A Spy For a Spy

by Diane Henders

  Hellhound grabbed my hand and wrapped it around the bottle. “An’ ya ain’t goin’ anywhere tonight. If ya really gotta go somewhere, I’ll drive ya, or ya can get a taxi. Drink up.”

  “Thank you.” I poured a long swallow down my throat. “Oh, thank you, God.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Wise guy.”

  He flopped into his broken-down chair, stretching his legs out and taking a long swallow of his own beer. “Jesus, darlin’, this day’s finally gettin’ better.” He grimaced. “’Course most of it sucked shit, so it wasn’t like it was gonna get much worse.”

  “Be careful saying things like that.”

  He grunted agreement and swigged from his bottle again.

  “What did John say?” I clenched my icy bottle, bracing myself.

  “He said don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault. Ya warned him an’ he shoulda known better.”

  “What else did he say?” I cuddled deeper into the blanket and savoured another crisp, cold mouthful, secure in the knowledge that Hellhound’s photographic memory would disgorge a complete and accurate account of the conversation.

  “He wanted to know if ya were okay, an’ if ya were in any danger. He wants to know who’s framin’ him, an’ why this person would think harmin’ him would be leverage against ya. ‘Cause nobody should think he’s anythin’ to ya but a co-worker.” He shot me a piercing look.

  “He’s right, nobody else would think that.” I considered for a moment and decided it was probably best not to mention it was Doytchevsky. If Kane went after Doytchevsky while under suspension, he could end up in even more trouble than he was already.

  I sighed. “I can’t tell him who it is, but the guy who took the pictures thought since we were kissing, I must care about John.” I pressed the cold bottle against my forehead. “Oh, shit. The sexual harassment thing is my fault. I must have given him the idea.”

  “What? How?”

  I clutched a handful of hair and tugged. “I was trying to convince him I didn’t care, and I said something stupid like ‘I don’t care if that asshole gets in trouble, he was kissing me, I wasn’t kissing him’. Something like that. I can’t remember exactly, but I’m sure it put the idea in his head.”

  “Hm.” Hellhound’s fingers found the guitar strings again, brushing them lightly. “Don’t see how ya coulda done anythin’ different, though, darlin’.” He tipped another measure of beer down his throat. “Anyway, no point in rippin’ yourself up over it. It’s done. But here’s somethin’ that’s worryin’ me.” He frowned. “If the photos were his leverage, he just gave ‘em up. Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. Just to prove he was serious, I guess.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense, darlin’. If he’s already hurt ya, what’s he got left? If ya didn’t give him what he wanted when he was holdin’ a threat, why the hell would ya give him anythin’ now?” His fingers closed on the neck of the guitar. “Unless he’s got somethin’ else in his back pocket that’s gonna hurt ya even worse. An’ he wants ya to know he ain’t afraid to use it.”

  I shivered with a chill that had nothing to do with cold beer. “He’s got nothing on me. He doesn’t even know me…” My throat squeezed shut on the words.

  He had been friends with my husband for years. He knew more about me than anyone except maybe Nichele.

  He was a spy with decades of experience. He was probably as dangerous as Kane. Hell, more dangerous. He was a nutcase into the bargain. And I’d been lulled into believing his geeky, harmless façade.

  “Oh, fuck, I’m too dumb to live!” I beat my forehead against my draw-up knees. “I’m such a fucking moron! Goddammit!”

  “Jesus, darlin’, what?” Arnie eyed me worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go. Right now.” I sprang up and pushed my unfinished beer into his hand.

  “Whoa, hold on!”

  By the time he put down the beer bottles, I already had one arm in my coat and one foot jammed half-way into one of my boots. Hopping and flapping, I caromed off the half-wall by the door. “OW! Fuck-goddamn-sonuvabitch-motherf-”

  “Stop! Aydan, stop.” Arnie’s powerful arms closed around me and I tried to pull free, one arm still trapped by the coat. His grip tightened painfully on my bruises.

  “Ow!”

  His arms flew open, his eyes widening. Completely off balance, I staggered and tripped over my own half-shod foot.

  In the slow instant of clarity that precedes impact, my brain offered up the helpful observation that this was really going to hurt.

