Mercy

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Mercy Page 9

by Dimon, HelenKay


  “Uh-huh.” His affect flattened and a sudden coolness spilled off him.

  Panic rose in her stomach and clogged her throat. “Jarrett?”

  “Next time when I tell you to take the shirt off, do it.” Then he stepped away from her. Pulling up his pants, he walked to his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

  • • •

  A few hours later she rolled over in her guest bed. She caught the sliver of light in the hallway and heard the soft thud of footsteps. When a shadow fell across her doorway, she closed her eyes and held her breath. If she could will him inside, to her, he’d be climbing into bed right now.

  Instead, he stood there. She could feel his presence even though he didn’t make a sound. Didn’t shift. Didn’t rustle his clothes.

  It seemed like hours, but was likely closer to a few minutes when she heard the footsteps recede again. Her eyes popped open and she stared into the darkness. Looked like he wasn’t ready to lower the wall between them at all. She knew that would set back her attempts to collect the information she needed. But the sensation tearing into her had nothing to do with work.

  NINE

  He hadn’t slept a fucking minute and there was only one person to blame—Becca. Jarrett shook his head as he straightened his tie and reached for his suit jacket. Now that he had her again and knew she would react to his touch as if the months never passed, he spent every minute wanting to get back upstairs to be inside her. The weakness shook him and last night’s kitchen sex proved how far his control had slipped in such a short time.

  He wanted distant but hot. He only succeeded in finding half of that.

  The five miles running on the treadmill that morning didn’t help clear his mind. Probably had something to do with how much he hated running inside. He didn’t need a lot of time outside, but he did crave the fresh air pumping through his lungs as he ran through the early morning D.C. streets.

  That was just one more thing he lost when Becca tried to destroy him eight months ago. No way was he willingly putting a target on his back and giving the CIA or any other government agency a free shot at him by following his usual running trails. If that meant staying close to home and work and limiting his outings to places he could sneak to by car, so be it. At some point enough time would pass or he’d have enough leverage and he could venture out without worry, but having Becca land on his doorstep ensured the time wasn’t now.

  He walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. The reason for his common sense’s destruction stood right there at the breakfast bar, ass out, bare legged and sexy as hell as she sipped coffee and made notes on a legal pad. Clearly she’d taken another spin in his office.

  But that wasn’t his main complaint. “Shirt.”

  She shot him a smile over her shoulder. “Good morning to you.”

  Gone was the initial wariness she wore when she arrived. Twenty-four hours and she’d fallen back into old patterns. Flirting while pushing him and looking too delicious for him to fight her.

  But they no longer had a real relationship, if they ever did, so he held the line. “I want it off.”

  She stood up and turned around, taking away his perfect visual shot of that ass. “I was cold.”

  Only took him a second to see she hadn’t bothered to button his shirt. This was the one he wore yesterday. She had him so messed up that he didn’t even remember taking it off. “That’s convincing.”

  “Why are you even up? You had a late night and it’s only nine.”

  The quick change in conversation didn’t throw him off. He debated dragging her back to the clothing topic. Might have if she hadn’t run her hand over her flat belly and pulled his stare even lower.

  “I have a meeting.” Though now he was thinking about moving it. He could visit the second floor and deal with an irate Elijah anytime.

  “Okay.” Her fingers tightened on her coffee mug.

  The move was so slight he almost missed it. Might have if he wasn’t studying every inch of her so he could torture himself with the memory all day.

  “No need to panic. If I intended to turn you over to the CIA, I would have done it yesterday,” he said.

  “I’m thinking maybe you wanted another round of sex first and now my time is up. Maybe today is the day you get your revenge.”

  As if a few rounds were enough to satisfy him with this woman and let him move on again. “Using you for sex is enough vengeance for now.”

  “Interesting, since sex with you is not a hardship for me.”

  She just had to go there, had to keep pushing. He wanted her at his mercy and she wouldn’t even give him that. Oh, she’d act like he was in the lead and she feared him turning her in, but he sensed that underneath she kept plotting and maneuvering. No question he was at least ten steps behind. Last time that happened, he ended up in a jail cell.

  He needed her to know the screwing didn’t trump his dignity. He still thought with his brain, not his dick. “You came to me. You set the parameters of this game when you walked up to my door and let me catch you.”

  “You figured that part out, did you?”

  “From the bits and pieces I’ve picked up on, like how you once slipped into an embassy without being spotted.” He skipped over the more unbelievable parts of her file, the ones about her kills, and stuck to the ones involving break-ins. “Another time you snuck into a high-tech security company and made it out with a rogue computer program without being caught.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been busy reading my résumé, I see. I’m wondering how that’s possible.”

  “The point is, I’m pretty sure you could figure out a way around my security if you wanted to.”

  “Not without some planning.”

  “Which means you’re playing me, and I’m wondering why you would think that’s a good thing. I have a reputation and it’s not as a nice man, Rebecca.”

  “I know.” She didn’t even blink. “I read your file. The parts my bosses gave me.”

