Lies_simple

by Scott, Kylie

  “Think I’ve had about enough surprises for now.” Thom pulls out his cell. No doubt seeing he’s missed about fifty calls and text messages from me, along with other updates. Though the stiffness in his shoulders eases some at whatever news he’s reading. “Crow is cleared.”

  “Makes sense, or he would have been in on this hit with Scorpion. We’re going to need all the backup we can get.”

  “Roger that. Sending them coordinates.”

  “Locating Archie won’t be easy,” says Helene. “Now that he’s taking control of his father’s estate, his resources will be innumerable. We need to reel him in, however, and the sooner the better.”

  Thom says nothing, still busy on his cell phone.

  “I trust you have access to a secure line? Give it to me, please.” The woman holds out her hand, her polish immaculate. Unlike mine, her hand is steady. Though she didn’t kill anyone, only dodged bullets. What a day.

  Without hesitation, Thom hands over his cell. “You can get a warning to Mr. Adisa?”

  “I can try. But I have a feeling this is going to get much worse before it gets better.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Of course, Helene’s idea of a safe house is a large, renovated English-style cottage with a widow’s walk on top sitting on tons of acreage on the Hudson River. It’s not dirty, just a little dusty. As if no one’s been here for a while.

  In the basement, there’s an operations room. Lots of computers and stuff. It’s the only room in the place that has clearly received constant attention and cleaning. No dust, and the tech looks like it just rolled off the shelves. There’s also a large walk-in weapons locker and a security system that could rival a Swiss bank’s. The woman is obviously prepared for just about anything.

  Bear sits at one of the consoles, tapping away on the keyboard. “Fox and Crow are on their way. ETA for Fox is an hour and a half. But Crow is going to be longer.”

  Not a surprise. The sun is rising since it took us forever to get here with Bear staying off main roads and often doubling back on himself. No one could have possibly managed to follow us. Though we’ve thought this before, and been unpleasantly surprised. After all, traffic and security cameras would have been able to monitor us for at least some of the way. And Helene’s car is a Rolls Royce. Very distinctive.

  Thom pulls a collection of weapons out of the locker, lining them up on a table. Night-vision headset thingies. Fully automatic rifles. You name it, we’ve got it. Even Henry would be impressed.

  “I can call in backup from the security firm I use,” says Helene, watching the screen over Bear’s shoulder.

  Thom shakes his head. “We don’t know who Archer’s gotten to, except that he’s likely already penetrated the group once. Scorpion and her people had inside knowledge of your movements and security detail, Helene. I’d bet my life on it. They knew exactly when and where to attack to get their best shot at taking you out. If Bear and I hadn’t shown up, you’d be dead.”

  “Very well. I’m going to rest while I have the opportunity. Alert me to any changes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Helene ascends the stairs like a queen, with her head held high. Not a sign of anxiety, despite the recent assassination attempt. Meanwhile, I’m sitting on a chair to the side, mentally running through song lyrics from a few decades ago. Because I’m practical like that. And I’d rather think about Janis Joplin and her general awesomeness than death in general, or actually dying sometime soon. Mostly it keeps my mind occupied and away from things best not pondered. Like bodies and blood and brains on the wall. Me killing someone. The surprised look on Badger’s face. White roses with red specks.

  Maybe I’m in shock. I feel cold and the real world seems distant. Like any moment now I might wake up from this horrible dream.

  “Babe.” Thom holds out his hand. “C’mon upstairs and lie down. Nothing’s going to happen for a while.”

  I take his hand, letting him pull me out of the chair and lead me upstairs. There’s plaid wallpaper and chunky brown leather furniture. Walnut kitchen cupboards and stainless steel appliances.

  “Are you hungry?” asks Thom. “There’s nothing fresh, but the freezer is apparently full of frozen meals.”

  Just the thought of food turns my stomach. “No. Thank you.”

