Twisted Honor (Deep Six Security Series, #2)

by Becky McGraw

  Before Taylor left here, she would know his full name because she needed a reference. Since she hadn’t worked with Dave Logan, that would be him. That would give her a reason to ask Mac and Dex to see if they knew.

  Maybe she’d also use it as an opening too, to see if she could find out what was in his craw, as Caleb said. Slade had changed directions with her so quickly, gone from scorching hot to freezing cold in a minute, either he was a cold-hearted unfeeling, cowardly bastard, or something had upset him.

  Taylor walked into his bedroom and avoided looking at the big bed as she made her way to the bath. She’d take a long hot shower, and maybe she’d feel better. If he had no hot water when he got back, that was too bad too sad. It would be his punishment for being an insensitive asshole. He could just go to the barracks shower.

  The steam was so thick in the shower she could barely see the knob to turn it off when the water went tepid. Her muscles felt loose and Taylor felt energized as she slid the door open and stepped out of the shower. Scrubbing herself with the loofa for what seemed like an hour had finally made her feel clean again. With a heavy sigh, she jerked the fluffy towel down from the hook and wrapped it around herself then tucked in the end. She went to the vanity, and pulled down another towel and wrapped it around her wet hair.

  Whether Slade liked it or not, she was going to need a toothbrush soon. Finger-brushing her teeth with toothpaste only went so far. Maybe she’d just use his damned toothbrush, she thought, walking to the vanity where it lay. Her hand closed around it, but she heard voices in the bedroom and froze.

  It was too soon for them to have run ten miles wasn’t it?

  Taylor crept to the door to press her ear against it and she definitely heard a man and a woman’s voice. When Cee Cee laughed, she knew it was her in there. The only man she’d be in there with would be Slade. She turned and put her back against the door.

  God, was she going to be trapped in here and have to listen to them have sex?

  That would be the ultimate humiliation. Sickness boiled in her stomach and she put a hand there. She’d just get back in the shower and turn on the cold water so she didn’t have to listen if that happened. Turning back to the door, she pressed her ear to the wet wood again.

  “I told you to stretch. You should’ve stretched,” Cee Cee said.

  “Shut the hell up,” Slade ground out.

  “I’ll go get you an ice pack and some Ben Gay, old man,” she offered.

  “I don’t need a fucking ice pack. Just leave me alone,” Slade growled, but then moaned loudly. “I’ll take a shower and it’ll be fine.”

  Taylor’s heart stopped beating, and she jerked back from the door. Her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide, but the only place to hide was the shower stall. Slade would come in there and she’d be busted.

  And she hadn’t left him any hot water either. He was going to be pissed.

  Taylor danced from foot to foot as she considered her options, and decided she had none. She leaned into the door again to see if they left and it opened, slamming into her. Bells went off in her skull as her forehead struck the door and she staggered backwards to sit on the toilet.

  “What in the fuck are you doing in here?” Slade shouted, and Taylor bent over holding her hand to her forehead, feeling the knot that had been going down swell again. Goddamn, before long she was going to look like a unicorn at the rate she was going.

  “Are you okay?” he asked in a softer tone, as he stopped in front of her.

  “You hit my forehead again, asshole,” she replied rocking. “I’m dizzy this time, so I may need to go to the hospital.” Not really, but at least that would get her out of here.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were behind the door.” His knees bent, but he hissed a breath and stood back up to knead his left thigh. “I can’t bend down to look. I pulled a quad and it hurts like a bitch. Stand up and let me look at it.”

  Taylor stood up, but she didn’t stop to let him look at it. “I don’t need you to help me. I’ll be fine,” she said, grabbing the door, but he grabbed her arm.

  “But I need you to help me,” he said, the rough timber of his voice exciting her. “I know you used all the hot water, so I can’t take a shower. I need you to rub out this cramp.”

  The thought of putting her hands on him again caused a shiver to rock her, but Taylor was mad at him. And she had more self-respect than to do it after the way he treated her. She didn’t want to help him, or touch him.

  “Get your girlfriend to do it,” she said, as she pulled the door open and walked out.

  In a limping gait, Slade followed her into the bedroom, but stopped to moan. “I don’t have a damned girlfriend,” he snarled, as he limped to the bed and sat down to knead his thigh. “I don’t do relationships remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. Get the flavor of the day to do it then.” Anger rushed up to her head, and the knot throbbed, as she walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob and twisted it violently.

  “Taylor, wait,” he said, and the pleading tone of his voice stopped her. “Please—I need you to help me.”

  Her hand gripped the knob so tightly her fingers went numb. She wanted so damned badly to walk out on him. Treat him as coldly as he had treated her. But she was a better person than that. No, she was a damned doormat, she thought, as she spun back to face him. She let any dirty bastard who wanted to wipe his feet on her do it. Slade had only changed his attitude toward her, because he needed something from her. That was going to change, just not right at this moment. Clenching her jaw, Taylor walked to the nightstand grabbed the bottle of baby oil and pointed her finger at him.

  “Take your shorts off and lay back,” she commanded, and he leaned back on his elbows, hooked his thumbs in his waistband then shoved them down.

  “Ow, owwww,” he moaned when he lifted his leg to push them past his knees.

