The Warrior: DERRICK (Cover Six Security Book 4)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  She brushed the hair from her face and looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. Maybe she was, maybe she'd been so distracted last night that she hadn't paid any attention. Or maybe she was just assuring herself that it was the same room, that he wasn't pulling a fast one on her.

  "Who were those men?"

  "I work with them. They're safe." To her, anyway. But overall? Hell no. Each of them could be efficiently deadly when needed, even Wolf, with his cover model good looks and laidback surfer-boy style. Especially Wolf—

  But Lee didn't need to know that.

  Derrick moved to the small refrigerator in the corner of the room and pulled out a bottle of water. He uncapped it then handed both to Lee. "Stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

  She ignored the bottle in her hand and stepped toward him, uncertainty and disbelief and even a little fear flashing in her eyes for a split second before she blinked it away. "You're leaving me here?"

  "You're safe, Lee. Not one of those men would do anything to hurt you. I trust them with my life, okay?"

  She didn't want to believe him—that haunted, hunted expression in those big gray eyes told him that much. But she didn't argue, just slowly nodded and moved to the polished table. She pulled a chair out, dropped into it...then just sat there.

  Derrick hesitated then grabbed the remote from the shelving unit behind him. He aimed it at the huge television hanging on the opposite wall then slid the remote across the table. "Find something to watch. That'll kill some time for you."

  He glanced around to make sure there was nothing she could get into then stepped out of the room—

  And walked straight into Zeus.

  "Mind telling me what the hell's going on?"

  "Later." Derrick pushed past the man, bit back a growl when Zeus kept pace with him.

  "Later, my ass. Who is she?"

  "A friend." The truth, as far as it went.

  "Why is she here?"

  "She needs help."

  "What kind of help?"

  "Just...help. That's all." Derrick quickened his pace but Zeus kept up with him, kept hammering at him with each step. They finally reached Derrick's office when the other man grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around then leveled that cold amber gaze on him.

  "Dammit, Chaos. I want details. You can't just bring some woman in here. And you sure as hell can't say she needs help without explaining what the fuck is going on."

  Derrick bit back an oath and forced himself not to yank his arm from Zeus's grip. At least, he didn't yank it too hard. He clenched his jaw, sucked in a deep breath, quickly released it as he made his decision.

  "You remember when TR had that trouble last year?" Trouble? That was an understatement. But Zeus knew exactly what he was talking about so there was no need to elaborate.

  "Yeah. What about it?"

  Derrick nodded in the general vicinity of the conference room. "She's the one who hacked into the files and figured out the emails were coming from the Senator."

  Zeus's head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself fucking whiplash. "She's your hacker buddy?"

  "Yeah. That's Lee."

  "I thought Lee was a guy."

  "No shit. So did I."

  Zeus frowned, his silence heavy and weighted. "Are you sure that's Lee? She's not just pulling a con on you?"

  "Positive, boss man."

  "Holy fucking shit. I feel stupid."

  Derrick laughed, the sound short and mirthless. "Welcome to the club."

  "So what kind of trouble is she in? What do you need us to do?"

  "Nothing. I've got it handled." He didn't but only because he still had no fucking clue what was going. Damn if he was going to admit that to the man in front of him.

  "Dammit, Derrick, we talked about this—"

  "I said I've got it. I'll call if I need you."

  "Biggs—"

  "It's handled. By the way, I'm taking a few days off. Disappearing for a while."

  "Chaos, dammit—"

  Derrick cut him off with the simple act of slamming the office door in his face. But it didn't save him from the third degree, not when he turned around and saw TR leaning against his desk. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, the toe of one boot tapping impatiently against the floor. The intimidating image she was trying to project was severely hampered by the growing baby bump stretching the front of her sweater.

  "What letter are we up to now?"

  "K. And forget it, we're not playing that game today." She tilted her head to the side. "Who is she?"

  "Jesus, TR, you were standing right there the entire time. Don't tell me you weren't listening to every word."

  A shadow dimmed the blueness of her eyes and she reached up, almost absently, to trace the thin scar that ran along her cheekbone. The scar was courtesy of Scott Nelson, the unhinged stalker who'd been turned loose on TR last year because of a story she'd been writing for the small paper where she used to work. Only Nelson had become fixated on Mac and used TR to draw him into a trap.

  The trap had backfired and the man was now pushing up daisies, to absolutely nobody's regret.

  TR realized what she was doing and quickly dropped her arm to the side, her fingers curling against her palm in a small fist. An expression of impatient anger briefly crossed her face, there and gone in the blink of an eye.

  "That's really Lee?"

  "Yeah."

  "I need to thank her—"

  "No. Not yet, anyway." The last thing he needed was TR talking to Lee. The entire idea gave him the chills but he wasn't sure why. "I need you to do something else for me."

  "Like what?"

  "Shopping. The only clothes she has is what she's wearing."

  "I was wondering why she didn't have on any shoes." TR pushed away from the desk and reached for the credit card he had just pulled from his wallet. "Any particular kind of clothes?"

