Lethal Consequences (The Aegis Series Book 2)

by Elisabeth Naughton

  He laid her out on the bed, still kissing her, then rolled so she was on top of all his muscular, sexy goodness. And when she was breathless, when she had to pull away to draw air, he looked up at her with the softest, stormiest eyes she’d ever seen. Eyes that weren’t lust-filled and wild anymore. Eyes that brimmed with guilt and regret.

  Those eyes shot straight to the center of her chest and stole her breath. She knew what he was about to say. Knew he was going to tell her that was a mistake and couldn’t happen again. But she wasn’t about to listen. She slid down and rested her head on his chest, loving the beat of his heart against her cheek. Loving the warmth of his skin bare against hers. Loving . . . him.

  Eve was right. She’d totally fallen for him. But not the fantasy hero Eve assumed. No, Olivia had fallen for the real, live man. The broken, damaged, wounded man who was still too afraid to let her get close.

  “Livy.” His fingers slid along her scalp and down her locks to tease and tickle the ends of her hair. “In the morning, you need to—”

  Oh no. They weren’t going there. Not right now. Not when those delicious orgasms still echoed in her body.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  His hand stilled in her hair, and beneath her cheek, she felt his pulse pick up speed.

  Interesting. She made him nervous. She liked that. Liked it a lot because it told her this wasn’t just physical on his part. It was so much more.

  “Yeah,” he said cautiously.

  Olivia placed her palms on his chest and rested her chin on the back of her hand, looking up at his handsome, bruised face. “Where do you live?”

  His features relaxed, and he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “Atlanta.”

  “House or apartment?”

  “Apartment.”

  “It’s hot in Atlanta.”

  “Sometimes.”

  She smiled because this was what normal couples did. They talked. “Do you like it?”

  He shrugged, still playing with her hair. “I don’t dislike it. I’m not there all that much, so I don’t think about it. It’s just a home base.”

  “Are you from Atlanta?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then how did you end up there?”

  He looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Major airport. Centrally located. Easy to get places.”

  That’s how he picked where he lived? That was so . . . sad.

  He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. “Why the twenty questions?”

  This time it was her turn to shrug. “Just curious.” She ran her finger over the scar high across his cheek. “How did you get this?”

  He stiffened beneath her. And several long seconds passed before he said, “My father.”

  A little voice warned this wasn’t a conversation for the after-sex glow, but she wanted to know about him. Wanted to know everything. “How?”

  He stared at her with assessing eyes, and she knew she’d hit some kind of nerve. She braced herself for him to pull away, but he surprised her when he said, “My dad was a big guy. Built like me.” He lifted his hand from her back and turned it in the light, looking at his wide palm and long fingers. “He had big hands. Like mine.” His fingers curled against his palm, forming a fist. “And he liked to use them.”

  Unease filtered through Olivia, and that conversation she’d had with Eve echoed in her mind.

  He sighed and dropped his hand. “He drank, and when he was loaded, he used to like to beat up on my mom. He’d never touch me, though. If I did something to piss him off, she’d step between us, then send me to my room. From the time I was little I can remember them fighting. I can still hear the sounds. Not a great way to grow up.”

  No, Olivia guessed it would be a horrible way to grow up. “What happened?”

  “One night when I was twelve, he came home rip-roaring drunk. I was at a friend’s house. But when I walked in the door, he was pounding on her. Her face was black and blue and bleeding. I could tell he wasn’t done and that he was just getting started. But by that point, I’d had enough. I got between them, which pissed him off even more. He slammed the beer he was drinking against the counter, shattering the bottle, and hurled the jagged glass toward me.” He waved his finger near the scar high on his cheek. “Hit me right here.” He waved his finger again across his jaw, near the smaller scar on the same side of his face. “And here.”

  Bile slid up Olivia’s throat. His own father . . . But something in the pit of her stomach told her that wasn’t the end of the story. “What happened then?”

  “Then,” he said, looking back up toward the ceiling, “things got ugly.”

  The faraway look in his eyes told her he was remembering back, reliving the horror, and she hated that she was bringing it all up for him again, but something inside her sensed this was at the root of who he was. And she wanted him to know that whatever had happened, it didn’t change anything for her.

  “What happened, Landon?”

  He didn’t look at her, just kept staring up at the ceiling. “We lived in Pennsylvania. A small town outside Pittsburgh. Our trailer was a dump, but my parents owned a couple acres, and there was this big pond I used to swim in during the summer. It was fall. Cold. A little foggy. I ran out of the house and down toward the pond. I knew he’d follow, stumbling and cursing, like always. I knew he wouldn’t be able to see shit in the dark. Knew exactly how the bastard thought. I lured him out there.”

  Understanding dawned. He didn’t have to say the words. She knew his father hadn’t bothered anyone after that.

  “What happened after?” she asked quietly.

  He blew out a long breath. “The police came. My mother told them about the fight, but she lied and said she was the one who’d run out of the house. Said he followed and was so drunk he lost his footing and fell into the pond and then drowned. She lied to keep me out of juvie.”

