"Good luck with that. I'm a better shot than you," I quip, smirking at him.
His frown breaks into an involuntary grin. "Fuck you. You may be faster, but I'm stronger."
"Yes, ergo the name Python. But you have to catch me first. I could use a new snake skin purse." I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
His laughter fills the room. "Is that a challenge?"
"Anytime, anyplace. You may want to let your arm heal though; I wouldn't want to upset your girlfriend by doing permanent damage."
"Don't write a check your ass can't cash," he says, grinning.
"Her ass can cash some pretty big checks though," Blake says, amused.
I gape at him. "Shut the fuck up!"
The others burst into a fit of laughter loud enough to wake the dead.
Shitheads!
"Monroe, we should discuss the parameters of this idea. We need the rest of the team. Can't plan protection details without Vlad," I say.
"Shannon, that's our cue to go back to bed," Blake says, taking my hand in his.
I look at him, confused. "You can stay."
"No, baby. I'm not going to keep interfering with your job," he says, leaning down to brush his lips across mine.
My body ignites at the touch. I stare after him until he closes the bedroom door.
How can I keep him alive if I can't even think when he's near me?
†††
"So, we need the security cameras reset. The Masons can't know where they are this time," I say, scanning the blueprint spread across the dining room table.
Blake and his family are on the third floor enjoying a few hours of pampering, courtesy of Interpol, giving us time to work out our new protection plan. We've pulled out the initial files Monroe gave us the day we met Blake, along with the new information Sammi found while holed up in her office all that time.
"Mason's got a shit storm of social engagements coming up for his company. That's going to be problematic. Maybe we should ask him to cancel," Jameson says looking over the schedule Sammi printed.
"No, he's in the public eye. His absence from several events is already a hot topic in the press. We can't display him as a coward," Dresden says, his brows furrowed.
"What about sending Lily in as his date again?" Sammi asks.
"No," I snap. Their eyes turn on me, wide and full of surprise. "I can't protect him like that. That charity ball is what started all this."
"Okay, then we do things by the book. Lily heads security, Vlad and I with her. Sammi and Hayato watching the cameras, Jameson in the getaway car, Rhett with us as backup," Dresden fires off.
"Lily, how do you intend to handle your relationship with Mason as far as the media is concerned?" Vlad says, meeting my gaze.
I've thought about this a lot over the last few hours. My choice wasn't easy, and my stomach knots painfully thinking about it.
"As far as the public is concerned, Blake Mason is still the most eligible bachelor in Baltimore." I look down, taking a deep breath.
"What?" Dresden says.
"In my regular clothes, no one will recognize me as his date from the charity ball. I'm sure he can find other dates to these events, he can take that bitch Miranda, and that way, no one makes the connection between him and me. The Taurus already knows. It won't help to have the damn tabloids following us around too. Interpol Agent falls for Wealthy Business Man . . . yeah . . . I can do without those headlines."
"What headlines?" Blake says, our heads snapping up toward the door as he and his family join us.
"Nothing. We'll talk about it later," I say giving him a weak smile.
"Lily, you need to tell him," Vlad says quietly.
"Tell me what? What’s going on now, Lily?" Blake stops next to me, his eyes stern.
"Vlad, shut it. Blake, bedroom, now," I snap, pushing off the table and stalking to our room.
Once Blake enters, I slam the door. This is why we need the public distance. When we're wrapped in each other, we argue over his safety, and I need to have my head on straight at these functions.
"Lily, what's going on?"
"We're going back to the apartment tomorrow. We've been going over your schedule of public events for the next few weeks."
"Okay. Oh, that reminds me, you need something to wear to each of those."
"I'll be wearing my suit, Blake."
He raises an eyebrow. "My girlfriend is not attending a formal function with me in a suit."
"I won't be going as your girlfriend. I'll be going as the head of your security. We aren't going public with our relationship," I say staring impassively into his eyes.
"What?" he says his voice escalating. "What the hell do you mean we’re not going public with our relationship?"
"Do not raise your voice at me," I hiss. I should’ve figured this would be an all-out war with him.
"Screw that. You're my girlfriend and I'm not going to run around pretending like you aren't," he yells taking a step toward me.
"Blake, please don't fight me on this. I'm trying to keep you alive and I can't do that in your arms."
"Why can't you?"
"Because I can't concentrate like that! Every time you touch me, you're all I can think about. I need to be able to focus, which I can't do when the only thing I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears."
"I don't give a damn. I understand your job, but I'm not weak, Lily. Regardless of what you or Interpol thinks."
"I never said you were. This isn't some street gang you're up against. Have you learned nothing after the other night?"
"What the hell does that have to do with you wanting me to basically whore myself out to the media?"
I sigh, running my hands through my hair. "I'm not asking you to whore yourself out, will you calm the hell down?"
He takes a step forward, his jaw tight and eyes shining with malice. "No, I won't calm the hell down. I want you by my side, and I'm not agreeing to this ludicrous bullshit."
"Blake . . . either you do this, or Hyde is going to pull the plug on this whole thing and that would fuck us even more."
