The Auction Block

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The Auction Block Page 24

by Courtney Lynn Rose


  "So, it's cool for you to spend the last four months trying to get me to talk about shit, but the first time I pry, you want to clam up. I don't fucking think so, Mason, spill it."

  He closes his eyes, chest slowly rising and falling as he opens them again. He pushes off the door and walks toward me, leaning down and kissing me, hard, pulling my body against his. Just as my body starts to get lost in his, he pulls away, taking my hand and dragging me to the bed.

  He plops down, pulling me into his lap, and falling back on the bed so I'm curled up on his chest. I roll, straddling him, and he runs his hands up and down my sides.

  "I'll make you a deal, I'll tell you something about my past, and you tell me something about yours," he says staring into my eyes with determination.

  "Is this your way of trying to avoid talking about yourself," I ask, raising my eyebrows.

  "No, it's my way of us getting to know each other better. Four months, and we hardly know anything."

  I can't argue that fact. Blake knows more about me than anyone else, but it still isn't much.

  "Okay."

  "My dad met my biological mother while he was vacationing in Hawaii. They ended up having a fling and I was the result," he says impassively.

  I sigh, trying to recall the things about my childhood Jax told me. "My father sold me to the Taurus to pay a debt he owed."

  "I thought you didn't remember your childhood?"

  "I don't. I only know what Jax told me. I've never looked into it myself."

  "How come?"

  I think carefully before answering, wanting to be honest with him. He reaches up and trails his fingertips across my collarbones, lingering on the brand.

  "I don't want to remember. What good will ever come of that?"

  He holds his breath for a moment. "My mother moved to Baltimore with my dad, but he refused to marry her. By the time I was six months old, she wanted to go back to Hawaii, but my dad made her promises about how he loved her and that he'd marry her when the time was right, so she stayed."

  "Did your mom tell you all this when you were a kid?"

  "Some. Some of it my father told me when I got to my teenage years."

  I lean down and press my lips to his. His body is tenser than the string of a drawn longbow, his face etched in pain. He moans and my tongue finds his as he rolls, pinning my body under his. He pulls back staring me in the face.

  "Anyway, to make this short because I don't feel like spending the night upset," he says quickly, "My Dad eventually married my mother, but he treated her like shit. She worked three jobs because even with all the money he had, he'd never help her with anything. When I was five, he left her for Carmen, and treated her like gold. Bought her everything— did everything for her he never did for my mother. When I was twelve, my mom killed herself and I had to go live with my father, his new wife, and my baby stepsister. So that's it."

  I pull his lips back to mine and kiss him until the tension leaves his body. He stares down at me again, and my stomach tightens.

  My turn.

  "Lily Williams isn't my real name," I whisper looking at his chest.

  He takes a sharp breath, and I wait for the outburst to follow. He's the only person I've ever admitted this too.

  "What?" he says, his voice gentle and soothing.

  I meet his gaze again. "By the time I was nine, I'd blocked out everything about my past. The owner I had asked my name and I couldn't remember. He thought I was being defiant, refusing to tell him. He tied me up and beat me, saying he wouldn't stop until I answered. After almost two hours, I screamed the name Lily. It's been my name ever since," I said, voice strangled, a single tear rolling down my face.

  He kisses the tear from my cheek, moving his lips down to my neck as more moisture flows from my eyes. He moves across my collarbones to my shoulder and up the opposite side of my neck. Gently, he nips my earlobe.

  "Your real name doesn't matter to me. All that matters is that you're mine," he whispers in my ear, causing more tears to fall.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze my body to his. This is why I love him, why I need him. He wants to know about my past but nothing sways him, or makes him think of me differently. He continues to kiss my neck until my tears stop and I ease my vice like grip.

  His eyes shine with need as he stares down at me. "Is Lily the name you want to go by?"

  "Yes."

  "Then Lily, my Lily, I love you. Nothing about your past, your life, or your thoughts, is going to make me love you any less," he says in a husky, yet stern voice.

  I smirk, running my fingers over his lips.

  "I love you, Blake Mason, and for what it's worth, you're nothing like your father."