  Thom ushers me into the closest room, a tan-colored bedroom with a large sleigh bed made up with forest-green sheets. The curtains are drawn against the morning light. Like the rest of the house, the room is only a little dusty. Guess a cleaner comes once a month or so. The gardens might be basic, but they’d still need looking after. Perhaps she pays the people through a shell company so no one knows who they’re actually working for. Not that any of it particularly matters.

  We’re safe for the moment. I should feel safe. I should be able to breathe easy for a little while. But I can’t. I’m just waiting for the next disaster to befall us. Which sounds like I have nil respect for Thom’s abilities. Though that’s not true. I’m just…damn. I don’t know what I am. I can still feel the gun bucking in my hand when I squeezed the trigger. Hear the sound of bullets entering flesh and pinging off metal. It’s as if a part of me is still standing in that elevator, watching all hell break loose.

  And there’s a bathroom attached to this room, which is mighty handy given how my night turned out and what a mess I am. “I might just—”

  “Let’s get you out of those bloody clothes.” Thom shuts the door and turns the lock. He inspects my face. A whole lot of too-pale skin with dark circles under the eyes, no doubt. It’s been a hard few days. A tough night.

  “I convinced that kid to take me up to the penthouse,” I say. Just needing to hear it out loud. The cold hard fact of the matter. I am culpable. There is blood on my hands. “Cory. His name was Cory. He’d just finished his shift. He was doing me a favor.”

  “You had no idea about what was going on up there.” Thom kneels at my feet, unties my boots. “Sometimes innocent people get caught up in bad things. If you want to blame someone, blame the person who shot him in cold blood. Sit on the bed, babe.”

  I do as asked. “I shot someone too. I killed Badger.”

  “Yeah. But he was a bad person who needed shooting.” He tugs off a boot, followed by a sock. Then moves on to the other foot. “You were defending yourself, Betty. He would have killed you. He’d already tried to kill us before by leaking our address to set up the bomb in our house.”

  “Mm.”

  “He was a hired mercenary, fully prepared to take out innocent people for no reason other than money.” He lifts the hem of my tee, giving me a brief smile. “Arms up.”

  With my arms in the air, I say, “I don’t think anyone’s undressed me since I was a child.”

  “I undress you constantly in my mind, if that counts. Stand up.” He tugs on my hand and I let him draw me back onto my feet. Next he deals with the button and zip on my black jeans, easing them down my legs. The fabric is stiff with blood below the knee. It’s a relief to get out of them. “Lift your leg.”

  “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

  Both of us ignore the red-brown stain of another person’s blood on my shin. I stand there in my underwear, too dazed to feel exposed. Besides, he’s seen it all before. “I’ll get them washed for you. Don’t worry.”

  Next he leads me into the bathroom, turning on the shower, testing the water with his hand. No previous lovers, or other such types have looked after me this way. Tended to me. Is this love? The need to look after your chosen person? The desire to be close to them? I guess so. At least, it’s got to be close to resembling the sentiment. Maybe he wasn’t lying about his feelings all this time. Maybe I’m lying about mine now.

  “Let’s get this off you,” he says, reaching around to undo my black bra.

  “I know there’s work to do, but can you stay with me for a little while?” I fist my hands in his shirt, needing the contact. Right now, he has a much better grip on the world than I. I’m s
piraling. Free falling.

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you. I just…I don’t know.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but nods in understanding.

  Once my underwear is gone, he tears off his own shirt, toes off his shoes. He gets naked much faster than I could ever manage. Another one of his useful skills. He takes my hand and backs into the shower, water sliding over his skin. “Come on in here so you don’t get cold.”

  The spray of water wakes me a little, breathes a bit of life back into me. How is it I’d killed someone, yet feel like a part of myself has died? A bit of my innocence maybe. I’m not quite sure if I’m a good person anymore. Or maybe I’m someone who, when pushed, can go to extremes I never imagined possible. I can kill someone who’s not a stranger. Can cross lines and fight back. Maybe good and bad aren’t as straightforward as I thought.

