Traitor Games

by Sidney Bristol

  Noah watched Lillian pace the room, phone pressed to her ear. Every time he’d ever seen her, she was in motion. Jogging, pacing, fiddling with her hair. It was like her body was trying to keep up with her brilliant mind firing away too fast to be contained.

  She seemed to have forgotten he was there. Every so often she’d get half a sentence out or a sigh, but that was it. Her sister, the illustrious Camilla Matthews, wasn’t letting Lillian get a word in edgewise.

  He’d always been more impressed with Lillian than her sister. Sure, Camilla was the face of the next generation of the Matthews Corp. She was the one who got the credit for everything they did, but who did the work?

  That fell to the likes of Lillian and her peers. The first time Noah met the Matthews sisters, they’d been under attack. It was how they responded to the same event that defined how he saw them.

  Camilla had crumbled.

  Lillian had charged ahead.

  She was smart, strategic, and quick on her feet. And selfishly speaking, she wasn’t bad to look at, either. Her curvy, hourglass figure was maintained by a strict jogging schedule. She had this long, luxurious hair that seemed to be a dozen shades of dark brown to blond. The kind of stuff a man wanted to touch. But he didn’t dare. Her eyes saw too deep. Too much. And he was a man with secrets. Which was why he’d kept his distance from her. She was temptation and he was weak when it came to what he wanted.

  “Okay. I love you, too. Bye.” Lillian sighed and tossed her phone on the sofa.

  The stress of the call showed in the lines on her face, the weariness behind her eyes, and the slope of her shoulders.

  Noah took a step toward her then stopped. What the hell did he think he could do that would help? “Something wrong?”

  “Just Camie.” Lillian sat down on the sofa and curled her legs under her. “Ever since they blew up our offices she’s been on this…revenge kick. She wants to know who and why and how and…”

  “And let me guess, you’re trying to put her off, guide her away from the truth?” He understood revenge, knew how it twisted a person up. Funny how that one incident, their office going up in a bomb, had marked all their lives.

  “It’s more than that. Camie has never taken loss well. She’s good at what she does. She can’t see herself losing anything, which has made what happened to the office personal. It’s…unhinged her. Jesse and I are trying to keep it contained, but…”

  “She’s unraveling?”

  “Yeah. She’s never had to work for anything in her life. School was her thing, she was popular and well-liked, and our aunt handed the company over to her. This is the first time she’s ever lost something and it’s eating her up. I can’t tell her the truth.”

  “But she was there…”

  “Yeah, but she doesn’t remember hardly any of it and it’s been eight months since the building was blown up. I don’t think she’s going to remember it. If you walked into her office tomorrow she probably wouldn’t remember you. It’s like…the adrenaline and stress of it made her black out and she wasn’t even there.”

  “That’s—”

  “Weird? Yeah. She’s seeing a therapist now and they’ve done some brain scans. The results will be in next week.”

  Noah watched her, the silence stretching on.

  He wanted to keep her talking for purely selfish reasons. People like him didn’t get to do normal relationships, least of all with someone good like her. When she was gone, he’d replay these moments back. The most normal human interaction he’d had in ages. “You think there’s something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, who just loses that much time?”

  “Stress does weird things to the body.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not like I was any better off than she was.”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. He wanted to touch that hair. “Sure you were.”

  She pinned him with a flat stare. “Really?”

  “You went through the CIA Academy as an analyst not a field agent, I know. That still gives you a wealth of coping skills she doesn’t have because she never had to learn them.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Don’t discredit yourself.”

  Lillian’s mouth screwed up and her brow furrowed.

  Noah crossed to sit next to her.

  “Where were we?” he asked.

  “We were figuring out why I’m not already dead.”

  He stretched his arm out along the back of the sofa. She was remarkable. Her talents were wasted behind the scenes at her firm. She was a powerhouse. She should be the one out front, because this face? The one calm under the threat of losing her life? It made even someone like him want to believe in her. “You need to go into hiding. Run. Get away from here. Now. Tonight. Call your watchdog. He probably has somewhere you can go.”

  “I’m not leaving. Camie needs me, my job is here, and this is how it has to be.”

  “Lily, you aren’t listening—”

  “I’ll call the president again. I’ll make him understand that he has to get involved.”

  One woman was going to change the mind of the President of the United States?

  Noah didn’t doubt that Lillian could be persuasive. He knew her abilities. She wouldn’t have gotten this gig if she couldn’t talk a good game, but there were other powers in play here. They’d been outmaneuvered and she was going to have to accept that the time to run was now.

  He reached over and touched her hand, briefly. “Only knowing what’s on the news? You’re wrong. The man is already on the hook for not denouncing Mitch, his own son. Standing up for you, someone he’s not even connected to, will put a target on him. If SICA has as much clout as you think they do, not even the president is safe. They’ll destroy him.”

  “We don’t know that for sure.”