  His eyes widen, shock littering his face. This is what he's worried about— it's a revelation. Those first few days with him and all the things he's done since then . . . His father is the reason he got mad about me paying for breakfast and why he wants nothing more than to take care of me. In Blake's mind, that is what men do for the women they love, and despite all my fuckedupness, he loves me.

  "I'd like to make love to you now," he whispers, leaning down, gently running his nose along my jaw. His hands slide down my body and he hitches my left leg up, grinding his growing erection into me. I moan, and am lost.

  34

  ~Lily~

  I tap my thumb nervously against the granite counter of the kitchen island waiting for Miranda to arrive. I don't trust myself not to be a complete bitch toward this woman. Since coming back to the apartment, I've been fuming about tonight. I keep reminding myself she's Blake's friend, this was my idea, and I'm not allowed to be a total cunt.

  The return to the apartment went smoothly at least, and the team is more than satisfied with the additional agents and new security measures. We know the Taurus is watching, and more attempts will happen now that Blake is back in the public eye. I'm praying we can anticipate them, and handle the situations before they get out of hand again.

  My head jerks up as the foyer doors open. Jameson stands to the side allowing Miranda to enter the room. She sashays in with a halo of blond hair and deep green eyes. Her dress barely covers her ass, a shimmery silver fabric, and she walks toward me with more confidence than most men do.

  I'm going to stab this slut.

  My blood boils as she moves in my direction, giving me a gleaming megawatt smile.

  "Hi, Lily," she says, sneering.

  "Evening, Miranda," I say shortly.

  "I bet this entire evening just burns your ass, doesn't it?"

  I grit my teeth together. "For Blake's sake, I'm holding my tongue. Don't push your luck."

  Footsteps echo down the hall. Blake enters the room looking delicious in a black tux. My insides burn and my throat tightens. I'm going to have to watch this stupid bitch put moves on him all night, and there isn't a fucking thing I can say because this was my idea and it will blow my cover.

  He stops next to me, his eyes scanning my face. "Good evening, Agent Williams." His voice is amused and seductive. I tangle my fingers together to keep from reaching out to touch him.

  "Good Evening, Mr. Mason. Are you and your date ready to go?"

  "Yes," he says, sadness pooling in his eyes.

  Miranda's face darkens as she watches us, using her index finger to wipe the corner of her mouth.

  I lift my silver watch to my mouth. "Time to move," I say walking to the other side of the entrance. I breathe deep, willing myself to relax. At this rate, it’s going to be a long night.

  The team joins us in the foyer, assembling a blockade around Blake and Miranda, who are chatting. About what, I don't know. I refuse to listen in on the conversation knowing it’ll only make my night worse.

  Dresden, Vlad, and I accompany Blake and Miranda to the ground floor and wait until the rest of the team joins us. Outside we stop by the middle car and I open the back passenger-side door. Miranda climbs in, but Blake stops, his hand on the doorframe as he gazes down at me.
r />   "Are you riding in the front?" he says, struggling to keep the longing from his voice.

  I avert my gaze, staring at the sidewalk. "No, sir. I'll be riding in the first car. Dresden and Jameson will be with you. I'll be driving with Vlad and Rhett."

  He stares at me, his eyes questioning. "Okay," he whispers, sliding into the car.

  I slam the door and jog to the driver's side of the first vehicle. I start the engine and pull a cigarette from my pack, lighting it as I roll down the window. Vlad slides in next to me, his eyes cautious.

  "You okay?" he says.

  "Not really."

  "This was your idea."

  "Doesn't mean I like it," I snap, whipping my head around to face him.

  "I know. Just try not to lose your shit tonight."

  "I'll do my best, as always."

  He smiles as I bring my watch up to my mouth. "We ready to move?"

  Dresden and Sammi give the all clear and we pull into traffic.

  †††

  The event isn't as crowded as expected considering it's a children's fundraiser, but it's enough to put me on edge. We're three hours in and that bitch feeds Blake cocktails like gas through a rice burner. He's drank three glasses of wine, two mixed drinks, and god knows how many beers. I stopped counting after his fourth.

