Scars: A Killers Novel, Book 5

by Brynne Asher

  “What are you doing?”

  His hand hits my hip and pulls my body to his. “Give me your weight.”

  “I said I was good.”

  “And I know you sleep better on your side but that’s got to hurt like a motherfucker right now. This will help.”

  His warmth seeps into me and I tell him the least of my worries. “I’ll get hot.”

  He flips the covers off both of us and his scruff pulls at my hair. I’m not sure he’s shaved since I’ve been in the States. “There. Now, be quiet and go back to sleep. Unlike you, I’ve gotten used to six hours in a row. Don’t make me irritable tomorrow.”

  Cole’s hand is locked on my hip, holding me to him where we’ve become one in his bed.

  He runs his hand down the outside of my thigh and isn’t gentle when he gives me another squeeze. “Not trying to fuck you, sweetness. Just trying to get some sleep. Relax.”

  I sigh but do it rolling my eyes. He knows how I feel about him demanding me to relax.

  But allowing some of my tension to dissolve into him does feel a bit better.

  “See?” he gloats as our bodies meld. “You’ll be begging me to fuck you soon enough.”

  I pull my pillow into my chest because being cocooned is the first thing that’s taken the edge off in days. Being able to rest on my side while feeling weightless might be orgasmic in and of itself. “Don’t be so full of yourself. And you’d better go to sleep. The elderly need their rest.”

  A rumble from his chest vibrates through me and he shakes his head. “It’s what drew you to me. Practically had to beat you off with a stick.”

  I close my eyes. “I see dementia is setting in.”

  “I agree.” He pushes in tighter, demanding not only my weight, but everything else I don’t want to think about at the moment. His cock, that I will only admit to myself how much I miss, has sprung to life proving his virility and youth. “I’ve got to be crazy to be taking you on.”

  Finally.

  Something we agree on.

  “I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

  My eyes fly open.

  He keeps talking. “You’ll be fine. Told Red to be on his best behavior and I’ll make sure he feeds you a decent meal.”

  “I don’t need your father to cook for me. I can keep well enough on my own.”

  He rubs a hand down my thigh. “I know he doesn’t need to but he’s going to—not for you but for me. Give him some time and everything he’ll do will be for you. He’s got an odd way of showing it, but he’s got the biggest heart of anyone you’ll meet.”

  Cole doesn’t know my mum and dad well, so I doubt it.

  And I plan to be gone before I get the chance to know anyone’s heart.

  It’s my turn to boss him. “Go to sleep, Cole. I doubt the chaps at Langley will be pleased if you nap on the job tomorrow because you’re too busy harboring an AWOL MI6. Americans are weird like that.”

  “I think it’s safe to say it’s not just Americans.”

  No truer words have been spoken in the dead of the night.

  “You’re giving me a case of blue balls. If you don’t shut your sweet mouth and go to sleep, I might have to get up and take care of myself.”

  That brings back memories I do not need to think about right now.

  Or ever.

  His voice dips. “You remember.”

  I’ll never forget—not until I expel my last breath. “Vaguely.”

  “You remember,” he repeats and his lips brush my ear through my tousled hair. “It was unforgettable. I had to do it to take the edge off. If I didn’t, there was no way I could make your first encounter what it was.”

  I hug my pillow tighter.

  He won’t stop. “Pretty sure your words at the time were fucking brilliant.”

  “I take back what I said,” I snap. “You won’t lose your arsehole card anytime soon.”

  “You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

  “I’ll never sleep if you keep droning on about yourself.”

  “I’m only droning on about you,” he argues. “But you’re right. Go to sleep.”

  “For the love of all that’s holy, stop talking.”

  His cock grinds into my ass. “You stop talking.”

  I let my lids fall and try to pretend I’m not where I am and tomorrow will be different than reality will offer up. As much as I need a mental break from the man who’s literally supporting my weight right now, I’m not looking forward to a day alone with Abbott and Red Carson.

