“If you think this is convenient, I don’t want details about your every day . I have information from a reliable source that the competition hired your gunman. I wanted to talk to you about that tonight, before... You know.”
“I’ve been looking into the shootings from my side.” Lisa didn’t have a problem admitting it. It shouldn’t surprise Bill, but she wanted to gauge his reaction. “Whomever this guy is that did the hiring, he’s good at hiding things.”
“Everyone in our line of business is.”
Not this good. “I suppose so.”
“You’re mine to do with as I need, correct?” Whisk had a brilliant poker face. If he was lying, telling the truth, completely calm, or about to shit himself, none of it showed in his expression.
It was unnerving. “Are we really going over this again?”
“Fair enough. I need to regroup. Figure out next steps. You’re here. After tonight, it’s clear you’ve earned your reputation. I still don’t trust you, but you’ve got a reason for keeping me alive. Whether or not it’s the one you claim remains to be seen.”
Her thoughts exactly. “Your point is?”
“I want you here, watching my back, until I figure some things out.”
“Of course.” As with the dinner invitation, she’d take any chance she could to stay by his side. “Where are we headed?”
“Like I said, I have a cabin upstate.”
“You realize that cabin in the woods is a horror movie cliche for a reason.”
He smiled. It almost looked genuine. “Do you think I’m safer in the middle of a crowded city, where any person on the sidewalk could be hunting me, and any window or rooftop could hold the next sniper?”
“Not comforting.” Stopping to think about how much potential danger was in every place never was
“No one knows the property is mine. We’ll be discreet.”
Lisa saw so many holes in this plan, it might as well be a screen door. But the alternatives weren’t any better. “How close is the nearest town? Hospital or clinic? Gun shop?”
“We just passed the clinic, so an hour or so? Town is about fifteen miles out. It does big business during hunting season, so there are a couple of gun shops and a grocery store.”
Hunting season was a few months off, which meant fewer people and less chance of a stray bullet interrupting their getaway. Something to be grateful for.
Though, she’d stand out a lot more buying ammo. If it came down to it, could she have someone bring her some? She trusted her people, but odds were high Bill felt as safe around them as she did his men.
“I have a shotgun at the cabin, along with a couple boxes of shells.” He was either reading her thoughts or had the same concerns.
If they went through what both of them had on hand, they were fucked anyway. She was good, but she wasn’t John Wick. “That’ll work. In the morning I’ll head into town and pick up food. Supplies.”
She needed to figure out clothes, too. Could she play the part of the camping tourist who hadn’t packed for the weather, and pick up a bunch of basic gear from a gift shop without looking suspicious?
“Are you going to make us rough it?” Bill asked. “No lights or fires?”
That sounded horrible. They had enough waiting for them without forcing themselves to suffer. “If anyone is close enough to see smoke or lights, they’re going to know we’re in there regardless.” Pretending otherwise would look suspicious.
They spent the rest of the drive in relative silence, with Lisa watching the road behind them and Whisk watching what was ahead. The cabin was up a winding dirt road that his BMW struggled with, but they made it without the car losing any parts off the undercarriage.
There were other cabins in the area, but none were visible from his property.
She kept him at her back again as she swept the inside. It was clean, he said someone came out every few weeks to dust, and quiet.
“I have to admit, this isn’t what I expected,” she said as she finished examining every corner and closet. It didn’t take long.
Bill settled onto the couch in the living room. “I’ll bite. What did you expect?”
Odds were high she was about to offend him again. She was also past caring. She’d saved his life, he could cut her a little slack with her assumptions. “Something bigger. More grandiose.”
The cabin was a single floor with two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a living room. The decor was straight out of the rustic section of a furniture store.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Bill sounded anything but sorry.
Once upon a time she and Alex talked about escaping to a place like this, but as a retirement plan, not an occasional getaway spot. “Not disappointed at all. Every once in a while a surprise can be pleasant.”
“Assuming you’re not the kind of person who like the unknown, I’m glad you like it.”
She smiled. If they weren’t here because someone wanted him dead, this would almost be pleasant. “I need you in the smaller bedroom, though.” The one with no windows, and only one way in and out. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Thank you. Again.” He sounded genuine. “I don’t expect we’ll need to be here for more than a couple of days. I can sort out next steps by then. Until then... I’d tell you to sleep well, but I don’t suppose you will.”
“Let’s just say I’m going to be coffee’s bitch for a few days.”
He raised his brows.
“What?” She asked.
“Lucky coffee,” Bill teased.
A light laugh slipped out at the joke. “See you in the morning.”
Bill vanished into the other room, and Lisa worked on making herself comfortable on the sofa.
She needed to let her people know where she was. No, maybe not that detailed. At least get them a message that she was off the grid for a little while.
Realization slammed into Lisa like a freight truck. She’d seen this before. Sawyer had done it to Reagan. Used an intense, life-threatening situation to isolate her. Control who she interacted with, and what she saw and heard.
And Lisa had walked right into it.