  He’d bet that was enough to spell out his years running the streets, then owning them with Wade by his side, enforcing the rules and collecting the cash. “Then you know how dangerous it is to yank me around.”

  “I’m here for protection and a bit of breathing room. I’ve been spinning for years and want to sit still for a few . . .”

  “Few what?” It was the closest she’d come to putting an end on her visit. The idea of an expiration date should satisfy him, but it left him uneasy.

  “Days, weeks. I don’t know what it will take, which is why you should help me.”

  He’d had about enough of this. He had no idea what to do with her or how to deal with her access request, but he was not playing ball with the CIA and handing her over. Disloyalty in any measure was the one sin no one could ever lay at his door.

  “Listen to me.” He put his hands on her shoulders and regretted the touching the minute he went down that road. “I’m not turning you in.”

  “Good.”

  The smirk did him in, as if she were just waiting for him to give her the green light. He went with yellow. “Yet.”

  She pushed his hands away. “You always have to do that. Have the upper hand, keep me guessing.”

  “Just testing. Consider that last part a joke. The one thing I promise I will not do is give you over to those fuckers at the CIA.”

  “You don’t joke and you don’t promise, so you’ll forgive my skepticism.”

  Now she was pissing him off. If she wanted a battle, he’d give her one. Hell, he could fight all day. At least then he’d have some control and a slice of that much-needed emotional distance. “Again, I didn’t volunteer for this gig. You picked your savior.”

  “Interesting word.”

  Between the eyes flashing with fire and the way her crossed arms pushed her breasts up and open for his view, he knew
it was time to go.

  He put his jacket on, taking time to button it and run a hand down the lapel. By the time he was done with the show, his spark of anger died down to a livable level again. “I’ll be back. You know the rules.”

  “No clothes. No moving. No rooms on the left side of the condo.” She sat down on the barstool.

  “See, not so hard.”

  She closed her eyes. When they opened again, some of that fire had disappeared. “This is never going to work if I just sit up here doing nothing.”

  “You have the legal pad and pen.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The goal is to move me out of here eventually. That means I need to track everything that happened with Spectrum over the last year. Figure out who was really in charge of the day-to-day and who called the final shots.”

  “You know that information.”

  “I know the normal office division of labor and what I was taught about protocol, but this job went sideways.”

  Making him collateral damage, which seemed just fucking fine with everyone, including her. “And crashed into me.”

  Her words stammered and she hesitated before taking off again. “Someone pulled the plug on the operation after changing its parameters. Someone picked burning field agents over moving us or simply disbanding the group.”

  That part pointed to something deeper, and Jarrett guessed the information he turned over to the CIA was at the heart of it. “Sounds like an expensive intelligence decision.”

  “Once I know all of that, I’ll know who took out my team and put my name on the list to be next.” She finally wound down, but energy still vibrated off of her. “And then, Jarrett, you can be rid of me forever and celebrate however you see fit.”

  The words shot into him with the force of a bullet. He fought hard not to flinch. “Okay.”

  “Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? Me gone as fast as possible?”

  “Stop acting like I’m the problem.” She was determined to make him feel guilty and he refused to wear that tag. “Again, you’re the one who came to me.”

  She clenched her jaw hard enough for it to click. “Stop saying that.”

  “I didn’t go searching for you.”

  “I get that. Believe me.”

  “The way I see it, the last time you lived here you were fucking me over. Now you’ll just be fucking me. That can go on for as long as I enjoy your body.” Saying the raw words helped him regain just enough control to keep from touching her. From saying something stupid he would regret and she would use to emotionally bludgeon him. “Then there’s the part where it’s only been one day, so try being patient.”

  “I stripped on command for you.”

  “And why was that again?”

  “You insisted.”

  She acted as if that explained anything. He knew better. “You’re not exactly the type to be ordered around. Except in the bedroom, where you prefer it.”

  She started to say something then sputtered to a halt. It took her another few seconds before she blew out a haggard breath and started again. “I need your help right now.”

  From the mood to the tone of her voice, one thing was clear. The balance of control shifted back to him. “So, you’re willing to do anything.”

  “I guess we’ll see when you get back.” With that, she spun her chair around and picked up the pen.

  He decided that’s as much of a win as he was going to get, so he walked out.

  • • •

  Wade balanced his palms on the kitchen counter and stared at the flecks in the granite top. The last month brought him a stream of steady, unbelievable sex and someone to share his condo. But it was all so unstable and tenuous.

  Then Eli dropped that “because of you” comment a day ago and made it sound as if being in the apartment made a difference to him. Wade had no idea what the hell to think about that.

  He knew Elijah’s history. He slept with men and women, together or apart, whatever the assignment demanded. Even now he insisted he preferred women. Never mind that he spent every night all over Wade, entering him, sucking him off. There wasn’t an inch of Elijah that Wade hadn’t kissed and touched, and vice versa.

  Getting in this deep was so fucking stupid. Something about the man had Wade ignoring his own rules about holding back and being careful before trusting the man he was with. Biggest problem was the lapse came from something more than the impressive broad shoulders and what Elijah could do with that cock.

