His Devil's Heat

by Linzi Basset

  Adam’s face turned white when Vito handed him the mirror again.

  “I needed a body for Adam Baxter. It shouldn’t take a genius to deduce whose I used. A glance in the mirror is all you need.”

  “No! You can’t be serious!”

  “Oh, but I am. I want the Sixth Order, and you, are going to help me get it.”

  Adam stared after the two men as they left the room. His mind was blank. He couldn’t believe that everything he had worked so hard to achieve in life had crashed and burned around him. All his carefully laid out plans to ensure he could achieve his ultimate aim—become the leader of the Sixth Order. Now, just when he’d reached the final stage of his plan, it blew up in his face. He wanted to be more powerful than Vito Vitale and as director of the CIA and leader of the Sixth Order, he would’ve had double strength. He would’ve been unstoppable. His strategy to infiltrate Vito’s regime had been the first step.

  But Adam had underestimated the Don. He had turned the wheel in his favor with a finality that broke Adam’s resolve. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.

  Once again they’d won. Rhone, Keon and Ace. All of them had done him one better. Vito Vitale might have the upper hand for the moment but nothing was going to keep him, Adam Baxter, from taking revenge. They will suffer. Come what may. Vito Vitale included.

  His lips curled downward as he stared at the reflection in the mirror. He was once again back where he’d started so many years ago. A lackey for others. Only this time, he was going to be the one pulled apart. He stared at himself, hating the face that returned his cold stare. A man, ten years older than he was.

  Damian Whittaker.

  * * * * * * * *

  “I lost my way, Keon. No, don’t give me that look. You know it’s true. The way I’ve treated Samantha, god, I cringe at some of the things I said and did to her—it’s so unlike me. I’ve always, fucking always, taken care of a sub’s needs. I totally fucked up. Ruark would have my head if he knew.”

  Rhone paced his office in the Precision Secure building. He’d been on tenterhooks since Samantha had been released from the hospital a week ago. His guilt was eating away at him. He needed to get it out in the open, which was why he reached out to the only man who understood him—Keon. He noticed Keon’s expression shift and shook his head as he tapped his pockets, unconsciously seeking refuge in a smoke.

  “Fuck, on days like these I wish I could smoke again.” Rhone ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know, none of us trusted her, but I was so blinded by guilt of the part I played in Amelia's death that I couldn't see Samantha for the person she really is.” He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. “There I go again, making excuses. I didn't even give her the benefit of the doubt for fucks sake!”

  “None of us did, Rhone and let’s be honest, the circumstances were totally fucked up. Look at what I did. I still can’t believe I almost strangled Samantha. I’ve never lost control over my anger like I did that day. We’ve both suffered because of Amelia’s death and what we believed, Beckie’s, at the time. It blinded us and our actions were driven by that. We saw a way to atone for our own guilt in her —”

  “My guilt, Keon. I’m the one responsible.”

  Keon shook his head. “No, Chuck, neither one of us were. I know that now. It’s time to stop blaming ourselves for the decisions we made on that day. Nothing would have changed the way it ended. There’s only one person to blame and we both know it’s neither of us.”

  “Adam Baxter,” Rhone said in a strangled voice, still overcome upon hearing Keon call him the nickname he’d given him when they were ten years old and stopped using the day Amelia had died.

  “The one and only.”

  The rest of the team rushed through the door after a brief knock, Lance in the lead.

  “You need to see this,” he barked as he switched on the wall mounted television. The scene unfolded— a rescue team, fire brigade and police officers rushing around at the top of a cliff, overlooking a ball of fire blazing from below.

  “We’re here at the scene. As you can see, the vehicle is still burning because the fire truck is unable to get down the ravine safely.” The reporter approached the attending police official. “Excuse me officer, do you know who was in the vehicle?”

  He shook his head, clearly irritated at the reporter. “We’ve not been able to identify the deceased man yet,” he barked shortly and rushed away.

