“Your target escaped. Period. He knew you were coming, because when the local police got there, a scarecrow had taken your bullet. Which leads us to believe that no mere junkies stole your bag, if someone was prepared to set up a countertrap. It wasn’t crackheads, but someone shrewd enough, with enough underground information to set you up. And the local police receiving a gift out of the blue was also a very well-orchestrated move.”
His contact pushed back from the table and sipped his coffee slowly. Vladimir could feel perspiration building in his armpits and between his shoulder blades, making the black silk shirt beneath his suit cling to his body.
“I will address it.”
Neither his contact nor the silent security beside him spoke.
“I said, I will address it,” Vladimir repeated, and then waited for a nod that never came.
He was on his feet in seconds. His contract had been canceled mid-job. The way of his world was very efficient; he was a dead man walking. He tossed down his napkin and rushed out of the restaurant. Bright sunlight blinded him, and he was so momentarily disoriented that he couldn’t remember where he’d parked. The humidity of Washington, D.C. was stifling, even at this time of year. Sweat coursed down his temples as he found the open lot where he’d parked away from the hotel, always sure to keep his vehicle separated from him, hidden, lest anyone tamper with it at the scene of the job. Today, he wished it was closer.
He began jogging, relieved to finally see the new rental, and he handed the valet his ticket stub, glancing around quickly. If they’d found it and rigged it, the valet would lose his life—not him.
Without incident, the valet brought his car around and stood for a second, waiting for a tip. Vladimir brushed past him, jumped in his vehicle, and turned the air-conditioner on full blast. Several blocks away, he reached in his breast pocket for a cigarette and carefully placed it between his lips. This was a small job, by comparison. An old man and a woman. Who gave a shit if his contract was canceled? There was plenty of global mercenary work to be done. He had the means to disappear. If they fucked with him, he’d hit his contact and the men that hired him as a go-between. Fucking American slime balls. They could do their own dirty work.
Vladimir grabbed a book of matches that had been stashed in the change holder, cupped his hands around the end of the cigarette to keep the air conditioner from extinguishing the flame, and flicked a match with his thumbnail.
The resulting blast shattered every window in the car.
Cap sat at his desk in the Philadelphia Police headquarters, listening carefully to what his inside man down in Washington told him. It paid to have friends everywhere, especially those who observed a little local courtesy for the men on the street. He nodded to himself as he hung up, and then looked at his cell phone.
James stared at the incoming number on his digital cell phone display. Twice in one day ... oh, yeah, this thing was heating up. He took Cap’s news stoically, and kept his line of vision on the riveted faces around him.
“Might be coming stateside with Laura for a few, man,” James said, studying the expressions around him. “Any markers you can call in so I can do some digging, up in Philly and down in D.C., would be most appreciated.”
“This is some very foul bullshit,” Cap replied. “I’ll make a few entrée calls, from there, you’re on your own.”
James closed his cell phone and looked at Akhan. “The guy who was after you just bought it.”
“How?” Akhan said, leaning forward to brace himself against the dining room table.
“Air-conditioning refrigerant had been replaced with the kind that’s highly flammable. It was a warm day in D.C., dude was a smoker. Kaboom,” James said calmly. “An accident. I hear tell the media will probably do a special on the subject on the nightly news, a Consumer Report segment about the dangers of low-end, Freon-type replacements. This was very, very smooth. No car bombs, no shots fired from traceable ballistics, just a rental car that might have gotten serviced by a bogus can of refrigerant during the normal P.M. cycle. Like I said, a convenient, very clean accident.”
“Then, if the dude who was looking for Pops just got his contract canceled, maybe they’ve called off the dogs, feel me?” Jamal said, glancing around. “I say we all lay low, stay here, and ride out the storm. Maybe your man at The Round House in Philly is on the case, it scared them off, and they decided that the bullshit wasn’t worth it. Ain’t no need for you and Laura to be going to Philly and D.C., kicking up no dust unnecessarily.”
