Rush: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family)

by Robin Covington

  Popping the earbud out for the second time, she leaned against the cool wood of the door and listened for movement in the hallway. Running through the layout in her mind, she recalled a large center hallway, a center staircase dissecting the first floor with formal rooms to the left and right. She’d glimpsed a kitchen straight ahead in the back, past the office, with a known exit through the sunroom or the front door.

  Male voices were loud in the entranceway, growing louder as they approached the door she was currently hugging.

  “Bugger.” Olivia turned, looking around the room for possible hiding places. Everything was open and too small to hide a grown woman. Except the couch. Maybe she could bend down behind it? “I can’t believe I have to roll around on the floor in $400 Dolce shorts.”

  It was better than being caught red-handed, and she’d send the dry cleaning bill to Atticus, so she launched herself across the room and flung herself behind the back of the sofa just as the door opened. Olivia curled up as tightly as she could with a hard drive stuck to her chest and held her breath.

  Hickman entered the room, his security guard trailing behind him. He tossed his tuxedo jacket on the chair next to the couch, walked to his desk and sat down behind the computer. Biting back the “oh fuck” that almost erupted from between her lips, she hunched even lower, praying for the power of invisibility. Hickman was rattling on about hating to leave the dinner early, but she didn’t care what he was saying, unless he began emoting about his intention to leave this office and let her get the hell out.

  A woman dressed in a scrub top, polyester pants, and sensible shoes appeared at the door. “Senator Hickman, your wife is awake and asking for you.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he answered, rising from his chair and heading for the door. “Stewart, please let me know the status once you make your rounds.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll check in with Alex on the grounds and give you a full report. We have two extra men on duty tonight and in the future until Miss Hickman is returned and the threat is eliminated.”

  They both left the room, the senator heading up the stairs and the very capable Stewart making a right and moving toward the kitchen. Olivia scrambled as quickly as she could in three-inch heels and soft-shoed toward the door. A stop at the door, just long enough to glance left, right, and up the stairs, and she bolted across the black and white marble of the of the entryway, flipped the locks on the large, black door, and opened it.

  The twilight had turned into night and she slowed her roll as she stepped out onto the large, marble step. Acting as if she had every right to be there, Olivia closed the door behind her and casually made her way to the sidewalk and then across the street to where the dark SUV was waiting. The front passenger door opened just as she reached out to open her own and Atticus leapt out and grabbed her by the shoulders.

  His fingers bit into the flesh there but it was the fear that edged his voice that made her wince. Everything about him was raw and exposed, from the wild look in his dark eyes to the hard set of his jaw and the slight tremble in his fingers.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” he asked, his gaze daring her to be anything but honest.

  “I was doing my job, Atticus. The one you brought me here to accomplish.” She reached out the hand that wasn’t holding the hard drive and touched his cheek, watching as he shut his eyes and leaned toward her. Their foreheads touched and he rocked against her, a low growl of frustration rumbling in the space between them. “You’ve got to stop treating me like fine china.”

  “But you’re so fucking breakable,” he said, leaning in to press a hard kiss to her mouth. It was brief, just a clash of teeth and tangle of tongues. Enough to leave them both panting when it was over. “You’re going to kill me, Livvy. So help me God, you will.”

  Atticus opened her door and half shoved, half assisted her into the backseat. The door slammed behind her and she watched silently as he hauled his large body into the passenger seat and took his obvious frustrations out on his door. For her part, she concentrated on putting her tools back in her bag and thinking about anything but how that kiss ignited a hunger in her belly that threatened to claw its way out.

  The fact that there was an answering need emanating from Atticus toward her was only a small comfort. Nobody wanted to be in this place alone, especially when she was completely on her own in anything beyond the physical.

  She refused to acknowledge the twist and throb a little higher and just under her rib cage. Olivia knew that her emotional and physical reactions to Atticus were so intertwined that it was impossible to separate them, but she’d never let him know. Things had begun with them as a strictly sexual thing and she could keep it on that level if that’s what it took to make it through this job. He didn’t feel the same way about her and she’d come to terms with that long ago.

  “Did you just walk out the front door? Just like you belonged there?” Brant asked her as he turned around, his tone incredulous. When she grinned, he laughed. “You’ve got balls, Lady Olivia.”

  Atticus sighed heavily. “Don’t fucking encourage her.”

  She clicked on her seatbelt, calming her heart rate as they pulled away from the curb and headed to Atticus’s house. She couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction at completing her task. There was no denying how much she loved it.

  “Sometimes the most obvious choice is the right one.”

  Chapter Five

  “Come on, Rush, admit it. You’re Batman.”

  Elena teased him from the table in the large, upstairs loft space he used as his DC base. From the outside it looked practically abandoned, with graffiti and bars over the windows. It didn’t encourage Girl Scouts selling cookies or anyone else with any sense. He owned the entire building, situated in a so-so area of the district, and used the downstairs open space to keep a motorcycle, a truck, and his own gym. A large, open patio extended out from the second floor living area with a view of the Capital and the Washington Monument in the distance. This was a pretty town if you ignored all the dirt and sleaze.

