Tall, Dark and Deadly Books 0.5 - 3
Page 69
Blake reached under his leather jacket and gave her gun back. Her gaze lifted to his at the sign of trust that reached so much further than her purse he’d already returned. “You stay in the truck and lock the door,” Blake ordered. “But use that if you need to.”
“Why not let me introduce you to Ignacio?”
“I don’t want you attached to this. I can introduce myself.”
“Blake—”
He leaned in and kissed her. “You might be playing with your life, Kara, but I’m not.”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t get killed. I’m not done with you yet.”
His lips lifted. “Sweetheart, I’m not done with you either and I don’t die easily. You’ll figure that out soon enough.”
He was out of the truck before she could stop him and knocking on the window to tell her to lock up. She did as he wanted and sat there, watching him saunter away, relieved he’d had someone drop weapons at her door. He’d armed himself to the hilt. Oh, how a day changed things. She went from him being a threat to her worried about the threat to him.
“He’s still a threat, Kara,” she whispered, warning herself not to forget something so important.
She spent the next twenty minutes reminding herself of that fact, and that twenty minutes turned to forty. She was nervous. What if something had happened to Blake because of her information?
Kara ran her hands down her black jeans, trying to contain her nervous energy. She’d had enough of the sitting-duck routine. She grabbed her purse, and slid the gun inside. She found a piece of paper in her purse and left Blake her cell number. Next she snatched the truck key and put it in her black leather jacket, for easy access if she needed to get out of here quickly.
Once she was out of the truck, she headed toward a building she’d found that offered good coverage for photos just across the street. Five minutes later, she’d squatted behind a wall and removed her binoculars to check out the pier and hopefully locate Blake.
Scanning, she found the pier and her blood ran cold to see it empty. Something was not right. Something was—
“Hola, Kara,” came a familiar male voice that made her blood run cold.
Kara glanced up to find Ignacio standing above her with a gun in his hand. Blake might not be able to keep that promise he’d made earlier. Ignacio wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, and there would be no pleasure involved.
Part 2
Chapter One
“She’s with me and if you don’t drop the gun, I’ll take you to visit my pops.”
Relief washed over Kara at the sound of Blake’s voice and the sight of him holding a gun on Ignacio, though she had no idea what the heck he meant by visiting his “pops”. Maybe it was some sort of slang term Ignacio understood but, truly, she didn’t care. Only seconds before she’d thought she was dead, about to be shot to death in a dark corner, squatting behind a brick wall. Turned out the retail strip she’d thought a perfect spot to spy on the pier, where the Alvarez Cartel shipped off insane amounts of illicit drugs under Ignacio’s supervision wasn’t so perfect at all.
“Your pops?” Ignacio snapped. “What the hell does that mean?”
Okay, so apparently Ignacio didn’t understand Blake’s slang either, but it was distracting him from firing the gun so it worked for her. Kara used the opportunity to ease her hand inside her purse, and close it around the base of her Glock.
“Pops,” Blake said with a snort. “My father. The man who donated sperm to birth me so I could hold this gun I’m pointing at your head. Comprende?”
Ignacio chuckled, but it sounded strained. He wasn’t amused at Blake’s arrogant, nonchalant smart-ass remarks. Kara was, or she would be if Ignacio wasn’t still pointing the damn gun at her. “So our new head of security needs his father to do his dirty work?” Ignacio asked.
Blake shrugged. “What can I say? My pops gets pretty lonely. I hear being dead does that to a guy, though. Would you like to find out for yourself?”
Despite her obviously dire situation, Kara had to choke back laughter that would surely get her a bullet in the head. Oh my God, Blake was crazy and she loved it.
“Do you know who I am?” Ignacio challenged indignantly. He was all about being the boss man’s nephew, but didn’t seem to mind stealing from the drug shipments behind his uncle’s back. Of course, he didn’t know they knew that yet.
“Yep,” Blake confirmed. “I know who you are. Now ask me if I care.”
