Renegade Alpha (ALPHA 5)

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Renegade Alpha (ALPHA 5) Page 17

by Carole Mortimer


  “I said no, damn it!” Lijah snapped forcefully.

  Callie’s hands were curled into fists, but she didn’t notice her nails digging painfully into her flesh. She could only think of being so near Richard Stockton she would be close enough to shoot him.

  She’d never had violent tendencies in her life, would swerve her car to avoid hitting an animal or bird on the road, and she always collected spiders in the house in a tissue and put them outside rather than kill them. The same went for mice and other rodents. No matter how unpleasant she found them, she could never harm one of them.

  But Richard Stockton?

  Oh yes, after last night Callie now believed she was capable of shooting him. And setting up a meeting with him might give her the opportunity to do exactly that.

  She straightened in her chair. “How would we go about contacting him to set up the meeting?” She gave a grimace. “It isn’t as if he’s in the local telephone directory. Even if he was, I very much doubt we would ever get through to the man himself. What?” she prompted sharply as all the men now seemed to be avoiding meeting her gaze. “Lijah?”

  He breathed out noisily, expressing his frustration with this conversation. “We managed to capture one of Stockton’s men during the shooting last night. It was another reason I was delayed coming back to the house—”

  “What?” Now it was Callie’s turn to stand up. “Why haven’t you told me that before now?” she questioned accusingly as the two of them faced off like adversaries.

  His jaw was locked tight. “As I recall, you had a gun last night, and the mood you were in, you would probably have gone downstairs and just shot him!”

  She felt the heat in her cheeks at the accuracy of that accusation. Last night, she had been out of her mind with worry about Lijah and his men—mainly Lijah, she acknowledged, shame-faced—as well as fearing for her own life. Yes, knowing they had taken one of Richard Stockton’s men prisoner, she might have shot first and felt regret later.

  “Besides which, this mission is on a need-to-know basis, and you didn’t need to know that,” Lijah added coolly.

  Callie stared at him incredulously. Mission? Was that all she still was to Lijah, a mission?

  And how could he not tell her something as important as having captured one of Richard Stockton’s men?

  More to the point, had Lijah made love to her last night in order to keep her distracted, and avoid having her ask questions?

  The cold and challenging glitter in those dark blue eyes said he had.

  The pain of that realization ripped through Callie’s chest like the piercing of a knife. Their closeness, the intensity of their pleasure. Oh, she had no doubt he had enjoyed it. It was difficult for a man to fake physical arousal, after all. But it had all just been a means to an end to Lijah. And she had been fool enough to fall for it.

  Callie narrowed her own eyes on him as a warning of her own increasing anger. “What did he tell you? Has he admitted that Stockton is his employer? Did he have anything to do with my father’s death?” she demanded. “And don’t tell me you haven’t questioned him, because I won’t believe you.”

  “Yes, I’ve questioned him,” Lijah acknowledged tersely. Several of them had questioned the man they were now holding prisoner in the pool house on the Wynter estate. Either the man feared Stockton more than he did them, or he didn’t know anything, because he wasn’t talking, no matter what the inducement. “He refuses to tell us anything, least of all who he works for.”

  “But you could release him and send him back to his employer with a message that I want to meet, am I right?”

  Of course she was right. Lijah just had no intention of allowing that to happen.

  She turned to Jonas. “I’ll do it.”

  “No, you fucking well won’t.”

  Her gaze was as distant as her expression as she glanced at Lijah after his outburst. “I appreciate your concern, but I believe I’m old enough to make up my own mind as to what I will and won’t do. And I’m doing this.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind leaving us, gentlemen…” Lijah’s gaze didn’t waver from hers as he waited for the other men to leave the kitchen before leaning forward across the table with his clenched fists, his face now just inches away from Callie’s. “You ‘appreciate my concern,’” he repeated, dangerously soft.

  Callie moistened her lips before swallowing, the only sign she was at all intimidated by his proximity. “I just said so, yes. And this is a good plan—”

  “It’s a fucking awful plan,” he dismissed impatiently. “This is real, Callie. Fuck, it doesn’t get any more real than this,” he added disgustedly. “And if we’re going to have men out there when the two of you meet, then so is Stockton, and you can depend on it they will have orders to shoot to kill.”

  “Then we’ll just have to ensure that we get a confession out of him before that happens—”

  “We will get a confession out of him in our own way. You aren’t going anywhere near the bastard!”

  Her chin rose stubbornly. “I could always talk to Dair Grayson. I’m sure once I’ve explained the situation to him, he would see the benefit of Jonas’s plan.”

  “How many times do I have to say it? There is no fucking plan!” If Lijah had ever been this angry in his life before now, then he didn’t remember it. Not even when it came to his father, and his shitty childhood. “And attempt to go over my head on this, Callie, and you’ll find yourself on a private jet out of here, tied as well as gagged, before you can take your next breath,” he warned softly.

  She sighed. “I don’t want to go to Dair, Lijah. But I will if I have to. Try to understand.” She looked up at him in appeal as he gave an angry snort. “I can’t allow Richard Stockton to hurt or—or kill any more of the people I care about.”

