembered the pinch of pain when he checked my sutures and took out my IV. But there wasn’t a long stretch of consciousness, nothing to help me put a firm foot back on the ground of reality.