“That’s not how it works, dude,” Steve said, worry haunting his eyes. “They canceled his contract, permanently, and will get someone to replace him who isn’t as sloppy.”
“We’re out. It’s real basic. We have to step to them, before they step to us.” James briefly held Jamal’s gaze and then looked at Laura.
Akhan simply shook his head and he stood up. “Be safe when you travel,” he said, glancing at Laura and James and dismissing Jamal’s argument. “I’m going to go lie down for a while and rest.”
They were up before dawn, packing under duress. She and James moved around the bedroom in utter silence. It was as though they were doing a quiet, choreographed waltz. The only time they spoke was to say good-bye to the family, who had agreed to stay in Najira’s home, since the main targets were Laura and Akhan. But nothing on Grand Cayman was in Akhan’s name, especially not real estate.
Try as she might, she couldn’t let go of the worry as she and James drove off. The faces of the people who stood in the driveway were the only family she had left in the world, save her sisters and their brood. Laura kept her eyes on them until the vehicle turned the corner, etching every face into her memory, burning it into her psyche like a brand.
“You think they’ll be all right?” she finally asked James, already knowing the answer.
“We can only hope so. Got a vet cop in there: Steve. Jamal ain’t no slouch. Your uncle is handy with a weapon and doesn’t miss much. Najira is as loud as an alarm system. Everybody’s got a weapon. That’s all we can do.”
His statement, though designed to console, didn’t. She couldn’t blame him, though. What he’d said was the naked truth. James didn’t do platitudes or false promises. That was what she loved about him most. The man was brutally honest to a fault.
“I’d feel better if we had a little heat on us,” she finally admitted.
“Can’t get it through airport security. Gotta pick up what we need when we get to Philly, and then drive it down to D.C. with us.”
She knew that. They looked at each other. Her nerves were rubbed so raw, they were showing. James reached over, clasped her hand, and drove with only one of his. That was all that needed to be said.
“Déjà vu,” Laura remarked flatly, staring at her unopened suitcase on the floor of the Ritz Carlton.
James poured himself a Chivas from the courtesy bar and sat down hard in the hotel room chair, sipping it neat. “Yep.” He let his breath out in an audible, disgusted rush and rubbed the tension away from his neck. “Back in Philly, flying in under radar, no home to go home to—ain’t nothing here the same, yet everything is.”
“We had a year,” she said quietly, making his eyes meet hers. “A good one.”
“You talk like it’s over, like we’re dying.”
“Feels like I am,” she admitted, and stood to pour herself a rum and coke.
“I’ve never heard you give up,” he said, watching her intently.
“What you hear is fatigue,” she said, coming toward him and absently clinking her glass against his. “I can’t even think anymore.”
“It’s called frustration—that’s what’s got you in its grip, baby.”
She sat across from him and nursed her drink. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Am I wrong?”
She smiled for the first time since they’d left Grand Cayman. “I don’t know. What’s your theory, doctor?”
“I think you’re beyond pissed off
, because somebody set a ball into motion without you. And, be honest, you spent a lifetime setting up a very clean game, moving the pieces around so you and your family could be safe and old vendettas settled. Then you retired, decided to get out of the game, and somebody ain’t finished playing yet. They’re forcing your hand, unraveling all that you built lovely. Since you’ve been disconnected from the inner workings, it’s like you’re a freshman all over again, and have to learn the new game.”
He peered at her as he took a slow sip from his rocks tumbler. “I know my wife that well. It’s pissing her off, and being pissed off without a way to vent that energy is wearing her out. Basic math of the way Laura Caldwell’s mind works.”
Her smile widened as she took a healthy swig from her glass. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Because I’m right,” he said, chuckling.
“Yes,” she said, and set her glass down hard.
“Good, because I’ve noticed over the years that, when you’re good and angry, you’re at your best.”
