Hide & Seek

by Scarlett Finn

  “That’s all,” she said, but couldn’t actually remember all of them when he was leaning in like that, coming so close to her, making her forget her senses.

  “Murder?” She shook her head. “Adultery?” Turning her lip into her mouth, she dug her teeth into it and shook her head. He’d put murder ahead of adultery, like the latter was worse than the former. “Do you honor your mother and father?” he whispered.

  Inhaling, her breath hitched twice and like it was programmed, a tear slipped from her eye in the same moment she shook her head. “No,” she breathed out, her heart shattering with the confession.

  One corner of his mouth rose. “You’re just the right amount of corruptible, Cupcake.”

  Was he going to corrupt her? Was that what he was implying? It seemed that he was fascinated by her mouth, maybe he liked to watch her chew her lip. It was a nervous habit she’d started as a child and not one meant to entice. But he looked more tired now than she’d ever seen him.

  “Talking about breaking rules turns you on.”

  “Not as much as actually breaking them does,” he said, but instead of coming closer, or trying to break rules with her, he stood up and went back over to his laptop.

  He’d never shown interest in her like that. He never tried to touch her or to tempt her to touch him. In this situation, he’d had plenty of chances to join her in bed or force himself on her if he was that kind of guy, and he had to be that kind of guy because he’d broken every law by his own admission. That had to include the sexual ones.

  But scaring her wouldn’t get him what he wanted. He’d never find out what the point was if she hated him. And until they had Benjamin, Strike couldn’t demand that she tell him. He could be biding his time until this was over, or nearly over, maybe he planned to make his move then, they couldn’t call him ‘Strike’ for nothing.

  It could be that he just wasn’t attracted to her. If Bella was the type of woman he went for, he liked his women bitter and apparently vicious. Being with her wouldn’t offer him any type of thrill; that was probably why he’d referred to her as ‘vanilla.’ It wouldn’t be breaking any rules, she wasn’t married and if he wasn’t on any database, he couldn’t be hitched either.

  Flopping onto her back, she kept her knees bent and squeezed her eyes shut. Rora shouldn’t be thinking this way about the man she’d basically blackmailed into helping her.

  The fizz of attraction might have first touched her in the Last Resort parking lot, but it had been growing since. But that could just be because of the amount of time he’d spent between her thighs in the last few days.

  Riding the bike from motel to truck stop to gas station, it was a long, arduous journey, though he didn’t seem fazed by it. The man had no country, no home, no family. She wondered if he’d ever stopped moving or if this was his life. If it was, it explained a lot.

  Letting her feet slide down the bed, Rora flattened her legs and rolled her head on the pillow to get a better view of him. Intent on his typing as always, she wondered at what was in his mind. What was he doing over there? What was he working on that he seemed so desperate to finish? All he did when he wasn’t driving was type on that thing. Day in, day out, his laptop was his idol.

  “Strike,” she said, without teasing or expectation. But her softness got no response. “Strike, come and lie down with me.” He stopped typing. Like he always did, he hung there in silence for a few seconds, doing nothing before he turned to her. “Don’t fight with me. Just this once… Please?”

  Lifting her hand toward him, she hoped he wouldn’t just ignore her.

  He examined her for half a minute, poked at something on his computer and closed the lid. With her lip between her teeth, she waited to see what he’d do when he stood up and started toward the bed. Fearful that if she spoke she might make him change his mind, she kept her lip between her teeth even after he sat down on the edge of the bed and bent over to unlace his boots.

  Once he’d kicked them off, he cleared his throat and twisted, lifting his legs up onto the bed. But he was still sitting and from the movement of his head, she wondered if he’d forgotten how to lie down.

  Though it was funny to see him unsure, she hid her smile, and sat up beside him. Picking up his arm, she lifted it over her shoulders and used her upper body to ease his back onto the mattress. He stayed tense, his hand hovering over her arm rather than relaxing.

