She eyes me quizzically from her seat. “What was that?”
“Nothing, baby. Just a leaflet.”
She stares at me for another moment. Somehow, she’s learning to see beyond my lies. But I’ve been doing this too long. I’m too good at it.
I adopt a carefree grin and lean over to give her a quick kiss. “Really. It’s nothing.”
She returns my smile and shrugs. “Okay.”
I start the truck and pull out into the road, heading the opposite direction of the parked car. As we rumble down the street, I give one last glance in the rearview mirror to the dark vehicle behind us. This time, I see the slightest of movements. Someone is in that car. So I check out the road ahead, and then my eyes return to the mirror. This time when I see movement, the moon shines down, revealing the light color of the person’s hair and shirt. As much as I want to go back and investigate a little more, I won’t put her in danger. Instead, I bring my eyes to the road ahead and hit the gas. We aren’t being followed, but I don’t find any real comfort in that fact.
When we finally pull into the back parking lot of the bar, I shut the truck off before going around to open her door and help her down. When her feet hit the ground, she presses into me and whispers, “I bought something special for you the other day.”
I keep the grin on my face and look down at her. “Yeah?”
She smiles coyly. “Mmhmm. So give me about fifteen minutes and then meet me upstairs, okay?”
I’m momentarily distracted from my other thoughts, my grin becoming real. “How about ten?”
Her laugher echoes in the cool night breeze. “Okay, ten. But ten full minutes, Derek. I mean it.”
This time, I laugh and nod. We walk inside together and I give her a smack on the ass as she heads up the stairs, then cross over the landing to go into my office, shutting the door behind me. Alone, I finally pull the paper out of my pocket and look at it.
THE GENERAL TZO’S chicken from my late dinner threatens to make a reappearance and mock me. It’s been nine days. Nine fucking days since that asshole, Gideon, cracked me across the head with the butt of his gun. I’d trusted that, with my handsome payment for his services, he’d be the fucking minion I’d paid him to be—not turn on me at the most critical moment of the exchange.
Sure, I loved Joss. I still do. She’s practically my niece. But business was business. William didn’t partner up with me long ago because of my fucking heart. He partnered up with me because not only was I smart, I was shrewd. I made deals happen for us. I built our wealth. He stayed deep in the technical shit and I handled the rest.
I was just as tech savvy as my dear “brother,” but I chose to use my other skills to give us a future that even our degrees from MIT couldn’t achieve. Instead of running off to join some Fortune 500 company and make them millions, William and I spent endless hours building something huge from the ground up.
The virus.
We both knew that, one day, it would ensure us an early retirement and we’d live off our wealth until we died. Both of us were on the same page . . . until her.
A chance meeting at a gala in New York brought William and Jossanna together. Their connection was instant and unstoppable. William quit putting in hard hours and began to think of a future with her. Not me.
I was fucking angry and jealous as hell.
When the blond-haired angel turned up pregnant, my world ended. I sat in my office that night with the barrel of a gun sitting between my teeth. Nothing mattered more to me except my best friend and our dream. And she was taking it away from me.
You can still make it happen.
The thought lit an internal fire within me, so I pulled the gun from my mouth. I kept plugging away, making connections with men in high-ranking government positions. They were all interested in this virus that could upset the foundation this country had been built upon—money. The valuable program had the power to bring a country to its fucking knees. Everyone wanted a piece of it.
And then it happened.
Sweet, angelic Jossanna died during childbirth. That night, I popped a bottle of my most expensive champagne and celebrated until I was so fucked up that the prostitute couldn’t get even my dick up. The plan was back in motion. Two partners were reunited.
At first, it was difficult to nurse William’s heart back to health. I put in long hours holding the baby while he wallowed in his tears and drank himself to sleep. He needed to mourn, so I let him. For the first six months of that baby’s life, I played ‘dad’ because her own father wasn’t capable.
Then, one day, he woke up.
