She’d been surprised when he’d actually stepped away without a threat or warning of the consequences if she tried to run, allowing her to finally take a normal breath without him crowding her space—a fact only made better because he’d been so close and smelled like the ocean and coconut. Awful timing to notice something like that, she knew, but she’d always been fond of coconut. The scent of it always made her mouth water.
Not that he inspired that reaction at all.
No matter how good he smelled, there wasn’t much else to like about him that she could find over the course of their short time together.
He hadn’t been particularly unkind when they’d met in that room before, but since then, he’d done a complete one-eighty. His tone became brusque and he had this way of making her feel like he was looking down on her even without their significant height difference.
He didn’t like her and he was making that painfully obvious.
For the life of her she didn’t understand what had changed, but she didn’t care enough to find out why. So long as he did his part—and stayed out of her way—she didn’t care if he disliked her.
As far as she was concerned, he was merely a means to an end.
Once they landed in Hawaii and made it to the safe house, she would find a phone by any means necessary and call her family to make sure they were safe. Then she would ride this out until it was over and she was free.
But sitting by herself, a sudden thought struck her.
It wouldn’t hurt to advance that plan a little.
She might have been sitting in a shadowed corner of LAX, afraid that someone would recognize her, but Ada still watched everyone around her through the sunglasses she wore, her head tilted down as she pretended to read the magazine in her lap.
Her palms were sweaty, and no matter how many times she rubbed them against her jeans, the moisture came back until she was doing it all over again. She couldn’t shake the nerves, knowing Skorpion would be back at any moment and her window of opportunity would be lost.
No matter how confident the Kingmaker had been before, he couldn’t account for every single person in the world. He had to have known that she would run into someone that had a phone she could use.
She wasn’t sure why he even refused her a phone—the tracking devices on her ankles ensured she could never get away without his knowing—but she fully intended on breaking his rule.
Glancing around, she searched for Skorpion in the crowd of faces, figuring he wouldn’t be hard to spot with the sheer size of him, but after a few seconds of looking and not finding even a hint of him, she focused her efforts on the girl sitting a few feet from her.
She was playing a game on her phone, one Ada didn’t recognize. She looked normal enough, a college student if she had to guess, going home to visit family, probably. Her gaze shot up when Ada approached.
“Excuse me,” Ada said politely, plastering on a smile and laying on her accent to an obnoxious degree. “Could I use your mobile? Mine’s not working properly and I need to ring a friend before my flight, if that’s alright?”
The girl smiled and nodded with a shrug of her shoulders. “No problem at all.”
The beauty of being English in the States.
She thanked her profusely before taking the phone, her heart racing like she’d hit the lottery.
How many times had she left hers forgotten in a room in her apartment, not giving it any further thought? How many times had she let it die and not charged it for hours because it hadn’t been important?
Now, it was the most important thing she could get her hands on.
One phone call was all she needed.
One phone call to make sure everything was in order and the anxiety she felt would lessen.
But as she pulled up the phone’s screen, her fingers hovering over the keypad, the girl’s eyes widened in alarm as a shadow fell over them, and she knew, just knew, who was standing behind her.
Had she not been kidnapped at gunpoint from her office and experienced the sheerest terror in a few hours anyone could have felt in their entire life, Ada was pretty sure she would have been afraid now that she had been caught, but if anything, she only felt a mild annoyance that he was ruining her plans.
She spun, forcing her smile to stay in place as she tried not to look guilty as she faced him.
It would have made sense to be afraid of him, especially knowing what he was capable of considering the man he worked for, but for reasons she didn’t understand, she didn’t fear him.
Maybe because, despite everything, he hadn’t been cruel to her. And he hadn’t been one of the four who’d put a gun in her face.
His gaze dropped to the phone in her hand, but there was no surprise in his gaze. He’d known she would try. “Adaline, babe, our flight is boarding.”
Her full name in his rumbling voice was enough to wake her senses—and not in a way she should have liked.
There was a subtle threat lingering behind those six words, and considering he had only ever called her ‘Ada,’ it was clear he didn’t expect to be ignored.
She hadn’t even thought he knew her full name.
But, of course, there was a file with her name on it, she just hadn’t thought he’d bothered to read it.
Clearing her throat, she handed the girl back her phone, her hope dying a quick death as she watched her one shot at getting the answer she needed slip from her fingers.
“I can always call after the flight,” she said, keeping up the ruse, trying not to flinch when she felt Skorpion’s hand settle on the small of her back. “Thank you, anyway.”
The girl nodded, seeming at a loss for words as she watched them walk away, but all too quickly, she was sucked back into her own little world and Ada was quickly forgotten.
“You don’t follow rules very well, do you?” Skorpion asked once they were out of earshot.
She was more annoyed with herself than she was with him, but all the same, she found herself muttering, “If I were, I wouldn’t be here with you, would I?”