  Either the pain pill I took over an hour ago finally kicks in or it’s the six-foot-four beast of a man I just can’t shake.

  When I finally give in to exhaustion, it proves to be the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time.

  Chapter 8

  Tou-fuckin’-ché

  Cole

  “Ya sure ya want to be nosin’ around there again?”

  I fall back into my chair, tired from being up half the night and dragging my ass out of bed two hours before dawn for the first time in over a week. “Trying another angle. I need to find her brothers and you’re the only one who can help me.”

  “I haven’t seen Donnelly in over a year, mate. Ya need to drop it. She knows her arse will burn at the proverbial stake if she surfaces. Her beauty of a mug is on everyone’s shit list north of the Mediterranean.”

  “I know,” I grit. “I’m not trying to find her this time—but I do need to find Archer or Devon.”

  “Those fellas aren’t gonna tell ya where she’s hidin’. I’ve seen the suits drag every single living Donnelly into Vauxhall—even her sweet mum. I’m sure they know where she is but not a one of ‘em is gonna give her up. Not even to ya—maybe especially to ya. It’s time to mend your wounds and find yourself a nice little American chickee. Maybe one who likes to drink out of those red plastic cups while sportin’ cut-off jeans that go up to her arse cheeks, showing off legs that stretch as far as the horizon in a pair of cowgirl boots.”

  “Fuck me. You and your obsession with country music,” I mutter. If he only knew where Bella really was. He’s nosy and always has been, but right now, I need him to test those skills for me. He’s my only contact in all of Great Britain I trust right now. He owes me his life. I saved his ass over a decade ago when we were both greener than two guppies lost in a puddle of rainwater. “Look, Oliver. I appreciate your concern—”

  “Or maybe a cheerleader. Ya should move to Texas, they’ve got good ones down there from what I’ve seen watchin’ your American football.”

  “Oliver—”

  “Or that beauty with the knockers like puffy little pillows who cooks on the satellite. She’s Italian but she’s also American. The two of yas would make a handsome couple. What’s her name…”

  “Dammit, Oliver—”

  “Giada!”

  “Oliver!”

  “I’m just sayin’, you’re a strappin’ lad. Ya need to pull your head out of your arse and check yourself back into the game, as they say. Dive in head first. Put your dry spell out of its ever-loving misery. Dip your willie between some pompoms—I betcha cheerleaders like that.”

  I close my eyes and rub my temples, not believing it’s come to this—me relying on him. It doesn’t say a lot about my options when he’s my best bet. “Are you done?”

  “Look, my favorite American. I’m gonna tell it to ya as plain as I can make it. I feel comfortable enough in my manhood when I say, I love ya—”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “—and you deserve more than a fine-feelin’ woman.”

  “Again with the country songs.”

  “You, my American counterpart, deserve a chickadee who isn’t on the run. Ya know what else?”

  I give up. “No, Ollie. But I bet you’re going to tell me.”

  “That Donnelly woman fed your need for adventure. She might as well have needled herself straight into your veins and pumped ya full of adrenaline. She gave ya a high and now you’re
jonesin’ for it. It’s why you won’t settle down for a spicy little cook or a perky cheerleader.”

  He is not wrong. “Thank you, Dr. Phil. That was enlightening.”

  “Who’s Dr. Phil?”

  “Look him up. You’ll become obsessed.”

  I hear him pecking away at a keyboard. “Lookin’ now.”

  “Call me when you have a line on one of the Donnelly brothers. Either is fine, but I need to talk to one of them and it needs to be discreet and off the record.”

  “Everything you do is off the record.”

  “Right back at you, Ollie.”

  A deep laugh booms over the pond and about blows my eardrum out. “Touché, my beautiful American man. Tou-fuckin’-ché.”

  “Make it happen, Oliver. I don’t have time to be dicking around with this.”

  “Well, kiss my arse. Now I have a pudgie at the thought of you dicking around.”

  “You’ve got forty-eight hours, tops. I’d prefer to hear from you tomorrow,” I demand.