She arched an eyebrow and gave him a nod of respect. “Thank you.”
“Much obliged.” He grinned and finished his drink. “I also noticed that, after great sex, your mind works wonders, too.”
“Really?” She spun the glass on the table and kept her gaze fixed on him.
“Really,” he said, his smile sliding to a serious expression.
“Must be a Scorpio thing, and you wouldn’t understand.”
“How many times have you left my bed, and then gone off to do something crazy?”
She laughed. “A number of times.”
“Not this time,” he said, no mirth in his tone. “It’s too dangerous. Even if you have to wake me up and tell me you’re going out, I want to be in communication with you at all times. Understood?”
Her broad smile went to a very sly one. “All right ... but is that also an offer for some very good sex this afternoon, so I can develop a plan?”
He tilted his head to the side and just stared at her for a moment. “It can be, if you’re gonna do it.”
She stood up and walked over to the king-size bed without a word, and unbuttoned her winter white, crepe wool jacket. Letting the garment hit the floor as she slid it off her shoulders, she watched James’s eyes assess her gold silk blouse, gently tugged it out of her slacks, and then pulled it off over her head.
It was a silent, provocative floor show for a man who’d endured much, but still believed in her ... a man that, if things went down wrong, she might never see again. It was a final good-bye, as much as it was a reinforcement of all that was good in her life. Time was to be cherished, especially when it was running out. Sand was pouring through the hourglass faster than she could draw her next breath. It was a visceral knowledge, like watching a car accident occur in slow motion before one’s eyes, helpless to intervene. The equation was thus very basic; if she was going to die, then this was the last thing about this ugly world she wanted to remember; if he left her widowed, then she never wanted to look back wondering why she didn’t take the time to show him how much she loved him.
Laura unfastened the back of her flesh-toned-and-black lace, Victoria’s Secret demi-bra with purpose, and watched her husband’s eyes go to half-mast. Her eyes never left his as she slowly unzipped her winter white slacks at the side, and stepped out of her brown leather flats. Using two fingers, she pushed the pants down over the swell of her hips, rewarded by his expression of open desire. He was breathing through his mouth by the time her slacks hit the floor, leaving her exposed and wearing only a lacy, flesh-toned thong.
This man needed to know that for all of the drama they’d been through, he meant everything to her. What she couldn’t find in words to tell him, she would show him. As she gazed at him, each memory came into focus, made her breath become shallow, and she drew her thumbs to her mouth to wet. Drawing a lazy trail of moisture over her breasts, she watched the effect that had on him through lowered lids, brushing her thumbs across her nipples until he licked his dry lips.
Yes, lover, I will miss you so if you don’t make it was the message. Yes, my dear husband, I know you’ll grieve, if I’m gone, as would I for a lifetime without you. My past was pitted with bad deeds, her hands said, but I will be as bad as you need me to be this afternoon. The admission was made with each erotic sweep of her body. Every touch that landed against her skin as she kept watching him watch her across the room expressed the same thing: James Carter, make the most of these few idle hours, she said by simply cupping her breast, allowing her head to fall back, and her thighs to part ever so slightly for him. I’m so sorry that my past caught up with both of us, her soft moan meant. This is yours. I’m yours. That’s all I can give you right now, since tomorrow isn’t promised ... but you’ll never have to wonder about this. That’s a promise I can keep.
He read her silent messages very well, but couldn’t find the words to tell her that he did. His line of vision was trained on her smoldering glances, then had slipped down her pretty face to her lush mouth to then fully appreciate her gorgeous body, her breasts, her cinnamon skin, her hands that touched places he craved, her flat belly, and the way her long, shapely legs tensed as she moved. When she opened her thighs framing her swollen mound, he almost stood. He was jealous of her palm as it slid down her torso and of the fingers that circled her navel, scattering light caresses lower until they disappeared beneath the flesh-toned fabric and made her draw a sharp breath.