Tension cranked through her, pushing aside any levity that had tried to creep its way in.
She had more experience than Reagan. She could make the best of this situation. Use it to her advantage.
Why did Whisk feel this was necessary, though? That one question gnawed at Lisa harder than the entire rest of the evening combined.
Chapter Fourteen
Coffee and bacon—modern society’s most tantalizing perfume.
Lisa frowned as consciousness sank in, bringing memories of yesterday along with it. Whisk told her last night there was no food in the house.
She followed her nose to the kitchen, to find Bill standing at the stove, cooking. He’d changed into jeans and T-shirt.
At least it wasn’t sweatshorts, Sawyer’s default when he was pissed off and wanted to pulp something with his fists, but only had a punching bag nearby.
She cleared her throat loudly.
Whisk glanced over his shoulder. “Morning.” His tone was pure cheer. “Coffee’s up, if you want. Mugs are in the cupboard and breakfast will be done soon.”
She fixed a glare on him.
“What’s wrong?” He slid several strips of bacon onto a plate.
Lisa crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. Un-fucking-believable. “Laying low and having me watch your back sound like a bunch of bullshit when the first thing you do once you’ve got a free moment is head into town.”
“I was up, you were asleep. It’s not a big deal. How do you like your eggs?”
Was she speaking a foreign language? Who was this man, and what did he do with the drug kingpin who had done his best to belittle her for several days? “I’ll make myself something later. We’re not here to play house.” She kicked away from the wall, crossed the room to grab a glass from the cupboard, and made a show of washing it before filling it with water from the tap.
It wasn’t that she thought he’d poisoned the food. The display was a reminder to him that she didn’t trust him.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time we’re here?” Bill cracked an egg over the frying pan.
Was she dreaming? She pinched herself hard enough to leave a red and white welt. It hurt. It didn’t wake her up. Then again, maybe pain was a part of this deceptively benign nightmare. “You brought me up here to protect you while you regroup. It’s hard to trust your motives on a good day, but after everything we went through last night, you thought it was okay to show your face on Day One of us being here?”
“What do you think my motives are?” He took a seat, and started in on his breakfast.
“Don’t know. That’s why I haven’t left yet.”
“So you’ll isolate me until you’ve made up a new answer that makes you happy?”
Nope. She wasn’t doing things this way. No way was he turning his intent back on her. “You picked the location. In doing so, you set the rules of this arrangement. I’m along for the ride at your request, and I’d rather not die in the process.”
“You take paranoid to a whole new level.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “First of all, that’s why you want me here, am I correct? And have you met the”—dead fucking psychopath—”man I work for?”
“Right. That again. Eggs are in the fridge. Help yourself. It’s going to be harder for you to earn my trust if you keep telling me how much I don’t have yours.”
That was convoluted.
“I’m not dim,” Bill said. “Jabberwock didn’t send you here as a gesture of good faith. You’re here to get close to me. Whether it’s for his reasons or yours...
They were back to laying things out. “And I’m here because you wanted to isolate me.”
“I suppose the person who uncovers the why first, wins.” He took a long swallow of his coffee.
Sawyer’s Wonderland was never this subtle. Not that she missed his version of reality, but this was a reflection of her life that clawed along her spine with its normalcy. “High stakes. My favorite kind.”
“Yeah? I’d have pegged you for more of a fillet or porterhouse gal. I hope you at least like a good rib eye. I had the butcher cut two for dinner tonight.”
“Did you just... make a steak pun?”
He winked. “I might have. Same butcher cut the bacon. Sure you don’t want some.”
It was tempting. She couldn’t avoid food and drink the entire time she was here because he’d been near it. He was drinking the same coffee and eating the same food. Food that was making her stomach growl, it smelled so good. “All right.”
Bill abandoned his meal to pull out her chair. He pushed it in as she sat, and placed a plate and a steaming mug in front of her.
The bacon really was good. The coffee was decent too.
“You a Mets fan?” Bill returned to his own seat. “Hoping to catch any games while you’re out here?”
Bullshit small talk. Something she was prepared for. “Red Sox. Poppa would roll over in his grave if he saw me cheering for the Mets. You enjoying the season so far?” She could take or leave baseball, but the bullshit glimpse into a past that wasn’t hers always reassured people. Besides, she knew Bill Whisk had season tickets for a box at Citi Field.
“I don’t make it to games much. I like having the option to incentives my guys. My business partners.”
At least part of that was a lie. Lisa had him watched before she showed up. He was at the games regularly, and frequently alone in that big box. “Smart thinking.”
“I picked you up a T-shirt and some sweats while I was in town.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at a plastic bag behind him on the counter. “Not sure what you want to do for clothes, but I didn’t figure you’d want to wear the same suit the entire time we were here.”
“Thanks.” Chiding him hadn’t done any good. Lisa couldn’t save him if he didn’t want to be saved, but that wasn’t what this was about. She just wished she knew what this entire excursion was about.
He finished before she did, and she offered to clean up. It was a relief to let him walk into the other room. An entire dialog of lies and bullshit was exhausting.
