Gold Mine

by Warren, Skye

  “Hi,” he says.

  It makes me smile. “Hi back.”

  “What the hell did the lieutenant colonel say to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He gives me a dark look. “I can imagine him coming in with all his self-righteous bluster, his arguments and his threats. What I can’t understand is why you listened to him.”

  “He said he was going to try you for treason.”

  “Fuck treason. That’s not why you left before I could even say goodbye.”

  “Would you have said goodbye if I’d waited?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Then that’s why I left.”

  “Something he said spooked you.”

  “I was worried, all right? I was worried that I would crush the life out of you. We come from such different worlds. I go to brunch and you kidnap me. I could never survive in your world, and what if…” A tear trickles down my cheek. “What if you can’t survive in mine, either?”

  His jaw works. “I don’t know, Holly.”

  “That’s why I left without seeing you. He said it would crush the life out of you, trying to fit with me, and I didn’t want to be responsible for that.”

  “Hell. I love you.”

  Another woman might have been moved to happiness by hearing the confession. I burst into tears. “Don’t. Don’t. You don’t love me.”

  “Do you think I chose this? Do you think it matters what I want? My love for you is irrational. It defies logic and reason and common sense, but that’s what makes it love. We aren’t convenient, Holly. We don’t fit, but I can’t live without you. That’s what makes it love.”

  “What if love isn’t enough?”

  “Enough for what? I’m going to be with you if I have to tear down every goddamn door in my path, if I have to abduct you from a hundred street corners.”

  “He said he’ll charge you with treason, Elijah.”

  “Every relationship has problems.”

  “This is serious.”

  He scrubs a hand over his face. “I know. I don’t give a shit that he’s going to smear my name through the mud, but it means you can’t live in your loft with your sad-looking succulents.”

  “You were inside my loft?”

  “And worse, it means I can’t involve my brothers. Even knowing me will taint them, but I can’t make it worse by asking for their help. When I go on the run, I do it without them.” His expression turns grave. “The only question left is whether I do it alone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Elijah

  We leave the church in the same black SUV that we arrived in.

  Except this time there’s no dark hood over Holly’s head. No duct tape on her wrists. We’re both in the front this time, me on the driver’s side, her in the passenger seat. My hand plays with her fingers, linking them together, stroking the sensitive places on her palm.

  Maybe this is what she meant by dating.

  It’s a foreign idea.

  Not an entirely unpleasant one.

  Her head’s turned away from me. She watches the city go by.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, which just confirms my suspicion.

  I squeeze her hand gently. “Tell me, sweetheart. Or I’ll force the answer out of you. You probably won’t enjoy that process, but I definitely will.”

  A pretty pink blush covers her cheeks. “He told me he would have the charges of treason dropped if I left you alone.” She glares at me, but it’s overshadowed by her worry. “But he said our deal was off if you found me again.”

  Loving someone is hell. I want to slay dragons for her. Instead there’s only one dragon, and he’s a bastard with the weight of the US government behind him. “I’m thinking.”

  Panic darkens her brown eyes. “You can drop me off at my loft. You don’t have to come in. We can pretend like you never found me again.”

  “Pretend like I never fucked you against the bars beneath a New York City church? Pretend like you didn’t scream and beg and cry when you came? No fucking way.”

  “There are more important things than sex.”

  “I can’t think of any.”

  “Your life.”

  “He’s not going to kill me. I’m too valuable.” Unfortunately Holly is the leverage he needs, which means she’s in more danger than ever before. It seems he already suspected that when he visited her in Italy. Following her to New York City confirms it for him.

  That’s a problem, but it’s not going to keep me from her. Nothing will.

  “There’s something else,” she says, then looks away again. “Another reason we can’t be together. A more important one.”

  I wish I wasn’t driving, so I could take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, so I could make her look at me. Instead I grip the steering wheel until it creaks in protest. “What?”

  “He said he understands you better than I ever will.”

  “The man can’t understand a basic requisition form.”

  “He said you need the work he’s offering you.”

  Hell. The man actually had found my sore spot, my constant need for danger. The adrenaline rush, the violence. It’s the only thing I know. “I can do that work with my brothers.”

  “Not if you’re wanted for treason.”

  No, not if I’m wanted for treason. I’m useless to my brothers like this. And my hands are tied. The best thing I can do is stay under the radar. Any sort of exposure would only draw attention to me. Even a bar fight could lead to death and discovery. “I’ll take up knitting.”

  “He said I’d only strangle the life out of you.” Her voice becomes a whisper. “And he’s right. That’s why I left Italy. A person should have a line, you said, and you’re right. That’s my line. I refuse to strangle the life out of you. Because I love you too much to do that.”

  I swerve the SUV and pull over in an alley. That way I can grasp her face on either side and look her in the eye. That way I can snarl at her, a lion being denied his mate. “Then love me more than that. Love me enough to ruin my fucking life.”

  She gives a watery laugh. “You’re insane.”

  The alleyway has the faint smell of kung pao chicken. There’s a dumpster, and beyond that, a structure made of cardboard boxes and milk crates that probably houses a homeless person. It makes a more appropriate confessional than the church.

