Rules in Defiance

by Nichole Severn

  “First off, I’ve been doing this job long enough to know the risks, and so has my team. They’re prepared for the worst. Trust me when I say they can take care of themselves. The son of a bitch was lucky Braxton didn’t put a hole in him for coming near his girls.” Elliot stood, bringing her in to him. “And, second, you’re not going to lose me. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. No matter the cost.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Then I can tell you our next move. If the killer knows what’s on that drive, it makes sense that he knew Alexis. Maybe had a relationship with her.”

  “I’m impressed.” He focused on the laptop as she pulled away from him and sat on the bar stool. “Did she ever mention a boyfriend? An ex? Someone she spent a lot of time with at the lab?”

  “Not that I remember, but the company looks down on interoffice relationships.” Waylynn’s fingers hit the keyboard in rapid succession and the screen flickered to life. “She wouldn’t have told me she was seeing someone in the lab, but I was able to log into Genism’s servers to recover all my research that’d been destroyed. If your teammate wasn’t able to decrypt the hard drive before it was stolen, we might be able to find out what Alexis stored on it by reviewing her server history. So far the medical records I was able to access through the server haven’t turned anything up on recent hand injuries, but I’m searching for Alexis’s trail now.”

  Anticipation burned through him. They’d been waiting for a break in the investigation, waiting to see what Waylynn’s assistant had died for. Elliot forced himself to breathe evenly. He’d been waiting to find the bastard who’d dared come after his woman. Because she was his to protect, his responsibility. But he didn’t believe in luck. Didn’t believe in coincidence either. Her boss had gone as far as to put a tracking device in Waylynn’s phone in order to take her out himself. There was no telling how far the lab executives she’d dedicated ten years of her life to would go to protect themselves and the company. “When did you find out you still have access to the servers?”

  “After you went outside.” Her fingers stilled on the keyboard, but she didn’t look up at him. “This isn’t going to define the rest of my life. The pain, death and violence have been threatening to pull me under, but I’m going to keep my head above water. I’m going to rebuild my life and I’m going to rebuild my research.” She nodded once. “I’ve done it once. I can do it again. You showed me that.”

  Damn straight she could. And he’d be right there at her side. Her biggest supporter. No matter how long it took, he’d help her rebuild everything she’d lost and more. “Did you practice that in front of the mirror?”

  “Maybe a little.” Her laugh cut through him and in the span of three seconds, it was the most exhilarating and life-altering experience of his life.

  He loved this woman. Down to his bones, couldn’t live the rest of his life without her, without loving her. Waylynn Hargraves was the strongest, most fearless woman he’d ever known. She’d stared death in the face and laughed. She’d decided fear wouldn’t control her as it would so many others in the same situation and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Possessiveness exploded through him. He reached out, curling a strand of hair around his finger. Whatever that meant for their future—if they had a future together—he didn’t know. But he was willing to give it a try. Screw the past. His parents, the prison guards. They were nothing like the woman in front of him. She wouldn’t try to imprison him, wouldn’t betray him. She didn’t have the heart. “If I haven’t made it clear before, if you do ever end up killing someone, I’ll help you bury the evidence.”

  “Just what every woman wants to hear.” Another flash of that brilliant smile. The laptop beeped, bringing her focus back to the screen. “I’ve got it. Looks like Alexis was singling out certain subjects and separating them into a new file.”

  “What made those subjects special?” Elliot rested his uninjured arm against the back of the chair and leaned in over her shoulder. Her breathing patterns changed and he couldn’t help but revel in the knowledge that his closeness was the reason. He’d done that to her, made her breath hitch, affected the pulse at the base of her neck.

  “I don’t know. They’re labeled by their trial numbers I assigned to each volunteer. No names, but every one of them were positive for the warrior gene.” Waylynn leaned back in the chair. “I won’t be able to match them without the waivers I handed over to the legal department when the subjects applied to be part of the trial.”

  “Can you access those files from the servers, too?” he asked.

  “It’s worth a try.” Waylynn clicked off the current screen and slid her fingers across the track pad. A minute—maybe two—later, she shook her head. “I don’t have access to those files. We’d need someone from Legal to get them for us, but I know someone who might be able to help.” She rolled her lips between her teeth, then headed for the stairs without another word. Within thirty seconds, she hit the bottom step, holding a small white rectangle between her fingers. “Blake Henson gave me his card back at the scene. He wanted me to call him today to work out reinstating me with the lab, but he might be willing to help us if we explain someone in his department is a murderer.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Elliot ran a hand down his beard. “We’re going to ask an employee paid to protect the company he works for to hand over confidential corporate documents to help our illegal investigation.”

  “You think it’s a bad idea?” Uncertainty deepened the lines between her eyebrows as she studied the business card, and damn, he had to fight the urge to smooth them away.

  “No, I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.” He closed the distance between them. “We’ll find him. No matter how long it takes or how many different plans we need to come up with. We’re in this together.”

  “So you’re not going to try to sneak out of the cabin in the middle of the night to follow evidence again, then?” she asked.