  “From the number of CIA officials I can only assume he was instructed not to say anything. We also noticed that the CIA murder investigation team arrived a couple of minutes ago, which means they are looking into a possible homicide. Wait, let me see if I can get some answers from the deputy director of the CIA,” he said as he rushed toward a suited man talking to the chief of police.

  “Excuse me, DD Solomon, can you tell us who was in that vehicle?”

  “We’re still looking into it. At the moment we are trying to contain the situation as best we can without causing panic.”

  “Why would there be panic? Is there something you’re not telling us?” The reporter kept pushing for answers. Snippets of ‘organized crime’ from nearby officials were overheard. “It seems you do know who the victim was, DD Solomon and based on the high attendance of CIA officials, I’d say it’s one of your own, am I correct?”

  “Look—”

  “It’s him, Deputy Director of NCS. We just confirmed the number plates. The man inside the vehicle was Adam Baxter.”

  Deputy Director Solomon glared at the young CIA official for blurting out the information on live television.

  “Bullshit!” Max exploded. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

  “Neither do I,” Rhone said contemplatively. “Especially if he’s supposedly burned to ashes. With the amount of heat and flames still generating from the vehicle, it must have been petrol and C4 base explosive. There’ll be nothing left of the body. Get over there, Lance. Take Jack and Max with you and see what you can find out. Max, get Richard to start scanning the satellites in the meantime, to see if he can pick up on the actual scene before the vehicle exploded.”

  “On it,” Max said and strode outside with the other two on his heels.

  “He’s trying to dodge us. He fucking knows we won’t stop until he’s dead,” Keon said with suppressed violence. “No fucking way is anyone going to take the pleasure of ripping his head off his useless body from me. Do you hear me, Rhone? I don’t believe for one second he’s dead.”

  “Calm down, Keon. We’ll get to the root of this. He’s not going to escape. He has a lot to atone for. For what he did to you, Samantha, Beckie and Lauren. We will get him, Keon. If he’s out there, he won’t escape us, no matter where he hides.”

  “He probably thinks we’ll drop our guard and he’ll be able to get to them again. But this time, we’re on to him. I will protect my daughter and Lauren with my last breath, if it comes to that.”

  Rhone stared at Keon, wondering if he even realized what he had just admitted. It seems the little redhead sister of his sub had already managed to squeeze into Keon’s heart without him knowing.

  Chapter Seven

  “I need to get back to my teaching job, Keon. I can’t just sit around all day,” Lauren protested loudly but realized she might just as well have spoken to the wall for the amount of attention he gave her. “And Beckie has to go to school. She’s already lost three weeks’ worth of work.”

  “We will enroll her at the St. Agnes Upper School. It’s in Alexandria which is just across the Potomac river. The security there is topnotch.”

  “It will be difficult for her to adapt to a different school and make new friends, Keon. Can’t we at least finish the term at—”

  “No. Beckie isn’t going to be at risk again, Lauren and that’s final. She’s most definitely not going back to Charlottesville. You, on the other hand are welcome to pack up and leave.” He pinned her in place with stare. “Or stay. Either way, I don’t care, but my daughter remain
s with me.”

  “Well, I guess that puts me in place,” she snapped. The way she attacked the tomato she was slicing made Keon wince.

  “I hope it’s not my nuts you’re envisioning chopping up,” he said drily.

  She waved the knife in front of his face. “Your nuts are safe but I can’t guarantee certain dangling bits,” she quipped.

  “Ah, now we get to the real reason for your bratty attitude the past week. Want more? Of my . . . dangling bits?”

  Whack! Whack!

  The knife slammed into the wooden board with force. Bits of tomatoes flew all across the counter.

  “All you had to do was ask, Red.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. The way you flaunted yourself with those subs last weekend . . . let’s just say, you seem to be spreading your favors too wide for my taste.”

  Keon’s eyebrows lifted, a sign of his amusement at her flustered look. He’d noticed how she’d glared at him throughout the two nights. He had exulted in it. To be honest, he’d acted like a jerk; flirting and scening with three subs, avoiding getting too close to Lauren. She’d rattled him too much the weekend before. He even took one sub to a private room but once they got there, the desire to fuck her had abated. All he could see were her flashing blue eyes and wild red hair while he’d had her pinned against the wall.