"My answer is no."
"God-damn it, why do you have to be so fucking difficult. Can't you just do what you're told?"
I jump back as Blake turns, punching the wall next to the bathroom door, busting a hole in the drywall.
"Blake," I scream as he pulls his fist out.
"I can't do this, Lily. Don't push me."
"Please . . . baby, I need you to understand."
His eyes are on fire and for the first time since meeting him, I'm worried about his temper. He's been very compliant with everything I've demanded and his fight against this is unnerving.
"Don't do that. You start with that begging shit and I swear to god," he hisses, glaring at me. The muscles in his arms flex as he clenches and unclenches his hands.
I'm almost afraid to move . . .
Fuck it.
I dash across the room and throw my arms around his neck, crushing my lips to his. He melts into me, wrapping his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air. I encircle his hips with my legs, and kiss him hard and unrelenting.
Finally, I pull away and hold his head in my hands. "Please trust me. I know what I'm doing."
He sighs and sets me on my feet. "I'll go to the events alone, then. If that will make this work," he says resigned.
"I think you should have a date. It’ll look more natural, Blake. You have a shit-ton of friends. Take Miranda. You know her, and she's passed the background checks," I say, venom seeping, unwanted into my voice.
"Are you trying to piss me off again?"
"No . . ."
"So, not only do you want me to pretend like we aren't together, which makes me feel like a lying bastard, but now you want me to take another date, which will really make me feel like a lying bastard."
"Blake."
The anger flares in his eyes again. "I'm not doing that."
"Blake, please," I whine, pressing my lips to his, gently
.
"You really going to be okay with me taking another woman, Miranda especially, to these events?"
"No. I'll be pissed the entire time. But, logically, it's needed to complete the act you have to put on for the public right now."
He leans down and presses his lips to my cheek. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I want you to survive. I want to be with you. I want all the things I never thought possible," I whisper running my hand up his chest.
"What are you saying?" His eyes bore into mine, hot and intense; his body flush against mine so firmly the flex of his muscles turns me on all over again.
My stomach clenches with desire, spreading throughout my body. "I'm saying that when this is over, I'd like a life with you. A normal life."
His eyes widen and his lips part slightly.
"Say something . . ."
"I love you, Lily, and you're the only future I want."
†††
"Sorina, you should be in bed," I say into my phone, pacing the window in Hyde's office.
"I know, but I have trouble sleeping."
"I have the same problem."
She sniffles. "Am I ever going to be normal again, Lily?"
"Of course you will. Healing takes time, Sorina. I know you wish it would all just go away, but you have to learn to deal. You have to be patient."
I'm not sure how Sorina got my cell phone number, but she called while Dresden and I rode the elevator to Monroe's office. I recognized the halfway house number, expecting it to be one of the nurses or something.
"I'll try. I've been seeing the psychiatrist once a week."
"Good. Keep seeing him. Keep talking about it. I'll try to come see you soon. Sorry I haven't made it back yet."
"It's okay. The nurses told us about what happen at Mr. Mason's."
I huff. 'Those women need to learn to shut up."
"Is it true you killed like 30 guys all by yourself?"
"It was seventeen guys, Vlad and Rhett helped." I chuckle.
"Still badass."
"Watch your mouth."
"Sorry. I'm going to go to bed now. Thanks for talking to me, Lily."
"Anytime, kiddo. See you soon."
I slip the phone back into its case, glancing at Dresden.
My stomach is two steps away from heaving up its contents. Dresden doesn't look much calmer. It's 5:00 AM and Monroe woke us for an impromptu meeting saying it was urgent. Nothing warranting this early of a wakeup call can be good. At least Sorina made me feel good. It makes me happy knowing she calls me when she needs someone.
Dresden taps his thumb on the table in a nervous rhythm as I pace the length of the room. A thousand, terrifying thoughts run through my mind, each worse than the last.
The door opens silently as Hyde steps inside the room. "Lily, Dresden, thanks for joining me."
"No problem, sir," I say in a shaky voice.
"You okay, Lily?" he asks, taking a seat at the head of the table.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Come sit down, let's talk." He motions to the chair in front of Dresden.
I sit down, crossing my ankle over my knee, taping my fingers on my shin. Hyde opens a dark blue folder, ruffling through several pages. He slides a small stack of papers to us. Together, we sit forward and read the print underneath a colored picture of a man I've seen before.
Name: Jahari Khoui
Age: 42
Nationality: Syrian
Known Status: Hitman and Procurer for The Taurus
Implicated in the murders of at least twelve federal agents and thirteen Interpol agents. Known connection to the kidnappings of at least one hundred and twenty two thousand women and children in the United States, Romania, Germany, Sweden, Scotland, Ireland, Egypt, South Africa, and Brazil.
"You remember him?" Hyde says leaning back in his chair.
"Yes, sir. He's the hitman who spoke to Mason at the charity ball we attended," I say, studying the picture.
This photograph isn't a recent one. Khoui must’ve been thirty-five, maybe, in this picture. His face has more lines now, a more severe hardness to it as well.
"He was spotted by Interpol agents scoping out Mason's apartment last night."