  “Don’t make it a full-on woody by goin’ all alpha male on me, Carson. I’m at my desk.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I hear a smile. “I love ya, mate.”

  And I hang up.

  Oliver Abram might be odd but he’s always come through for me. I know it’ll be the same this time. He might look like he’s continually fucking around, but in a weird way, it makes him stealth in what he does. No one takes him seriously but they should—he’s a sneaky fuck.

  I can’t take a chance on contacting Bella’s parents. I know for a fact their lines are tapped and the Brits are watching them like hawks. I’d bet everything I own that Thorne Donnelly knows this too. He was MI6 himself and one of the best who’s ever strode through the doors of Vauxhall. He retired before everything went to hell with Bella. From what I heard, Annie is heartbroken for her daughter, and Thorne, who was once as loyal as a golden retriever to his country and agency, is done with both. He saw what the rest of us saw—shoddy investigating, finger pointing, and a shit show fit for crap TV.

  I’m about to press send on an email to my boss with my report on Raji when my burner phone rings. It’s an unknown number.

  I pick it up on the second ring. “Carson.”

  “Boss. I only have a short time.”

  Speak of the asset of the hour. He’s out of breath and on the move, causing me to step back from the send button and brace. “Raji. What’s wrong?”

  Raji and I go back seven or eight years. Before Abbott, before Bella, and before I had to give up a career as an operative. There’s a grapevine in that part of the world and he’s so entangled, I’m sure his head spins from having to watch his back from every angle. I’ve kept in touch with him and pad his bank account nicely for information he feeds me.

  “Your target’s first-hand man is on the move. And I don’t mean in the back of a shitty SUV. I followed his small caravan to an airstrip.” His words are labored and I hear his boots grinding into the sand at a flat-out run. “He boarded a plane—small, prop engine.”

  I reach up and hit the delete key on the email I was about to send because I have a feeling everything has changed. “You get a tail number? Where’s he going?”

  “No tail number and I don’t know. It’s pitch dark here in the early morning hours. I’ve got a friend who works at the main airport. I’ll pick his brain tomorrow. Until then, I know nothing.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “You didn’t know he was taking a trip?”

  We suspected a small up-and-coming terrorist cell was behind an attack on a commuter train last month in Germany. I’ve had Raji on them ever since and it hasn’t been an easy go. Especially for the whole damn week when he didn’t check in with me.

  His car door slams and an engine sputters to life. “No. I followed the convoy as far as I could before moving in on foot. I saw him board the plane with two lower-level soldiers. They were carrying small bags but that’s it.”

  “I want to know where they’re going. In a plane that size, it can’t go far without refueling. Names, Raji. I need names.”

  “Don’t treat me like a fool, Carson. I know what you need.”

  “Listen.” I lean forward and lower my voice. “My boss is up in my ass about you. I know you’re doing your best and you know I’ll cover for you because you’re good. I was working from home last week and somehow he found out you weren’t answering my calls.”

  “I explained. You think I’m gonna call you if it isn’t safe?”

  “That’s what I told him. He sees you as a piece of his budget—and a big one. I’m the one justifying your paycheck. Keep feeding me information, Raji. You about gave me a heart attack last week—thought our whiskey-drinking days were over.”

  His old engine revs to match the laugh I’m more than familiar with. “You know I’m always up for whiskey. Make it Irish, even better.”

  “You give me a name, tell me where this guy turns up, and what the hell he’s doing there, I’ll send you a case and find a way for Uncle Sam to foot the bill.”

  “Deal.”

  “Don’t lose your head.”

  “Don’t worry. I like my head where it sits.”

  The line goes dead.

  I open the document I spent the last hour drafting. I need to get this shit done so I can get home and make sure Red was on his best behavior during his first day alone with Bella.

  Bella

  “Cole has been fine, all on his own.”

  I nod to the woods in front of me and pick up my glass of water. I’m grateful my strength isn’t up to par or I might crush it with rage-filled adrenaline alone.