  “You believe I fucked them?”

  “Well, you disappeared for long periods of time and they seemed highly satisfied when you returned, so, yeah, I do.”

  Whack! Whack!

  This time the poor cucumber was the victim and the way she sliced through it, made Keon step back, especially when her lips turned up in a grin.

  “Easy there, Red. I should warn you a man without a dick isn’t worth much to a sensual woman such as you.”

  “Maybe so but at least I’ll be able to—” She bit back the words and glared at him. It wouldn’t do to admit that the thought of him having sex with other women had caused her sleepless nights. “How did we get from me going back to work, to cutting off your . . . your—” She stammered as she looked up to find his amused gaze watching her every move.

  “Dangling bits, I believe you called them,” he offered drily.

  “You think I’m a sensual woman?” she asked when she belatedly recalled what he’d said.

  Keon glanced at her. Adam Baxter was a fucking useless prick.

  “Yeah, kinda pretty too,” he admitted.

  The knife raised higher. Her eyes narrowed. “Kinda pretty? I’m a grown woman, LeLuc. A teenager is pretty. A woman is beautiful or attractive. But thanks,” Whack! Whack! “At least now I know what you think of me.”

  Keon instinctively caught the piece of cucumber that flew toward his face. He popped it in his mouth and smiled broadly.

  “That’s four.”

  “Four what?” She frowned while she scooped the diced tomatoes and cucumber into a salad bowl, realizing that they were chopped so finely it might as well be a salsa, not a salad, she was preparing. Then she remembered and looked up. His eyes shone like emeralds. He was obviously enjoying this encounter way too much for her liking.

  “Oh, hell no. One of the things I read in the material you gave me is that once punishment has been given, a sub’s misdemeanor is forgiven. You can’t add to the count after that!”

  “I can’t? Should I remind you, my pet, that the punishment you received was for disrespecting me in public and we never got around to punishing you for disregarding a direct order.” He broke off a piece of the warm Ciabatta bread she’d just taken out of the oven and bit into it. “Hmm, tasty. If I recall, you seduced me into fucking you instead, so—”

  “I did no such . . . you are . . . look here, LeL . . . I mean Keon, what happened was . . . you—”

  “Yeah, it was kinda explosive, I have to admit. You pack quite a punch with that small body of yours, Red. Quite a punch.”

  Lauren gaped at him but he ignored her while he reached for the bread to break off another piece.

  Crack!

  “Don’t you touch it. It’s for dinner . . . Keon, no. What are you . . . LeLuc! Lemme go,” she shrieked and tried to break free from his hold but it was a fruitless effort. He dragged her up against his chest with ridiculous ease.

  “Did you just slap my hand, Lauren?” He asked in a deep voice. His eyes were heated but she detected a hint of amusement flickering in their depths.

  “Well, you can’t just . . . Keon, stop! We’re in the kitchen,” she whispered.

  “Do you always state the obvious, Red?” He dragged her hands behind her back and clamped them in his fist.

  Lauren’s breathing escalated as she watched him unbutton her shirt until it gaped open to expose her breasts straining against the dark blue, lace bra she was wearing.

  “Keon . . . Beckie,” she protested. “Ohmmm!”

  Keon brushed his palm over her nipples, watching them turn into hard little stones.

  “I’ve been wondering how these little nubs will feel on my tongue.” His eyes lifted to watch hers turn smoky. He rolled and pinched one nipple, then the other between his fingers. “How about you, Red? Want to feel my lips sucking on them?”

  “I . . . we can’t do thismmm, oh lord, Keon. Please,” she whimpered as he pushed the cups of her bra down to bare her breasts. They felt swollen and the tips tingled with every touch of his fingers.

  “Please what, Lauren?”

  “I . . . yes, I want to feel your mouth on them,” she admitted breathlessly. Her moan echoed in the large room when he leaned down and pulled a nipple deep into his mouth, sucking gently, then hard before he nibbled teasingly on them.