Kara’s lips twitched. Oh yes. Blake was a piece of work all right. It was almost like he was daring Ignacio to shoot him. Oh God. Her stomach knotted with realization. Blake did want Ignacio to try and shoot him. He was taunting Ignacio into turning the gun on him. Blake was risking his own life for her; a man she was sure would kill her if he knew the truth of who she was and what she was after. Could she get any more confused or conflicted over this man than she was now? Because damn it, she knew he was aligned with the cartel and was easily someone who would kill her if he knew her secret, but still, she couldn’t bear the idea of him dying to protect her.
The cold steel of her weapon comforted her only slightly, considering she couldn’t see Ignacio’s face through the drape of his long, dark hair to gauge his reaction. The barely lit corridor of the building they were in front of didn’t help either, nor did the late hour, but she didn’t miss the way his shoulders bunched and his spine stiffened before he added, “My uncle—”
“Won’t care if I kill you,” Blake assured him. “Not if I give him a good reason for doing it. And I’m real damn good at justifying why I kill people. Put the gun away, or I’ll prove just how good. Of course, you won’t be around to be impressed, but I’m sure your replacement will be.”
“Not until you explain how our meeting ended twenty minutes ago and you’re still here.”
“The devil is in the details, man,” Blake replied, “and I intend to know them all. Consider me the devil in your uncle’s pocket. I want to know everything you do and not just what you say you do.”
“Mendez is my uncle,” Ignacio all but growled. “Check up on someone else.”
“He wants me to check up on everyone. You included.”
Ignacio stared at Blake. Blake stared at Ignacio. Tension laced the air, thick like quicksand about to swallow them whole. Kara was pretty sure she could feel herself sinking now. Her fingers flexed on her gun, her body tense and ready for action, all too aware that all Ignacio had to do was move his finger and she was dead. Her only comfort was the knowledge that Ignacio knew Blake could kill him just as easily.
Finally, Ignacio moved, holstering his weapon under his leather coat. “You want to see my operation, you ask.”
“Why would I do that?” Blake challenged, letting his gun drop to his side and reaching for Kara’s hand to pull her to her feet by his side. Protective. Possessive. It was getting harder and harder to remember he was the enemy.
“Because I said,” Ignacio growled.
“You got something to hide?” Blake asked.
Kara discreetly stuffed the binoculars she was holding inside her purse; afraid the sight of them would only bring attention to her spying and ignite more trouble.
Ignacio glared at Blake. “Most of my men won’t ask questions before they shoot.”
Blake arched a brow and holstered his gun under his jacket as Ignacio had done. “Sounds like a good way to draw unnecessary attention to the operation. I’m not sure that’s what your uncle has in mind.”
“You’re good at justifying why you kill someone,” Ignacio said. “I’m good at making bodies disappear.”
“Interesting,” Blake said dryly.
Ignacio scowled. “What does that mean?”
Blake shrugged. “Just taking in the details, man. Finding out who is who in this operation.”
Ignacio bristled, clearly not liking that response, and without warning, his gaze snapped to Kara. “Why are you here?”
Kara opened her mouth to reply, but Blake beat her to the punc
h. “She’s here because I want her to be.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her under his arm, sending heat darting through her body.
“And how does my uncle feel about you wanting his secretary?”
Secretary. Kara liked that word. It downplayed her many skills outside the office. Exactly why she kept her mouth shut. Good little secretaries didn’t tell nasty drug-smuggling cartel members to go fuck themselves. Good girls in general didn’t tell people to go fuck themselves, but she’d left the good girl behind several months ago.
“Your uncle is pleased to give me whatever resources I need to ensure his operation is without problems,” Blake assured him.
“So he loaned you his secretary?”
“I wanted her,” Blake stated flatly. “I generally get what I want.”
Kara tried to hide the tension coiling in her spine at the obvious declaration that she was now Blake’s woman and his property, but she knew his motivation. The men in this world didn’t kill each other’s women. It was like some unwritten code of honor, when they had so little anywhere else. Blake was trying to protect her, but that didn’t make it easier to play the role of his bedroom bunny.
