The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Because he had said something, had asked her a question. Had asked if—

  Lidiya mentally shook herself then quickly looked away as heat filled her face. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

  "You sure about that?"

  She looked back at him, surprised to see one dark brow arched over laughing eyes. "Yes, of course. I just—" The words died in her throat as the man wrapped his hand around hers and pulled it closer to his face. For one dizzying second, she thought he was going to kiss her palm. Outrage mingled with anticipation, muting the shock she felt at his forward behavior. The array of emotions lasted only a few seconds, quickly displaced by something else when he simply leaned forward to study the tips of her fingers.

  "No blisters. That's a good sign."

  Lidiya yanked her hand from his and curled her fingers against her palm. "Of course not. It wasn't that hot."

  "No, I guess not." The man stepped closer and wedged himself between her and the man on the next stool. He draped one arm against the bar and leaned forward, motioning to the bartender. "I'm ready for the tab when you get the chance."

  Lidiya ignored the unexpected disappointment that his words caused then carefully reached for a slice of pizza. She immediately dropped it again, not because it was still too hot but because she didn't want to risk dripping cheese and sauce all over her. Irritation flashed inside her, from the odd disappointment that the man was leaving and the sudden self-consciousness that his nearness caused. Both reactions were unaccustomed—and completely pointless. She wasn't here to flirt, wouldn't even know how to, not anymore, not when she had given up that part of her life two years ago.

  Not when she'd given up every part of her life.

  Lidiya grabbed a slice of pizza with a bit more anger than necessary and took a large bite. Washed it down with a sip of beer then took another bite. She'd eat her pizza, pay her bill, then leave. Then she'd go home and approach the situation the way she should have from the start: with the same cool, methodical detachment that she used for all her jobs.

  And if that failed, she'd pack her small collection of belongings, change identities, and disappear from sight in another part of the country.

  She watched the man next to her from the corner of her eye, studied the smooth movements of his hand as he reached into his back pocket and withdrew a worn leather wallet. Maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought because he turned toward her, a grin teasing his lips. His gaze darted to her mouth then quickly lifted to hers.

  "Pizza's good?"

  "Yes. Fine."

  His grin grew a little wider. He tossed money on the bar, his amused gaze never leaving hers. "I'm John, by the way."

  "Lidiya." The introduction surprised her enough that she pronounced her name the way her grandfather always had, LEE-dee-yah. She cleared her throat and said it again, this time with the more common pronunciation of li-dee-uh.

  If John noticed the way she stumbled over her own name, or the differences in how she said it, he gave no indication. He offered her another smile then grabbed one of the napkins and held it out to her. "You have a little bit of sauce on your cheek."

  She yanked the napkin from his hand and quickly dabbed at her burning face. His warm chuckle only embarrassed her more and she looked away, her mind unable to form any coherent thoughts. Not that it mattered because she wouldn't have been able to force any words out anyway.

  "It was nice meeting you."

  She nodded then forced herself to turn back to him but it was too late because he was already walking away. She watched as he threaded his way through the crowd and pushed through the door before disappearing into the cool spring night.

  Lidiya watched the door for several long moments, expecting it to open again. Hoping it would open again. Not out of any silly hope that John would come back—that would be irrational and foolish—but in the hope that the elusive Chaos would show up.

  The door stayed closed.

  She sighed and glanced at her watch, frowned when she realized more time had passed than she thought. It was already fifteen minutes past their scheduled meeting time. Would Chaos show up?

  She swallowed back disappointment of another kind then slowly finished her pizza. It had been foolish to think she could expect help from someone she didn't even know. Yes, she had worked with Chaos in the past, had even struck up what she thought of as a casual friendship with the online presence. That didn't mean they were actually friends—how could they be, when she didn't even know if Chaos was a man or a woman?—and it certainly didn't mean she could go to him for help.