  “I knew you were going to hold that against me.” He framed her jaw with one hand and moved his mouth over hers lightly. An explosion of that unchecked need pressed his body against hers. “But, no. For better or worse, you’re stuck with me.”

  Her face lit up and every muscle he owned coiled tight. She rose up on her toes, leveling that intoxicating blue gaze with his. Cocking her head to the side, she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, careful to avoid the hole in his shoulder. “It’ll probably be for worse.”

  A laugh rumbled through him. Then he kissed her. Hard. Fast. It was too late to turn back now. She’d claimed him from the inside out and he would have handed his soul over willingly. He came up for air but couldn’t suppress the wild addiction he had for her flooding through him. “I knew that the moment I met you.”

  * * *

  WELL, THEY WEREN’T best friends anymore.

  The haze surrounding her brain had taken a stronger hold than before, to the point she’d lost track of time. Nothing remained but him and his clean, masculine scent in her lungs. Three days. That was all it’d taken to change her life, to discover a connection stronger than the one her genetics had forged on her future. She wasn’t sure how long they’d stood there, his mouth on hers, her pressed against him. Stepping back for air, Waylynn flitted her fingers over the edge of the gauze taped to his shoulder. They’d gotten distracted. She set her palms against his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her touch, and backed off. “As much as I’d love to make out with you all day, we need to change your bandage, then call my lawyer.”

  “Forget it. Let it get infected.” He moved to close the space she’d put between them.

  She countered his approach, a rush of gut-clenching delirium threatening to help her get lost in him all over again, but she wouldn’t wait for whoever’d framed her to find her first. “That was a nice way of me saying we need to brush our teeth and you most definitely need to shower. You still smell like smoke.”

&nbs
p; “Yeah, all right.” Elliot moved to the single kitchen drawer and pulled the first aid kit free. “But as soon as I’m done, I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands off you.”

  “I’ve been warned.”

  A few moments later, the door clicked softly, followed by the sound of water hitting tile as he disappeared into the bathroom. She picked up her lawyer’s business card and Elliot’s phone from the granite countertop. The zing of cold stone against her skin cleared her head of him. For now. What she wouldn’t give to forget everything that’d happened the last few days, but without that chaos, she and Elliot would’ve kept up with their evasive dance. She would’ve come home from the lab every night, compete in the lyric trivia battle they’d created, drink his beer and go inside her apartment. Alone. Never knowing what it’d be like to kiss him, never knowing his touch, or what it’d feel like to have the kind of protection he offered. Never knowing love.

  Inhaling deep, she fought to keep her head in the game. It wouldn’t last long. Elliot Dunham had worked his way beneath her skin, down into her bones, and had become part of her. But she’d take advantage of the clarity to find the Genism employee who obviously wanted her dead. Dialing Blake Henson’s number from his business card, she brought the phone to her ears.

  Two rings. Three.

  “Come on, pick up.” Nervousness lodged in her throat. According to Alexis’s corporate server history, someone in the legal department had orchestrated this entire puzzle. Blake Henson was the only resource they had to find their suspect. Without his willingness to hand over confidential documents identifying the subjects of her trials—the same subjects Alexis had compiled in her list—she and Elliot had nothing. She’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, paranoid about the next attack. She bounced on her toes as anxiety clawed up her throat. “Pick up the phone.”

  The line clicked. “Blake Henson.”

  Relief crashed through her. “Mr. Henson, it’s Waylynn. Sorry, Dr. Hargraves. You know, the former employee currently under investigation for murdering my lab assistant.”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell. I’m kidding, Dr. Hargraves. Of course I recognize your voice.” A deep laugh reached through the line. “I was getting worried you wouldn’t call, but I’m about to meet with the board of directors about your reinstatement. Can I call you back?”

  “Actually, I wasn’t calling about that. I need your help with something else.” She dug the corner of his business card into her index finger. This had to work. There weren’t any other options. “According to the Genism server history, my assistant was in the middle of compiling a list of subjects who volunteered for trials testing for the warrior gene. Each volunteer filled out a waiver before the trials began and was assigned a subject number to guard their privacy—”

  “But you need the waivers to identify them to help clear your name of Ms. Jacobs’s murder,” Blake Henson said.

  “Yes.” Her throat threatened to close, and she gripped the business card harder. Would he help them, or would he report her request back to the board and terminate any chance she had of getting her job back? She didn’t know him well enough to make a guess. He’d defended her during Anchorage PD’s interrogation because it’d been his job—to protect Genism Corporation employees. But now that she wasn’t an employee any longer... “I know what I’m asking you to do, but you’re the only chance I have of finding who killed my assistant.”

  Seconds ticked by in silence, a full minute.

  She checked the screen to ensure the call was still connected, but he hadn’t hung up. Was he having the receptionist call the police as they spoke? Waylynn breathed through the pressure building behind her sternum. “Mr. Henson?”