  “She lied because she loved you. There’s a big difference.”

  His stormy eyes slowly slid to hers. Pained eyes. Eyes she knew held on to guilt from way more than just what had happened to her. “The end result was the same. I killed him.”

  “You saved your mother’s life. And yours.”

  He closed his eyes. “Olivia—”

  “If you’re looking for shock value, you’re talking to the wrong person.” She shifted her weight to her knees on each side of him and braced her hands on the mattress near his head. “I know there are bad people in the world. I know they do awful things. I’ve seen them, remember? I also know those awful people aren’t supposed to be members of your own family.”

  “I was twelve, Olivia. What I did . . . The DIA didn’t teach me to do that. That was all me.”

  “You’re right. You were twelve. You were just a kid trying to survive. I don’t blame you for that.”

  “You would if you knew some of the other things I’ve done.”

  “Landon, open your eyes.”

  Slowly, he did, and in his stormy, brown eyes she saw exactly what was holding him back. It wasn’t his job or where she lived or the differences between them. It was the fact he didn’t think he was good enough. Not just for her, but for anyone. Himself included.

  Her heart swelled. And she knew right then that she loved him. Loved him not because of what he’d done for her, but because of who he was. And everything he’d lived through to get to this point.

  “I don’t care about the things you’ve done,” she said softly. “All I care about is what you do now. And the man I know now has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

  He closed his eyes again. “I’m just like him.”

  “No, you’re not.” She leaned down and brushed her mouth over his. “You’re nothing like him.” He drew in a sharp breath and held it while her lips gently skimmed his. “I wouldn’t be anywhere near you if you were.” S
he tipped her head the other way and kissed him once more, wanting to ease his suffering. Wanting to share it with him. “I wouldn’t need to feel you inside me again right this second if you were.”

  He groaned, slid his hands up to her face, and opened to her kiss, taking her mouth with so much passion, she felt it all the way in her toes. And as he rolled her to her back and continued to kiss her, she knew this was a start, not an end like she’d thought only hours before.

  When she was breathless and aching again, he pulled back and looked down at her. The torment was gone, but that fear she recognized was back. A fear she wasn’t about to let him use against her.

  He skimmed a finger over her cheek. “I need you to go home with Eve tomorrow. Can you do that for me?”

  She lifted her mouth back to his. “Nope.”

  He sighed in exasperation. “Olivia—”

  “You use my full name whenever you’re frustrated with me.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Ever notice that?”

  He frowned down at her. “That’s an awful lot lately.”

  She smiled and kissed the other side of his mouth. “I know. I like it.”

  “Livy—”

  Warmth spread all through her chest. She loved when he called her that. “I’m not going back with Eve, Landon. So you can either leave me here alone or take me with you to find Danica Crossler.”

  His expression narrowed. “You can’t manipulate me.”

  “I’m not.” She kissed the scar near his cheekbone, then the one along his jaw. “I’m just telling you the way it is.”

  He closed his eyes as her lips moved down to his jaw, then across to his ear. “I’ve been beaten, starved, shocked . . . you name it and I’ve lived through it. But you, Olivia Wolfe. You just might be the person to break me.”

  “Only if it breaks you to my will.” She moved back to his mouth and kissed him one more time. “I’m not going anywhere, Landon.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving that he was still fighting her on this, loving that she mattered that much to him. Before, his stubbornness would have aggravated her, but now all it did was reaffirm that she had the power, and they both knew it. “I’d be worried there was something wrong with you if you capitulated too quickly.”

  “You’re trouble for me, woman.”

  She was. And she loved that too.

  She slid her tongue into his mouth and leaned back into the mattress, tugging him on top of her. Her legs opened, and she groaned as his weight pressed against hers and his hand skimmed her side, then traced the length of her arm.

  This she could definitely get used to. They’d turned a corner tonight, and whether he admitted it or not, she knew he was aware of that fact too. She didn’t care how long it took, she was going to convince him he could get used to this too.

  He eased back from her mouth and looked down at her arm. “What is that?”

  Frustrated he’d stopped kissing her, she glanced toward her inner arm and realized what he was seeing. A whisper of unease rushed through her. “It’s nothing. Just a bruise.”

  “I don’t remember seeing that before.” He leaned closer to get a better look. “Did you get caught in some brush when we were running? When did you notice it?”

  Olivia sighed. He was sliding back into overprotective mode. This was exactly why she hadn’t told him—because she hadn’t wanted him to worry. But now it seemed there was no way to hide it anymore. “When we were at that compound and they took me back to question me, they gave me some kind of injection. I thought it was more drugs to knock me out, but I guess it wasn’t. Maybe truth serum? I have no idea. You’re the superspy. Anyway, whatever it was, it didn’t work because I never felt any different.”

  He turned her arm to get a better look in the low light, and she saw the worry creeping into his eyes. Worry that was going to derail their romantic evening if she didn’t head it off. “I have sensitive skin, Landon. It’s no big deal. Whenever I have blood drawn or get vaccines, my skin bruises.”