Determination filled his eyes and he began throwing himself into the program. He worked tirelessly to develop such an intricate, multilevel, unprecedented program. I helped him a lot with the code and algorithms. But mostly, I helped with Joss. Entertained her so William could focus. Took her for ice cream so William could work out a problem. Read her bedtime stories so William wouldn’t be interrupted.
It paid off, because even though the program took decades to develop, we finally finished it. I’d already had numerous buyers express their interest. The government wanted it for pennies—saying that it was our duty for national security. I had balked at their measly offer and instead negotiated with Yejun Khang. His company, DRP Corp, was a back door of sorts for the North Korean government. They’d offered to pay handsomely for the program—to the tune of seventeen million US dollars.
“I sold the contract to the Department of Defense.”
His words invoked so much rage that day. He’d taken what I’d worked decades to develop and just given it away.
“It isn’t about the money. It’s about our future.”
Bullshit reason. It was about the money. Money was our future. He fucked it all up because he wanted to protect his daughter’s future.
Before the night I had Joss kidnapped, I had Gideon slip into the office and download the beta program. I knew enough about it to explain it to the North Koreans. They were fucking smart anyway and would know exactly what to do.
But then my plan was foiled. I flew twenty-five fucking hours to Kaesong to meet with Yejun and his boys. They looked like kids in a fucking candy store when I handed them the drive. Yejun’s right-hand man, Konu, even poured us each a shot of Yakju to celebrate. We’d barely taken our shots of victory when the password-protected encryption popped up. I typed in our usual password: BRUCEWILLis. Our names formed the beginnings of one of our favorite ’80s big-screen stars. It had never changed during the more than quarter century we’d known each other.
PASSWORD FAILED.
Those words crawled into my soul and killed me. My “brother.” My best friend. He’d betrayed me. He didn’t trust me.
For hours, I tried to come up with every password he might have put on the program. I was furious. The North Koreans were pissed. They brought in one of their best IT men and he set to placing password-cracking programs on the file. William had created something that crashed his every effort. I was fucking mystified.
Yejun and his men were ready to slit my throat, but with smooth talking, I convinced them that I’d get it. His daughter would hold the key to the password. They sent me back and gave me fourteen days. Fourteen fucking days. All I needed was one.
So I’d thought.
William didn’t want to budge. Joss made me feel like the big, bad fucking wolf. And Gideon botched the entire thing.
I had to find her. I wanted to find William and cut out his eyeballs but I knew the fucker too well. He’d die before he told me. Stubborn ass. But with Joss—he wouldn’t be able to watch it. He might have tried to play hardass when I was about to cut off her finger, but I saw the look in his eyes. A few more agonizing screams and he’d have given it to me. Fucking Gideon moved two seconds too soon.
My thoughts are pulled to the present again as my stomach roils. I think I have a fucking ulcer over this shit. Once I’ve dispatched William, Joss, and Gideon and handed over the program to Yejun, I’
m taking a long fucking vacation. Hell, I might marry some island girl and settle down.
I pick up my phone and dial my contact.
“Any news?” I sniff out my question.
His slow response tells me my answer. “Well, not exactly.”
“The IP address points to that bar, Stu. Are you sure Joss isn’t there?” I demand. After reaching for my Tums, I toss a few into my mouth and chomp uncaringly into the phone.
“The owner, Derek Slade, seems hell-bent on protecting her. At first, I was sure this girl was Joss. But now, they walk around like a married couple. You can’t fake that shit. I’m just not sure this girl is the one. She doesn’t answer to Joss and seems pretty content at that bar.”
His words annoy me. I hired his ass because he was supposed to be good at this shit, but evidently, he’s having trouble reading between the lines.
“What about Gideon? Have you seen him at all? Do you think he’s hired this man to protect her?” I just won’t give up on my hunch.
