The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions Book 2)

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The Sinner's Bargain (Contracts & Deceptions Book 2) Page 7

by Claire Contreras


  “I don’t want to go, but I have to.” He breathed heavily and backed away. They dressed quietly, looking at each other in panic when they heard the elevator chime and Molly’s voice ring out in the lobby. Colin pointed toward his bathroom, and Amara gaped at him in disbelief.

  “You want me to hide?” she whispered loudly.

  “Go!” he whispered back, his eyes leaving no room for argument.

  Her mouth hung open one more second before her feet began to move. She was livid, not able to process what was happening. He wanted to hide her. HER. She opened the door to the bathroom and shut it behind her, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the small mirror. Her face was flushed, eyes bright, make-up kissed off and slipping away. She held on to the sink when she heard Colin’s door open.

  “Hey! Why did you leave?” Molly asked. Amara rolled her eyes at the nasally voice. “I missed you,” she said, her voice sounding a little slurred, though Amara could tell she was trying to be seductive. A mix of rage and anticipation crawled through Amara’s body like electricity, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom and listen to this.

  “I had something to do. How did you get up here?” Colin asked. His tone was clipped.

  “I took Brandon’s elevator key,” Molly said with a giggle. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I don’t like surprises, Molly. Give me the key. Let’s go back downstairs.”

  “Aw, are you mad at me?” she asked in a childlike tone.

  Amara waited, holding her breath as the silence stretched in the other room. Why was it so quiet? What were they doing? Where were their hands? Was his mouth on hers?

  Colin’s words were final when he spoke. “Let’s go.”

  “You don’t want to have some fun in your office?” Molly asked. Amara’s jaw clenched as tightly as her fists.

  “No. Let’s go.”

  “You never wanna have any fun,” Molly whined. Amara rolled her eyes again.

  “Get used to it,” Colin said, his voice barely audible.

  “Are you staying with me tonight?” Molly asked.

  Amara’s heart squeezed. Listening to their conversation was torturous enough without her having to picture their life together.

  Colin mumbled an unintelligible response as the office door slammed, leaving the room empty. Amara waited a couple of minutes to gather her thoughts before stepping out of the bathroom. She couldn’t believe he’d made her hide. She couldn’t believe she’d become the type of woman so many women hated, including herself. What the fuck was she doing?

  AMARA TOSSED AND turned all night Thursday after she left Wolfe and, after her tenth yawn as she padded her way to the bathroom to get ready for work on Friday morning, she decided to call in sick. Heavy bags sat beneath her blood-shot eyes, her hair was a tangled nest and, worse of all, Amara really did feel sick. Lisbeth got a text first, then she shot Brandon an email before calling HR and letting them know she would be missing in action. Colin would be the last to know, and Amara was sure he would think she was just trying to avoid him. That was fine by her, because she was. Sort of. The night replayed in her head continuously. The intensity in which he looked at her and the fervor in the way he touched her. His lips on hers, his breath on her overheated skin, his dick thrusting inside of her...the thoughts alone made her moan.

  Showered and re-dressed in her pajamas, she ate some breakfast and checked her phone for an email from Colin. Amara thought it odd that she found none. Surely he’d been told she wasn’t coming in. Brandon let her know he would take care of the schedule, which gave her a sense of relief. She was sitting in the living room, watching morning shows and nursing a pounding headache when the doorbell rang. Confused, she stood and walked toward it, wondering who’d be on the other side. Through the peephole, she saw Philip with his hands tucked in his pockets, and an impatient look on his face. His hair wasn’t perfectly brushed back the way it normally was, and his blue eyes were focused on the peephole, waiting for her to open the door.

  Amara took her time turning the lock and doorknob, and once she opened the door, she did it slowly and cautiously, her eyes trained on the hands in his pockets. Philip took them out slowly, to show they were empty, and actually turned them front and back for her to see. She let out a small breath and dragged her eyes back to his.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard you weren’t at Wolfe today, so I thought it would be a good time for us to take a trip.”

  Her heart hurtled in her chest. The trip to Iran to see her grandfather. She hadn’t even seen her mother today, hadn’t spoken to her since yesterday. What if something happened to her mother while she was gone? What if something happened to Amara while she was over there? If she didn’t come back, she’d never see Colin again, never hear his voice. Then the last memory she would have would be of him leaving with Molly after he fucked her. She clutched on to the doorknob and leaned against the door, the rapid fire of her thoughts dizzying her.

  “I didn’t realize we were going so soon. The boarding passes you gave me said…” What date did they say? She couldn’t remember, but she would like to think that something this big wouldn’t have slipped past her.

  “We’re not going to Iran. Yet. That’s next week.”

  She swallowed down her trepidation. “Then where are we going?”

  “Washington. We’ll be back tomorrow. My boss wants to meet you.”

  “Your boss?”

  “Yes. My boss, you know, the person I report to. I think that’s a word with international understanding.”

  “So who is it? The president?” Amara asked, rolling her eyes.

  “While I would love to have a chat over tea with the president, he is not my boss.”

  “Oh?”