  She was alone, the same way she'd been alone for the last few years. Maybe even more now. It didn't matter. She'd figure things out the way she always did. And if she couldn't...well, she could simply make herself disappear again. Only this time, she'd make sure there were additional safeguards in place.

  The bravado of her words had faded somewhat twenty minutes later, when she realized there was no chance of Chaos showing and that she truly was alone. She paid her bill then carefully made her way through the crowd, unable to resist one last hopeful look around.

  But nobody paid attention to her.

  She pushed through the door then paused just outside, letting the cool night air wrap around her as she pulled the keys from her small purse. The soles of her bulky shoes were nearly silent against the asphalt as she walked toward her car. A truck was parked next to her vehicle and she hesitated as an unexpected and unwelcome wariness suddenly filled her at the thought of moving between the truck and her little Toyota.

  Nonsense. The wariness was nothing more than the stress of the last few days coupled with the disappointment of the night's failure. It was just a truck—there were quite a few of them in the parking lot, enough that her little car was outnumbered. There was absolutely nothing odd or ominous about the fact that one of the many trucks here just happened to be parked next to her car. Lidiya shook off the sensation and quickened her steps, forced herself to breathe normally as she stepped into the darkness between the two vehicles and moved toward her driver's door.

  She had just inserted the key into the lock when motion from her left caught her attention. A large shadow moved toward her, the silhouette darker than the bushes behind it. Panic, sharp and biting, clawed at her, rendering her motionless for a split-second. Some long-hidden survival instinct kicked in and she turned, ready to run, when the shadow grabbed her from behind. A low voice whispered in her ear but the words made no sense, not when she was suddenly struggling. One strong arm clamped around her waist with enough force to push the air from her lungs. She tried to catch her breath, to inhale so she could scream for help but a large hand closed over her mouth, effectively silencing her.

  "Lee! Be quiet!"

  Another wave of cold fear washed over her, this one more potent than the last. She froze, held immobile by her own terror for a few heart-stopping seconds.

  It was over. He had found her. Was this how it would end? With her standing here, helpless? With her lifeless body found rolled beneath her small car in a parking lot surrounded by strangers?

  No!

  Not now. Not here. Not tonight.

  She clenched her hand around the keys and started swinging blindly, hoping to stab her attacker. The arms tightened around her, the man's voice low and harsh as he spoke into her ear again. The words made no sense, barely heard as they were through the rush of blood pounding in her head. She reached back with her arm, made another stabbing motion with the keys then felt tears burn her eyes when the only weapon she had fell to the ground. Panic descended on her and she struggled even harder, kicking and twisting until she was pinned between the side of her car and the hard body behind her.

  Lidiya twisted her head, felt the hand covering her mouth slip. She didn't stop to think, just bit down, hard, until the attacker yanked his hand away with a muttered curse. She opened her mouth to scream but the only sound that came out was a harsh wheeze. Then the man's hand was back over her mouth and she knew it was t
oo late.

  He had found her. There was nothing she could do.

  And now she would be made to pay for the secrets she held...and for the sins that tainted her blood.

  Chapter Three

  Holding the woman still was like wrangling a damn eel tangling itself on a fishing line. Panic made her twist and writhe in his arms and damn if it hadn't fucking hurt when she bit him. He was surprised she hadn't drawn blood, knew it wasn't from lack of trying on her part.

  Derrick readjusted his grip on the struggling woman and spoke in her ear once more. His voice was a low whisper, soft and soothing.

  "Lee, stop. It's me. Chaos. I'm not going to hurt you." And fuck, he hoped it was Lee. If it wasn't, he'd be in some serious deep shit if anyone caught him. Part of him was pissed that hadn't happened yet. Jesus, didn't anyone keep an eye on the fucking parking lot? It was too fucking easy for someone up to no good to sneak around unnoticed.

  Not his problem. Not tonight. Right now, his only concern was the woman doing her level best to leave a trail of bruises along his shins with each kick of her feet. Thank God she was wearing shoes and not heels—he didn't want to think of the marks those fucking things would leave behind.