  The idea the punch of desire probably went only one way, that he was convenient to Elijah and not much more, sucked the life right out of Wade. For years the blur of time before Jarrett dragged him out of the streets and into an office, Wade had killed men on command. Yet now he couldn’t stop from falling for the disinterested guy in bed beside him every night.

  “You okay?” Elijah ran a hand over Wade’s back. Up and under his T-shirt. Over his bare skin, kicking his nerve endings to life.

  Wade exhaled more to calm the grinding in his gut than shut off the slap of lust that always hit him when Elijah stood so close. “No.”

  His mouth touched Wade’s hair. “Admittedly, I didn’t let you sleep much last night.”

  As if Wade needed that reminder. The closeness, the confusion backed up on him. “What are we doing?”

  “Getting a straight answer from Jarrett and a timetable for Becca’s exit.”

  Not what he meant at all, but Wade knew there was a time for relationship conversations and this wasn’t it. With Elijah, there might never be a time for more than hot sex with a guy whose body begged to be explored.

  “Right.” Wade stood up. Tried to throw Elijah a smile he’d buy as genuine. “Wonder what he’ll say.”

  “Hey, hold up.” Elijah grabbed Wade’s arm when he headed for the family room.

  The sudden concern and spontaneous touching where it couldn’t lead to sex were both new. Wade welcomed it all, but instead of making things clearer, the change just muddied everything.

  Wade pushed down the confusion and tried to play the moment like it was any other, even though in his head it blew bigger. “What’s up?”

  Eli frowned and this time the look didn’t appear to come from anger. “Did something happen last night down on the floor?”

  “Like?”

  Elijah’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, but something’s got you half here and half somewhere else.”

  “I just—” The sharp knock at the door cut off what was likely to be the wrong answer anyway. “There’s Jarrett.”

  He could walk in since he owned the building and included the condo as part of Wade’s compensation. But Jarrett never did. He honored privacy and kept confidences. For a guy who wrestled with darkness and insisted on handling most things on his own, he understood friendship and loyalty.

  And Wade sure tested that bond. Elijah arrested Jarrett all those months ago and did it with fanfare. In the most visible and reputation-punishing way possible. Eli now insisted he acted on Todd’s orders, and Jarrett for whatever reason decided to overlook the embarrassment and let Elijah stay.

  Wade took it one step further and had sex with the guy. All the damn time. Guilt walloped him at the beginning. He made the decision not to compound the betrayal by covering up Eli’s move into the apartment. It was pretty clear the guy hadn’t slept in the small crash pad across the hall once he healed enough to move around.

  Other than issue a warning for Wade to watch his back, Jarrett didn’t comment on the new second-floor sleeping arrangements. Wade once tried to apologize, but Jarrett told him to shut the fuck up and live his private life however he wanted.

  And that summed up how their friendship ran from the beginning. Jarrett had been the first business associate to know Wade was gay. Didn’t even blink, certainly didn’t care. When he heard a second knock, Wade tried to break Eli
jah’s hold, but he tightened his grip.

  “We’re not done with this conversation,” Eli said.

  “Okay.” But Wade feared the finish line hovered right in front of them.

  He pushed his worries and fears to the back of his mind and went to the door. He opened it to find Jarrett standing there in a suit. Not that the guy wore much of anything else. This or exercise clothes. Wade tried to remember if he’d seen Jarrett in anything else since Becca left. He wore casual clothes back then, but his wardrobe was one of the many things that changed after being in jail.

  He glanced up from his phone. Then his gaze skipped over Wade’s shoulder. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Wade decided he needed to work on his poker face. “Come in.” He stepped back so his boss and friend could enter.

  Elijah didn’t mess with small talk. He stood in the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

  Then he went for full vocal. “What the fuck is going on?”

  So much for the calm of the last few minutes. The furious line-bending popped up again.

  Wade tried to rein Eli back in. “Let’s settle down.”

  “Good advice.” Jarrett dropped the cell in his pocket as he walked across the open space to stand in front of Elijah. “Maybe you should listen to Wade and get ahold of yourself before you say something you regret.”

  “You plan to shoot me again?”

  “It’s tempting.”

  Wade stepped up, forming a semicircle with the other men. Not that he could stop either of them if they decided to launch into full-scale violence. Even with his strength and the gun at his side, Wade was at a disadvantage. He’d support Jarrett, but Elijah wasn’t wrong about being ticked off at Becca’s presence.

  And the shooting did happen. Elijah had shown up at the wrong time, injured and going down hard, when Jarrett wasn’t in the mood to listen or forgive. Talking fast, Elijah had pointed his finger at the rest of his team and refused to leave when Jarrett made a threat about what he liked to do to trespassers.

  Elijah admitted one night much later that he never thought Jarrett had the balls to shoot a guy who was bleeding and lying at the threshold to his club. Elijah now sported a shoulder wound to prove Jarrett did. The thing that concerned Wade was that Jarrett wouldn’t hesitate to shoot again.

 

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