  Of course Lijah understood that. Just as he knew the reasons for Callie’s determination to meet with Stockton. Revenge. He also knew revenge clouded judgment, and rendered the person feeling it vulnerable to emotions that could get them killed.

  Besides which, the thought of Callie coming face-to-face with a cold-blooded murderer like Richard Stockton made his blood turn to ice in his veins.

  “You ‘appreciate my concern’?” he repeated softly.

  Her gaze avoided meeting his. “Yes.”

  “What the fuck does that even mean, Callie?” He began to pace the kitchen restlessly.

  She looked down at the floor. “It means I understand what last night was about. That for you it was a release for your adrenaline high, but that it was also a way of distracting me from asking too many questions.”

  Callie was giving him the perfect explanation and dismissal for what happened between them last night. Handing it to him on a silver platter, in fact. The same way she had after the first time they had made love.

  Instead of relief, Lijah felt angry this time that she could even think he had made love to her as a distraction. “What did it mean to you?” he challenged.

  She gave a shrug. “The same.”

  Nope, Lijah knew with absolute certainty he had never been this angry before.

  At the same time as Callie had never looked more beautiful to him. Her cheeks were flushed in her defiance, her lips slightly swollen from the passionate kisses the two of them had shared the night before, and her eyes sparkled with that determination that was totally pissing him off.

  “Good to know,” he bit out shortly. “Now perhaps we can get back to what’s really important?”

  The knife twisted painfully in Callie’s chest. But what had she expected, that Lijah was going to fall on his knees professing undying love for her?

  Stupid.

  Almost as stupid as her having woken this morning to the realization she had fallen in love with him.

  Lijah Smith was nothing at all like the man she had once imagined herself falling in love with.

  Having been surrounded by hardened fighting men all her life, Callie had always been drawn to suave and urbane men, uncomp
licated men it was easy to be with. Men like Michael.

  Despite his title and background, Lijah was a renegade disguised as a cowboy, a hard and embittered man, a fighter to his hard core, and no time spent in his company could ever be described as being easy.

  “I had a call from Bill early this morning. He and the ambassador have arranged things with the MPD, and your father’s body is being flown back to England later today. I think you should fly back with him,” Lijah told her softly, and instantly had cause to regret his bluntness as the color drained from Callie’s cheeks. “Callie—”

  “Don’t.” She put up a hand to ward him off as Lijah would have stepped forward to take her in his arms, visibly fighting against her sudden vulnerability. “I’m staying here,” she finally told him flatly. “You are going to release Stockton’s man and send him back to his employer with a message from me. You know this is the right thing, the only thing to do, Lijah,” she insisted as he would have protested again. “The killing has to stop.”

  “And if it only stops when you die?”

  Her chin rose. “Then that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  It wasn’t one Lijah was willing to take. Not when it was Callie’s life they were talking about. “Peter would want me to protect you. At all costs.”

  “That wasn’t fair.” Tears swam in those beautiful blue eyes. “The ‘cost’ has already been Michael’s and my father’s lives. No one else is going to die because of me. No one,” she added vehemently.

  He was going to lose this one, Lijah realized as his fists clenched in frustration.

  Because he knew Callie was right.

  Jonas was right.

  She was the key to getting to Stockton.

  And if it had been anyone but Callie going out there, then Lijah knew he would already have approved the plan.

  He also knew if they persisted in questioning Stockton’s man, then the other man would eventually break. But how many more people would have died in the interim?

  The killing, as Callie said, had to stop.

  He would just have to ensure she didn’t become Stockton’s last victim. Because Lijah would kill the other man, without hesitation, if he harmed a single hair on Callie’s head.

  “I know you aren’t happy about this.” Callie gave Lijah a grimace as he concentrated on adjusting the thin Kevlar vest she was wearing under her T-shirt and jacket.

  They had released the man captured the night before. Then they had sat and waited for several tense hours to see if there would be any response. He had eventually returned late that afternoon with a message of an agreement to meet with Callie at a downtown shopping mall.

  Lijah had been out for several hours himself this morning, offering no explanation when he came back. Not to Callie, at least. But then, he hadn’t spoken more than two words to Callie since their disagreement this morning.

  He had instantly vetoed the idea of the meeting taking place in a shopping mall, however, as being too enclosed and having too many other people in the vicinity who could be injured if shots were fired. He had instead advised the man to call his employer right then and there, and suggest the meeting take place outside the fenced perimeter of the White House instead.

  They had all known Richard Stockton would never agree to that, but it gave Lijah the opportunity to suggest the meeting place he really wanted. Which was the bottom of the steps leading up to the Lincoln Memorial at the west end of the National Mall, in one hour. The shortness of time was so that the other man had no more opportunity than they did to get his shooters in place.

  Lijah and the other men from Grayson Security had already discussed possible meeting points, and the Lincoln Memorial had been the most agreed upon. Plenty of places for them to hide and protect Callie, but still open and busy enough that Richard Stockton might be reluctant to expose himself to being implicated if any shooting took place. Lijah had instructed his men that if so much as a single shot was fired, then Stockton was the first one they took down.

