by Norris, Kris
But it seemed Six had taken the initiative, again, and there was no way to escape without discussing their situation.
Kam forced herself to relax—glance over at him. “Sure.”
Sure? That’s the best you could come up with?
Six sighed. “You don’t sound so sure, sweetheart.”
God, the way the endearment rolled off his tongue made the air heat. A light sweat break out along her skin. Or maybe that was just sitting next to the man who had set her on fire back in their hotel room. The one that wouldn’t be quenched until he’d kept his promise—made his next move.
Kam raked her fingers through her hair, hoping he didn’t notice the way they trembled. “It’s just be a long couple of days.”
“Which is what I wanted to talk about. I’m sure you’re still feeling the aftereffects of the drugs. The fight. We have a bit of time before our contact shows up—if he does. I was thinking maybe it would be better if Gibson and I handled this first meeting. In case things go south.” He glanced over at her. “Give you some time to rest. Feel human, again.”
Her mouth was fully gaping open, now. Just hanging there, slack-jawed. For all she knew, she had a line of drool dribbling down the side because of all the things she’d imagined Six wanting to talk about—the obvious subject glittering on her finger, casting sparkly dots across the dashboard—their upcoming meeting hadn’t made the list.
Six dropped on large, rough hand on her thigh. “Hey, you okay? Do you feel ill from the flight? Should I pull over?”
She gave herself a mental shake. “No, I…I’m fine. And I appreciate the offer, but I’m the one those men were after. I can’t let you and Gibson take all the risks.”
“One risk. We’d be taking one, Kam.”
“A huge one. What if this spook’s in on it? Or decides to turn you in for hacking the CIA’s database?” She shook her head. “The more backup you have, the better. I’m going.”
“I see married life hasn’t cured that stubborn streak of yours.” He winked at her. Actually freaking winked. As if being married, now, was nothing. Just another Saturday night for him.
Another sigh. “Breathe, sweetheart. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Didn’t realize I’d make you hyperventilate.”
“I’m not hyperventilating. But… You’re talking as if us being married doesn’t even faze you.”
His smile faltered as he shifted her a quick look. “I didn’t say that. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that is strangely okay with it—your safety aside. And I don’t think I’m alone in that. Unless I was reading that kiss all wrong.”
God. Now, he’d brought up the kiss. Was the interior of the Jeep getting hotter? Had Six siphoned off all the air because she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Not without begging him to kiss her, again.
“And that silence is a no if I’ve ever heard one.”
“I…” She groaned, letting her head fall back against the seat. “Maybe we could wait until we’re back at your loft before we continue this conversation?”
“Afraid I might attack you right here in the front seat of the Jeep?”
“More that you won’t, and I’ll melt into a puddle of need before we even reach the office.” She inhaled. “Oh god. Did I really just say that? Out loud?”
A chuckle. “Every word. Which answers my next question…” He glanced over at her and winked, again, the big jerk. “About our next time, and how you want it to end.”
His eyes. They were heat and sex and something deeper. An emotion that had her holding her breath. Wishing they could pull over—let down their guard long enough to see just how explosive they could be together. If the past two days had been one of those miraculous acts of fate Jericho had mentioned. The kind Kam would appreciate fifty years from now after spending a lifetime with the man at her side.
Six smiled. “Guess we’ll have time to find out, seeing as only Gibson will be hanging around tonight. Maybe… Fuck, get down.”
His hand shot out—landed in her hair before shoving her head below the dash. She didn’t have time to see what was coming. To freaking gasp in a breath before there were tires screeching, horns blaring all around them. Something bumped their left rear side. Hard. Spinning the Jeep counterclockwise.
Six turned into the spin, executing a full three-sixty before countering and angling to the right—down what she assumed was an off-ramp. She swore the SUV tipped onto two wheels, but he kept it upright, hitting the gas and knocking her back in her seat.