  Lauren turned to putty in his hands, not even noticing when he released her wrists to bend her back over his arm. He sucked, licked and nibbled on her nipples like he was feasting on some succulent delicacy.

  The darned rogue unloosened something savage that soared inside her; that poked her lust, awakening it to crawl like a thief in the night. It overran her otherwise inert libido in a surprise attack and stole away her control.

  “Keon,” she sighed. Every hard pull of his lips on her nipples caused a surge of heat to set her clitoris throbbing with need.

  Lauren was so enraptured that she didn’t hear the clattering of footsteps as Beckie came running down the stairs. One moment she was bent over backwards and the next she was hanging onto the counter behind her to keep herself upright. She blinked but couldn’t see past Keon’s wide back.

  “Ready for dinner, poppet?” He asked in a tender voice he used when he spoke to Beckie.

  Lauren’s gasp made him chuckle, which turned to laughter when she slapped him on the back for not warning her. She frantically buttoned up her shirt.

  “I’m dying of hunger, Daddy, and the smell of mom’s delicious lasagna brought me downstairs. How long before we eat?” Beckie asked as she jumped onto one of the high breakfast nook chairs.

  “Nearly ready,” Lauren managed to choke. She opened the cold tap and held her hands under the running water before patting her wet palms briefly over her cheeks to try and bring her flaming face under control.

  “We need to talk about school, Beckie,” Keon said. He sat down next to her and allowed her long hair to fall through his fingers. He still couldn’t believe that his little girl was back in his life.

  “Daddy, I don’t want to go back to Charlottesville. Please don’t make me go back there,” she pleaded. Tears filled her eyes.

  “I have no intention of letting you go anywhere, my darling. You are back with me and this is your house now. But, you’ve missed weeks of school already.”

  “What about the school Uncle Jim’s twins are at? We’ve become very good friends and I like them. And I’ve met some of their friends too. Please, Daddy,” she asked cajolingly.

  Keon felt a rush of loss overwhelm him. All the years he’d missed; all the little things, childlike manipulations, fulfilling his child’s wishes. How he would have loved to be a part of that. He shook th
e feeling off. It was over and he needed to move on. Get over the chapter his life had been the past six years. It was time to look ahead, turn a new page.

  “Exactly what I wanted to propose, poppet. It’s one of the best private schools in the area and I would be comfortable about your safety as well.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you think he’ll come back? Can he, Daddy? Can he take me away from you again?” Her voice had turned into a whimper.

  Keon hadn’t told Lauren and Beckie about the supposed death of Adam Baxter. And he wasn’t going to, not until he was assured of it himself.

  He hugged her tight and kissed her on her forehead. “No, my little darling, never again. He will never have the opportunity to come near you. I’ve had the fence electrified all around and there are security cameras everywhere. Rhone and I have also linked our home security systems with the satellite feed to Precision Secure. If anyone sets as much as a toe on the premises, we’ll know.”

  She lowered her lashes and peeked through them at Keon. “And Mommy? What about her? Are you going to make her leave?”

  Keon noticed Lauren’s hands still. He swore that both of them were holding their breath. He had seen every day how Lauren fought with the demons inside her. How she struggled to keep them hidden from those around her, especially Beckie. She had suffered as much as he; differently, but in more ways than one, she’d become a modern slave in a world created by a demented man. She kept the deviousness, of what she’d had to endure, trapped in her own head. She didn’t complain about what Adam had done to her for sympathy and for that, she’d gained his respect. She stoically kept the memories locked inside her. For her own sake, he hoped that one day she’d find a safe way to let those feelings out, before they completely destroyed her chances at happiness.

  At first, he’d resented Lauren for the part she’d played in Beckie’s life but he was over it. His daughter had been blessed to have had such a selfless person to protect, love and care for her. And from little snippets Lauren had let slip, he realized to what extent Lauren must have gone to keep Beckie safe. For that, he’d be forever grateful.