  Nestling closer, Rora put her head on his chest and pressed herself to him, reaching for his hand and lacing her fingers through his to keep his embrace tight around her.

  “I can’t reach to turn the light off.”

  “I got it,” he said and lifted his hips to pull a phone from his back pocket.

  With a few quick flicks, the lights went off and finally, she could let herself smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?” she asked, but the question didn’t seem so glib when he didn’t answer it.

  Confessing his fear to her was a sign that he did have insecurities, whether he liked to advertise them or not. He seemed so strong, invincible. Benjamin had a way with computers that left her in awe, but even he hadn’t shown ability like Strike had. It was possible he could do all the parlor tricks that Strike had impressed her with, but he’d never shown them to her.

  “When can I get up again?” Strike asked when they’d been lying in silence for a few minutes. “Is that enough?”

  “Close your eyes for me,” she said. He huffed. “Just close them and see what happens. Think of it as a challenge.”

  He muttered something to himself but moved enough that she guessed he was getting himself comfortable, inadvertently tightening his arm around her.

  She took it as a good sign that he didn’t just curse at her and shove her away. The phone was still in his hand, resting facedown against his thigh, she’d seen the screen light fade against the denim he was wearing.

  All she wanted was for him to be rested. Whether he lay with her for ten minutes or two hours, it was better for his body to recharge than not. With a yawn, she closed her own eyes and turned her face into his tee-shirt, making the most of his protection while she had it this close.

  seven

  A whimper squeaked from her throat when the first whisper of awareness stole into her slumber. Rora moved, testing her muscles, and smiled, her legs were wrapped around something long and hard, it felt good, solid. Pushing her hips forward, she found herself at the perfect angle to rock against it.

  The smooth, hard warmth beneath her hand was nice too. Letting her hand move up and down, she thought it might be flesh, so she guessed she was still in a dream. The careful, constant rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her palm made her pause and press her hand down. Her hips were still moving. She tilted, pressing her clit into the stimulator she’d been writhing on.

  Something tightened around the back and side of her neck, pressing her face closer to the hard thing she was wrapped around. When a masculine grumble drifted to her ears, Rora tried to open her eyes, and curled her fingers at the same time, but she scratched whatever was under her hand deeper than she’d meant to.

  The grumble became a curse and whatever was around her neck clamped tight fast, closing over her throat and cutting off her breathing in an instant.

  Her eyes flew open and she punched out. Strike! It was Strike! His arm was around her neck and he had her in a headlock.

  Just as her panic rose and she punched again, his arm loosened. She coughed. “Shit,” he mumbled. “It’s you.”

  Sucking in a breath, she recovered from the few seconds of terror and sagged. Her hand was up under his tee-shirt, lying in the middle of his chest beneath the fabric. Both her legs were coiled around one of his and then… Oh, the bulge behind his fly was unexpected, but intriguing.

  “Part of you was happy to wake up with me,” she said, impressed by what she saw. “Shame another part of you wanted to kill me.”

  “I’m a conflicted guy,” he said, stretching. But her fingers rose to thread between his, kee
ping one of his arms around her because her head was enjoying using his upper arm as a pillow. “Want to take your hand out of my shirt?”

  Tipping her head up, she wasn’t surprised to see him glowering down at her. Seeing him grumpy was par for the course, but she wasn’t used to this. His hair was rumpled, his eyes heavy, and the masculine scent of him swirled around both of them. Waking up wrapped around each other was intimate, being here in the heat of his embrace did more to her than just keep her toasty.

  “Do you wanna…”

  He licked his lips though his scowl went nowhere. “Do I wanna what?”

  Boosting herself upward, she lifted her pelvis toward the front of his thigh. With every increment closer to his mouth that hers got, it opened in anticipation. Kissing him would be a gateway to going further. They were alone, having spent the night sleeping together, there was no other way this could turn out.

  At least that was what Rora thought until he grabbed her shoulder and at the last second, right before their mouths met, he pushed her away. “No,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna.”