Dull pops boomed through the air, then two holes cracked through the windshield, sending a spiderweb of lines across the glass. Six released her hair, unclipped her seatbelt then fisted her jacket and yanked her halfway into his seat, holding her there just as bits of her backrest shot through the air, a large hole right where her shoulder had been moments before.
Kam stared at the hole, breath lodged tight in her chest. If he hadn’t pulled her out of the way… “Christ, you really are psychic, aren’t you?” She stared up at him. “How else could you have known—”
“We can discuss that later, if you want. After we’re safe. Doesn’t look like these bastards are gonna quit.” He eased her back, taking the next right without even looking if cars were coming at them from the left. As if he knew the road was clear, and damn, he probably did.
He tossed her his phone. “Call Gibson. See how far out he is. We need backup.”
Kam searched through Six’s contacts, but the phone wouldn’t connect when she hit the man’s number. “I can’t get any service.”
“Damn it. They must be jamming the signal. Fine, we’ll just have to lose them.” He glanced at her. “You should buckle up, again.”
She nodded, not sure what else to say. He seemed so calm. Controlled. As if he barreled through the back streets of Seattle every day with armed men on his tail. Jumping through intersections. Running red lights. Which she knew, he didn’t. Not when they’d spent the majority of the past several months together. Sure, that one time they’d had to track Ellis, he’d exhibited the same freaky skills. But that didn’t account for the level of precision he showed, now. This innate ability to see the world in a way she doubted anyone else did. As if he lived life a few seconds ahead of everyone else.
Kam clipped herself in, inhaling sharply when Six shifted gears then pulled on the emergency break, fishtailing the Jeep around a tight left corner—cutting off a large semi. The truck hit the brakes, the pads screeching as the driver locked up the wheels. Sent the trailer jack-knifing off to their right.
Glass broke behind them, the telltale sound of metal crushing against metal rising above the squealing tires. Six’s hand shot out. Held her in place as he straightened the wheel, accelerating toward the next intersection.
Kam grasped onto the handle dangling beside her head, her knuckles white from the strain. “This is insane. How are we still in one piece?”
“This part’s easy. Figuring out where to lose that second car…”
There were two vehicles? Kam glanced over her shoulder. Smoke rose from the wreckage behind them, one black Chevy emerging out of the gray mass, headlights punching a hole through the swirling haze as it raced to catch up to them.
Six slowed, took another right, then picked up more speed. He kept his attention focused forward, gaze darting to the rearview every few seconds. “There’s too many cross streets to get enough speed to outrun them. Any ideas on where we should try to give them the slip?”
“You really did know who was going to win that raffle, didn’t you? God, did you know before you kissed me that it would turn out like that?”
“Not quite the answer I was looking for, sweetheart.”
She huffed. “Head for the warehouse district. We might be able to lose them in one of the buildings. And if you drive past the office, Gibson might see us if he’s there, already. Can follow behind. Now, can you answer my question?”
“Multitasking. I like it.”
“Six
!”
“Yes, I knew who would win the raffle. With only a few seconds to spare, I might add.”
“And the bathroom? The…kiss?”
Another stunning smile that made her stomach flutter more than his driving had. “That’s the strange part. You seem to be the one person I can’t read. At least, not like that. It’s…refreshing. So, no, Kam. I didn’t know how it was going to turn out until you slid your mouth over mine.” Another quick sideways glance. “But I know how I want the rest to go.”
Six narrowed his eyes. “They clipped one of the tires. We’ve got run-flats, but they’re gaining. You sure about the warehouse district?”
“It’s our best option if we end up having to ditch the Jeep. We’ll have more places to hide. And worst case, we can jump in the water. I doubt they’d follow.” She looked at him. “I’m familiar with the layout. How to use the buildings if we have to run. I was MI, Six. Trust me.”
“Always have, sweetheart. Think you can grab my Beretta out of the bag in the back without getting your ass shot off?”
“Please…”
Kam shimmied between the seats, rummaging through Six’s bag until she found his gun—nearly falling onto her ass when Six threw the vehicle around another corner—his hand on her butt keeping her from tumbling against the windshield. She mumbled under her breath, reclaiming her seat. Jerk had probably done that on purpose.