  “Yes, we do.” Noah stared at her for a moment. “We’re talking about people in the upper ranks of the intel world. They know where all of Fowler’s skeletons are buried. A man like him isn’t innocent. He’s not the good ol’ boy people believe he is. He’s got secrets he doesn’t want out there, and they’ll twist those every way they can to suit their end game. And you’d give that to them. Right now it doesn’t play into their interest to have control of him, but what if you push them that way? What will happen when the president is their guy?”

  She slashed her hand through the air. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Do you want to risk it?”

  “I have more faith in the system than you do.”

  “You’re a fixer, Lillian. If this situation was your client, what would you do? You know the system can be manipulated, bent, you go around it. What’s to stop these people from doing the same thing?”

  Lillian blinked wide eyes at him. Her faith was in an imperfect system. She had an excellent grasp of the law, how it worked. She had to see the holes in her logic.

  Finally, she sat back, putting a little distance between them. “I think you should leave. It’s been a long day.”

  He’d rattled her cage, but she still wasn’t letting him help her.

  “Damn it, Lily.” He grasped her hand, breaking his rule, and squeezed. The last thing he wanted to see was her obituary. “We can’t wait. These people won’t hesitate to send someone else to kill you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  No, she wouldn’t.

  She was too smart to believe that. Best case scenario, she was dismissing him to call her watchdog. Worst case, she was going to continue to try to work the system until it put her in an early grave. She wasn’t used to this side of things. The truly dangerous, life-threatening underbelly of it all.

  Did she grasp that her decision to stay put both their lives at risk?

  Or that if it came down to living or dying, he’d make sure she lived?

  Noah grabbed her phone from the sofa.

  “What are you doing?” She snatched the cell, but he pulled it out of her grasp. “How do you know my passcode?”

 
; “I just do.” He tapped the screen. This was stupid. He knew he should bundle her up and go, but he didn’t want to force her. He didn’t want to steal her choice. “This is a number you can call to reach me. It’ll go to a secure, encrypted voicemail. I can’t promise I will be able to protect you if you choose to stay here, but I’ll do what I can.”

  Killing her made more sense, but that wasn’t an option.

  He saved the contact under Joe’s Pizza and Pasta, then handed it to her.

  She cradled the phone in her lap. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Deep down he knew it was, and he hoped she made the call before the clock ran out. “I’ll see myself out.”

  He pushed to his feet and Lillian followed, unfolding herself to her full height of five foot six. She was such a big person in a small package. Something about her ferocity had always called to him. Made him want to protect her. He didn’t understand it and he couldn’t fight it.

  She frowned up at him. “How did you get in, anyway?”

  He shrugged and grinned. “I used the back door.”

  This time she didn’t roll her eyes, but her frown deepened. “It was locked.”

  “I made a key.” He pulled the key ring out of his pocket and jangled it at her.

  “When?” She went to grab it, but he was quicker. She took a step closer until they were right back where they’d been earlier, barely an inch of space between them. Those beautiful, dark brown eyes of hers burning hot.

  “Oh, ages ago. Thought it might come in handy for looking out for you.”

  She stared at him for a few long moments.

  The frown slowly faded, leaving those lips of hers soft. Kissable.

  Yeah, he needed to go.

  “Don’t use it again without permission.”

  Not, give it to me.

  She was accepting this. She was coming around.

  He caressed her cheek. She sucked in a breath, but that stubborn streak in her wouldn’t allow her to back down from him. She was remarkable, and damn him, he was going to make sure she got to keep breathing.

  “Night, Lily,” he whispered.

  It wasn’t smart. It was impulse. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Her body rocked forward and she gripped his shoulders while the rest of her remained frozen in place, probably every bit as shocked as a prim and proper woman should be. He lifted his face from hers and stared down into her bottomless eyes, at her cheeks flushed pink.

  Lillian Matthews had plagued his dreams. He couldn’t erase her from the world, destined to only live on in his head. He was going to save her, even if she didn’t want to be saved.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  He took the stairs two at a time, her muttered curses following him.

  She’d call. When the president didn’t come through for her, she’d come to him.

  And he’d be prepared.

  Chapter Three

  Monday. Matthews Corp Temporary Offices, Washington, D.C.

  Lillian’s nerves were dialed to ten.

  She’d barely slept and spent most of the time since Noah had left her house going over where she’d made a misstep.

  At some point over the last year she’d screwed up and made herself a target.

  When? How? To whom?

  Noah hadn’t indicated he knew where the source of the hit on her life originated. As forthright as he’d been with her she didn’t think he’d keep that detail from her.

  The question now was, did she deal with this hit on her own? Or did she call in help?

  The team was spread out and had their own issues to deal with. Everyone else was already in fear for their lives. It seemed unfair for her to pull in resources to deal with this threat.

  Noah had offered.

  Her lips tingled and the memory of that kiss sprang to the forefront of her mind.

  Why had Noah kissed her? And why was she thinking about it again?

  She grit her teeth and straightened her blouse.

  Jesse was practically staring at her through the walls. She could feel it. At some point she’d finish the meeting notes and he’d corner her, looking for answers as to why she was on edge.

  What was she going to tell him?