  He tilted his face to the sky and walked into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. “Pack some things. We leave in an hour and a half,” he said, checking his watch.

  Amara let the door close behind her and walked toward her room. “Why am I meeting this guy anyway?”

  “He probably wants to scare you. I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, reading something on his phone as he sat on the couch.

  She snorted. “You’re kidding, right?” When he shrugged again, she shook her head and walked into the bedroom to pack. There was no way out of the trip—that much she knew—and though the thought was intimidating, she was curious to meet Philip’s boss. “You said we’ll be back tomorrow?” she called out as she sifted through her underwear drawer. It wasn’t terrible, but it meant she couldn’t go visit her mom, and she wouldn’t be there if Colin came over. Amara wasn’t sure how she felt about the second half of her thought, but she knew she had to call her mom and let her know she wouldn’t be showing up today.

  “Yes. You don’t have to pack anything fancy, your regular clothes will do.”

  Bag packed, Amara changed quickly into a pair of plum slacks and a white blouse. She slipped on a pair of flats and tugged her carryon bag into the living room. Philip finally looked up from his phone, gave her a quick once-over and made his way to the door, expecting her to trail behind him. Amara looked around the apartment, her eyes committing it to memory… just in case. In the elevator, Amara kept her eyes averted as Philip typed away on his phone. She checked hers twice more but still hadn’t received a call or email from Colin. She hated to admit her heart was beginning to feel like a deflated balloon.

  “I have to make a phone call,” she said to Philip as they walked toward the black sedan that awaited them.

  “You can make it in the car.”

  Philip sat beside the driver, leaving the backseat to her. It wasn’t a huge car, and she hated that the conversation between herself and her mother would be overheard by Philip, but she didn’t have much of a choice

  “What time did you say the flight was?” Amara asked as she dialed the hospital.

  “Doesn’t matter, we’re not flyi
ng commercial.”

  The nurse picked up the phone as Amara opened her mouth to ask Philip another question. She kept her conversation with her mom short and sweet, not giving her details about where she was going—or who with. There was no point in worrying her when she was so ill. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, Philip only addressing her when they got to a small airport Amara had never realized even existed. She followed Philip inside, pulling her rolling bag as she tried to keep up with his long strides. Philip waved his hands at the pilot holding the door open, signaling him to hurry up. There was no bag check, no metal detector, as they walked through a room that looked like a nice version of a hospital waiting area, complete with one large counter and big leather seats. The woman in the front handed Philip a paper in passing—he didn’t even pause, just blew right by her on his way to the door to the tarmac. Amara, who was hesitant, but not enough to argue, followed.

  She saw the large helicopter sitting in the middle of the runway, before Philip pushed the doors open and the sounds of the loud blades assailed her ears, making her cringe. It was huge, like the army ones she’d seen in movies, except it was matte black, not camouflage. Her hand tightened around the bar of her suitcase and made her way to the helicopter. Amara kept her head down, her long hair swirling wildly against the wind of the chopper, feeling like Dorothy fighting against a Kansas tornado. Once she reached it, the noise was so loud she couldn’t make out Philip’s words, so she took his hand instead and climbed inside, lifting her bag as she did so. Another man took the bag and put it in a compartment, motioning for Amara to pick a seat and buckle up. Once she had her seatbelt on, she looked around wide-eyed, completely enthralled with everything going on. There were buttons and lights everywhere. Three men were dressed in military apparel, all of them in sharp blue suits with gold buttons and a shit load of badges and stars on their shirts that Amara knew meant good things for them. She had no idea if they were army or air force or marines, but knowing they’d probably flown under much worse circumstances made Amara feel more comfortable. Philip took a seat beside her and grabbed two headsets, handing one to her before putting one on himself. She mimicked his movement and let out a relieved breath. She could still hear the helicopter rotors, but they weren’t as loud as they’d been before. When she heard Philip’s French accent clearly in her ear, she wished the blades were what she heard instead.

  “It’ll be a long flight, so try to get comfortable,” he said.

  She turned to look at him, her eyes growing with her response, “How am I supposed to get comfortable?” her look said. She wasn’t sure if he would hear her if she spoke, so she hoped the look was enough for him to understand. Her jaw tightened when his hand brushed against her face as he tapped the button beside her ear that she could press to speak.

  “How long is the flight?” she asked.

  He gave her a small smile. “Shorter than a commercial flight would have been.”

  Amara breathed out, annoyed at his evasive response. “What do you think your boss wants to talk to me about?”

  “I guess we’ll find out together.”

  Her eyes flashed back to his icy blue gaze. “You really don’t know?”

  “They don’t tell me everything.”

  “That makes two of us,” she responded, facing forward again. She rolled her eyes when she heard him chuckle.

  “Have you found anything on Colin?”

  Amara tensed at that. “Why are you so interested in Colin? He’s just a regular guy. He’s not like you; he’s not involved in weird shit that gets people killed.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s always good to have something that somebody wants just in case,” he said with a shrug. Philip reached under his seat and took a green apple out of his bag, offering it to Amara first. She merely shook her head.

  “You mean for blackmail? That’s why you always want to find out information on people. You might as well just say ‘get me information on this person so I can use it as blackmail.’”

