“You mean you didn't have time to drag me down the hall, tie me up, and get my shirt off to see if I was wearing a wire before I woke up,” I grunt, my mouth fuzzy. “What did you hit me with?”
“Well, let's see. If you can feel it, you've got another little bump in your other thigh, I shot you in your left side, so what do you think?” Isis asks playfully. “I taught you a lot about chemicals in the months we worked together.”
“Etorphine,” I reply, hissing as I feel the spot where she injected the antidote into my other leg. “No wonder you wanted to work fast, getting the counteragent. You could have killed me.”
“What I really wanted was something that would work quickly, but also fade just as quickly. So sodium thiopental wasn't on the menu, and ketamine... well, I've never really liked Special K. And let us not get into what fentanyl would do to you. No thank you,” Isis says conversationally, as if discussing the potentially fatal side effects of various drugs is something she does on a daily basis. “By the way, you're looking fit. No problem with your kidneys?”
“What do you know?” I ask, curious.
“I know that Vadim Orloff cut you, he wouldn’t have reported your death to Peter without injuring you. While I hate the Russians, he and I worked together sometimes, I know what he put on his blades. One of the side effects of it is a lot of stress on the kidneys. He was a very nasty man.”
“That he was. You know, speaking of nasty, you weren't exactly polite to Margaret. Why?”
Isis shrugs and reaches for the hem of her camisole top, thinking she’s teasing me a little by lifting it up, exposing her mid-section. “I needed a way to distract you. I knew you were coming, she was pliable under the Sodium Pentothal. But I also knew I only had a second at most to act, you're too professional to have skipped that bathroom. So the Colombian necktie was a bit of last minute improvisation to get your focus. Peter would approve, he's paying me more the messier each death is.”
Behind my back, I start sliding my wrists slowly, trying to find a weakness in the rope. Expert sniper, yes. Good with pharmacology, for sure. Kinky ass nymphomaniac? Check. But Isis has never been as good as I am with fieldcraft, and I can feel she's made a mistake. The edge of the cabinet is sharp, maybe some sort of Formica that's a little worn, and she used what feels like a cotton rope. Okay, keep her talking.
“If he is paying you by the body count, why not just put a round in me and be done with it?” I ask after seeing she's not holding a gun in her hands. Instead, Isis pulls her cami up a little more, and I swear she's trying to seduce me. But it’s not going to work.
“Oh, many reasons, Nathan,” Isis purrs, spreading her legs and closing them. She's definitely trying to seduce me for some fucked up reason. “The first is that you’re not one of Peter's main targets. If I can eliminate the other six members of your little group, or five and can deliver the baby girl to him alive and safe, I’ll have satisfied him. You, well, you I can deliver or not deliver. If given the choice, I would rather not.”
I feel one of the knots on my left wrist loosen and I'm sure if I can keep Isis talking, I have a chance to escape soon. “Why not?”
Isis shrugs, pulling her top up to reveal her lacy bra. I guess she thinks it’s working. She couldn’t be more wrong. “Nathan, would you believe me if I said I regret shooting you in the ass last time?”
“Not really, considering I'm reminded of you every time I look in the mirror, but go ahead,” I reply, twisting my wrists back and forth. “You seemed to enjoy shooting me if I remember correctly.”
“At the time I did,” Isis admits, “but later, and for years, I have missed your... skills. I never have found a lover as enthusiastic or as satisfying as you in the time since, especially how good you are with your tongue. It’s a work of art. So there is that. And of course, because I’m looking for your friends as well. Wherever you've stashed them, you've done a remarkable job so far of keeping those fuckers safe.”
“You are still a foul-mouthed slut,” I retort, trying to piss her off. If I can, she won't notice me getting ready to break my arm free... there! Now, the right hand, don't rush now. “Besides, what makes you think I haven't found better than you? Many, many women better than you?”
