Even being blown up and losing everything…
She shook her head. He hadn’t lost everything. He had her. They’d figure it out. And hopefully, he’d put a bullet in her handler’s head and be done with him fast. God, she was so bloodthirsty. Sitting on her knees for a month had changed her. Although, she’d always been able to see the benefit of a well-placed shot right between the eyes.
The cab grinded to a stop after a near miss with a pedestrian, and she realized she’d gotten downtown to the shop she wanted without noticing.
She was too distracted by half, and she had to pull it together. When she’d been aware of her surroundings, she’d still been kidnapped, so being out of it simply would not do.
Sarah paid the cabbie and walked into the store. With New York really gentrified, there weren’t too many sex toy stores available anymore, and yet she’d found an upscale establishment downtown named Lovely. She’d pick some small things to tempt Zach, a celebration after the day he was sure to have.
While she wandered around New York as some kind of coward. The idea disgusted her, yet she had no idea what his mission parameters were, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up.
She was paying for the few items she’d picked out—a flogger, a pair of handcuffs, and some real hand ties—when she saw the movement behind her in the mirror. Having been grabbed from behind and kidnapped, she might have developed a very healthy case of paranoia.
Sarah watched the mirror again as she took her change and the bag with a smile. The hairs on the back of her neck stood. So what if someone had stopped and stared in the store window? It likely had nothing whatsoever to do with her. She was in New York, the streets were crowded, people were on them all the time.
And what were the chances anyone would track her here? She’d gotten on a boat, taken a cab, and bought a flogger. Who could have spotted her already?
Yet…
Another movement caught her attention. Someone was across the street, and he stared right at her. A man, dark haired, tall, tattoo on his left cheek. She recognized him immediately. He’d been the head dude who had taken her the first time.
She clenched her jaw. He wasn’t going to receive a second chance, and damn it, she wasn’t afraid. Maybe if she said it enough, she’d believe it.
Unlike the last time, she had a gun in her purse. If there was more than one, she was only going to fire off one shot off before she took it back. The dying idea seemed less appealing.
She needed to stay alive, which meant she needed to run like hell.
They’d found her here, so they could track her. Maybe the second she’d come back to New York, she’d activated some kind of tracker.
“Do you have a bathroom?” She smiled at the clerk.
“Usually we don’t allow customers…”
She clasped her hands as if she begged. “Oh, pretty please? I have to go meet my boyfriend, and I really, really have to pee.” Sarah gave it her best damsel in distress smile.
“Fine. It’s back there.” The clerk rolled his eyes while he pointed toward the back of the store.
Sarah moved quickly as she made her way into the small powder room. She wasn’t wearing any of her clothes from before or during the island. Stripping, she checked herself and didn’t feel anything on her body indicating a tracker. No bumps, lumps, scars, or wounds she didn’t have before.
What could still be on her they could be using?
Her clothes were new. She’d bought them herself. Her shoes were new. Damn it. What…
The thought slammed into her. For a really bright girl she’d been really stupid.
I miss the obvious.
Her hair. Washing it wouldn’t necessarily remove a bug entangled in there. Not if it was embedded in her scalp like a tic. She had to move. The dudes on the street would not push into the store to grab her unless they absolutely had to.
They wouldn’t wait forever.
She walked back into the main part of the shop and grinned once again at the sales clerk. “I think I want to buy more stuff. Outfits.”
Sarah pointed at some of the leather getups in the corner. Stalking over she grabbed some clothes in her size. She had no doubt it would fit except, damn it, she had to pull her act off. Her very life depended on it. “I’m going to go try these on. I guess I’m not ready to stop buying yet. My poor boyfriend and all the money I spend. Bathroom okay?”
“We have a changing room.”
She pretended not to hear as she slipped a razor from the grooming section into her purse. If it didn’t have batteries already in it, she was royally screwed. “Oh, the bathroom will be fine.” She called over her shoulder heading fast back to where she’d come from.
Seconds later she made a lot of noise and turned on the sink on full blast. Hopefully, the clerk wouldn’t hear her or she’d have a lot of explaining to do.
She had to be fast, and she couldn’t let herself worry for a second about what had to happen. Her hair or her life. Well, shit. The hair would grow back.
Sarah turned on the razor, and with singular determination and steady hands, she shaved her hair off until she could see the scalp. The fucking tracker was going. Strands of her hair fell to the floor piece by piece. She’d leave some money in the bathroom for the clerk. He was going to have a mess and a half to clean after she went out the window.
Sarah rounded the corner towards the Marriot Marquis with her head down. Her makeshift shave job had to make her look deranged, and she was afraid to look in store windows. Fortunately, everything was normal in Time Square.
She’d left her bag of toys when she’d gone out the window, so she wouldn’t have the pleasure of introducing Zach to some fun play to get over her day. The lobby in the Marriot Marquis was huge, and when she walked in, the comfort of anonymity suited her. She tugged Zach’s hoodie around her head and looked around.
As far as she could tell, she’d not been followed, which didn’t surprise her since the tracker—which had been dug into her scalp similar to some blood sucking bug, and had led those fuckers back to her—was thankfully gone.