“Negative, boss. We just need a little more time and—”
“We don’t have any more time, Stu,” I snarl. “Yejun is on my ass. He told me yesterday they weren’t waiting around any longer. I told them I thought she was at this bar. If they find her first, I’ll be out. You won’t make your five hundred grand and I won’t get my fortune. Find the girl. Get her to me. Kill the asshole too. If I had more time, I’d take joy in cutting his skin off for fucking this shit up. Lucky for him, I’m all out of time.”
When I hang up on him and pull up the e-mails, the newest one grabs my attention. They’ve attempted to code the messages, but I’m not fucking stupid.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Are you taking care of my puppy, sweetie pie? I’m not sure how much longer this vacation will last, but Mom and Dad are searching for a flight home.
I know that Joss is the puppy and that the CIA is searching for me. Fucking idiots.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
The puppy is fine. I think the pound tried to capture our puppy. I may need to move the puppy to a kennel in another state, my sweet girlfriend.
The note was too much. At least this will drive them out. If they move, I’ll know it’s them. After grabbing my stress ball, I squeeze it a few times. Maybe I’ll go take a drive down to this bar and do the dirty work myself. If I see those bright-blue eyes at that bar, I’ll put a bullet right through Stu’s skull for taking so fucking long. I need to get there before Yejun.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Dad says they have safe homes for puppies in D.C. A bit of a drive but worth the added protection. Keep my puppy safe, honey.
I scoff at their e-mails. So fucking stupid. Time to go gather some acorns.
THE RAGGED PAPER no longer crinkles as I crush the note in my hand. I’ve looked at it over and over, and every time, I feel the same rush of rage. I know it in my gut that whoever was in that car was watching for a reaction to the note. At least J didn’t see it first. She’s learned to hide, but I don’t think she would have been able to keep calm. Hell, I’m barely staying calm.
My first action was to contact William. I needed to let him know that things could be heating up here and I might need to take off with Joss. I read through the last communication.
D.C.
He wants me to take her underground.
I unlock the top drawer of my desk and pull out a small, brown leather pouch and set it on the desk. Then I take out my SIG Sauer and remove it from its holster. I run my fingers over the carving in the wood grips, tracing the pattern of the words. On one side, the word ‘warrior’ is carved, and on the other is the word ‘destroyer.’
“Here, boy. Take this.”
I reach out and take hold of the gun. This isn’t his gun. Apparently, he feel it’s time I have my own. The metal is cool, but I swear it’s searing my skin. Then I look up at my uncle, who’s sitting regally in his desk chair, careful to keep all expression from my face. It’s always better if I let him speak his mind rather than ask questions.
So I wait.
“See the engraving?”
I nod and run my fingers over the glossy, carved wood.
“That’s so you remember who you should be. What you will be.”
He runs a thick hand through his shoulder-length, inky-black hair, almost dislodging the tie holding it back from his face. His nearly black eyes bore into me as he watches for a reaction. As I’ve gotten older, I have gained the physical advantage over my uncle in height and muscle. But that doesn’t make him any less intimidating. I don’t cower before him—however, that doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless of him.
So, I wait.
Seemingly satisfied, he nods. Then he points to the weapon again. “You’ve got your first solo assignment. We are getting paid good money for this job, so don’t fuck it up.”
I stroke the carving again before trading the gun for the leather pouch and pulling the drawstrings before upending it. A small, silver medallion on a chain falls into my palm and I run my thumb over the picture embossed on the front of the medal.
“You’ve done good, son.” His rough voice rings with pride. “You’re everything I could’ve asked for if I had a son of my own. He motions to the gun tucked into my shoulder holster. In just the few years since I gave you that, you’ve already started making a name for yourself in the business.”
He reaches onto the table beside his hospital bed, lifts a little pouch, and hands it to me. I open it and see a saint medallion.
“That’s so you remember who you are. What you are.”
The saint depicted is celebrated for being everything I am, but it’s in righteousness and honor. The irony is not lost on me.