Isis leans back and laughs, unbuttoning her slacks and pushing them down her long legs, revealing her lace panties to me. “Oh, I think when I get down on my knees and take that cock of yours out of your jeans, I’m sure you'll remember all the things you whispered to me. I did things that even Aisha never even thought of. You may have called out her name sometimes, I never faulted you for that, but you begged for my touch just as much, if not more. It'll happen again.”
“Not a chance in hell,” I growl, yanking my right hand free. I'd hoped to catch her by surprise, but the drugs must still be somewhere in my system, because her reactions are faster than I expect. My punch crashes into the edge of the bed as Isis rolls back, and I look up just in time to catch the heel of a foot in my cheek. Guess I'm lucky she wanted to try and fuck me before I broke free, since I don't want to imagine what her normal stiletto heels would do to my face.
Groaning, I roll, and she’s is on top of me, scratching at my chest and ripping furrows in my skin. “Oooh, lover, a kinky side I haven't seen from you before,” she teases. “Now, you're going to tell me where your friends are, or else I make it very, very painful for all of them.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, grabbing her hand and twisting. She rolls with it, off of me but catching me in the thigh with her elbow as she rolls behind the bed. I know what she's doing and run for the window, diving through and hoping my forearms and the curtain are enough to protect me from the worst of the glass as I crash through just as she comes up, a Walther PPK in her hand. She fires once, the round whizzing just past my ear as I scramble up and to my right. I see we're on the second floor now but I can see the truck, and I'm glad I left the keys inside.
As I run down the stairs I can't focus as Isis comes out of the room and I dive down the last five stairs, my body aching as my hip bangs into the concrete as I roll. Something crunches under my hip as I climb to my feet again and run for the truck. I'm bleeding, I'm aching, but I'm alive. I can't worry about Isis having a firing angle on me, I just run my ass off, hoping that I can cover the distance before she shoots again.
I'm either lucky or someone's looking over me as I get into Carson's truck without catching another bullet from Isis, being shot in the ass by her once in my life is enough. I start she the engine and jam the gas pedal to the floor, knowing Isis has to be executing her egress plan as well. Thankfully, my prints were permanently altered long ago via skin grafts. So the cops won't be able to identify me that way.
Driving away, I quickly blend with traffic, doing my best to not stand out at all once I'm three blocks away. Carson's going to hate me for this, but I know there are traffic cameras in the area. Carson's truck is going to need to disappear quickly.
I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone, groaning when it comes out cracked and broken. Well, at least I know now the sound wasn't my hip, but I'm now shirtless, bleeding, without a spare t-shirt, driving a truck that needs to be destroyed ASAP... and I don't have a fucking phone.
And the bitch has my favorite pistol. For some reason, that more than anything else pisses me off. “Okay, Isis. You got this one. Just wait for round two.”
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa
I've slept less than two hours in the past two days, unable to get my mind to shut down after Katrina told us about the police finding Margaret's body at the Magnolia Inn and Suites. Both times, I had to have Andrea or Carson lie down with me, but I woke up in less than an hour, worried sick.
Now I'm sitting in the woods on the rock that overlooks the valley below us, praying with all my heart that Nathan's actually okay. I hear crunching on the ground behind me, and I see Carson's joined me. “Hey, just wanted to make sure you're okay.”
“I will be. Once Nathan's back,” I tell him, loo
king back down over the valley. “I just need to see his face, to feel his hands. I need to know for sure.”
Carson sighs and sits down on the rock next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. “He will be. Jackson already went down to town and spoke with him on his new phone, and you read his e-mail at least three times. He's just having to take some extra time to make sure that his tail is clear.”
“You're pissed about your truck, aren't you?” I ask, and Carson shakes his head. “Really?”
“Really. It was just a truck, 'Lissa. And I can understand why Nathan had to get rid of it too. I just want him back safe.”
I give Carson a look, nervous. “Really?”
I feel like I'm just repeating myself, but Carson smiles and pats my leg. “Of course. I saw it in the way you kissed him goodbye, and it just took me a smack in the head from Andrea to realize the truth. I'm sorry about that.”