  It’s the kind of place I lived in until I enlisted.

  “You trusted me enough to tell me this. I need to trust you the same way.” I swallow hard. “You need to know the kind of man you’re entrusting your life with.”

  She turns to me, her expression earnest. “I can fight, you know. You don’t always have to protect me. And I already figured out that I can write on the run.”

  She’s worried about fitting into my life, and the idea cracks the cold metal fortress around my heart. “Listen. I’m not worried about you being strong enough. You’re a goddess.”

  Her expression turns abashed. “Then what were you going to tell me?”

  “What happened to me after I left my father’s house. Or what I became. It’s not really about the things that were done to me. My father beat me, and it was never really part of me. But after I left, the things I did to survive, they’re burned into my soul.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what you did.”

  “But I do.” I run a hand over my face. “The truth is it will be a hard road trying to negotiate a peace with the lieutenant colonel. We’ll be hiding until I can work out a strategy. Gather the right leverage. You need to know who you’re hiding with.”

  “I already know you.”

  “No. You know the man I am now. The soldier.”

  Her eyes turn soft. “Who were you then? Before the soldier?”

  “I was a whore.” The word comes out hard and flat. There’s no sugarcoating that reality. There’s no pretending it’s anything other than disgusting. “I dealt drugs, but when I couldn’t, when I needed ca
sh, when I needed food, I knew the right street corner. It wasn’t so different than this one. Wait until someone drives by and rolls down the window. Give him a price.”

  Her eyes are wide. She doesn’t look horrified, but that’s because she’s busy being shocked out of her mind. I looked up the house where Liam left her. White fence, vegetable garden. It’s an entire world apart from the ramshackle mobile home I grew up. A different planet entirely than the makeshift structure a few yards in front of us. I slept in a place like that. I know how little it does to keep out the cold and rain. I know about the rats and the roaches.

  “Oh, Elijah,” she whispers. “No.”

  Grief. That’s the first idea that comes into my head. The first stage of grief is denial. What is she grieving, then? Her love for me? Ruined. Our life together? Gone.

  “Yes,” I say, my voice grim. There should be no doubt.

  “And you feel shame for that. Of course you do,” she says, almost to herself. “Your father failed you. The system failed you, but you blame yourself.”

  “My father was a bastard, but he had nothing to do with me after I left.”

  “Nothing to do with you? He beat you until you had no other choice but to leave.”

  And there is anger. Pretty soon she’ll come to accept the reason we can’t be together. I’m not a man who any woman could love, not when she knows the truth about me.

  Her eyes turn fierce. “How dare you.”

  Shame thumps hard in my chest. “I should have told you. I know that.”

  “Then love me more than that,” she says, mocking me. “Love me enough to ruin my fucking life.”

  “That was before you knew. I won’t hold you to that.”

  “You’re determined to break my heart.” Tears fill her eyes. “You beautiful, brave, stupid man. You want me to love you? I already do. Telling me something that hurt you in the past will never change that. Telling me what you did to survive? Do you think I’d rather you starved?”

  “I starved you,” I tell her, my voice grim. “No food. No water.”

  “That’s not precisely true. You offered it. And I turned it down.” She gives me an impish look. “Besides the fact that you only kept me captive overnight.”

  “I don’t think many women would be so understanding of being held captive for any time period.”

  “Everything you did, everything you survived, it only brought you to me. Understand?” She holds my face the same way I held hers. I can’t tear my gaze away. “I would take away your pain if I could, but the only thing I can do now is promise that you’ll never be alone again.”

  There’s a distinct tear. That’s what it feels like in my chest. Something ripping into shreds. That old blanket of shame, perhaps. I make a rough groan and press my lips to hers. It’s a messy kiss. There’s nothing slow or sensual about it. It’s a mashing of lips. A claiming.

  “Come on,” I murmur against her lips. “Let’s get your things.”

  I start up the SUV again and maneuver into the flow of traffic. One conversation cannot erase a lifetime of shame. One conversation cannot assuage my guilt over derailing her life.

  It’s a start.

  She’s the one who stepped out of the church. Instead it feels like I’m the one who finally left my self-imposed prison. It feels like I’m the one warmed by sunlight for the first time in years.

  It feels like hope.

  At least until we step inside her loft.

  The lieutenant colonel sits in her favorite armchair for writing. He’s flanked by two men in uniform who look ready to shoot us on sight. The lieutenant colonel smiles. “There you are. You’ve kept me waiting, but I won’t hold that against you. Sit, sit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Holly

  It’s easy to think of Elijah North as invincible.

  Only when he’s naked and underneath me, brought low by desire, made weak by how much he needs me, can I really see that he’s flesh and blood. A man.

  Which means he can be shot. Hurt. Killed. Even as my mind rebels against that idea, my body pumps blood fast and hard. I’m preparing for combat. I may not be a soldier the way that Elijah is, the way these men on either side of the lieutenant colonel are, but I’m a fighter.