  Lijah looked at Callie now with steely eyes. “What makes you think that?”

  She gave a rueful smile. “Possibly the way you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

  “Nothing to say.” He stepped back, obviously satisfied with his adjustments to the protective vest. “You do realize that if he or one of his men makes a head shot, this vest is going to be no use whatsoever?”

  “Stop trying to frighten me!”

  “Is it working?”

  “Lijah, please don’t be like this…” Callie looked up at him appealingly.

  The ice remained in his gaze, his mouth unsmiling. “What do you want me to say? Tell you I approve of what you’re doing? I don’t.” He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Offer you placating words of reassurance I also don’t feel? Fuck that!” His eyes now burned with the anger he had been suppressing all day. “You’re the one insisting on offering yourself up as a sacrificial lamb, and I’m damned if I’ll say or do anything to make you feel good about it.”

  Callie could feel the rippling vibrations of his anger in the air around them. An anger so strong, it was barely leashed from spilling over into violence. “There’s no other way—”

  “There’s always another way.” He snorted disgustedly. “Hell, now that the arrogant bastard has shown his hand and as good as admitted his involvement, I could hang out on a rooftop down the street from his house for a couple of days and just take him out when he walks from his house to his car. Finished. Over. It would also save the American taxpayers a hell of a lot of time and money.”

  Her eyes widened. “You would assassinate him?”

  “For what he’s done? Hell, yes, I’d gladly shoot and kill the bastard.”

  Callie repressed a shiver at the chilling flatness of Lijah’s tone. The emotionless voice of a man talking of killing another. A reminder that it had been her own father who trained Lijah and all the other men who worked at Grayson Security.

  She wasn’t going into this unarmed herself, had concealed Lijah’s small pistol inside one of her own boots.

  With the intention of using it?

  Earlier today, she had been convinced she could shoot Richard Stockton given the opportunity. But could she really fire the pistol into a human body? She hated Richard Stockton with every fiber of her being for all that he had taken from her, but would she really be able to kill him if the chance arose?

  She was going to find out in just under an hour.

  “At least let’s part as friends, Lijah?” She placed a hand against the tenseness of his jaw.

  “We aren’t friends, Callie.” He stepped away from that touch. “We can never be friends.”

  Callie winced from the pain of hearing him say that. From knowing she really had been just another mission to him. A mission “with benefits,” maybe, but still a mission.

  She turned away. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, because I consider you my friend, and— Oomph.” Her breath left her lungs in a whoosh as Lijah grasped her arm and turned her, and she suddenly found herself crushed in his arms and his lips claiming hers.

  Claiming her.

  Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part?

  Whatever it was, Callie would gladly take it after feeling estranged from him all day.

  Her arms moved up over his shoulders, fingers entwining in the dark thickness of his hair as she kissed him back with all the emotion that had been building inside her for the past ten hours since she woke in his bed and once again found him gone.

  Lijah had promised himself he wouldn’t do this. Had made himself promise that he wouldn’t do this. But when it came right down to it? He might be inwardly furious with Callie, but he couldn’t let her go out there without holding her in his arms once more, kissing her once more.

  He finally managed to end the kiss, arms still about her as he rested his forehead against hers. “That’s why we can never be friends.”

  “I could be your friend with benefits?” she prom
pted with a lightness that was totally belied by the dark anxiety in her eyes.

  “No,” Lijah said flatly.

  She drew in a deep breath. “Okay.”

  He nodded briskly. “We’re going to fit you with an earpiece as well as the wire you have strapped to your back so we can also talk to you, okay? I’ll be watching you all the time through the scope of my rifle, and at the first sign of trouble, I want you to give me an agreed-upon signal and I’m taking Stockton out. This is the way it has to be, Callie,” he added firmly as she gave a shudder of revulsion. “Do you understand?”

  She gave a silent nod. “What sort of sign?”

  “Something that doesn’t look too obvious. Scratching the side of your nose, or pulling on the lobe of your ear, or maybe even tossing your hair back over your shoulder—”

  “But what if I do have a genuine itch on my nose and scratch it by mistake, or I accidentally toss my hair back!”

  “Then Stockton goes down.” He gave an impatient sigh at the dismayed expression on her face. “Whatever the signal is, Callie, once you’ve made it, you take a dive for the ground, you understand? Because once he’s down, his men will have instructions to open fire on you,” he assured grimly.

  Callie gave a shiver. “You’re right, this is very real, isn’t it?”

  “As real as it gets.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “I want to put an end to this once and for all, Lijah.”

  His arms dropped away from her, and he stepped back. “Then let’s hope your own death isn’t part of that end!”

  Callie hoped so too.

  Chapter 17

  “He’s alone and heading in from the left, Callie,” Lijah’s voice spoke softly in the almost invisible earpiece they’d fitted before she made her way down the Mall, where she was now sitting on the steps at the bottom of the Greek-style temple that housed the huge seated marble statue of Abraham Lincoln, America’s sixteenth president.

 

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