“Ma'am,” I say, and Carson looks up, startled. “Well?”
He chuckles, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “I'm sorry, ma'am. And if you ever have me call you that again I'm so gonna not be happy.”
“If I ever have you call me that again, then you've done something really stupid and I'm not happy either,” I remind him, smiling. “I love you, Carson. And regardless of what happens between me and Nathan, I need you in my life. You and Andrea both.”
Carson goes to answer, but his words are cut off as we hear the sound of an approaching truck engine. I look back, my eyes wide with excitement. “Nathan!”
“Sounds like a big engine,” Carson notes as we jog back toward the compound. I don't really care as I pick up speed, running hard over the last fifty yards or so before I come into the open area close to the house, and then around to the front where I see everyone else already gathered.
Nathan's new truck is bigger than Carson's old Ford, and I can see Jackson already running an appreciative hand over the rumbling hood. “Whoa man, I think I'll let you wreck our van next.”
“Very funny,” Nathan groans, sliding out of the seat. He nearly collapses, and I grab him, holding him up.
“I've got you,” I tell him, holding him up. His skin is blanched white, he's burning with fever, and his breath rasps in his throat. His face is splotchy, with red circles under his eyes and on his cheeks, scaring me silly. “What happened?”
“Infection,” Nathan hisses, coughing. “Caught a couple of scratches.”
“Come on, let's get you inside,” I tell him, grateful when Katrina comes over and takes his other arm, putting it over her shoulder. “Get you some rest.”
“Sounds good,” Nathan rasps before coughing again. “I missed you.”
“I missed you,” I inform him, finding enough strength somehow to help him inside. “Come, let's get you down and to bed.”
Nathan collapses into bed as soon as Katrina and I lay him down, sweat dotting his forehead even though it's chilly in his room. “Come on, let's get him stripped down, his shirt is soaked,” I tell Katrina, who nods and begins unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing. “He's burning up.”
“I'll send Jackson and Carson to town, they can get some medicine,” Katrina says as we peel back the shirt to reveal four angry red scratches on his chest. “Ouch, he got tagged good.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask nervously, and Katrina nods.
“He'll be fine. Best guess is, he pushed himself to exhaustion, trying to cover his tracks and get out safely. He needs sleep, some decent food, and the most important, medicine,” Katrina says, helping me with his pants and stripping him down to his boxer shorts.
“What's that?” I ask, and Katrina chuckles. “Penicillin?”
“He needs some TLC. Think you can provide that?” Katrina asks.
I nod, yawning. “That I can do.”
The sun is down when I wake up, and the first thing I see is Nathan's eyes looking at me, tender and loving. “Welcome back.”
“How long was I asleep?” I ask him, and he smiles, kissing my forehead.
“We both have been out about twelve hours. I woke up earlier and used the toilet, and Katrina got me two pills and some soup,” he says quietly. I notice he's still holding me though, and I feel warm and protected. “But I told her I needed some more bed rest and came back.”
“Everyone has questions,” I say. His fever is gone, and under my hands his skin feels smooth and amazing. “Although I think Carson's happy with his new truck.”
“Used, actually, but I hope he is,” Nathan says, his fingers stroking up and down my back. “But their questions can wait until morning.”
“I understand. You must be exhausted still,” I whisper, stopping when Nathan shakes his head. “What?”
“She had a gun on me,” Nathan says, his hands still stroking my back. “And what I saw... I don't want to remember. When I was running, Isis shooting at me, I could only think of one thing.”
“What?” I ask, unable to breathe under the intense fire in his eyes.
“You,” he whispers. “Being with Isis, I was reminded how... just how dirty she made me feel. Running away, thinking of you, I could only think that with you. You make me feel... clean.”
Nathan lowers his lips to mine, and we kiss, tender at first, but with growing intensity. His hands clutch at me more strongly, and at the first touch of his tongue on my lips, I open to him, warm tingles running down my body. Nathan rolls, pulling me on top of him in the narrow bed, my body burning as I press against him.