  “Good afternoon,” Elijah says, his voice casual and sardonic, as if he isn’t surprised. The only thing that betrays his shock is his stillness. “Sir.”

  “I see you haven’t lost your manners. Though I think we should disarm you to make sure.”

  There’s a moment of taut silence. Then Elijah moves with deliberate slowness, taking a gun from his ankle holster and a knife from his pocket. He sets them down on the foyer table alongside a vase of fake calla lilies.

  “One more,” the lieutenant colonel says, and Elijah produces another compact gun.

  He sets it down and stands with his hands at his side. I have to peer around him to see the lieutenant colonel, and I realize that he’s blocking me with his body. He’s using himself as a shield to protect me in case someone starts shooting. And I’m close enough to the door that maybe I could even escape, however unlikely.

  If I were willing to leave him behind.

  If I were willing to sacrifice him to save myself.

  Elijah lifts his hands. “What now?”

  “Now we talk,” the lieutenant colonel says. “I did warn the girl what would happen if you found her again. I thought it wasn’t likely, though. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “Nope,” Elijah says. “Dumb as a rock. Makes me wonder why you want me to work for you. Seems like you have enough dumb fuckers under your command already.”

  “Elijah, Elijah. You always were the best. Much better than Adam.”

  “Adam?” I ask before I can stop myself. He’s been inextricably linked to Elijah for the entire time I’ve known him, but I know there’s more to the story.

  “Yes,” the lieutenant colonel says. “Though he always took after his bitch of a mother more than me. She was a spy, you see. I thought I was getting a nice, obedient mail-order bride. Instead I got one of Russia’s finest.”

  Shock leaves me rooted to the floor. “He’s your son?”

  “My one and only. I would have preferred if our Elijah here were my child.” He grants him a fond look that feels more creepy than paternal. “We have much more in common.”

  “No, you don’t,” I say.

  “Of course we do. Both of us are coldhearted sons of bitches with a talent for killing people. Neither of us care much what flag we do it under.” His expression turns cold. “And both of us have a weakness when it comes to sweet pussy.”

  I shiver at the crude description. And the way it does seem to apply to Elijah. Only the dark side of him. There is another side, one that’s held me, cradled me. Protected me. “You’re wrong.”

  “Don’t bother,” Elijah murmurs. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. The only thing that matters is that we make a deal with him.”

  “Deals require leverage,” the lieutenant colonel says. “You don’t have any.”

  “No? I think some members of the US government would be very interested to know about some of the shadow operations you’ve conducted. Some against its own citizens.”

  “Those operations would implicate you as much as me.” The lieutenant colonel breathes harder, and his eyes take on a harsh beady gleam. Certainty washes over me; he’ll never leave Elijah North alone. He’ll never stop following him. Never stop hounding him. Elijah had more freedom trapped in that French church than he does anywhere else. He’ll never be free.

  “Mutually assured destruction.”

  “I could blame you completely. Nothing was ever in writing.”

  “Mostly because you can’t write a form with complete fucking sentences. The good news is that I recorded some of our conversations. Senators who conveniently disappeared. Judges who were blackmailed. It would destroy you.”

  He turns purple in the face.

  I have the faint worry that
he might collapse—a heart attack, a stroke. Whatever happens to old people when they completely overload with stress. Then he nods to one of the men, and somehow, through my small experience, I recognize the kill order when it comes.

  He’s going to kill us here in this loft in the middle of Manhattan, because it’s safer than letting the world find out about his crimes. No matter how valuable Elijah is to him, he’s more dangerous alive right now. Which means we’re dead.

  Time slows down, and I look to my right, where the guns sit on the foyer table. White calla lilies and a black titanium gun. Point and shoot, he told me. It can’t be that simple, but I also have to try. My pulse thumps in my brain like the bass in a club.

  I grab the gun. It’s lighter than I remember. Or maybe I’m stronger.

  Thump. I point and shoot.

  Thump. Thump. Red blooms on the lieutenant colonel’s uniform.

  That’s the last thing I see before the world turns upside down…

  Elijah flattens me to the ground.

  The gun is in his hand instead of mine.

  The vase with the calla lilies explodes.

  Shards of crystal rain down on us. Elijah pushes me out of the room and down the hall. The world has become eerie and quiet. I can’t hear anything, not even my feet pounding down the fire escape.

  We make it back to Elijah’s car. He buckles me into the passenger seat. Then he’s in the driver’s seat, and the SUV steers roughly onto the street.

  He’s shouting something at me, but I can’t hear him. His lips are moving. I watch them to see what he’s saying. Stay with me. Stay awake.

  Why would I fall asleep at a time like this? I look down at my body.

  Blood spreading across white fabric. Black text stark across my chest. I don’t feel any pain. I don’t feel anything at all.

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading GOLD MINE! I hope you loved this dark and dangerous story. You can order SILVER LINING, the conclusion to Elijah and Holly’s story right now…

  Elijah North has survived starvation and torture. Now he faces his darkest challenge: the possibility of life without Holly Frank. The woman he loves hangs in the balance. The family he found mourns in the distance. And the future he built crumbles in the wind.