  Fuck, did it hurt.

  Sprawled on Hellhound’s door mat, I tried to swear, but my breath caught inside a cage of pain. I managed a faint mewling sound, which was neither comfortable nor satisfying.

  “Aydan, Jesus, darlin’…” Arnie dove to his knees beside me. “Don’t try to move. Just lie still. Did ya hit your head?”

  “No.” This time I managed a whisper. “I’m fine.”

  “Can ya move your legs?”

  I demonstrated my competence by rolling over with a groan to toss aside the boot that had been crushed into my aching side. “Ow. Fuck. I’m fine. And I’m still an idiot.” Wincing, I hauled myself upright despite his protests. “And I still have to go.”

  “Ya ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  He had gotten between me and the door.

  Shit.

  Muscular legs planted like tree trunks, bulging tattooed arms crossed over his bulky chest, he stared down at me with all the sweet compliance of a bull facing a matador. “Now you’re gonna tell me what the fuck’s wrong, an’ then if I agree that ya gotta go, we’ll figure somethin’ out.”

  “Arnie, please, just let me go. I don’t have time for this.”

  “Well, shit, darlin’, that’s too bad. ‘Cause I got all night.” He glowered at me. “So ya better start talkin’.”

  I didn’t dare take time to argue. “He’s probably following me. He’s probably listening in on my cell phone calls. That means either you or Nichele will be his next leverage. If I leave right now, there’s still a chance that you might stay safe.”

  I yanked on my coat, wincing and swearing at the fresh pain, and stuffed my feet into my boots. “Arnie, please, I have to go.”

  “Who beat ya up?”

  “Nobody. I fell.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s the truth!”

  I eyed him desperately. I’d never be able to get past him. And at the moment I really didn’t feel athletic enough to escape from a third-floor balcony.

  “Please, Arnie! I really did fall.”

  “Ya promised not to lie to me.”

  “I swear I’m not lying.”

  He sighed. “Okay, Aydan, here’s the thing. Ya gotta know I ain’t gonna let ya run outta here just ‘cause you’re tryin’ to protect me. I been workin’ with Stemp’s covert ops guys for longer than ya even know. Twenty-one years in the army. Combat.” He waved a hand in the direction of his damaged face. “Ya know the rest a’ my shit. I ain’t some delicate little flower.”

  “I know, Arnie, but this guy’s nuts. He’s obsessed. I think he’ll do anything it takes, hurt anybody it takes, to get what he wants. I don’t want him anywhere near anybody I care about and… you aren’t listening, are you?”

  “Nope. All I heard was ‘Okay, Arnie, you’re right. I’m gonna take off my coat an’ drink my beer an’ stop doin’ fuckin’ stupid shit like runnin’ off to fight some fuckin’ nut job all by myself’. I’m pretty sure that’s what ya said, wasn’t it?”

  The last of my energy deserted me and I sank to the floor to bury my face in my hands. “I can’t do this. I just can’t do this anymore.”

  He knelt beside me, smoothing my hair. “Then maybe it’s time ya stopped tryin’. Come on, darlin’. Take off your coat an’ drink your beer.”

  A few beers later, I squinted at Hellhound and giggled. “Shit, I guess I’m tore… more… tired… than I thought. I�
��m fuggen wasted.”

  He chuckled. “Good. That’s what I wanna hear. Come on, darlin’, let’s get ya to bed.”

  “’S’okay, I’m fine here.” I snuggled a little lower on the couch.

  “Nah, I still gotta get some work done tonight.” He jerked his chin toward the tiny bedroom that held his computer. “The light’ll be right in your face. An’ if you’re hurtin’ from that fall, ya shouldn’t be crunched up on the couch. Come on. Up ya get.” I accepted his outstretched hand and let him pull me to my feet.

  “I’m okay,” I protested. “I can walk just fine. I’m just at that silly-drunk stage… oops…”

  He steered me around the coffee table, which had inexplicably planted itself in my path.

  “…and anyway, I need to pee,” I finished.

  “Here ya go.” The bathroom appeared in front of me. “Don’t lock the door.”

  I peered at the mirror and recoiled from the slack-jawed, droopy-eyed apparition that confronted me. “Right.”