"What?" Dresden snaps, jerking his head up.
"Don't get hyper. You're being given extra security and anything else you ask for," Hyde says acutely.
"This is insane," he murmurs.
"Well, we have limited options here, Agent Scholl, so unless you'd like to go for one of the more extreme ventures, this is how we have to do it," Hyde barks.
"What other options?" Dresden sits up, leaning onto the table.
"Protective custody. Give you two time to hunt down these jack wagons."
"You mean send them away?" I whisper glancing up at him.
"If we can't settle this situation, soon . . . it may be our only option. Another fuck up like the other night, and my boss won't give me any other choice."
"Why wouldn't Lily and I go with them?"
"You and she know traffickers better than anyone else. I'm positive, if given free reign, you could hunt them down and do away with them," Hyde says standing and turning his back to us.
"Do away with them? You mean straight assassination?"
Hyde turns around, his gaze empty and without emotion. "Yes. I think we've all had enough of these fuckers."
Could I leave Blake for that long?
33
~Lily~
It's early evening by the time Dresden and I leave Hyde's office. Tomorrow morning we'll go back to the apartment. Thankfully, Dresden's wound isn't as bad as we thought, and he's pushing through, using his arm without restriction already. Blake's next charity event is Thursday night, and I'm not looking forward to it in the least.
"I'm going to go be with my woman until we have to head back tomorrow," Dresden says, reaching up to squeeze my shoulder.
"Night, man," I mutter, walking to the kitchen.
I pour a glass of tequila and sit at the dining room table. A million things could go wrong when we leave here and each one is a thorn in my side. Once this event is over, Blake has some time open. It'll be a good opportunity to spend time with Sorina. The last thing I need is to get attached to someone else, but on some deep, unexplainable wavelength, it's already happened with her.
"Evening, Lily," a soft voice says startling me.
I look up into the solemn face of Carmen Mason. She has a glass of wine in her hand, bags under her eyes.
"May I join you?"
"Sure," say quietly, gesturing to the chair next to me.
"Thank you." She sits down, turning slightly to face me. "I don't think I actually said that to you for saving Shannon. Of course, I should thank you for saving Blake as well. They'd both be dead by now if it weren't for you."
"You don't have to thank me, Mrs. Mason. It's my job and my pleasure," I say awkwardly, sipping my drink.
"I keep hoping all this will bring Blake, his father, and I closer, but it hasn't." Her eyes fill with sadness.
I'm not sure what to say. The strain between Blake and his parents hasn't gone unnoticed, but I assumed it was because of the current situation. They seem like the perfect family regardless of the fact Carmen is his stepmother. There wasn't any information about Blake's biological mother in his files, and I haven't thought to ask.
"I wasn't aware there were any issues between the three of you," I say in an even tone.
She chuckles darkly. "My stepson all but hates me, and I'm almost certain he despises his father."
My eyes widen in shock. "I doubt that Mrs. Mason. Blake seems to care for all of you very much."
"Shannon, yes. He's never blamed her for his younger years, or the way his mother went. He blames me greatly," she says with pain in her eyes.
"Enough, Carmen. I doubt Lily wants to be bothered with our family issues," James snaps from a few feet away.
His eyes harden like ice, contempt and anger etched in the tightening of
his features.
"On the contrary, Dr. Mason, I think your family's issues have very much become mine as well," I say with more irritation than intended.
"Blake's childhood wasn't great. I think that's all that needs to be known. Regardless of your involvement with my son, our family's past is none of your business."
"I think I'll be the judge of that," Blake says, venom soaking each word. My head snaps in his direction.
He glares at his father with an amount of hatred I've only ever seen within myself. My mouth drops open as he stalks forward, stopping inches from his father.
"Blake, our past is none of her business. It's no one's business," James hisses through gritted teeth.
His face reddens as he takes a deep breath, his fists clenching at his side. "She's my future, and I'll impart whatever information I deem necessary where my past is concerned."
"Thankfully, you and your girlfriend won't be worrying about us after tomorrow."
"Yes, that is something to be thankful for," Blake growls.
"I'm sorry, where will you be going after tomorrow?" I say, standing and moving to Blake's side, gently placing my hand in his.
He glances down at me, squeezing my fingers, his face and body visibly relaxing.
"Carmen and I will be going to our vacation house overseas with a small team of agents until the situation here with my son is dealt with."
"I see," I say in a low tone, my pulse quickening, cheeks heating in agitation.
It seems I've misjudged Blake's parents, assuming their high society status automatically meant they cared for him. Seeing their exchange tonight, I'm not so sure. My hand habitually tightens around Blake's.
"Let's go to bed, baby," I whisper, pulling him toward the bedroom.
I drag him away, the voices of his parents behind us in a heated argument. I let go of his hand once inside the room, and he slams the door closed with enough force to crack the wood at the top of the frame. I turn around and stare at him, wide-eyed, and somewhat frightened. I don't think being in confinement is good for him.
"Explain," I say forcefully.
He leans his back against the door. "I'd rather not."
The Auction Block Page 23