  Derrick paused, thinking. He knew exactly where they were going, now that he'd made up his mind—which he'd only done while he was talking to Zeus. He hadn't planned on disappearing for a few days but the more he thought about it, the more his gut said it was what they needed to do.

  He just didn't want to focus on why, not yet, at any rate.

  "Jeans. Maybe some sweaters or sweatshirts. A mid-weight jacket—"

  "The weather's turning warmer—"

  He ignored her and continued with his list. "A pair of athletic shoes. A pair of sturdy boots, not anything heavy, though. And nothing butt-ugly."

  TR's brows shot up. "Do I want to know?"

  "Probably not."

  "Okay, got it. Anything else?"

  "I don't know. Personal shit, I guess."

  "Like socks and bra and underwear?"

  "Yeah, like that."

  "Any particular color or style?"

  There was a trap in there somewhere but damn if he could see it. "How the hell should I know? Just get whatever."

  "Just asking if you had any preferences or special tastes."

  "They're not—" He stopped as he finally understood what she was getting at. "Dammit, TR, it's not like that."

  "Oh. So you're not sleeping with her. Okay, got it. Don't believe it but—"

  "I just met her."

  "Yeah? And?"

  Derrick opened his mouth to tell her there was nothing going on between them. Quickly snapped it shut again. It was safer to keep his fucking mouth closed; if he lied to TR, she'd pick up on it right away and then he'd never hear the end of it.

  "Uh-huh. Thought so."

  "You thought so, what, exactly?"

  "Well, it was pretty obvious to me what was going on, with the way you were carrying her—"

  "She isn't wearing shoes—"

  "—and the way she was clinging to you."

  "She wasn't clinging—"

  "Sure she was."

  Derrick sucked in a sharp breath, counted to ten and slowly released it. "She was not clinging to me. She was probably scar
ed."

  TR snorted, the indelicate sound communicating her thoughts more than words ever could. Derrick leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her. "She wasn't clinging, she was scared. Probably because of your husband. His damn ugly face would scare anyone with half a brain."

  Instead of taking the bait as she usually did, TR just pushed him away and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. She was clinging. You slept with her. And you're being awfully protective of someone you just met."

  "That doesn't mean a damn thing."

  "Mmhmm. If you say so." TR moved past him then stopped when she reached the door. And damn if that calculating, thoughtful expression on her face didn't make his balls shrivel with fear.

  "Say what you want, Derrick, but I have a feeling about this."

  "That's probably just hormones. Or heartburn."

  "No, I don't think so. I have a feeling she could be the one for you."

  He shouldn't have asked. Should have kept his fucking mouth shut. But he didn't. "The one, what?"

  "Your missing half. Your soulmate."

  "Dammit, TR, we've talked about this before. There's no such thing as soulmates."

  "Mmhmm. You keep telling yourself that."

  TR had once again managed to get the last word in. He stared at the closed door for a long minute then reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Closed his eyes. Wondered if banging his head against the wall might help.

  Soulmates.

  Jesus.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lidiya rolled her neck from side-to-side then stretched her arms above her head. She was accustomed to sitting most of the day at her own apartment so sitting here, in the conference room where Chaos had dumped her, shouldn't bother her. But it did. She couldn't get comfortable, no matter how many times she shifted positions in the chair. They weren't cheap chairs, either. They were well-padded, ergonomic, upholstered in what looked like leather. She doubted it was the real thing but it was still high quality, unlike her worn-out office chair back at her apartment.

  It wasn't so much her surroundings that made her uncomfortable—although the memory of all those eyes watching as Derrick carried her through the lobby certainly didn't help.

  It was why she was here.

  The realization that she couldn't go back to her apartment. The realization that she had nowhere else to go.

  It had been easy enough to put that out of her mind yesterday and last night—especially last night. But she couldn't ignore it forever. And somehow, focusing on that was suddenly infinitely better than focusing on anything else.

  Like what happened last night.

  She shoved that memory as far back in her mind as she could. She wasn't ready to deal with it yet, even if the slight stiffness of her muscles and the tenderness between her thighs was a constant reminder. Better to think about everything else, like her current situation.

  As dangerous and depressing as it was.

  Lee crossed her arms on top of the polished table then used them as a pillow for her head. She closed her eyes, breathed in the subtle scent of lemon, and wondered if it would be better not to think at all.

  Yes, she had decisions to make and they had to be made soon. But surely not right this second, surely she could wait, just until her mind had a few minutes to empty or at least until she had a chance to get her thoughts in order.

  She needed to tell Derrick what was going on. Everything, even her secrets. She hadn't planned on it, had thought he might be able to help her without knowing every little detail, but she now knew that was impossible. Last night had driven that point home. It wasn't fair not to tell him, not after what they'd done.

  No matter how hard she tried to get around it—and she'd been focused on that all morning, to the exclusion of everything else—she had to tell him.

  And if he looked at her any differently once he found out, if he held the sins of her grandfather and uncle against her, then so be it. That only meant he wasn't the man she thought he was.