  “That’s not really how it works,” he said, taking a bite of the apple. The sound of his chewing was unwelcome in her ear. “I file information, and if later on I need to use it for something, I do. I have what Colin wants most right in front of me, and he knows it. He snuck past me once, but that was only because he had help, and I think Samuel and I have reached a mutual agreement that he fucked up in the matter.”

  She looked at him again, but this time he didn’t meet her eyes, he kept his eyes forward, ignoring her. Amara didn’t notice when the helicopter began to leave the ground and was surprised when the voices in her ears told her they were on their way to the capitol. As she turned away from Philip to look out the window she wondered, if anything happened to her, would it all be over? Would the sultan’s people go after her mother, or was Amara the goal? She wasn’t a prize —wasn’t special—she was just a girl in her early twenties who was trying to do the right thing. Funny, she wasn’t sure what that was anymore.

  “If I hadn’t been stupid enough to take the hit for my dad’s problems, would I still be here?” Her voice was small, the thought escaping her lips before she thought about speaking it.

  “Your dad was only the beginning. You made it easier for us to get to you, but no, Amara, the reason for you being here is not that. We would have had to go after you sooner or later. If they had reached you first, you would be dead.” Amara looked at him, begging him to continue. “They would have used you to get what they wanted, and then they would have killed you.”

  “Isn’t that what they’ll do now, if they find me?”

  Philip’s silence answered her.

  “Yet you’re leading them right to me.”

  “Because we can protect you.”

  Amara looked forward, at the guy sitting across from her. He was really cute, with a stoic I’m-just-doing-my-job-but–look-damn-good-in-this-uniform-while-I’m-doing-it kind of way. His name said Sanders and he had a thing over his shoulder that looked like two downward V’s. Amara wondered what it stood for. Sanders had a similar jaw to Colin’s, except his had no scruff. She missed Colin. She imagined him hijacking the helicopter and taking her away. White knight, crook, backstabber, cheater—whatever he was—she didn’t care. She wanted him. Thoughts of what happened in his office and the way he’d made her hide in the bathroom snuck back into her mind and she began to feel queasy all over again. Colin had walked out with her and left Amara there, in the bathroom. He hadn’t even sent her a text message to apologize. Amara’s fingernails dug into her thighs as her anger escalated. Even through her pants she felt the sting of her grip. Shaking her head and blowing out a breath, she settled on the thought that it was best Colin didn’t jump into the helicopter. She was sure she’d pay GI Joe to kick him back out.

  “What’s in that safe that they want?” Amara asked, going back to the task at hand. She should probably find out everything she could about the situation before she met with Philip’s boss.

  “Probably the money, the gold, the jewelry,” he answered with no hesitation.

  “And you? What do you want?” she faced him again, and this time his eyes were serious when they met hers.

  “The papers. All I need is the papers. I could care less about the rest.”

  “What happens to me once you get your papers?”

  “You go on living your life.”

  “Why can’t you just ask the sultan for the papers? It’s his safe.”

  Philip’s laugh was boisterous, his eyes mocking. He shook his head and looked away still laughing. “Oh, the mind of a child. If only things were that easy.”

  “You know, Courtney isn’t that much older than me,” Amara said, her voice stern. Her statement made Philip laugh again.

  “That’s true, but she’s lived the length of your life three times in experience.”

  “In the bedroom maybe.” She wasn’t sure why she was so bothered by Philip’s attitude. Amara really did consider Courtney a good friend to her, but everything tha
t had happened recently, added to Philip’s demeaning behavior, bothered her more than usual. Her words sobered him up. He stopped laughing and glared at her.

  “Courtney does what she has to do.”

  “Like screw over Samuel and stay under your roof?”

  His jaw tightened. Amara could tell she was pushing his buttons, and she enjoyed it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Samuel isn’t the victim here. None of us are. All of our hands are dirty, including yours.”

  “Mine?” she said letting out a sarcastic laugh.

  “You transported weaponry overseas, didn’t you?”

  Amara gasped. Was he really going to use her trip to New Orleans —the trip he’d sent her on—against her?

  Philip smiled. “I like to keep tabs on what people do, just in case I need to use it later on.

  “For blackmail.”

  “Now you’re understanding. This is why I need you to find out more information on Colin. What is he up to? How are his companies doing?”

  “I will never. Ever. Give you any information on him,” she seethed. “Ever!” The loud slap of her hand on her thigh earned her a look from the guy sitting across from her. Amara wondered if he was listening in on the conversation. She wished he was so that he could report Philip for blackmail, but of course she knew he wouldn’t.

  “Suit yourself.”

  In that moment, she wanted to scream. She thought if she were wearing a parachute, she would actually jump out of the goddamn helicopter. While she withheld the scream, she did grit her teeth and groan loudly in frustration.

  “What do the papers say?” she bit out.

  “None of your business. That’s classified information.”

  “Yet you expect me to hand them over?”

  “I don’t expect you to do anything for me. I expect that you’ll do what keeps you alive and well, what keeps your mother comfortable, and what keeps Colin out of harm’s way.”

 

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