Ignacio’s gaze raked over Kara, hot and sticky like a summer day you wanted to escape but couldn’t, before he cut Blake a look. “I hope she’s as eager to please as my uncle is to punish those who cross him.”
“Punishment is underrated,” Blake said dryly. “I guess that’s why your uncle hired me. I get what he wants. And, on that note, I’ll be getting back to work.” He drew Kara’s hand into his and started to walk away, pulling her with him.
“Wait,” Ignacio called, halting them in their footsteps.
Blake turned back to him, casting him an expectant look.
“We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” Ignacio said. “Why don’t I buy you a drink?”
Blake turned back to him and Kara did the same. “It’s a little late for a drink, don’t you think?”
“Welcome to my world, where we sleep in the daylight and make the most of the night.”
Blake’s lips compressed. “Are the restaurants open late?”
“Twenty-four hours,” he said. “It keeps the activity looking honest.”
“All right then,” Blake said. “A drink at one of the restaurants works for me. I’d like to see how they operate.”
Ignacio’s gaze flicked back to Kara and she saw the suspicion in his stare, the hate. “Will she be joining us?” he asked, as if she wasn’t even there when he was looking right at her.
“Yes,” Blake said. “She will.”
“Excellent,” he commented. “Always happy to buy a pretty lady a drink.”
Oh yes, Kara thought. He was ready to buy her a drink all right, and then find a creative way to drown her in it. He’d decided she was a problem and he’d stay away from her for now, but later, if he had the chance, he’d smash her like a fly. But he wouldn’t get the chance, she reminded herself. She’d smash Ignacio long before he smashed her, if Blake didn’t beat her to the punch. She had a feeling he just might.
“Pine Street’s the closest location,” Kara said tightly, seeing this as an opportunity to get inside the restaurant she’d been scouting for some time, and perhaps inside the back warehouses the cameras kept her away from.
“Pine Street it is,” Blake said, lacing his fingers between Kara’s. “We’ll meet you there.” He didn’t give Ignacio a chance to reply. He pulled Kara with him and started walking toward the parking garage. His pace was steady and calculated, but she could feel the urgency building inside him, the fire about to combust. It was as if the instant they stepped away from Ignacio, something inside him snapped. Had something just happened or had he been containing this back there with Ignacio? And if he was, my God, how?
“What’s wrong?” she asked the instant she felt they were safely out of earshot.
“Not now. Wait.”
His tone was sharp, his grip on her hand tight. “Blake—”
“Not,” he ground out, “now.”
Tension crawled inside Kara and took root, and her hand went to her purse to once again grasp her weapon. She could only assume someone must be following them, close enough that he feared they would be heard if they spoke, or worse. That they were about to be attacked and he was trying to hear a perp’s approach. Ignacio was as low as they came. It would be nothing for him to kill them right here and now. And, as he’d said, he was good at getting rid of bodies. She knew that for a fact. Knew it in an intimate way she wished she didn’t.
The entrance to the parking garage came into view and Blake seemed to speed up, not slow down at the dimly lit tunnel it resembled. Kara relaxed marginally, seeing that as a sign he felt they were leaving the trouble behind.
Once the truck was in sight, Blake clicked the automatic locks and she rushed to her door and climbed inside, pulling the door shut. She turned to Blake as he did the same, intending to ask questions when he slammed his hands down on the steering wheel. Kara flinched.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, raking fingers through his hair, long, dark strands falling from the tie at his nape and hanging around his face. His grip closed into a vice around the wheel and Kara could see his muscles quivering as he grappled with whatever had him in knots.