She looked at the clock on the wall as she approached the front desk. It was late. Almost after eleven. Wanting to be a hundred percent sure she didn’t lead them to Zach, she’d spent much more time than necessary running through the city and sitting on park benches.
Her lover was going to be frantic.
Since her new haircut made it unlikely a slight smile and a flirty gaze would maneuver her upstairs fast, she took another tactic. The second she reached the front desk, she started to cough. Nothing made someone more anxious to be rid of someone than the potential of germs.
“Hi. I’m here to join the Daniels party.” She coughed. And then she coughed again. For good measure, she doubled over.
“Here you go.” The key card slid across to her, and she took it. Twelfth floor. Room 1203.
She nodded at the poor desk clerk. “Thanks.”
Maybe she didn’t need the theatrics. Zach hadn’t told her if the whole thing was set from his organization or not. The only thing she’d known was she didn’t want to show an ID she didn’t have.
She made for the elevators, each step feeling a mile. If she’d missed a tracker and led the fuckers here, she would never forgive herself. No way had she come so close to get taken out of the elevator. Or shot to death in it.
The glass elevator she was in would be beautiful, except it stopped on every floor on its way to twelve. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself.
Externally, in addition to the current state of her hair, dark bags under her eyes caught her attention in her reflection. She’d never been in denial about being vain. If asked, she talked about her intelligence. Sarah had always been proud of her intellectual abilities.
Her long, straight dark brown hair was the icing on the cake for her. Sarah had always liked herself. Where other girls faltered in their self-confidence as teenagers, she really hadn’t. Wherever she went, people commented on her g
orgeous hair.
And damn it, she was growing it back.
The elevator dinged on twelve, and she walked off. Her ankle was sore, and for the first time, she noticed it. How long had it been aching? She’d slightly tripped on 6th Street forty-five minutes earlier. She was going to have to find some ice, and no way did she have the time to deal with a sprain.
Don’t fall apart. She gave herself a pep talk.
Tracking the numbers, she finally got to the room and with, somehow, a still steady hand, she stuck her key in the door and watched it turn green. She turned the handle to walk inside.
Zach stood right in front of the door.
“Shit. Sarah.” She was yanked into his arms. His hands were on her arms, and they squeezed. She didn’t mind. “What the fuck happened? Where have you been? Why weren’t you…?”
She knew the second he saw her, really got a look at what she looked like. Zach steeled his face, and the worried lover fled, replaced with hard warrior eyes. He kicked the door closed behind her. “Start talking.”
8
Zinc had been prepared to cut a swath through the population of New York to find Sarah if necessary, when she failed to appear at the hotel. He’d had about another minute in him of waiting, and then he would have gone to her handler’s apartment, held a gun to his head, and demanded answers. Orders or no orders
He tried to listen over the pounding of his heart as his eyes roamed her body for signs of obvious trauma other than her shaved head. She seemed okay. Tired, sweaty, and her pupils were a little more dilated than he would have liked. Most likely, she needed food, rest, and more than a single day without trauma to cool her.
A tracker? Why the fuck hadn’t the thought occurred to him? It was how they’d found her in the first place. She’d had to shave her head to run away. His hands tingled, and he knew he had to calm. There was no one for him to go and kill.
“Zach.” Her voice wavered. “I think I’m a little spent.”
“Come on, beautiful.” He took her hand. “Let’s make you comfortable.”
She laughed, a small sad sound. “Not at the moment, not beautiful.”
He stopped moving to stare. “Don’t you dare say that. Hair, no hair. I don’t give a shit. You are the most beautiful creature the world ever created. Insult yourself again, and fuck our roles, I’m putting you over my knee.”
Her face brightened, and some of the wariness left her eyes. “I thought asses were off limits.”
“Only mine.”
His head pounded, and he pushed the pain away. There was no time for his headache shit. She needed him and—
A knock sounded at the door, and Sarah grabbed his arms. “It’s them. The guys following me. I’m so sorry. They must know you killed my handler, and they’re after you. I led them here.”
She wasn’t being coherent. “I didn’t kill anyone. Plans have altered.” Although he might need to kill someone to know he’d done something to make her traumatic day better for her. She should never have been left alone. He was a big fucking idiot. “And those guys wouldn’t knock. The announcement is our backup. Do me a favor, stand in the corner, just in case.”
No more taking chances. He pulled out his gun as he approached the door. He’d not ordered any room service, and it was too late for the maids. So it was either his backup, finally arriving, or someone really had picked the wrong night to go to the wrong room. He was shooting first, asking later.
He looked in the peep hole and closed his eyes. Chrome had to be kidding. He’d sent two men, one of them was Platinum, a trained sniper and a good choice, the other was a black, blue, and bandaged Adam-Fucking-Steele. What had Chrome been thinking sending her brother here with all the emotion of their reunion plaguing everything, and his own issues with the man?
“I can hear you breathing.” Steele banged on the door again. “I’m not going away, so you can open it, or I’m going to take out my gun…”
Behind him, Platinum shook his head, and Zinc opened the door. “Steele. Platinum. Won’t you come in?” He extended his hand to welcome them into the room.