  My hand sits on his shoulder as he kneels down to wash the blood off my leg. Pink water swirls down the drain. His skin is hot and alive. Everything I need right now. He’s so beautiful with his scars and his hardness. How gentle his hands are on me, despite the things they’re capable of.

  I’m the one who starts the kissing, my mouth pressed against the side of his neck. Even with the water, I can still catch the warm scent of him. The taste of salt on his skin. It’s all so perfectly Thom.

  “Babe,” he mutters. “You okay?”

  “Absolutely not.” I kiss him again. Harder.

  “Whatever you need.” His hands skim down my back, comforting as opposed to sexy-times exploring. The muscles in his arms flex as he holds me tighter and tighter. “I thought I was going to lose you today. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. The elevator doors opened and there you stood. Then that asshole turned and aimed his gun and…”

  “I’m right here.”

  “You almost weren’t.”

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  “Jesus. If he had harmed you, I would not have given him a quick death.” The fire in his eyes, the stark way his cheekbones stand out…this man is a lot overwhelming. Especially in this moment. “I know you don’t want to hear that sort of thing, but it’s the truth.”

  “I understand.” And I do. The thought of anyone hurting him makes me stabby too.

  “You’ll never come after me again. Promise me.”

  “But you needed to know—”

  “Nothing is worth you getting hurt. Shit! You almost got killed. Tell me you understand that, Betty.”

  Problem is, I don’t exactly agree. “Did you know about Badger?”

  “As a matter of fact, I found out a moment or two before you made your entrance.”

  “So me killing him—”

  Thom groans. “It helped. I’ll admit it. But we would have managed.”

  “You would have been cornered, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Admit it.”

  But apparently he has no interest in further debate right now.

  His kiss is gentle at first. Firm lips pressing against mine, again and again. As if he’s just reassuring himself I’m still here and alive. I’m the one who pushes for more. My mouth opening, tongue teasing. And Thom doesn’t hold back at all. Not once he knows I want it. Hell, that I need it. His body hard against mine, his fingers possessive on my flesh. After today, we both crave this physical confirmation of being alive and together. There’s no doubt.

  My spine hits the tiled shower wall, his hand cradling the back of my head. He kisses me hard and deep. It’s a soul kiss. Like nothing I’ve ever had before. His tongue caressing mine, his lips molded to my mouth. With all of the death we’ve been facing, he’s breathing life back into me and I can’t get enough.

  One hand grabs my breast, kneading and playing. And it all feels so good. Someone apparently turned my sensitivity levels up to eleven. Because even with the shower water, I’m wetter than I’ve ever been. It’s almost embarrassing. Normally these things take time. A certain care is usually required to turn me on. But apparently Thom even existing in my general vicinity works just fine these days.

  When he gets to his knees, pressing his face against my mound, kissing the sensitive flesh below, my brain goes offline entirely. Worries, cares, concerns, none of these things exist. There’s only here and now.

  A strong hand hitches my leg over his shoulder, opening me to his attentions. In days of yore, he’d kind of fumble around down there for a moment or two. He’d pretend he cared then move straight on to the next thing. Now the man eats me like it’s his life’s mission. Tongue dragging through my cleft before circling my clit. Fingers easing into my body, pumping slowly. It’s not enough though.

  Rest assured, I’m not shy about expressing as much by pulling on his hair. The muffled laughter in response all but drives me insane. However, he does as instructed and starts sucking on my clit, hooking his fingers to rub the back of it deep inside of me. Further confirmation the man knows anatomy and then some. He licks me and finger-fucks me and the noise of the shower and my heavy breathing fill the wet space. I’m close. So damn close.

  Yet he does the unthinkable and stops. The bastard actually eases my leg from over his shoulder and rises to his feet. What the ever-loving hell?

  “Thom,” I snarl.

  “You come with me in you. I want to feel that. I need it.”

  “But—”

  “Now, babe.”

  Not a bad idea, as ideas go. Though I’m still kind of whiny about him stopping. He lifts my leg over his hip and the head of his cock teases my entrance. I’m so primed after the display of his excellent oral abilities. This might be the shortest round of sex ever. But who the hell has time to mess around when I can have him inside of me?