Lisa did finished breakfast, then did the dishes. The shirt Whisk brought her said I <3 New York and was a size too small. It would do for now. After full sweep of the perimeter in daylight, she took a quick shower and donned her new outfit.
She sent Trinity a message that she was off the grid. Hopefully for no more than few days.
Now what? No computer. No access to anything she couldn’t pull up on her phone. Fortunately, she had some fantastic encryption and custom VPN tunneling, courtesy of herself.
As long as she kept half her attention on the entrance, she could work while Bill did whatever it was he was up to. God, she wanted to know what that was. Patience was her virtue.
Lisa started downloading all of the research that had been done so far on the shooter, and flipped over to the news for a quick glance.
Murder in Manhattan
Businessman Bill Whisk Missing
Dead or Hiding?
The police had found the bodies at his building. “You need to see the news,” she called.
“Saw it. Got it under control.” Bill’s voice carried from the far room.
Messy. Sloppy. Careless. “I can—”
“I’ve got it,” he repeated, an edge in his voice. He’d survived this long. Though how was a mystery.
She dug into her data. Most of the obvious research was being done by hand. The more subtle stuff... that was Lisa’s specialty when she wasn’t pretending to babysit crime bosses. She spread digital fingers out to follow the exterminator call Trinity told her about. Spiders to follow IP addresses. Tracing each one back along as many points of contact as possible.
Wonderland’s specialty was making connections, and that gave her a massive database of professionals to match her results against. The shooter and the person hiring them may not be people Jabberwock had worked with in the past, but if they’d ever blipped on Lisa’s radar, she’d made a note.
The light in the room faded as the sun moved to the other side of the cabin. A glance at the clock told her she’d been working for hours. Tedious going on a phone, but she was producing results. It was almost three in the afternoon.
Her stomach growled. Figured it didn’t know she was hungry until it saw the time. Bill mentioned steak earlier. Maybe he was up for a late-lunch-slash-early-dinner. Was she already falling into this game of his? No. As with this morning, they had to eat. No reason to suffer needlessly.
She rubbed some moisture back into her eyes, cleared her work from her phone, and headed to his room. The door was open, so she stepped inside. The sound of running water caught her attention, drawing her toward the bathroom.
He’d left that door open as well. Reckless. Arrogant. Asshole.
She paused in the doorway, her attention locked on the shower. The clear glass was fogged with steam, hiding details but not letting enough of his shape through to show off the thick cords of muscle that ran along his arms, back, and legs. He was turned mostly away from her, palm pressed against the far wall, and forehead resting against his bicep.
She couldn’t make out the tattoos she knew were there, and the scars she assumed lay underneath. He was still an incredible sight, though. Heat thrummed under her skin as steam warmed her cheeks.
Gorgeous. She hadn’t exaggerated yesterday. If she could stick someone else’s brain in that body...
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth at the splash of fantasy that filled her thoughts.
He shook his head, and her heart caught. It was time to leave, before she got caught staring. Any minute now. She needed to walk away.
He dropped his hand and fisted his cock. It hardened as he stroked.
She could watch just a little longer.
Chapter Fifteen
Lisa’s breath caught as she watched
Bill glide his palm up and down his shaft, slowly at first. Her pulse hammered in her ears and throbbed between her legs.
The shower was small, but she could picture herself wrapping her legs around his waist. Those powerful thighs and arms of his pressing her to the wall. It would feel incredible to have that thick cock slide inside her.
She glided one hand under her shirt, and the other beneath the waistband of her sweats, lightly brushing her skin. A shock of pleasure raced through her, carried on the scents of shower gel and steam.
Bill was probably the exact opposite of someone like Dexter when it came to sex. He’d push hard. Demand everything. Leave dents in her skin and bruises on her back.
But he wouldn’t complain if she gave as good as she got.
She rolled a nipple between her fingers, pinching hard, the way she imagined he would. He’d nip lightly, the apply more pressure with his teeth, until she whimpered in both pleasure and pain. She’d return the favor, drawing her nails up his back, then digging into his shoulders.
The fantasy mingled in ghosted whispers along her skin, along with her touch. She arched her back, pelvis thrusting forward, and dipped her fingers between her folds. God, she was wet.
This was nothing like the Ecstasy-induced rush of being with Dexter. It was raw and real and ripped her breath from her throat in jagged pants of desperation. She stroked herself hard and fast, lost in the show of him jerking off.
Her pussy clenched as orgasm sped through her without warning. She kept fingering her clit, wanting to feel more. To draw the moment out.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning. If he turned and saw her... The thought was both tantalizing and terrifying.
Lisa pushed until her body shuddered away from her touch. She slumped back against the doorframe, mind floating in a pleasant haze, as she caught her breath.
Bill shuddered under the stream of water. His hips jerked, and he shot ribbons of cum against the tile.
When he was spent, he pressed his palm against the wall again, and resumed the posture she’d walked in on. The man was an asshole, but he was a stunning one carved from marble.
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