  But God, she was dreading telling him. Dreading even the slightest chance that his mesmerizing blue eyes would fill with cold disgust. If there was some way she could keep that part hidden, she would...but there wasn't. There was simply no way to tell him who was targeting her without telling him why, or even vice versa. The who and the why were too closely intertwined to be separated, no matter how much she might hope otherwise.

  And they—her parents—had known that the secrets would come out, that it was just a matter of time. First her grandfather's and then, later, her uncle's. Her parents had tried to put it off as long as possible, not for themselves but for her, worried that it might follow her throughout her entire life.

  And it had, but in ways they hadn't anticipated. Now her parents were dead and she would probably be joining them soon and why? Because her uncle was following in her grandfather's footsteps. Because he believed in keeping the family legacy alive.

  Because he believed their secrets would never see the light of day.

  Lidiya gently traced the silicone bracelet wrapped around her wrist. Secrets. So many secrets. So much bloodshed. Would it stop? If she put her failsafe plan into motion, would it stop anything at all? Maybe.

  But she couldn't do it. Not yet. Yes, her reasons were mostly selfish, she knew that. It didn't change her mind though. And if something happened to her before she could put the failsafe in motion? Well, her uncle would be in for a big surprise because he'd quickly learn that killing her wouldn't stop the secrets from being exposed.

  Maybe that was the best thing that could happen. She wouldn't have to keep looking over her shoulder because it would be over. Even if Derrick could help her this time, what about the next time? Because there would be a next time. And a next and a next and a next. Her uncle would never stop, not until he succeeded. Not until he got what he wanted. This was a game to him. A sick, twisted game. She was simply prolonging the inevitable.

  And it wasn't as if she'd been living the last two years. Not even before then, not really. What was the point in running and hiding to stay alive if she didn't have a life to live?

  She hadn't started living until last night—when she'd come alive in Derrick's arms.

  And she felt guilty about that. About using him that way—because she had used him. No, he wouldn't see it that way, but she knew the truth. And when he discovered who she really was, what then?

  He'd judge her based on the blood running through her veins...

  And he'd hate her.

  She had learned enough about him over the past eighteen months to know that he was a man of loyalty. Integrity. Honor. Maybe he wouldn't judge her as harshly as others might but he would still look at her with hatred and contempt. How could he not?

  But even for all that, she didn't regret last night. She'd carry the memory of his soft words and tender touches for however long she had left. And deep down, in the forgotten corner of her heart where dreams still existed, she would hope that someday, he'd look back on last night with something less than contempt.

  Lidiya sighed again, the sound filled with longing. With exhaustion. With regret and despair. This wasn't like her, all these whirling emotions that kept pulling her in so many different directions. She was tired, that was all. So tired. She needed to act, to take the first step toward the beginning of the end. But she couldn't. Not yet...

  She jerked awake a short time later, some sound alerting her to now. She lifted her head, brushed the hair from her face and blinked at the three people standing just a few feet away. That first instinct to run and hide quickly faded—these people weren't here to hurt her. At least, she hoped not.

  Her gaze slid to Derrick's and she released the breath she'd been holding. No, they weren't here to hurt her—but with the exception of Derrick, she didn't trust them. She couldn't.

  Derrick pointed to the woman who held several shopping bags in her hands. "Lee, this is TR. She brought some clothes for you. And this—" He motioned to the man standing beside him, a dark green pou
ch cradled in his large hand, "—is Wolf. He's going to look at your leg."

  Lidiya blinked, trying to make sense of the words. Clothes? Her leg? She didn't understand. Why did she need clothes? And what about her leg? It was a little achy but not as bad as it had been that first night. And how would Derrick even know—

  His gaze caught hers, steady and direct. "It was still bothering you last night."

  Heat filled her face and she quickly looked away. Had the others noticed? Yes, they must have. Why else would the woman's mouth curl into a small smile? It didn't matter, let them think of her what they wanted. "My leg is fine—"

  "No arguments. Let Wolf look at it." There was something different about his voice. Soft and dangerous, full of authority. Her gaze shot back to his and her stomach did a slow roll. This was the warrior she had glimpsed beneath the surface. The warrior she had vaguely sensed beneath all their online interactions. Quiet. Determined. Ruthless.

  And dangerous. So dangerous.

  Lidiya swallowed, let her eyes drift to the man Derrick kept calling Wolf. The name must be a joke, like calling someone who was big "Tiny", because there was nothing wolfish about him. Shaggy blonde hair with a hint of wave, laughing green eyes, a wide smile and irresistible dimples. He looked like one of those extreme athletes she occasionally saw online. A skateboarder, maybe, or even a surfer, with those sun-kissed curls and healthy complexion that said he spent a lot of time outdoors.

  "It's better to do as he says, Ariel. Trust me. A happy Chaos is a pleasant Chaos."

  Lidiya blinked. Glanced over her shoulder to see if someone was behind her. No, she was the only other person in the room besides the trio in front of her. She turned back, frowned when she realized the man named Wolf was talking to her.

  "My name is Lidiya—"

  "Pretty enough, but I like Ariel better."

  The woman sat the bags on the sprawling table then lowered herself to one of the chairs. "Sebastian, you need to get your eyes checked. Ariel has red hair."