  I successfully navigated the bathroom and managed a more-or-less straight line in the direction of the bedroom, stripping off my T-shirt as I went. Arnie turned from closing the blinds as I slumped against the door to fumble at my jeans.

  “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Aydan!”

  Suddenly he was beside me, and I squinted up at his shocked expression. “Wha…?”

  “What the hell did ya fall off of, a fuckin’ skyscraper?”

  “Oh.” I peered down at my blackened torso and giggled. “No. A pallet of C4. I mean, before I blew it up. Well, I blew up two of them, but I only fell off one of them.”

  With an effort, I focused on his face. He was frowning.

  “I fell off my dirt bike, too,” I added helpfully. “Twice. Well, the first time the esk… ‘skplosion blew me off it. But at least I didn’t fall out the window. The guard fell out… well, I kind of pushed him out…” I giggled at the memory. “He bent over and I put my foot on his ass and…” I mimed a shove with my foot.

  Arnie seized my shoulders and righted me when the room slid sideways. I giggled again. “…but I didn’t fall out. I climbed out. And he didn’t get hurt. I saved him.” My throat constricted suddenly at the memory. “But I couldn’t save the dog.”

  Tears prickled behind my eyes. “Oh, Arnie, I blew up a dog. It was such a nice dog, too. Hardly bit me… at all…”

  I fought a ragged breath that wanted to turn into a sob. “…and I… can’t sleep… and… I… keep seeing…” To my horror, a couple of tears spilled over, trickling down my cheeks. “Shit… sorry…” I scrubbed at my face, grappling for control.

  “Aw, darlin’…”

  His arms closed around me, warm and strong and safe, and I jerked away to flee for the bathroom before I lost it completely.

  Cranking on the cold tap full blast, I hunched over the sink, cupping my palms to splash icy water on my face over and over, diluting the hot tears. At last I got myself together and stuck my mouth under the tap for a few swallows. Turning the water off, I appropriated Arnie’s towel before slithering down the wall to sit on the floor, still clutching the towel.

  God, what a pathetic loser. Get shit-faced and drip tears all over the guy who’d probably end up paying for my incompetence with his life. If I thought Hellhound actually owned a razor, I’d go looking for it to slit my wrists.

  A tap on the door made me groan.

  “Aydan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m gonna come in now, okay?”

  I buried my face in the towel. Why the hell not? It wasn’t like I had any dignity left anyway.

  “Okay.”

  The door bumped my foot, and I shuffled over to allow enough room for Arnie to slip inside. He manoeuvred his bulk nimbly into the small space and sat on the floor beside me, and I let my head fall against his shoulder. We sat in silence.

  “Aydan?” he said at last.

  I roused myself from my stupor. “Yeah.”

  “My ass’s killin’ me on this damn hard floor, an’ I gotta take a leak. Can ya get outta the bathroom now?”

  Somehow it was the perfect thing to say.

  I laughed and threw my arms around him. “I love you!” The words slipped out unguarded and I froze.

  Great, just great. Top off the night by saying the only words guaranteed to make him run screaming.

  He grinned. “Well, hell, darlin’, what’s not to love?”

  I let out my breath in a whoosh. “Thanks for not taking that wrong.”

  He shrugged. “I trust ya.”

  Warmth bloomed in my chest, stealing my breath at the magnitude of the compliment. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  We levered ourselves up from the floor accompanied by a duet of groans and obscenities. Hellhound straightened slowly. “Fuck, darlin’, I’m too old for this shit.”

  I rubbed my aching ass. “Tell me about it.”

  I closed the door behind me and limped for the bedroom.

  Chapter 20

  I swam gradually to wakefulness, so comfortable and relaxed I thought I might ooze through the mattress. Soft snoring from behind me identified the warm weight draped over my hip as Hellhound’s arm, and I squeezed my eyes shut again and snuggled a little closer.

  The snoring stopped.

  I held still, keeping my breathing slow and deep. Maybe he’d go back to sleep and I could lie here forever…

  His hand eased off as if trying not to wake me. Damn.

  A moment later, my breath caught when he caressed my hair aside, his lips pressing smooth heat and whiskery roughness against my nape. The tingling kisses trailed slowly down my spine as if counting the vertebrae, and I moaned and shivered, my body opening into the slow ache of need.