He was spinning her around to face him before she managed another step, her hair briefly whipping around her face before she was staring up at six and a half feet of suddenly pissed off man.
“You think I don’t have better shit to do than babysitting your ass? In case you didn’t realize, princess, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. As far as I’m concerned, you dug the fucking hole you’re in and you should dig your way out of it, but that’s not my call.”
If she were capable of words in that moment, she might have snapped something back at him, but any response she had died somewhere in her throat and she could only stare up at him wordlessly though her anger was strong.
“So, here’s what it’s going to be. I have one job, and that’s keeping you alive long enough to get whatever information the Kingmaker wants from you. Once that’s done, feel free to do whatever the fuck you want. Until then, keep your mouth shut, do as you’re told, and don’t piss me off. If you can’t manage that, I’ll make this a lot worse for you. You get me?”
Too stunned and furious to speak, Ada could only manage a single nod before she turned away.
Yes, she got the message.
Loud and clear.
* * *
Between sitting in the airport under the watchful eye of an annoying mercenary and six hours on a cramped plane, Ada was glad to finally stretch her legs once they landed. A light rain had started to fall during the flight, misting the tiny window she’d stared out of during the entire journey, but the droplets only seemed to enhance the sprawling green of the island below once it came into view.
But it wasn’t just the grass, everything seemed to be a bright, brilliant color—the turquoise of the glittering waters, the greens of the jungle, and even the pops of color from the flowers could be seen from the plane far above.
She could only imagine what it looked like from the ground.
Another twenty minutes passed while waiting f
or their bags to come around, the time spent standing side by side without speaking.
Skorpion was a man of few words, she’d gathered.
Not that she minded, she didn’t think she would like whatever would come out of his mouth, but she still didn’t enjoy the tense silence stretching between them.
It felt tangible, something she could reach out and touch.
Her luggage appeared first, but he didn’t ask for help as he grabbed both cases and tossed his duffel bag over his shoulder, the muscles in his arms straining under the weight..
Not that she noticed.
He led the way outside, her following, until they reached a truck that was surely decades older than her. He stopped walking and yanked open the passenger door that groaned in protest. Considering the money she was sure he made, she was surprised.
She stopped. “Is this your car?”
He barely spared her a glance. “Respect the truck.”
He couldn’t be serious
Sand and a few empty soda cans littered the floor of it, along with other things she didn’t want to think about. She wasn’t even sure if the thing—and that name felt appropriate—could even run.
So she told him as much.
He sighed, glancing toward the sky before cutting his eyes back to her. “If you wanna walk, be my guest.”
She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Has this been sitting out here since you’ve been in LA?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
She had nothing better to do. Literally. “So?”
If he’d ever entertained the notion of killing her, now would be that time considering the look on his face. “A friend brought it up for me when I told her I was coming in.”
“Another mercenary? Assassin?” At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if there were a legion of highly trained, deadly men around the world, waiting to do the Kingmaker’s bidding.
He leveled a dry look on her. “She owns a floral shop in town.”
Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. “Does she know what you do?”
He gestured to the open door. “Get in the damn truck and stop talking.”
He didn’t bother waiting for her to respond. Instead, he just tossed their luggage in the back of the cab without any care at all about how expensive those suitcases were before he ambled around to the other side and slid behind the wheel.
Before he could drive off without her, she quickly jumped in and shut the door, breathing in the scent of leather, tobacco, and salt water before pulling the seatbelt across her lap and buckling it into place.
The engine rumbled to life with one turn of the key and in seconds, they were pulling out of the parking lot, the airport disappearing in the rear-view mirror.
Within minutes of taking off, she could definitely say pictures didn’t do Kauai justice. Everything was made up of such vivid colors—from lush green palm tree leaves to vibrant flowers in reds and yellows and pinks. Combined with the backdrop of mountains in the distance slightly obscured by nearly transparent clouds, it felt magical, as if she’d travelled to a distant planet.
As they traveled further away from the city proper, she glanced over at Skorpion ever so often, studying the tattoos that wound themselves around his arms and disappeared beneath the short sleeves of his shirt.
The ink was made up of intricate patterns, but after seeing a few men with similar, though not identical, tattoos in the airport, she finally grasped what they stood for, or at least the culture they came from.
Samoan.
She should have guessed as much from the burnished gold of his skin and the tattoos together, but she hadn’t connected the two until now.
That would explain why they were here of all places. Hawaii wasn’t a place one usually took a person being held prisoner.
More rain fell as they drove and before long, heavy droplets pelted the roof and windshield, drowning out the soft music playing from the radio.
She’d expected him to drive to a hotel, but after an hour of riding, she was almost sure he couldn’t possibly know where they were going, not when they were now surrounded on both sides by vegetation, and she could hardly see a thing in front of her, but just as she was about to question him, he hit the brakes and stopped in front of a partially concealed gate.