  “That’s not a bruise.” Landon held her arm still in the moonlight spilling through the window, and she watched his face pale. Watched every muscle in his body tighten. He pushed off her and rolled to his hip. “Get dressed.”

  The fine hairs all along Olivia’s nape stood straight. She glanced down at her inner arm. The area around the injection site wasn’t just dark blue, it was turning black, something she hadn’t paid much attention to until this moment.

  “Get dressed right now,” Landon said again, already tugging on his jeans, his voice tight. “Hurry.”

  “Call me with an update tomorrow.” Jake Ryder ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the hall outside the gym with his phone pressed to his ear, putting out fires three thousand miles away. Cade Blackwell, ex-FBI and one of his best operatives, was currently having problems with a client who refused to listen to reason. A common occurrence with rich assholes who knew diddly-squat about security.

  “Will do,” Blackwell said. “And let me know if you need anything in Italy from my end. Can’t believe the shit Miller’s in. Glad it’s not me.”

  Jake frowned. “I’ll be sure to pass that sentiment along. Stay out of trouble, Blackwell.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  Jake hit End and shoved his phone into his pocket. Some days he wondered why the hell he’d started a security company. He could have simply taken over his father’s megacorporation and lived the easy life on his old man’s money.

  Shaking his head, he turned back for the gym. Like that would ever happen. He never touched the money that was left for him. Couldn’t stand to take a single thing from the son of a bitch who’d barely spared him a second look in life. Hell, the only reason he used the man’s properties now was because they were beneficial to Aegis. And because his shit-for-brains father never would have approved of his crew running wild through his pristine homes.

  He pushed the door to the gym open and stepped back inside. Marley and Mick Hedley were both picking up towels and replacing gym equipment. Jake glanced at his watch, wanting nothing more than to drop into bed for a good five hours before he had to get up and do it all again. “You both should hit the hay. Marley, I need you up early gathering info on the Red Brotherhood’s latest targets.”

  Marley dropped the towel in her hand on a chair and stepped out onto the mat. “Sleep can wait. Mick and I have been practicing, but I need a new challenge. What do you say, boss man?”

  Jake glanced up from his watch and eyed his assistant. Dressed in only a fitted blue tank and black spandex running shorts that showed off muscles in her ass and legs Jake didn’t need to notice, Marley grinned, the twinkle in her eye catching him completely off guard. She wasn’t serious, was she?

  “Dead serious,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Come on, Jake. I dare you.”

  “You dare me?” He huffed. “What are you, five?”

  Her smile widened. A smile Jake hadn’t seen on her before. One that lit up her face and made her blue eyes absolutely sparkle. “Chicken?”

  An odd tingle ran through Jake’s belly. One he didn’t want. “I’m not Marty McFly. Taunting me isn’t going to work. Come on, get off the mat.”

  Marley stayed right where she was. “You know, I never see you in the gym with the guys. Getting soft in your old age? Or are you just too afraid to mess up your fancy clothes?”

  Jake glanced down at the Brooks Brothers slacks and Hugo Boss dress shirt he’d yet to change out of since he and Marley had hopped that flight from Kentucky to Rome, then looked back to her. He made a point not to work out with the guys in the Aegis gyms. That was their space to blow off steam between ops, and he knew all too well how much it sucked to have a CO—or boss—invading your downtime.

  “Trust me, Addison, you don’t want this. I won’t go easy on you like Hedley.”
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  Across the mat, Hedley swiped a towel across the back of his neck and chuckled. “She might surprise you, boss.”

  Jake doubted it. People rarely surprised him. Not after the shit he’d seen.

  Marley moved to the middle of the mat. “We’ll see. Take your shoes off.”

  A little voice in the back of his head warned this was a really bad idea. He could see from the wicked glint in Marley’s blue eyes that she was just goading him, but for some reason, the implication that she thought he was weak revved his adrenaline.

  He toed off his Prada loafers before he thought better of it, pushed his sleeves up past his elbows, and joined her on the mat. “Hedley’s a witness. I warned you.”

  Marley smiled as she circled around him. “There you go, thinking I’m nothing but a secretary.”

  He didn’t think she was just a secretary. He knew she was a hell of a lot more. But he also knew he needed to make sure she knew her place.

  He lowered his head and lunged for her legs to drop her in a two-leg takedown, one that wouldn’t hurt her too much. But before he could grab hold, she slammed her arms on each of his shoulders, blocking his momentum, then wrapped her right forearm under and around his throat in a guillotine hold. The movement cut off his airflow, and even before her knee connected with his abdomen and her other hand braced against his shoulder, he knew he was going over. She jerked her weight back, dragging him with her, then shoved hard against his belly, flipping him up and over her shoulder until his back slammed against the mat.

  Marley let go of him, rolled over, and pushed to her hands and knees. She grinned down at him. “You okay?”

  Jake blinked several times, staring at her upside-down face. That was not a first timer’s move. Not even close. And she knew he knew it. Her sky-blue eyes absolutely sparkled. “You could have snapped my neck.”

  “I know.” Her smile widened. “I chose not to.”