“'Lissa,” Nathan whispers as he kisses to my neck, his lips tracing my throat and causing me to moan. I've never felt this, it's amazing, and better than any dream or fantasy I could have ever imagined. Nathan's hands lift the back of my t-shirt and caress my back, each thrilling pressure a world I've never explored before. My body is waking up, warmth filling me between my legs, and I gasp when he kisses to the hollow of my neck, my hands grabbing the rail of the bed above our heads.
“I’m so glad you came back to me,” I whisper, sitting up to look down at him. The scratches on his chest have faded from an ugly red to a light pink, and I trace them, tears coming to my eyes, along with a deep anger. “Did that bitch do this to you?”
Nathan nods, but takes my hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing my fingertips. “It doesn't matter now. 'Lissa... I know now what I want to do.”
“What?” I ask, and Nathan swallows deeply.
“I want to stay with you the rest of my life. And I don’t want to hold back anymore.”
There's no words needed and I nod, reaching down and pulling my t-shirt over my head, followed by my bra. I'm nervous at first for some reason, I've never been nervous about showing my body before, but this time, I want Nathan to approve of what he sees.
I shouldn't have worried, as Nathan smiles, and between my legs, I feel a growing firm pressure as he hardens underneath me. I slide my hips a little and he moans lightly, more of a deep hum in his chest. It feels wonderful, and I do it again, echoing him this time. “Nathan,” I gasp, realizing what it is I'm feeling.
“I know,” he says. “And anytime you want to stop... we stop. No pressure.”
He brings his right hand up and strokes my face with his fingers, his eyes still burning with intensity.
“No more regrets,” I reply. His thumb brushes against my nipple and I gasp, electricity jolting through me as my body wakes up. My hips move again, Nathan sitting up and kissing me again before he trails his lips down my throat, capturing my nipple in between his lips.
I'm in heaven as I feel his hardness between my legs and his mouth sucking on my breast, his hands supporting my back as I hold onto his neck, pulling harder and harder with every nibble and lick of his tongue on my stiff, aching nipple. “Good, so good,” I moan thickly, lost in a haze of desire. “I never knew how good.”
“It gets better,” Nathan promises me, lifting his head from my chest and looking me in the eye.
I get off the bed and push my jeans and panties down, my former shyness replaced by
desire and a feeling of power. Nathan, the strongest, and maybe the deadliest man I'll ever know, wants me. He wants to protect me and love me. And he desires me. These thoughts run around and around in my head as I stand here, watching with a growing hunger as he pushes his boxers down and takes them off, showing me his entire body.
He's beautiful. Even the scars that cross his body are sexy to me, and my eyes fix on what I see rising from between his legs. He's hard, and while I don't have anything personally to compare it to, he looks perfect. I feel hollow inside, between my legs where nothing has ever been before, and I want to be filled.
Nathan smiles and reaches out with one hand, taking my fingers and tugging me to the bed. He pulls me down on top of him, another jolt of pleasure going through me when I feel him pressed between us, hard and warm, “for your first time, at least at first, you climb on top.”
I nod and kiss him again, our tongues wrapping around each other, fresh thrills of anticipation and happiness going through me. I reach down and take him in my hand, lifting my hips while we kiss, amazed at how warm he feels, and how he's both soft as velvet and steel-hard at the same time.
I pause, feeling him at my entrance, and stop our kiss to look him in the eye. There's no going back from this point, but seeing the look on his face, the love in his eyes, I don't need to hesitate at all. I lower my hips slowly, feeling him ever so slowly spread me open.
Suddenly it's too much, too tight and I lift up, a warm thrill going through me as I do. I hum, lowering my hips again. The feeling grows as he goes in a little deeper before there's pain again and I lift up, my lip trembling it feels so good. “Mmm, so nice.”
Retribution: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Secrets & Lies Book 3) Page 12