“Adam.” Sarah gasped behind him, her hands coming to her mouth. He took a deep breath. Whatever his issues with her brother were, he wasn’t going to spoil their reunion moment.
“Sarah.” Steele paused as he looked at her across the room. “Jesus, what happened to you? What did those fuckers do?”
She raised her eyebrows. “I could say the same thing, but I know who did that to you.”
Zinc nodded to Platinum. “Let’s go, I don’t know, somewhere.”
The thing about the sniper was he didn’t talk if he didn’t have to. So how the other guy had managed to find a woman and at some point, father a child was beyond Zinc. Didn’t women want to talk? Sarah certainly did.
Platinum nodded as they walked into the hall. Zinc checked to make sure his key was still in his pocket before he shut the door behind him.
“How’s it going?” Zach leaned against the wall.
“Good.” Platinum rocked back and forth on his heel to his toes. “You done being a jackass?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” He was being a bit of a jerk. Whether or not he was able to adjust his attitude yet, he wasn’t exactly sure.
Plat shook his head. “We fucking missed you. Like pain.”
Zach didn’t want to talk about his years away from them. Maybe not ever. “Look at you forming sentences.”
The sniper grinned at him. “Miracles do happen.”
Sarah moved before she knew she was going to. In a rush of momentum, she threw her arms around her big brother’s neck. He caught her, and for a second, neither spoke.
“Listen—”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to explain. I’ve had it all from Zach. I grasp it. There were lots of reasons the last three years happened. Some of them are mind blowing. The only thing which matters, you’re alive.”
A tear slipped from her eye, and she wiped it away. If she let those flow, another would follow, and a big snotty mess would happen. A big mess she did not need.
She pulled back. “I hear you’re in love.”
“I.” He shook his head before he nodded. “She’s excited to meet you. Sorry, talking with you is so surreal.”
Sarah nodded. “Good word.”
“Tell me what’s been happening.” Adam took a step away. “Who did that to your hair? Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?”
She opened her mouth and spit out the story. Well, almost all of it. There were certain parts her big brother never needed to hear. Ever. The tying Zach part was going to stay neatly tucked away and between the two of them.
Zach gave them ten minutes, it was all he could tolerate. His head was pounding harder, he and Platinum had done the catch-up thing as much as either of them would, and he needed to see Sarah again. The look on her face when she’d come through the door, what she’d had to do to her hair, and then Adam showing, he had to make sure she was okay.
He banged on the door before he opened it and strode in. Sarah and Adam both turned to look when he and Platinum entered. Sarah looked okay, there as some color back to her cheeks, and she had a smile formed on her face. He took a deep breath. She was okay.
Sarah walked toward him. “I’m going to give you two a little time. Come on, Platinum, you and I are going to get to know each other.” She breezed by him, stroking his arm as she passed. Platinum raised his eyebrows and then followed her back out to the hall.
“Sarah, honey, that’s not necessary.” The last thing he wanted was time with Adam. They weren’t going to sing kumbaya. There was nothing to say.
She blatantly ignored him and spoke to Plat instead. “Tell me, do you have a name other than Platinum?”
“Couple of them.”
The door closed behind them with a click, and he steeled his shoulders. If he managed to make it out of the room without breaking the furniture in frustration, he’d consider himself lucky.
“The other
day, before you put me in the hospital, you said something to me. A question. Want to ask it again?” Adam’s face was unreadable. It wasn’t because of the bandages, either. He’d hidden behind the military mask they all wore when on a mission, which threatened to take a left turn into seriously fucked.
“Why bother? You didn’t answer it then. Why now?”
“Jeez-us, Zach. Passive aggressive was never your style. You pulled off your fucking mask, and it was liking looking at a ghost. I couldn’t speak. Why the fuck else would I have not answered you?”
Zinc shrugged. “Maybe there was nothing to say.”
“There’s fuck lots to say, you ass.” Adam stalked toward him. Up close, Adam looked even worse. Who had let him come on this mission? “Ask me again.”
“Should you be out of the hospital?” Maybe he could send Adam home.
“Fuck you. Ask it again.”
Zach’s temper rose, and the throbbing headache—which had been a dull ache—surged to life as if it wanted to take him to the ground. He wouldn’t fall apart, couldn’t let it win right then. Gritting his teeth, he found the words again. “Why did you leave me there for them to collect me? To take my body? To destroy everything in my life I ever gave two shits about?”
“Because I fucked up. The world was coming down around me. You were dead. There were bullets flying everywhere. Titanium’s whole team was dead. Tungsten. Gold. All I could think about was getting the rest of them home. And I left you, and you were dead, and I beat myself up about it every day after. You know what? I’m not sorry. Because you’re alive, and so whatever circumstances took place so you could pull off your hood and beat me, then fuck yeah, great. You’re here. I’d do it again.”
Zach’s whole body went numb. He opened and closed his mouth several times because there were no words to say to adequately express, well, anything. “I had to watch you for three years…”
The Men of Elite Metal: Platinum, Zinc, & Francium Page 18