  He readjusted his grip and eased his body away from hers, out of range from those weakening attempts at kicking him into submission. The amusement he'd felt earlier when he saw her walk into the small country bar was rapidly fading. He'd known it was her almost immediately—not just from the outfit she had on, but from the way she stood out in the crowd. Even if she had been wearing clothes that had blended in, his instinct would have known it was her.

  And wasn't that a real kick in the ass? To realize that his hacker buddy Lee wasn't some geeky-ass guy like he'd expected, but was a woman instead.

  A frightened, panicked woman on the verge of hysteria.

  "Lee, stop! It's Chaos." He repeated the words, his voice as reassuring as possible. He could loosen his hold on her, let her go, but he had no doubt that she'd take off running, screaming as she did so—maybe after raking her nails down his face.

  "Lee!" He whispered her name a final time then finally turned her around, making sure to keep her arms pinned to her side so she couldn't lash out at him. Her head fell back, the terror on her pale face slowly fading as she stared at him through shadowed gray eyes. Too damn bad for him that the terror was morphing into shock.

  Her chest rose and fell with each short gasp of air she struggled to pull between her full, parted lips. Her gray eyes were wide with shock, vacant except for the shadows of terror lingering in their depths. The last of his earlier amusement disappeared. Fuck, he'd gone about this whole thing all wrong. Had made too many assumptions—

  And they'd all been wrong.

  His fault for assuming to begin with.

  He should have known she wasn't expecting him. Should have known that she had no idea how to play the games he was a former master at. Her cryptic message. The location for the meet. Hell, even her outfit—all of it was wrong. He was more convinced than ever that she was a novice at this kind of thing.

  What the fuck was going on? Was she playing some kind of game with him? Or did she really need his help?

  No, this wasn't a game. Her earlier terror and panic had been far too real. Her shock now was far too real. Whatever was going on wasn't some kind of set-up.

  Which meant he had totally botched his approach tonight. The last time he'd made a mistake like that, people had died—the wrong people.

  Jesus. He hadn't thought about that night in almost three years, there was no reason for him to be thinking about it now. And he wouldn't be, except for the terrified shadows in Lee's eyes as she stared at him.

  Memory of another pair of eyes seared him. Dark brown eyes, wide with trust that quickly changed to horror. Filled with pain. With betrayal. He pushed away the memory before it could completely form. That had been years ago, in his other life. This wasn't the same, not even close. This wasn't a mission, this wasn't life-or-death. This was...he didn't know what the fuck it was.

  Long-lashed lids slowly closed over shadowy-gray eyes as the woman blinked. There was still fright and a hint of shock in the depths of her eyes but the outright terror was gone.

  That had to be a good sign, right? Progress. Derrick would take what he could get.

  "Are you okay now?"

  Lee stared up at him, blinked again. Nodded then shook her head before nodding once more. She tried to take a step back but he still had a grip on her arms so all she succeeded in doing was stumbling against her car. He readjusted his grip, steadying her as one trembling hand latched onto his bare forearm. She gasped and quickly released him, her eyes widening a fraction of an inch. Not in terror this time, but in surprise.

  What the fuck?

  She curled her hand in front of her and studied him again. Feathered brows pulled low over her eyes and a small frown marred the smooth, pale skin of her forehead. "You're Chaos?"

  "In the flesh."

  Her frown deepened. "But you said your name was John."

  He stared at her, his face carefully blank. Jesus. She couldn't be that fucking naive, could she? "It was a ruse."

  "You mean it was a lie."

  Derrick shrugged but said nothing. Let her call it what she wanted, it didn't matter to him.

  "How do I know you're not lying now and just saying that you're Chaos?"

  "You know that many people named Chaos, huh?"

  "It's a valid question. You could have hacked into my system and found my files. You could be someone else pretending to be Chaos."