  He missed his cabin in Montana and his dogs.

  “I’m not Batman. He’s a sociopath. I’m just a dick,” he answered, taking a bite of pizza and a swig from his beer. He’d only allow himself one since he had no idea when he’d have to suit up and go get Katrina, but he needed something to calm him down after that stunt Livvy had pulled at Hickman’s house.

  He’d sat mute in the truck, the feeling of helplessness making him grind his teeth together with his effort not to throw back his head and howl. It had been his nightmare scenario: Livvy in danger and him powerless to stop it or protect her. It was the fact that she willingly sought out the risk that made him nuts. When he’d discovered who she was and what she did it was fear that had made him lash out and threaten to turn her in. Absolute. Fucking. Terror.

  And by the time he’d gotten a grip on what he felt, she was gone and it was too late to change anything between them.

  She sat on one of the long, leather sofas right now—furniture she’d chosen when they were married—eating and laughing with Brant and completely at ease. He watched her until her gaze clashed with his own and there was no mistaking the flare of heat in her eyes. Livvy’s cheeks flushed with her reaction to him and he wanted to take her into his room and fuck her on his king-sized bed until she screamed his name and the cops showed up because the neighbors called it in.

  Then, when they’d left he’d take her again. Slow and sweet, coaxing her pleasure out of her until she melted against him and begged for more in the quiet, breathy way he loved.

  Breakable. Precious. The most gorgeous thing he’d ever been able to call his own and she risked her life as if it meant nothing. It still made him nuts.

  Elena interrupted his thoughts as she continued to clack away at her computer, which was hooked up to the stolen hard drive. “Whatever. I dig your Batcave and its crazy fast WiFi connection.” She hit a couple more keys and raised her fists in triumph. “Especially
when I get these results.”

  Everyone in the room scrambled to get in close to hear what she’d found. They’d heard nada from the kidnappers for the past couple of hours and it was making him twitchy to sit around and do nothing. He wasn’t built that way.

  “I was able to hack into Hickman’s financials and e-mails from what I pulled from the hard drive.” She smiled at Olivia and winked her thank you. Livvy nodded her head in acknowledgement. “He’s definitely dealing with a lot of assholes, but one in particular dumped a lot of money into an offshore account for Hickman right before e-mails started flying back and forth in a fast, furious, and then increasingly hostile manner.”

  “Let me guess. Hickman took the money and failed to deliver.” Rush made the not-so-hard leap of logic.

  Elena waved a hand at the pizza boxes on the island. “Hand that man another slice of pepperoni.”

  “Just give me the name of the animal who took Katrina and keep the damn pizza,” Rush ground out, his fingers digging into the back of the chair in front of him. “Seriously, I’m all out of patience right now.”

  “Umbuerto Figueroa,” Elena answered as silence fell around the table. “The Butcher of Buenaventura.”

  “Jesus,” Rush said on an exhale and it was a prayer. The best he could do for a little girl with big freckles and a talent for drawing pictures of dogs of every breed. He still had those drawings, every single one, with a couple framed and hanging in the cabin. Katrina had been his only constant pen pal when he was deployed, except for Livvy, and she would always be special to him.

  His stomach twisted up so tightly that he gasped and grabbed his side. He was afraid he would be sick at the thought of what that evil motherfucker would do to Katrina if he didn’t get his way.

  “Drugs, prostitutes, children, organs, art…you name it and he exploits it for his own gain,” Rush murmured. “He kidnaps and murders, has his own militia. Hickman is in way over his head and his daughter is in the hands of a man who doesn’t care who he hurts.”

  The slide of a warm, soft hand into his own brought him up short and he turned his head to find Livvy there beside him. She didn’t touch him anywhere else but he felt it down in his marrow. Her gray eyes were clear with her trust in him, her conviction that he had this. It didn’t make his anger and rage go away but it helped him to focus, helped him to see beyond his desire to run off half-cocked with no set plan.

  “He wouldn’t take her out of the country, would he?” Brant said, thinking out loud. He shook his head. “No. Not yet. He’d have her nearby until he gave his demands to Hickman.”

  “She’ll be with his local hands and feet. He’s not going to be anywhere near this just in case it goes badly. Plausible deniability is his Teflon coating. Nothing sticks to him,” Rush added, dipping his head and thinking hard about his knowledge of Figueroa’s known contacts. It would be someone local. Not a thug or a street kid but someone well connected who had no problem dipping his whole foot into something disgusting. His head snapped up and he locked eyes with Elena. “Does Hickman have any contact with a guy named Paulo Guzzi?”

  Elena dropped her focus back to the screen, her fingers flying over the keys as she searched for the information. Rush knew the answer before she said it because her expression morphed into one of predatory glee.

  “Yes. All the time.”

  “So, we just have to find and gently persuade this Guzzi guy to cough up the whereabouts of Katrina,” Brant said, his grin almost feral. “Elena, start a search and figure out where we can find him.”

  Rush’s eyes snapped to Livvy as understanding passed between them. A smile tugged at her lips and a devilish light danced in her eyes before she turned to the people gathered around the table.