  Shoving her onto the bed, he got up and grabbed his phone from the mattress while he stuck his feet into his boots. “Strike—”

  “Just because you’re the proud owner of a sweet, slick pussy and I’ve got myself an overeager hard-on, doesn’t mean the two will ever meet, get it?”

  Sitting up, she gathered the sheet with her like she was naked beneath it, though she wasn’t. “Eager?” she asked without thinking about how eager the question would make her sound.

  “I’m gonna have a shower,” he said. “Stay there.”

  Stay where she was so she wouldn’t follow him? Because he sure as hell wasn’t coming back to the bed. Her first night of sleeping with him was going to be her last; he’d sent that message loud and clear.

  He was quick in the shower, she knew that from experience. Instead of staying where she was like he’d said, Rora got up and made the bed and then gathered her clothes for that day.

  Except he took longer than normal in the shower, so she found herself sitting on the couch with her toes hooked on the edge of the coffee table, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom. This would be another day on the back of that bike. Her body was getting used to it and now that she’d pushed through the initial discomfort, she liked the freedom of the bike, liked being able to race anyone else on the road and win. The speed was exhilarating and somehow made her feel invincible.

  But it had been days, racked with the vibrations from the engine, and her skin was itching to just be still. Considering whether or not she should ask Strike for a day off from their journey, she caught sight of his laptop on the table.

  Having it lying around was a familiar sight, but it reminded her of the computer she’d left behind. It had been months since she’d heard from Benjamin. But if he was trying to get hold of her, it didn’t help that she was off the grid. Rora had to be there for him and at the very least should check her email and the message board to see if he’d written anything.

  Sliding off the couch, she knelt on the floor and tentatively let her fingers move toward Strike’s laptop. She’d touched it before and it wasn’t like it had ever bitten her. It was a piece of machinery, just like any other. Who cared if it looked different with its reinforced cover and the weird metal shielding that was almost like cladding. It was a computer.

  Her nerves began to subside when she opened it and nothing bad happened. It was just a screen and a keyboard, just like she’d expect of any computer. Except it wasn’t any computer. All of the keys were completely blank and it didn’t seem to be accidental, there was no indication the characters had worn off.

  There was at least one extra line of keys and there were some weird symbols above those that she didn’t understand. But she didn’t have to understand them to know how to type, that was something she could do blindfolded.

  If she could figure out how to turn the thing on. Except… peering at the top corner of the screen, she saw a single line flashing. Was it on already? Ready for her? Now, if she could just remember how to switch from—she touched a key without thinking and a hot, sharp pain shot through her hand.

  She yelped in time with the sound of his voice. “Aurora!” Strike called out.

  With tears in her eyes she looked up to see him crossing the room in a flash wearing only a towel. “Strike,” she said, pain quaking through the hand she was cradling. “I—”

  “Damnit, damnit, damnit,” he said, dropping to his knees and grabbing the top of the laptop to flip it around to him. “I got you, girl. I got you. Calm down. Keep calm. I got you.”

  His whispered words were meant for the laptop that he was battering on at a thousand miles an hour.

  Here she was, an actual flesh and blood person, in pain, and he was focused completely on comforting the machine. “Strike,” Rora said, tears of pain slipping from her eyes. “I’m hurt.”

  “You’re lucky that’s all you are,” he mumbled. “She could’ve killed you. Next one would’ve.”

  Swiping at her tears, the shock of agony was subsiding. “She?”

  “What were you thinking?” he snapped. “Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

  Oh, that was rich coming from the guy who’d been stealing from her since the second they met. “Strike!”

  Crawling over the floor, she grabbed his arm, trying to pull him around to look at her. His fist came up fast, but he breathed through clenched teeth and extended a finger.

  “If you don’t let me fix this, you’re going to be on every wanted list on the planet within the next twenty seconds. There will be a BOLO out, your location will be fed to the cops and they’ll be here with a full SWAT team within five minutes. This might be a two-bit town, but I guarantee they still carry guns and they will have a shoot-to-kill order.”