  I'm not sure who I want to hit more, him or her, but it's a good thing Dresden's doing the close contact monitoring. I'm stationed a few feet from the table, against the wall. Dresden is less than a foot away from Blake, his eyes constantly watching him, his date, and surrounding tables.

  "We thank you all for your generosity, and we'd now like to open the dance floor for the next few hours to allow you all time to enjoy yourselves. Again, thank you and have a wonderful night," the Master of Ceremonies says over the microphone.

  As he walks off the stage, there’s a chorus of scraping chairs and voices. The band plays an up-beat Top 40 number and many patrons move to the dance floor. I scan the room, looking for anyone suspicious, but sense nothing out of order. I glance back at Blake in time to see Miranda pulling him from his seat, his hand in hers.

  The blood drains out of my face. If I trusted anyone else, I'd sit out of these events all together. I'd be a hypocrite for showing my anger. Dresden moves to the edge of the dance floor, keeping close to Blake and Miranda.

  "Viper," Dresden whispers through my earpiece.

  "Yeah?"

  "She's trying to talk him into finding an empty room."

  I take a deep breath, blowing it out, making my cheeks puff. "Well, that’ll be his choice. Can't stop him, but you'll have to stay posted outside the door."

  "Are you fucking kidding?"

  "Nope."

  "So you expect me to just stand outside while he cheats on you?"

  "If that’s what he chooses to do, yes."

  "Lily, he's drunk for Christ sake, and she's a gold digging whore," Dresden snaps in my ear.

  "Not my fucking problem," I hiss. "Maybe he should’ve stopped drinking five beers ago."

  I try to look anywhere but at Blake through the next three songs. Miranda is really putting the moves on him, and from what I can tell, he's enjoying it, which means I'm about one more song away from going out there and kicking her in the face. I stare at the entrance, scanning the neck of each person walking in, eager to see a glimpse of a blue tattoo.

  "Lily, we got two Taurus on the floor, moving toward Mason. One of them is Khoui," Dresden says in my ear.

  I whip my head in that direction, locking eyes on Khoui. His eyes are on Blake, and I push through a crowd of people. Blake and Miranda stop dancing and turn toward them. Dresden steps up beside Miranda, his hands loose at his side.

  "Hello, Mr. Mason, nice to see you again," Khoui says.

  Before Blake can answer, I step in front of him, blocking Khoui's direct line to Blake's body.

  "Good evening, Jahari. You should walk away now," I say sweetly as Vlad steps up to my other side. Together the three of us make a wall between the Taurus members and Blake.

  "Just the woman I want to see. I expected to find you in Mr. Mason's arms, Agent, but I see he's moved on." Khoui gives me a condescending sneer.

  I unbutton my jacket; letting him see my guns and long black whip hooked inside my jacket. "Walk away."

  "Ah, I guess you've finally figured out who I am?"

  "Yes, I have. Moreover, I guess by now, your organization has told you what I'm capable of. Last chance to walk away," I hiss taking a step forward. "Take Mr. Mason and his date away from the area, please, Agent Scholl."

  "Lily," Blake slurs from behind me, his hand lightly touching my back.

  "Mr. Mason," I say through gritted teeth. "Go, now."

  "Come on, Mr. Mason," Vlad says.

  I glance over Khoui's shoulder as Blake and Miranda make their way from the room. Khoui turns his head to watch them, and Miranda glances at him. My stomach knots, my intuition telling me something isn't right. I swear, Khoui's head nods, just a fraction.

  Turning back, he pierces me with a steely gaze. "You know you're only prolonging the inevitable."

  "The only thing I know is that before this is all over, I'm going to kill you," I say in an even tone.

  "I look forward to the day you try. You have no idea how deep you're in, Agent. Once you know the truth, you may feel differently."

  "Lily, it’s Boa," Sammi says in my earpiece. "We got a problem. I've been monitoring Miranda and Caleb's accounts and phones. She had a wire transfer to her account this afternoon from an Anderson Kettleburn. That's a known alias of Jahari's."