Six shifted gears, danced the damn Jeep around another corner, through an intersection then down an alley, skimming past boxes and garbage cans. He hit the next exchange going some insane speed, barely squeezing between two cars as he sailed over the four lanes, skidding onto a bridge.
Gravel pinged off the glass, skipping across the water, the fading light staining the ripples a deep red. Six hit the corner, spun the Wrangler, then kicked up more gravel, flinging the vehicle forward. He wove through a series of buildings, slipping beneath a partially opened garage door before skidding behind a stack of crates. He cut the engine and was out while the chassis was still rocking, racing for the rolling door.
He jumped, caught the lip and yanked it down, tumbling back as it crashed against the concrete. He rolled with the impact, gaining his feet as Kam stopped beside him, gun at the ready. Six grabbed her arm then led them back to a large set of cabinets flanked by a long counter—pushing her behind the metal sides as he crouched in the shadows, accepting the pistol when she offered it to him.
Six glanced over his shoulder at her, motioning toward a door in the wall behind them. He didn’t speak, but his message was clear. If things went sideways, he’d draw their fire while she snuck out the back.
Fat chance. She’d wouldn’t have left him before their personal circumstances had changed. Not a chance in hell she’d abandon him, now. He didn’t have to like it. Could read her the riot act, later. But she’d hold true to the creed—not leave a teammate behind. And Six was far more than just a teammate.
Six arched a brow, red slashing across his cheeks when she merely stared back at him, arms crossed, determination no doubt evident in the firm line of her back. He knew her well enough to recognize the look she flashed him. And the man wasn’t amused.
He shifted—probably to insist she follow his directive—when tires squealed beyond the closed door. The whine of an engine whizzed past, screeched to a halt, then reversed, stopping in front of the building. Voices echoed through the warehouse, the metal high jacking the words—making them nothing more than low murmurs as footsteps pounded the pavement. The rolling door rattled, the pulleys grinding on the metal chain as the bottom lifted off the ground.
Damn, the only way they could have known Six had parked in that warehouse was if they’d either put trackers on her and Six or they had access to a drone. Possibly hacked into the traffic cams. And since Cannon had already done a scan for trackers before they’d left Vegas, it only left the second option.
Six didn’t move. Didn’t seem to be breathing as he lined up some invisible target, holding steady as the door inched upwards, each jerk of the chain followed by another screech. It was a foot off the ground when gunfire ricocheted off the outside of the metal door, each ping echoing across the space.
The door dropped with a resounding thud, a stream of orders shouting between the trigger pulls. There was a short exchange of more gunfire, then the vehicle squealed off, the faint scent of burning rubber permeating the air.
Six stood, moved in front of Kam, then slowly angled them toward the rear door, grunting at the keypad lock barring their way. He waved her back, followed, then shot the lock. Sparks flashed in the air as the keypad short-circuited, an audible click sounding inside the box. Six took a step when the rolling door started moving, again. Faster than before. It stopped a few feet off the ground.
“Ya know, I don’t usually go around interfering in armed assaults, but damn, I’ve only ever seen one man drive like that. He had this Jedi mind thing going on. Never really did figure it out. But it made me wonder if he was the guy who’d sent me that nine-one-one code.”
A pair of legs appeared near the far corner. “Though, he must have had someone else hack the CIA for him, because he was never that elegant with computers. Either way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to cap my ass once I duck under this door. But if you do fire at me, I promise I’ll return it with extreme prejudice. Are we clear?”
Six shook his head then laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
He moved into the center of the warehouse, holstering the gun as the other guy darted beneath the door, leaning against it once he was clear. Dark hair, blue eyes, he looked about the same age as Six, but somehow even more lethal.
The guy grinned. “One day, Six, you’re gonna back yourself into a corner you can’t get out of. I thought you could see the future? Pull some miraculous save out of your ass at the last second.”
“You’re here, aren’t ya?”