  Unable to process the extent of what he was saying, Rora’s hand slid away from his arm and she sat gaping at his fingers flying across the blank keys. “H… how?”

  “She reads your fingerprint. Yours didn’t match mine, so zap,” he said. “Soon as you touch a key, she scans it and pulls up every detail of your life. Planting evidence isn’t difficult, and everything is digital. If a cop has an order to arrest, that’s what he’ll do. She’ll freeze your assets too, and those of every person you ever met, talked to, touched. Everything. ‘Cept as soon as the cops start looking, they’ll see your assets amount to exactly nothing since we’ve already wiped those.”

  So he was worried about the cops tracing a connection between her and Exile? “But… why?”

  “You touched something that didn’t belong to you,” he said.

  The bathroom door was open, the sound of the shower hammered away like he’d rushed from it without having a chance to turn it off and she wondered… “How did you know?”

  Holding up his forearm for a brief second, he flashed his wrist at her. “I have a security chip in my wrist. Anytime she’s in trouble. I know it.”

  “She wasn’t in trouble,” Rora said and then closed her eyes to shake her head. “It’s a computer, Strike.”

  “My computer.” He hadn’t been wrong about not sharing. “What were you looking for? You think I just left Gallagher’s address in a convenient little stick-it note for you?”

  There was real anger in his voice and his lip curled like he was struggling to suppress his rage. “I wanted to check my email,” she said. “That’s all. I wasn’t spying on you.”

  “Are you really dumb enough not to know I’ve been monitoring your email since this started?” he said. “Gallagher hasn’t been in touch, is that how he did it? Emailed you? Primitive. I’m not as impressed anymore.”

  No, it wasn’t email, it was the message board, and she had to interpret his message. Benjamin wasn’t direct, they took precautions. “No, but I thought—”

  “That message board is no better,” he said, and she was surprised to hear that he knew about it. “Don’t know if it’s a reflection of y
our skills or his that he went for a place filled with kooks and crazies.”

  “Some would say I fit right in,” she said. “That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t imply anything,” he snarled. “If I have something to say then I say it.”

  But that wasn’t true. Through all of this there had been something he’d held back from her and it wasn’t any kind of information about Benjamin or what the goddamn point was.

  “Then say it,” she spat and was aggravated that he ignored her to keep typing.

  Characters flew onto the screen’s black background. Windows of different colors opened and closed, each movement of his fingers caused another ripple and she didn’t understand anything of what she was seeing.

  Grabbing the top of the laptop, she slammed it down and pushed it away. “Goddamnit!” Strike yelled out and tried to sweep her aside, but she dug her nails into his arm and yanked at him. “Get out of my goddamn way if you don’t want to—”

  “Go to jail, I know, you just said it! I’ll go to jail. I’ll do the time. Just say it!”

  “Say what? What the fuck are you—”

  “Say what you’ve wanted to say to me since the minute I walked up to your table in Last Resort and dropped Benjamin’s license in front of you. Say it, Strike! Goddamnit!”

  Lunging forward, he gave her no choice but to fall back and catch the weight of her upper body on her elbows. He pointed his finger into her face and snarled, “You have no place here! No place in this world!”

  “Feel better to say it?” He sneered at her, eyeing her body and turning to straighten and reach for his laptop again. She sat up. “You hide behind that, behind her,” she said. “You act like you’re this big, scary guy with all these skills and maybe you are smarter than me. Smarter than everyone, who knows? But you’re alone, hiding behind your screens and machines. Who would come for you if you were in trouble? You don’t stand for anything, you don’t have a cause, and you don’t have any right to judge mine.” With a hand on the coffee table and another on the couch, she pushed herself onto her feet, but stayed bent over to snarl in his ear. “You leave me alone with that bitch again and I’ll put my new switchblade through her motherboard.”