Rain drenched the thin material of his shirt as he climbed out, but that didn’t slow him down as he made quick work of the vines first, then shoved the gate open wide enough for them to drive through.
As they drove up the winding road, she expected to find some sort of remote cabin, one straight out of a horror film once they made it to the top, but instead there was a house.
An actual house made of polished wood and glass.
They parked along the underside of the house where a makeshift garage was built, surfboards in varying stages of completion leaning against one wall, skateboards hanging up above them. In the very middle of the room was a table where long pieces of wood were lain out, but she hadn’t any idea what those were going to be used for.
She stepped out of the truck, hurrying out of the rain, vaguely aware of Skorpion at her heels.
When she thought of safe houses, she imagined nondescript buildings in the middle of nowhere, and while this was definitely out in the middle of the jungle of all places, it was far too nice for what she’d anticipated.
“This way,” he said shortly, gesturing toward a path she hadn’t noticed.
Before now, she had never thought it was possible to loathe someone as quickly as she did him, but he was quickly testing that theory.
As she gave her back to him and started walking, she bit back what she longed to say, figuring staying silent would be better for this arrangement, but while her mind was focused on everything she couldn’t say, she wasn’t paying attention to where she was stepping.
The heels she’d picked the morning before were no match for the smooth stone and trying to rush up the incline out of the rain made it impossible not to slip.
Her heel flew out from under her on the next step, and she would have hit the ground hard had a powerful arm not caught her around the waist and practically held her suspended off the ground. For one breathless moment, she marveled at the power in his hold before quickly righting herself.
“Those aren’t gonna work out here,” he said with a pointed nod at her feet before gesturing for her to keep going, a smile twitching at his lips.
Yeah, she was getting that.
Carefully, she balanced on one foot then the other as she removed her heels and started walking again.
Once she finally reached the front door, nearly soaking wet, she was eager to get inside, more than ready to dry off. She forgot all about how wet she was, and marveled at the view behind her. Trees stretched on as far as the eye could see, a scattering of birds launching up from the leaves before disappearing again.
But before she could take it all in, Skorpion was suddenly there, as soaked as she was, the front of his shirt nearly glued to his chest, highlighting the very clear definition of his abs. Of course he was fit—he was a mercenary, even if she didn’t completely understand what that all meant—so there was no reason why she needed to stare so blatantly. Before he could call her on it, she turned away and cleared her throat.
Skorpion opened the door and stepped inside, clearing his throat for her to follow.
She stepped onto dark gray ash wood floors that stretched from room to room, that same wood extending up the walls and even onto the support beams on the ceiling. The side of the house they came in on was made nearly entirely of glass and standing on the other side of it, it made it feel as if the jungle was inside the house.
Two couches made up of bamboo with white cushions sat perpendicular to each other, a bohemian style rug stretched out on the floor between them. Throw pillows were casually strewn across them both and the lone chair off to the side even had a couple of its own.
Someone had lovingly decora
ted this room, and the entire house it seemed, in shades of white, taupe, and gray, and the idea of Skorpion having done this surprised her.
The kitchen was just as nice, with a giant refrigerator in one corner, a display of pots and pans in the open face cabinetry above the sink, as well as a stove top built into the countertop.
She tried to take everything in—the few paintings hanging on the walls, decorative lances, and all the different rugs—as she followed him through the room and down another set of stairs to the lower level.
He twisted the handle of the door at the end of the hall, revealing the bedroom on the other side.
“Bathroom’s to your right,” he said once she was inside and looking around. “You’ll have this floor to yourself.”
He set her bags on the floor, still not looking at her.
She blinked in surprise as he turned. “Worried that I might try to kill you in your sleep?”
“Not even remotely.”
“I could leave in the middle of the night and you wouldn’t even know.”
His expression that rankled the most was that look of pure arrogance, as if she were amusing him by just speaking.
He gestured with one finger to her feet. “Tracking devices, remember? Besides, you’re a good seven miles from the main road, and the keys to my truck stay on me at all times. Now, if you want to try to take them from me,”—his mocking smile turned a little wolfish— “Give it your best shot.”
He offered a mock salute before turning for the door. “Yell if you need something.”
As he slipped out of the room, she waited until she heard his footsteps above her before she took in the surroundings of her new, temporary home.
A pretty prison, rather. This place, no matter how nice to look at, was not a home. She needed to remind herself of that.
Especially since she shared it with someone like Skorpion.
A canopy bed sat against one wall, the sheer drapes drawn back and gathered behind hooks on the posts. White sheets stretched across the king-sized mattress, along with a thin blanket that made sense considering how humid it was.
Den of Mercenaries [Volume Two] Page 6