She held her breath, waiting expectantly, long seconds ticking by, while Blake clearly stood on the edge of a proverbial cliff about to jump. Kara could feel his tension and she actually felt herself tremble, her stomach knotting with the pain and torment that radiated off of him. Whatever the darkness was that she’d sensed in him the first time she met him had been triggered. Something had reached in deep and dragged it to his surface. It was crazy, but on some unexplainable level, she knew this man, and understood him, knew he was motivated by some deep hurt that carved him inside out. The idea that she could understand an enemy and make him human rather than a monster was a terrifying thought. She wanted to reject the idea. But she couldn’t. Not with Blake.
She didn’t give herself time to think. She reached for him. The instant she was about to touch him, it was as if he knew. His hand snaked out, fingers wrapping her wrist, and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back with him on top of her.
Chapter Two
She was soft beneath him, and Blake’s mouth came down on hers, his tongue caressing hers with desperate, hungry strokes, drinking her in, drowning the past in the present. He hated the past, hated the memories and the way they sideswiped him, controlled him. The past was controlling him now, and in a big way.
One minute he’d been with Ignacio, the next walking away, reliving Whitney bloody and dead in his arms. He’d made it to the truck without being overcome with the acid burn of hate and hurt that memory produced, but it hadn’t been easy. And when Kara had touched him and that image of Whitney had transformed, becoming her instead, it had been like a premonition that he was going to get her killed, too. Like she was going to matter to him and he was going to fail her, as he had Whitney. And damn it to hell, he didn’t want her to matter. He didn’t want to care about Kara or anyone else ever again. He wouldn’t let it happen. Kara was a tool for revenge, to get to Alvarez, and hot sex along the way. Which was exactly why he was going to fuck her right here in the truck, in the garage.
Blake curved his hand under her hips, shifting his hips to fit into the V of her body, nestling his cock against her. She moaned and arched into him, so freaking soft on the outside, curvy beneath him, the floral scent of her delicate, and yet she was hard, tough, war-ready in a way he’d never suspected the first night in Denver.
Blake licked into her mouth, drank in the sweet honey flavor of her passion, of his passion mixed with hers, feeling the burn of insane need for a woman he barely knew driving him wild. He needed her, and he needed this right now. This was an escape from the rage going on inside him, the certainty he’d gotten Whitney killed, and that he was on the verge of getting Kara killed when he was only trying to save her. An im
age of Kara lying in his arms as Whitney had flashed in his head again. Damn it to hell, why was he thinking about this again? Why was he thinking at all?
He tried to deepen the kiss, to forget again, but it was too late. He was back into the acid burn of the past, the fear it would become the present. He didn’t trust Kara, but he trusted himself even less. Damn it, he was pissed. At himself. At her. At his inability to control what he was feeling and thinking.
Blake tore his mouth from Kara’s, staring down at her, their eyes connecting, the cabin of the truck a sauna of desire and lust, and for a moment he could once again think of nothing but how good it would feel to be inside her. She was making him crazy. “Who the fuck are you?” he growled through clenched teeth.
Her chin lifted. “I could ask the same of you, because we both know you’re more than you seem.”
She was smart. Too smart. Too tempting. Too everything. “I’m the bastard who just aligned you with me, life or death, sweetheart.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Why save me? You don’t even trust me.”
“I might need you.” The words, meant to be flippant, hit him hard. He might need her, and not just for the job. Damn it to hell, she was twisting him in knots, claiming him, not the other way around. He would not let this woman mess with his head and distract him. “I might need you to get what I want,” he repeated to prove to himself he could say it again and not have it affect him as it had the first time. It didn’t work, and that pissed him off all over again. This was sex damn it. Just sex. “And I damn sure want to fuck you.” His mouth closed down on hers again, one hand sliding under her backside, shifting her, and settling his thick erection in the V of her body. His other hand slid over her waist, back up and around her breast.
She moaned and sunk deeper into the kiss, teasing him with wicked little licks that had his cock doing all of his thinking, and, for the moment, that’s what he wanted. Finally, yes. He could forget. Ignacio would wait on their arrival. The bleeding ulcer of memories in his mind wouldn’t. If he didn’t shred them and fast, they’d shred him.