  I freeze, my blood turning cold. Dresden and I glance at each other. Quickly, I move around Khoui, scanning the room for Blake. He and Vlad are gone. Dresden’s still having a standoff with Khoui and it hits me . . . he knew I'd remove Blake from the situation.

  "Khoui's a diversion. Where the fuck is Blake?"

  "Second floor, private room with the she-beast," Vlad says with his voice full of venom.

  I run, taking the stairs two at a time. To the right, Vlad stands outside a private room. Blake's voice resounds through the closed door.

  "Miranda, I thought I made this clear to you. I'm with her."

  "Oh, come on, Blake. She's so below your standards."

  "The only woman below my standards is you. All the years we've been friends and I finally see you for what you are," he hisses.

  I smile to myself. I should barge in, but he's safe as long as their talking and this is too good to miss.

  "She's nothing but a crazy, murderous bitch," Miranda yells.

  "And you're nothing but an uppity, gold-digging whore. I'll take a murderer over that any day."

  "You don't mean that and you know it. We've had some real fun together," she says trying to lay on the seduction.

  My smile disappears.

  "Miranda, stop. I'm drunk, not stupid," he says irritated.

  Without a word, I turn toward the door and slam my boot into the area directly next to the handle. The wood cracks and it flies open.

  Barging into the room, Vlad on my heels, everything is in slow motion. Miranda has her back against the wall to my right, trying to pull Blake against her as he pushes her shoulder in an attempt to move back. Behind Blake is a man, dressed all in black, pointing a 9mm at his head.

  I pull the whip from my side, lashing it out, encircling the hitman's wrist. His head snaps up, meeting my gaze as I pull hard, jerking his arm to the right. He fires a bullet, hitting the wall less than a foot from Blake and Miranda, who both jump and spin to face us.

  The room falls into a deadly silence. The hitman pulls his hand, trying to aim the gun at me. I yank again causing him to lose his grip on the weapon. It hits the floor and Vlad moves to scoop it up, taking out the clip and emptying the chamber before throwing it across the room.

  I flick my wrist, pulling the whip from his arm. He reaches inside his jacket and I lash out with the tail again, wrapping it around his neck. His hands fly to the
black coil as he gasps for air. I run forward, tugging on the handle. He stumbles toward me and as he falls, I bring my boot across his face, knocking him to the ground.

  Vlad jumps over the body, sliding and stopping in front of Blake and Miranda. I glance over, my gaze locking on Blake. He closes his eyes and furiously shakes his head. He opens them and some of his intelligence seems to seep back in. He glances from me to Miranda, his face falling.

  I flick my wrist, releasing the whip and rewinding it, hooking it inside my jacket.

  "We need back up, second floor, right side, last door on the left. Viper's about to lose it," Vlad says into his watch communicator.

  I strut to the hitman as he staggers to his feet. My head is fuzzy with anger, my heart pounding in my ears. Back up will be here any second. I land a right hook into the asshole's face, followed by a left hit to his temple. He stumbles backward as I continue, unrelenting.

  Vlad calls my name, but I ignore him. My boot slams into the guy's left knee, and it gives under the hit. He falls onto it, howling in pain. I grab his hair and bring his face down into my knee, twice. He slumps to the floor groaning, holding his bloody nose.

  I take two steps and vice like arms wrap around me. I struggle against them, my anger intensifying.

  "Get the fuck off me," I hiss low.

  "Lily, calm down," Rhett whispers in my ear.

  "Don't make me hurt you, too."

  "You're not a murderer, Viper. Arrest him."

  "No."

  "Please, Lil. Don't lose it like this."

  I grit my teeth. "Do you care about me?"

  "Yes." His arms tighten.

  "Then get the fuck off me."

  He sighs, squeezing me for another moment.

  The arms disappear, and I stalk forward. From inside my jacket, I pull one of the guns from the holster and a silencer from my pocket. The rest of the team joins us as the two pieces twist together, my body moving to tower over the hitman.

  "Lily, don't," Sammi says from behind me.

  I glare down into the wide eyes of the scum who was about to shoot the man I love. I don't care how angry I am with Blake— I'd die for him.

 

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