“Jackass.” The guy looked at Kam. “Captain Monroe?”
Kam frowned, stepping in beside Six before inhaling. She knew that cocky smile. The smug tilt of the man’s lips. He’d been part of Six’s Delta Force unit. “Sergeant Ward?”
“It’s Officer Ward, now. But you can all me Crow, or Ryker if you’d prefer.” He pushed off the door, closing the distance between them by half. “Because I have a feeling those men aren’t done with you two, yet. Which means, the fun is just beginning.”
Chapter Eleven
“Well, I gotta hand it to you, Six. You’ve definitely taken the art of a Hail Mary to a whole new level. Though, I’m hurt that you didn’t think to invite me to the wedding. I thought we were brothers.”
Apparently, Six had a new name at the top of his shit list. And based on the gleam in Crow’s eyes, the jackass was just getting warmed up. Though, seeing as he’d singlehandedly just pulled his and Kam’s asses out of the proverbial fire, Six would let it slide. A bit.
Besides, it was damn good seeing the man, again. He’d lost track of the rest of Alpha squadron—not just Crow and Phoenix, Priest’s unit, too—when he’d gone civilian. Too much secrecy and not enough satellite phones to do his fellow brothers justice. But seeing Crow, now—things hadn’t really changed. He seemed a bit harder. As if he’d seen some bad shit since Six had last been fighting at his side. But Six couldn’t have asked for a better outcome if he’d rigged the damn lottery, himself.
Crow grinned. “I bet Cannon and Colt were pretty choked, too. And damn, just wait until Phoenix finds out. He’s gonna be butt hurt. And trust me, you don’t want to get on that kid’s bad side, now. He’s only gotten better with that damn rifle of his.”
Six would not punch his buddy in the face. He wouldn’t. “Crow. Can we try to focus on the current situation and not everyone’s bruised feelings?”
Crow snorted, leaning back on the couch. “Oh, you want to talk about this situation? The clusterfuck you’ve gotten yourself into? Sure. Let’s start with the freaking risk you took by having Ellis send out a bloody SOS when you didn�
�t have a clue who was going to answer it. What if I’d been batting for the other team?”
Six crossed his arms, nodding toward Gibson. The man had arrived at the office just a few minutes after they had—on foot. Six didn’t know where Gibson had parked his vehicle, but he obviously wasn’t taking any chances. Which had only increased the other man’s anger when he’d been briefed on the turn of events. He’d been thoroughly pissed that he hadn’t witnessed the chase the way Crow had and been able to follow. Gibson hadn’t stopped scouting the windows and doors, since. Said he could hear just fine, and that he wasn’t bloody well getting caught with his knickers down, again.
Six was still trying to figure out how the Brit made the word knickers sound lethal as he grinned at Crow. “I had backup. Besides, I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case.”
“Christ, do not start with that mind-reading crap.” Crow focused on Kam. “Has he explained that to you, yet?”
Kam looked over at him, eyes sparkling. That perfect mouth of hers lifted into a bemused smirk. “As a matter of fact, he hasn’t.”
“Well, can you clue the rest of us in on it if he ever does, because I spent the better part of ten years slogging through hell with this guy, and I still don’t understand how he does it.”
“That’s part of his charm.”
“Not the word I would have chosen, honey.” Crow laughed. “But, I’d be lying if I said the jerk hasn’t saved my ass from getting filled with lead more times than I can count. So, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Six sighed. “Except for the one time you really needed me to.”
Crow grunted then shifted forward. “If you’re talking about Somalia, and we both know you are, you’re wrong. If you hadn’t tackled me when you did—catching a couple of bullets for your efforts if memory serves—I’d have bled out on that damn stretch of sand. Just because it wasn’t the outcome you would have preferred, doesn’t mean you still didn’t save my life. Not something I’ll ever forget, either, buddy.” Crow scrubbed a hand down his face. “And where this whole damn thing began, it seems. The catalyst that set everything into motion. So…let’s talk about Roger McCormick.”