  Forget faking sleep. I rolled over and pulled him to me.

  He took my mouth in one of his mind-melting kisses, his tongue promising all the many ways he could make me very, very happy. Starving for his touch, I pulled his hand to my breast, arching against him.

  He drew back, his hand still hovering hot over my breast, his palm barely brushing it in an exquisite feather of sensation.

  “Oh, God, Arnie, please don’t stop!” I tried to pull him into another kiss, but he propped himself on his elbow to look down at me.

  “Darlin’, what kind of a friend would I be if I got ya drunk…”

  His palm moved in a small circle, making me gasp.

  “...an’ took advantage of ya the very next mornin’…” He eased lower in the bed. I watched, transfixed, while his mouth moved closer to my breast.

  “…while you’re still feelin’ weak…”

  Closer.

  Please.

  Oh, please.

  “…when I know ya been tryin’ to stay outta my bed…”

  His breath was hot on me, his lips a mere fraction away. Another tiny movement of his palm made me whimper as every nerve fibre strained toward his touch.

  “God, Arnie, you know I never wanted to stay out of your bed.” My voice came out jerky and breathless.

  Touch me, please, please…

  “Sure seemed like it to me.” His moustache grazed my nipple when he spoke, an electric jolt of sensation.

  “Ahh! I thought…” Another gasp disrupted my words when he exhaled slowly, the warm current curling around sensitive tissue. “Oh God… You dumped me… I was trying to do what you wanted…”

  “I busted my ass to get ya together with Kane.” He gave me that sleepy-eyed grin I knew so well. “Ya told me it wouldn’t work. He told me it wouldn’t work. Well, hell. I ain’t a fuckin’ saint.”

  His lips closed on my breast, the hot suction exploding through my nerve endings. My body bucked under his mouth, a cry bursting out of me.

  “Hmmm.” He pulled away just far enough to apply another moment of magnificent whisker torture when he spoke. “Guess ya missed me.”

  I clutched at him, panting. “You have no… idea…” The last word turned into a moan when his lips and tongue went into action
again, his dexterous fingers playing my other breast at the same time.

  The delicious shocks of pleasure reflected each other, amplifying into a pulsing current. My hips jerked to the rhythm, begging for his hand as it drifted off my breast to search lower.

  Teasing fingertips circled close, then closer still, light touches that made my body strain toward him in desperate anticipation while his mouth drove me wild.

  When his hand slid between my legs, I couldn’t prevent my cry, my hips driving up to meet him.

  He raised his head from my breast to smile, watching me while his unerring fingers found the perfect position and rhythm. “Missed hearin’ ya moanin’ like that,” he rasped. He dropped his mouth back to my breast, stroking heat into me all the while.

  The sweet pressure built, my body moving to his delicious rhythm while his tongue and fingers coaxed me to the edge.

  My breath stopped, the first tremors of orgasm holding me suspended for an exquisite instant before the flood of sensation swept me up and tumbled me into the glorious chaos of ecstasy.

  Gasping, I rode the waves until they began to diminish at last. I dragged my eyes open to see Hellhound’s smile, his hand still moving lazily, rocking me on the last ripples of pleasure.

  “Oh… God… Arnie…” I reached for him. “I need you…”

  “Darlin’, you’re too beat up. I don’t wanna hurt ya.” He stretched out beside me, trailing kisses across my shoulder. “I can wait.”

  “I can’t.” I lurched to my trembling knees to reach for the bedside table. He rolled onto his back, his smile widening while I fumbled with the slippery condom wrapper, swearing with desperate lust.

  “Here, darlin’, let me.”

  I feverishly blessed his adept hands while he quickly dealt with the wrapper and its contents. Before he could change position, I swung astride.

  “Ah, darlin’!” His rasp mingled with my groan of satisfaction as I slid onto him.

  “Slow… Give it to me slow, darlin’… wanna take my time…”

  His hands cupped my ass and I moved mindlessly under his guidance while the hot tension coiled up inside me. Through half-closed eyes, I saw him watching me with his heavy-eyed smile. I bore down and rocked back, catching my breath at the feel of him deep inside me.