I stare at the man who used to be so threatening. He looks pale and haggard. The years of drugs, booze, and cigarettes have finally caught up with him and now he’s wasting away from cancer. He is no longer intimidating; he is small and weak. I have no emotions towards him as I watch him rasp out his last words to me. He taught me well. I am a destroyer, a warrior. I exist. I survive.
I don’t live.
I clench the medal in my fist. At twenty, I saw no other course but to follow the path laid out in front of me. At thirty, I got out because I wanted to live, not just exist.
I think about Cupcake and how she makes me finally feel alive. What will going on the run do to her? I’m afraid it will break her again. But in the end it doesn’t matter because I’ll do whatever is takes to protect her.
I drop the medallion back into the pouch and shove it in the desk before locking the drawer once again. Grabbing the gun, I check to make sure it’s loaded and slide it back into the holster. I don’t want her to pick up the scent of danger, so I shove it behind me in the waistband of my jeans, then shut everything down and lock up the office. I do a quick run through of the locks on all the doors and windows around the bar, then set the alarm.
Running up the stairs, I glance at my watch and realize that it’s been almost twenty minutes. Damn, I was supposed to be upstairs in ten. My bedroom door is ajar, so I slowly push it open. Upon finding the room empty, I look around in confusion. However, a small knot in my stomach unfurls in relief when I’m able to slip the gun from my pants and into the nightstand drawer.
The sheets on the bed are a twisted mess, and I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of vanilla that permeates them. When I spot the small indentation in the pillow from where her head lay last night, I think back to the nights when I used to wake to her screaming. She hasn’t had a nightmare since she started sleeping with me. She feels safe with me. She is safe with me.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to see her, to know she’s safe, to make sure she knows it too. I’m anxious to brand it in her mind—and on her body—who she belongs to.
When I feel as though I can’t wait any longer, I tu
rn from the bed to leave the room and am almost brought to my knees by the vision standing in my doorway. She let her long, mahogany hair bounce with its natural curl as it flows around her shoulders and down her back. A black bra with white lace on it that holds up her luscious breasts until they are practically spilling out. My gaze moves down from her chest to her flat stomach, where the little rhinestone jewel winks at me, to the lacy, white garter belt encircling her hips and matching panties that peek out from underneath it. The garters hold up silky, white, thigh-high stockings that show off her never-ending legs.
My slow perusal of her body ends at her feet, where she is wearing sky-high silver heels. There’s a strap around her slim ankle, and a single strand of rhinestones crosses over her delicate toes. My cock is hard as stone, about to burst through my zipper.
She is fucking gorgeous. And she’s mine.
She lets me look my fill, and when my eyes return to hers, she smiles seductively before slowly walking towards me, her hips swaying.
“Like what you see?”
My voice doesn’t work at the moment, so I just let out a love sound of approval. Once she’s gotten close enough, I don’t give her time to play games. I reach out, grasping her waist, and slam her body up against mine. She licks her lips and I growl again, crashing my mouth down onto hers.
My kiss is hard, almost punishing in its intensity. We won’t be making love tonight. I’m too desperate for her. Tonight, I’m going to fuck her—hard. I’m going to bury my cock in her over and over until we both know she is completely mine. I can feel the same need in her through her frantic kisses.
“As much as I love this outfit, baby, it has to go.” I turn her and push back lightly so she tumbles down onto the bed, and then I follow until I’m covering her body.
The bra is a front clasp. Thank fuck. A twitch of my fingers has her breasts spill out into my waiting hands. I lick each pink nipple once and when I hear her sweet little whimper, I squeeze her tits and rock into her, letting her feel how much I want her. I lower my head and pull one hardened nipple into my mouth. I lick around it then give it a little nip before soothing it with my tongue. My hand on her other tit pinches and twists the nipple, then her back arches off the bed, she lets out a delicious moan. Her sounds are like air to me, and I breathe them in. I open my mouth wide and take in as much of her as I can fit, sucking hard and deep. Once her breast is marked as mine, I switch to the other and give it the same treatment.
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