  No slowing down, he slams his thick, rigid cock into my body. The shock of it jars me and yet feeds the fire building within. Every nerve ending in me is singing.

  “Christ. Thom.”

  “I really do like the way you say my name.” He withdraws before plunging back in. All of that thick, hard flesh stretching me inside in the best way possible. The top of his dick rubs against me in all the right places and I’m panting once more. And yet…

  “It’s definitely your real name?”

  “Elizabeth.” He keeps right on pumping into me, hard and fast. “Keep your mind on the job.”

  Hopefully my only job right now is to come. Because all I can do is hang on, my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. We fit together so perfectly. Like we were born for this. No killing or chaos or any of those things. Just being together, he and I.

  The man not so delicately, but with much talent, fucks me into a stupor. His magnificent cock lights me up from the inside. A wave of sensation rises inside of me, pushing me up onto my toes. I can’t get close enough. And I’m so damn greedy for more and more. Except right then my body draws tight, the wave crashing. Every muscle in my cunt spasms, trying to hold him deep within. I tremble and shake, and it’s sublime.

  Thom swears low and fierce while I just float. Thank goodness he’s holding me up. Also, lucky we’re already in the shower, given the exchange of bodily fluids going on. Coming on him is pretty damn spectacular. Feeling him empty inside of me. Just being this close.

  One thing is for certain, it’s good to be alive.

  “A bomb killed three of Mr. Adisa’s staff this morning.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” says a man’s voice. British and posh.

  The cell sits on the table, everyone gathered around in the basement room to listen. And everyone now includes Fox and Crow. I descend the steps quietly, trying not to interrupt. It’s early afternoon. Not much later than lunchtime. But after the mother of all nightmares, I know I won’t be getting any more sleep. My freshly laundered clothes sat on the end of the bed. Just as Thom promised. But back to the phone call…

  “Oh, it’s a good deal more than that,” corrects Helene. “On top of the kill squad you sent to my hotel room, Archie, I’d have to say your message has been well and truly received.”

/>   “I did try to sort this out peacefully first. Remember that, old girl.”

  Helene’s lips settle into a flat, furious line. “So I assume from all of this that you’re unwilling to back down from your insane plan to monetize the organization?”

  “You’re finally understanding.”

  “Very well. It’s obvious we can’t sway you, and I have little interest in having assassins sent after me. So I’m charged to act on behalf of Charles and myself as we both retire and leave things in your hands.” Helene’s chin rose. “Is that agreeable to you?”

  Archer cleared his throat. “It is. This is most…unexpected. I didn’t think either of you would be willing…at any rate. Yes, that’s very agreeable to me.”

  “Charles and I are both getting older, and I have no heir apparent. We both feel that with the good work we’ve done over the years, bowing out now is not entirely intolerable. The responsibility for the committee’s new direction will therefore be yours alone.”

  “I’m delighted to hear you’ve come to your senses.”

  “Indeed. I trust you’ve had the documentation prepared to handle the transfer of power?”

  “Yes, I have,” the man all but purred. “Where are you now? I’d be delighted to hand-deliver them myself. There’s no need for more of this dreadful hostility between us.”

  Helene sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. “Oh, Archie. You can’t believe I’m going to make it quite that easy. You always were rather spoiled. Now I may be willing to bow out, but it was only last night that you were trying to kill me. It was all rather upsetting. Forgive me my foibles; pettiness is such an ugly emotion. And yet, I do believe I’ll allow you to locate me on your own. If you can…”

  He laughed. “Very well. Let’s decide now on the amount of security to accompany each of us to this event, hmm? I’d hate for there to be any last-minute misunderstandings.”

  “Send three of your people to deliver the papers, and I’ll have two of mine here. But you don’t get to come, Archie.” Her voice hardens. “That’s my condition. If I must sign over my life’s work, I will not suffer through your gloating while I do it. At this point, I’ll count it as a victory if I never have to see your face again.”