Unable to move as he watched her hand pulse under the thong, he felt his groin automatically follow that same pulse, the throb in it connected to the same tempo, his inner thighs tensing and releasing just like her hand. If there was one last thing he wanted to remember about what they had, or about this life, Laura chose well. His body had immediately responded to her tender offer. There was no negotiating with that, as he watched her, amazed, at the effect she always had on him. Her timing was impeccable. Her understanding of him, even more so.
Just by the way she peeled her clothes from her luscious body, he knew she wanted him to observe, see the gift unwrapped slowly, to allow him time to burn the memory into his brain. What he wished he could tell her was that it had been branded there from their first encounter.
She used her body well, just like she mastered time management. He wouldn’t squander these few hours. His wife was right ... Cap forewarned him not to fall by the station; otherwise he’d have to haul him in for questioning, which would get messy. Contacts would be off the records, as would a little assist for old time’s sake. Unmarked guns had been ordered by way of cellular hook ups, along with their new ID, and a car without a traceable VIN ... everything they needed would be ready in a few hours for pick-up off-site—he loved the fact that Laura was ready now. This was a much better option than sitting in the room and wringing their hands.
He stood up slowly, unable to continue watching her sensual disrobing at a distance. Time was running out, and he needed to touch her to stop it for just a little while. When she’d hooked her thumbs under her thong, had shimmied it down to the floor, and licked her lips, that had spurred his decision. Her hand glistened when she’d removed it from her panties, and the sight of that sent a shiver down his spine.
In one pull, his cable-knit sweater and T-shirt came off over his head, but there was something in her eyes that slowed his progress.
Her gaze slid down his body and landed on his belt. “Let me do that,” she whispered, and eased herself down to kneel.
It was an unspoken offer, one that made him stop breathing for a moment before he could will his legs to walk toward her. What her position promised also made him abandon his shoes as he moved to stand before her and gently caress her face. Her beautiful brown eyes said I love you, and that was the last thing he saw as his eyes slid shut at the sensation of her graceful hands tracing the insides of his thighs.
The hot, moist feel of her breath teased his stomach and made it clench as her sensuous touch skipped past the ache that des
ired it most. A few hours, yet time had slowed to a halt. Pending disaster—but he was in heaven. Listening to his belt being unfastened and the leather of it stripping through the loops on his pants ... waiting for her lush mouth—sheer agony. But she took her sweet time, pulling at the front clasp of his slacks, and lowering his zipper one tooth at a time.
Just the sensation of the light wool fabric falling open, the rush of cool air, followed by the heat of her breath, dried his throat. Long licks and mind-consuming kisses scored his abdomen and his thighs while her butter-soft caresses melted over his ass and burned through his silk boxers. In a perverse change of perspective, he suddenly wished time would speed up, rather than continue its leisurely pace of driving him insane. Each kiss, each lick, and every touch drew his breath in sharply and tightened muscles that he didn’t know he had.
The boxers came down in painful increments, leaving only a long wet drip in their wake. Even the air now burned him; her soft cheek against the angry surface of suddenly exposed skin caused a contraction. But she ignored it, holding his hips steady, and turning her lips against his sac. A hot lash of tongue released a trapped moan, a full suckle of the overly sensitive skin turned the moan into her gasped name. He couldn’t help moving to the rhythm of each pull, each slow rotation of her tongue, no more than he could help bending to stroke her hair ... trying to coax her to rush time and take the most pained part of him into her mouth. He almost outright begged her to suck it.
Cool air covered by tender hands made him look down at her. Laura’s chin was tipped up, her expression stone serious. Their eyes met, he tensed and braced himself as she lowered her mouth, but never let her eyes leave his. The shudder that she produced started at the base of his spine, ripped across his shoulders, and jerked his head back—her tongue a spiral of ecstasy within a hot, deep cavern of pleasure. She knew him so well; too well, so excruciating and exact ... in tempo, and pressure, and just, right ... Jesus, right there.
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