  Derrick blinked against the dizzying speed of her words but, oddly enough, had no trouble following her logic. Yes, he could have hacked into her system, except—

  "Pretty sure you told me over a year ago that you had fail-safes and alarms set up in case that happened."

  "Yes but—"

  "And if I was an imposter, do you really think I'd be doing nothing more than standing here, having this conversation right now?"

  She narrowed her eyes and deliberately lowered her gaze to the hands still wrapped around her arms before looking back at him. Amusement warred with irrational anger at the implication in her silent look.

  "Lady, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already." He released his hold on her and stepped back, just enough to give her the illusion that she was free to go. She wasn't, of course—if she tried to bolt, he'd just grab her again.

  If he wanted to. He wasn't so sure he did.

  "You're the one who sent the message for help." He allowed a corner of his mouth to kick up in a quick grin. "Although I have to tell you, that funny little ad you used to disguise the message isn't something I've ever needed."

  A small blush stained her cheeks, visible even in the shadows surrounding them. But instead of looking away as he expected, she crossed her arms in front of her and tilted her head to the side. "And yet you opened it. I wonder why that is."

  Derrick's amusement quickly vanished. "I opened it because I knew it was from you. And by the way, you screwed up, sweetheart."

  "I most certainly did not!"

  "You routed the email using the same server from a few months ago. I've never known you to use the same server twice so yeah, you screwed up."

  "I did it on purpose, hoping you'd notice." She released a long breath, the tension that had been wrapped around her finally easing a bit with her exhale. Relief danced in the depths of her gray eyes a second before she quickly blinked the emotion away. "You're really Chaos, aren't you?"

  He inclined his head in the barest of nods. "I am."

  She tilted her head to the side once more, her ash brown hair falling over her shoulder with the motion. A few quiet seconds passed by before she spoke. "You're not exactly what I imagined."

  "You're not what I imagined either." He ran his gaze from her thick hair, down along the slight curves hidden by her shapeless clothes. Lower, to the very sensible, butt-ugly shoes she was wearing. His gaze revers
ed, looking over her once more before finally meeting her narrowed eyes. One corner of his mouth kicked up in another quick grin. "Lee."

  "I can hardly be blamed for your wrong assumptions."

  She had him there—not that he'd admit it. And the time for banter was over—although he was gratified to see that she had some spark in her, instead of being the meek, naive woman she had first appeared to be when she walked into the bar an hour ago.

  Derrick straightened, all business now. "Why the cloak-and-dagger summons? What's so urgent that you wanted to meet in person?"

  Tension seized her again, tightening her shoulders and pulling her mouth into a tight line. Shadows filled her eyes and she looked around, as if suddenly remembering where they were and why.

  "I need your help. I think—"

  Her words were cut off by the sound of shattering glass as her car window exploded. She screamed, the sound one of surprise rather than pain, quickly cut off when Derrick pushed her to the ground and covered her body with his. Hands pushed at him, the fingers trembling with panic as she clawed at his arms, his chest.

  "Don't move!" He hissed the words in her ear, already dismissing her struggles as he strained to listen.

  "But—"

  He clamped a hand over her mouth and shook his head. Sent her a silent warning with one sharp look then strained his ears, still listening.

  But he heard nothing. No sounds of running feet. No shouts. No cries for help.

  No telltale click of a round being chambered, no metallic whisper of a slide, no click of a hammer being pulled back.

  How far away had the shot come from? Far enough that he hadn't heard it, and that fucking worried him. Was the shooter already moving closer? Getting into a better position to take another shot?

  His mind ran through a dozen different scenarios, calculating risks and weighing odds. His truck was parked five spaces down, on the other side of Lee's car. It was either wait here like a pair of sitting ducks—

  Or make a run for it and hope for the best.

  He stared down at the woman beneath him, her body motionless, her eyes wide with shock. Not helpless shock, though, and for that he gave thanks.