  “I know how to get him to come to us,” she said at the same time he started shaking his head.

  “No. This is where you get off this crazy train, Livvy.”

  She ignored him, taking her phone out of her pocket and scrolling through her contacts. “Atticus Rush, you couldn’t boss me around when we were married, I don’t know why you think you can now. I’m calling Carla and getting the ball rolling, so just calm your ass down.” He opened his mouth to protest when she smiled and began speaking with the woman who’d answered the call. “Carla, it’s Olivia. I’m in town and I need a bit of a favor.” She smiled and laughed, her eyes sliding to the right and twinkling just a little. “You name the Prada bag and Atticus will get it for you.”

  He watched her, straining to hear the other side of the conversation but unable to pick up anything but the briefest pieces of it. He was very aware of the curious looks he was getting from the rest of the team but ignored them. He didn’t know them well and they’d obviously known very little about his marriage and nothing about the woman who’d taken his name. He was a private man so he was sure they were eating up any crumb, and he had the uneasy feeling that they’d know even more before this mission was done.

  “I’m helping Atticus and his friends find a kidnapped girl and we really need to talk to Paulo Guzzi, so I was wondering if he’s at Club D tonight. Sure, I can wait until you check.” Time clicked by in anxious silence but Carla was quick because within seconds Livvy’s mouth broke into a huge grin. “Can you make sure he knows I’ll be there tonight? Don’t mention anything about Atticus. Call me back and let me know. Thanks.”

  She ended the call and looked around triumphantly. Atticus wanted to throttle her.

  “What is Club D and why would Paulo want to know you are there?” Brant asked, his expression confused.

  “It’s a private club and he’s always been interested in me,” Livvy answered, her words careful but not with embarrassment. No, she was never one to carry shame over any choice she made. Her discretion was all for him, her eyes asking what she could divulge to the people in the room.

  He didn’t care who knew about his preferences but this was not the time or the place to discuss his kink.

  “Interested in you…” Elena let her voice trail off as the meaning became clear. “Oh. Interested.”

  “We met Paulo a few years ago at Club D and he always made his interest known, but we steered clear of him. It’s no secret that he’s a scumbag.” Rush directed a glare at Livvy. “Which is why we shouldn’t be baiting him with something he cannot have.”

  “We need to grab him as soon as we can, right? This is the best way to ensure he will be at a certain place at a certain time, and definitely not expecting an ambush with very little or no security,” Livvy concluded in a tone that made his teeth grind together. She was so cavalier to throw herself into danger.

  It pissed him off and scared the shit out of him but he couldn’t argue that it wasn’t a good plan. He also couldn’t just stand here and wait for Carla Ambroghetti to call back. He’d lose his mind. He stomped across the room and headed for the stairs.

  “I’m going to work out before I do something stupid like agree with this plan.”

  Chapter Six

  “Was he like this when you were married?” Brant asked.

  Olivia watched him stomp out of the kitchen and head down the stairs to the first floor of the building. His broad back was rigid, fists clenching at his sides. Atticus was pissed. It was probably best to give him his space…for now.

  “Oh yes. What you see with Atticus is what you get, although it isn’t always what you want.”

  He chuckled under his breath, nodding his head toward the large leather sofa to sit down. They settled next to each other and she knew an interrogation disguised as a friendly talk was coming. She was a largely unknown quantity to this man except for her reputation as a thief, and that knowledge was courtesy of Atticus. It was a testament to what good friends they were that Brant brought her on this team with nothing more than her ex-husband’s recommendation.

  She wondered if he would dive right in or take a more circuitous route to what he wanted to know. She guessed a dive off the high board but wasn’t sure. He didn’t disappoint.


  “So, why did you two break up?”

  Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. “I think you know why.”

  “The stealing of things that don’t belong to you?”

  “And I didn’t even have to give you a clue.” They both laughed but when they settled down she continued in a more serious tone. Losing the only man she’d ever loved really wasn’t a laughing matter. “I think it was the fact I lied to him about it for so long, at least by omission. Either way, Atticus was pretty black and white with his morality back then. Maybe now too. I can’t pretend to know him all that well anymore, if I ever did.”

  “I think you know him better than most.”

  She thought about it, watching Elena work steadily at the computer for a few minutes before answering. “We’re not that different, all outward appearances aside.”

  “Really? An earl’s daughter and an orphan kid from Baltimore?”

  She wasn’t going to share Atticus’s backstory. It wasn’t hers to tell.

  “I don’t really have a sob story. I’m the youngest child and the only daughter of my father. My mother was his second wife and instead of May-December it was more of a January-December romance. I barely got to know him before he passed away and my brother took the title. I spent most of my life in boarding schools but so did most of the girls in my position. My mother moved in and out of my life as her opulent lifestyle allowed and my brothers were all so much older that we had very little in common.”

  This is where she and Atticus were so much alike, and no one would ever guess without having their history. They’d been cared for by people who’d been paid to care and that made you view relationships differently. His life in the foster system and hers in impersonal, expensive boarding schools surrounded them with people who gave them what they needed but never needed them. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that it was what drew them together. The desire to be needed by at least one other person.