  “He’s got Abbott and he’s got me to help with Abbott. From what I can tell, he should be up for a promotion soon.”

  After taking a sip of my too warm water, I don’t look at him when I finally respond, “I have no doubt Cole is flourishing in his life here, Red.”

  I escaped the cool house over an hour ago to move my body. I was a pile of rubbish after only fifteen minutes—flat-out exhausted. Escaping my current state of hell isn’t going to be on the docket anytime soon if I can’t do more than hobble through the woods like a maimed animal.

  I’m used to the heat and humidity so sitting outside in the summer is nothing. At least it wasn’t until Red decided to join me. He planted his arse on the opposite side of the front stoop from yours truly. Ever since, Cole’s father has been informing me of all the ways his beloved son is handling life on his own—meaning, without me.

  “Flourishing? Nope, that’s what my tomato plants are doin’. Cole is fuckin’ killing it.”

  For the first time since he joined me, I look over at him and force myself to smile. “I’ve no doubt.”

  The phone Cole gave me yesterday vibrates where it’s sitting on my thigh.

  Cole – How’re you doing, sweetness?

  No sooner than I put my fingers to the screen, Red demands, “Who’s that? Cole told me to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m sure he did,” I mutter.

  Me – Fine.

  Cole – Why do you not sound fine?

  Me – No, really. I’m good. I managed some exercise. I’m up to a 5k.

  Cole – The fuck you are. You couldn’t even sleep on your side last night without me.

  Like I need to be reminded.

  “You still working over there on the other side of the world?”

  I look at Red. “Yes. It’s harder not actually being there, but I’m trying to keep up.”

  Cole – I hope my dad isn’t giving you hell.

  “Good. The sooner you get back there, we’ll all get back to normal. Abbott wants her daddy to herself. Cole’s job is stressful enough—he doesn’t need you here addin’ to it.”

  “It was never my intention to intrude in your lives. I plan to leave as soon as I possibly can.”

  Me – Red has been lovely. He fixed me one of your all-American hot dogs for lunch. A Carson specialty, for sur
e.

  It’s the truth. I heard a bang on Cole’s bedroom door where I was hiding out when he announced it was tea time. When I opened the door, a plate was sitting on the floor waiting for me with a naked hot dog lying limp on a piece of bread.

  Cole – Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll make you something before I go to work tomorrow.

  Me – I don’t need anyone to wait on me. I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself.

  “Grandpa?”

  I look up from my phone and Abbott is standing in the open doorway. I’ve heard every move she’s made through the paper-thin walls today but this is the first I’ve seen of her since Cole went back to work this morning. I’ve been doing my best to not be seen myself. Her long, dark hair is flowing down her back in beautiful curls. It doesn’t look like it’s been brushed but that’s okay. Red doesn’t seem like the hair-brushing kind of caretaker.

  My phone vibrates again.

  Cole – Maybe, but I want you to rest. Preferably on me, like last night. You needing me is a new development and I don’t hate it.

  I cringe as his words seep through my brain because I think I’ve needed Cole Carson since the moment he laid a hand on me when we went undercover the first time.

  Red’s entire demeanor flips its switch from an angry, defensive father to that of a loving grandfather. “Yeah, darlin’?”

  “I’m done reading.”

  My smile settles into something from my soul and for the first time I try to make conversation with Cole’s child. “What are you reading?”

  She fidgets around on bare feet and mumbles, “Secret Garden.”

  My eyes widen. “Impressive for a girl your age. It was a favorite of mine but I wasn’t quite as young as you when I read it for the first time.”

  Abbott looks at the rug she’s standing on and shrugs.

  “My grandbaby is as smart as a whip. She’s gonna leave the rest of the first graders in the dust this fall at her new school, aren’t you, Abbs?” Red stands and moves to his granddaughter. “Your daddy said you could have the iPad after you read.”

  The child has no desire to continue our conversation and turns to skip away from me as fast as her little legs will take her.