  There was no way she’d tell Jesse that Noah had been in her home. For one, Jesse would take it personally. And two, the others had strong opinions about Noah and his lack of involvement with their team. But Lillian didn’t blame Noah. His ongoing op hadn’t been a secret.

  “And…there…we…go.” She hit print and checked the time.

  Jesse was doing a security install in an hour for a client. He would have to leave the office before much longer, at which point Lillian would be free.

  She jammed her feet into her shoes, grabbed her coat, bag, and phone. A quick trip down to the coffee shop and a few moments to herself would eat up what time Jesse had to waylay her.

  She quick-stepped around her desk—and nearly ran into Jesse.

  He filled the doorway, hands braced on either side.

  Damn it. She was cornered.

  “Hey.” Her throat constricted, making the word sound two octaves too high.

  “Donovan wants to see you,” he said in a low voice for her ears alone.

  “What? Why? When?” Lillian’s mouth fired off the questions while her brain blanked.

  “Now. Around the corner. A black car will take you to the meet. I’ll tell Camilla you ran out for coffee. That’s where you were going, weren’t you?”

  “Why does Donovan want to talk to me?” She hadn’t spoken with the Director of the CIA since he’d handed off the encrypted phone line and told her good luck. For the most part their operation was contained to the operatives she coordinated and a few local resources like Jesse. The president got regular updates, but it wasn’t as if he were involved in their plans.

  “I don’t know, but you have to go. Now.” Jesse took her coat from her and held it out.

  She slipped one arm then the other into the sleeves, her head buzzing.

  Was this about Noah?

  The threat to her life?

  She hadn’t heard a peep from Noah since he left which should have made her breathe easier, but hadn’t.

  Jesse squeezed her arm. “We’ll figure it out. Go, before Camilla is off this phone call.”

  Lillian nodded and stepped past him toward the door to the temporary offices the Matthews Corp had moved into for the time being. Security was tighter here. There were metal detectors on the first floor and uniformed men on call.

  She took the elevator and exited the building in a daze, putting Noah out of her mind.

  Director Shemar Donovan made her more nervous than the president. In the big picture, President Fowler was more powerful and had more connections, but Donovan was a silent force who’d been in the trenches for years. If anyone knew where the bodies were buried, it was him.

  Lillian pushed her shoulders back, grasped the strap of her designer purse with both hands, and strode forward. She wasn’t going to let anyone intimidate her. She was a Matthews.

  It was a fact that a Matthews girl could do anything. Lillian’s aunt had started the Washington D.C.-based fixer agency. Her grandmother’s work with the government was still so classified no one knew exactly what she’d done. Her great-grandmother had helped save Holocaust survivors. They had a long, proud heritage.

  She turned at the corner. The narrow street led back to the parking structure and road mostly blocked off for construction.

  A sleek black town car idled at the curb.

  Damn Jesse. She’d wanted him to be wrong.

  Lillian took a deep breath and strode toward the car. No one got out. There was no signal this was her ride. She grasped the rear door and pulled.

  It opened.

  Awesome.

  She slid onto the leather seat and closed the door behind her.

  Shemar Donovan sat next to her, looking at his phone. He was a sophisticated black man. His suit was well cut, his hair sho
rn short. But it wasn’t what he wore that set him apart, it was an air around him. He was a capable, confident person, and she wanted him to see her as his equal.

  No, she was his equal.

  The driver grinned at her in the rearview mirror. “Hi, Lily.”

  “Noah?” She gaped at his stupid grin and his stupid face. Her skin heated and her stomach tightened. And damn him, she could almost feel the brush of his lips.

  Lillian gripped the strap on her purse and wrestled her wayward thoughts back to the noose around her neck.

  “Our mutual friend briefed me on what’s going on.” Director Donovan clicked his pen.

  The director of the CIA and the president were discussing her. Great.

  “For obvious reasons we can’t play our hand. No one can know our friend is on our side,” Shemar said. “I followed up with Noah this morning, and thought we should be as direct in how we handle this as we can.”

  Lillian grit her teeth.

  So what?

  The men had gotten together, talked about her, and decided how things were going to be?

  They weren’t the ones risking their lives trying to make things right. Her teams were. She was. Not them.

  “What obvious reasons?” Her voice was frigid.

  “Our friend isn’t beyond reach. It’s not certain, but we have uncovered some…fraud in the system.” Shemar stared at her, willing her to understand his meaning.

  Fraud in the system? Did he mean a mole or a leak? Something else?

  “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t know anything for certain. Our eastern friends—”

  Andy and Carol? They were in Europe.

  “They found something. Tampering with results.”

  Lillian slid down in her seat, her head buzzing. Was he telling her that Andy and Carol had reason to believe SICA had tampered with the election results? Did that mean they couldn’t trust the president?

  Shemar gestured at Noah. “I’m recommending that Noah be reassigned to your task force, but officially he has to skip town with you.”

  “Uh, what?” Noah frowned into the rearview mirror.

  “No,” Lillian said.

  “I realize this is an inconvenience, Ms. Matthews, but the bigger picture is that we’ve barely scratched the surface here. I’m not willing to risk you or the work you’re doing.”