  “You said Ms. Jacobs was compiling a list of subjects who tested positive for the warrior gene. The only way she would’ve identified them was if someone from the legal department gave her the very same documents you’re asking me to hand over.” The lawyer’s voice lowered to a whisper, and she had to remember he was about to meet with the board concerning her reinstatement. “Does that mean you think one of my colleagues is a murderer?”

  The click of the bathroom door put her face-to-face with a wall of muscle that threw her saliva glands into overdrive. The breath rushed out of her as the raw edges of his wound glimmered under the single lightbulb above the counter. Elliot carried fresh gauze and tape at his side but didn’t move to repatch the bullet wound. She hit the button for speakerphone to bring him into the conversation. “I’m not sure, but anything you can provide may help the investigation.”

  “If I get you the documents you’re asking for, I could lose my job. I could get sued by the lab, and believe me when I say they have a horde of bulldog attorneys I’ve worked with for years who will make sure I never practice law again.” His hesitation slithered through her. One second. Two. “You’ll have to meet me out of the city, away from Genism. Can you meet at Cliffside Marina in Whittier in two hours? Alone?”

  Elliot shook his head slowly, a hint of that raging violence consuming his gaze. Gripping the towel around his hips, he accentuated the bruises and cuts along his white knuckles.

  This was the only chance they had of uncovering what got Alexis Jacobs killed and why someone had framed her for it. Waylynn kept her focus on the man in front of her. “I’ll be there.”

  “See you then.” Blake Henson ended the call.

  “What were you thinking agreeing to meet him alone?” Elliot asked.

  “I was thinking it’d be nice if I didn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life, that I could end this nightmare, and move on.” She set his phone back onto the counter, taking a deep breath. “I told you. Blake Henson isn’t the man who drugged and framed me for Alexis’s murder. He’s taking a risk to help us.”

  “Someone is out to destroy you, and we’ve already proved your boss was involved, Doc. What makes you think whoever started this doesn’t have someone else working for him?” Elliot ran a hand through his still-wet hair, shaking his head. The violence had cooled in his eyes, but tension tightened the muscles down his back as he turned away from her. “There’s no way I’m letting you meet this guy by yourself.”

  “Here, let me help.” She reached out for him, sliding her hand over his arm. Taking the gauze and tape from him, she crowded him until he sat on the bar stool. Someone had gone out of their way to destroy her and she wasn’t stupid enough to meet her lawyer on her own. Didn’t matter Elliot had lied about investigating her past or the fact he might pick up and leave Anchorage at the drop of a hat. She wanted him by her side. Forever. Because that was what love was. Compromising. Strong. Honest. The con man, the MIT drop out, the investigator, she loved them all. Waylynn cut a piece of gauze to size, then placed his hand over it while she ripped the last two pieces of tape from the roll to secure it in place.

  He clamped a hand over hers as she pressed down the tape, running the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. Her breath caught as he dragged her closer, the towel around his hips riding up his powerful thighs. Clean man and a hint of their burned breakfast from that morning filled her lungs, but every cell in her body stood at attention. For him. “Your safety is the only thing that matters to me, Doc. You’re mine to protect. I failed once. It won’t happen again.”

  “I know.” But if her lawyer suspected she’d brought backup or that she’d been followed, he’d disappear with the files they needed to clear her name. Elliot’s body heat beat against her and she finally looked up into those mesmerizing gray eyes. “What if I’m the only one Blake Henson sees? You’ll be there, but in the background. Close enough to get to me if something goes wrong and we’ll get what we need to identify the subjects Alexis was focused on.”

  “I’m calling in backup.” He pushed to his feet, a corner of the gauze still free. “If the bastard comes at you again, we’ll be ready.”

  “If that will make you feel better,
then let’s do it.” Hell, having an entire team of trained professionals made her feel better. She slid her thumbnail around the empty roll of medical tape. “You ran out of tape, but I think I might have some in the first-aid kit I brought from my apartment.”

  He pulled her back into him by the hand, planting a hard rush-inducing kiss on her lips. “I’m going up to get dressed anyway and you still need to brush your teeth. I’ll get it.”

  “All right. It should be in the bottom of my bag.” Her fingers slipped from his as he headed upstairs. A smile played on her lips as he threw the towel over the balcony and she bit down on her thumbnail to keep herself in place. Together forever? That was a lot of horrible ’90s country battles. Turning her attention back to the laptop and not to her imagination of him upstairs, she pulled more of her research off the servers as fast as she could before the IT department cut off her access. It was a miracle her login had worked this long. “Did you find the tape?”

  Hardwood protested under his weight as Elliot came back down the stairs. “What the hell is this?”

  Waylynn lifted her gaze, the smile disappearing. Her hand automatically clenched the edge of the granite countertop as she locked on her overnight bag in his hands and the gun she’d hidden in the bottom. No. No, no, no, no. She straightened, trying to control the panic exploding behind her sternum. “Elliot, listen to me, it’s not what you think.”

  “Really?” He moved in on her, all predator and her the prey. “Because this looks a lot like the gun that was used to shoot your father fifteen years ago.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Betrayal didn’t start with big lies, but with small secrets.