  With a huffed breath, Taylor grabbed them and yanked them down, bent and pulled them off over his running shoes. When she raised back up, red lip prints caught her gaze and she gasped. He had on the underwear she told him she liked.

  He wore them for Cee Cee.

  Ice water flowed through her veins as Taylor dragged her eyes up his body, trying not to take inventory of every tight muscle, but she failed. Her eyes met his, and the heat she saw there sent moisture flowing south in her body.

  “Why’d you do it, little bit?” he asked, and his voice sounding tortured, regretful.

  What in the hell was he talking about?

  “You asked me to help you, remember?” she replied, thinking maybe he hit his head too.

  His eyes narrowed. “You know what I’m talking about,” he said in a harsher tone. “The gig’s up, Taylor. Just tell me, and we’ll figure it out.”

  “I hit my head again, so I might be a little slow. I have no idea what the heck you’re talking about, Slade, so why don’t you tell me.”

  He sat up and huffed a breath. “Why did you plant that bomb on Ahmed Khalil’s car? Who are you working with?”

  Shock slammed into her taking her breath as she staggered back clutching the bottle of oil. Maybe he’d hit his head and was not coherent. That is the only explanation she could find as to why this man would think she had tried to kill Prince Khalil. That she had the wherewithal and evilness necessary to try and kill a person. With a bomb!

  “Are you insane?!?” she shrieked hoarsely, trying to wrap her mind around what he thought.

  “I was wondering the same about you,” he replied calmly, pinning her with is eyes. Those eyes told her that is what he really believed. That he not only thought she was capable of doing it, she’d done it. “Who are you working with, Taylor? Let’s just end this.”

  “I’m trying to work with you, asshole, to figure out who did this. Who both the bomber and the kidnappers are. You know damned well I was with you that night, so there’s no way I could’ve planted that bomb.”

  “I’m not talking about that night. I’m tal
king about during the day before the bombing. Dex has video footage that shows you planting the bomb.”

  “Well Dex must’ve manufactured it then,” Taylor growled, her mind swirling with anger and disbelief as she took two steps toward the bed. Her hands shook as she uncapped the oil. “And I think the cogs in that brilliant investigative mind of yours must be rusty.”

  Taylor’s hands shook as she lifted the bottle over his head and squeezed it with both hands. Slade gasped, and the bottle gurgled as a stream of oil slithered over his face into his eyes, and he fought to rub it out. When he stopped rubbing to blindly reach for her, Taylor stepped out of his reach, turned and headed for the door.

  She yanked the towel from her hair and tossed it and the empty bottle to the floor, realizing as she walked out the door she only wore a towel. Her rage was so complete, Taylor didn’t give a damn that all she wore was a towel. She was going to find the computer geek and choke the answers out of him, buck naked if she had to!

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Doubt flooded Slade, as he grabbed the edge of the sheet to wipe the oil from his face. Was there another explanation for what he’d seen with his own eyes on that tape?

  Considering her violent reaction? He’d say there had to be.

  The muscle in his thigh knotted up as Slade pushed up to his feet. He fought through the pain to find his shorts and put them on. He had to get over to the office, because if Taylor got to Dex, hell was going to rain down on his head like it had Slade’s. He limped to the door, and gritted his teeth to lean down and jerk the towel up from the floor.

  It smelled like her when he brought it to his face and he groaned into it as he wiped the rest of the oil out of his eyes. He limped through the door, and hop-walked to the front door of the barracks. It took him ten minutes to get to the front porch of the office. By the time he did, his muscle was spasming and burning like fire. Jumping under his skin like it wanted out. The pain was intense, but he climbed the steps to the front door.

  When he opened the door, Lola barked, and Buddy yelped. The both must’ve followed Taylor out of his apartment to the office. That surprised him, because Lola usually never left his side. She didn’t follow anyone except him. It looked like everyone had deserted him, he thought sourly, as he walked inside.

  He limped to the hallway, and if the shouts he heard down the hall were any indication, Taylor was peeling Dexter’s skin off inch by inch. Slade had to get down there and settle things down before she went in for the kill. He needed Dex alive to figure out who had put the bomb on that car. Three agonizing minutes later, he leaned on the door jamb of Dexter’s office to catch his breath. He flinched when Taylor started in on a fresh round of fileting.

  “You claim to be a fucking genius, but you must need stronger glasses, butthead!” she shrieked, her chest heaving as she leaned in to glare at Dexter. He stood there and took it, looking ashamed. “If Mac can spot two men sitting in a car there, it seems you should have too! But nooo—you jumped to fucking conclusions and dragged Slade into your conspiracy theory too!”

  Mac stood beside Taylor looking uncomfortable and Cee Cee stood on her other side, wrapped in a towel too, looking as angry as Taylor was. Dexter just stood there staring at her, his shoulders slumped. When Taylor’s chest heaved with another breath and her mouth dropped open to start again, Slade walked into the office.

  “That’s enough,” he said, darkly, and Dexter’s eyes flew to his.

  “It’s about damned time!” Dex shouted, his face turning red.

  “Why are you angry with me?!?” Slade shouted back. So much for deescalating the situation he thought, moving to stand beside Cee Cee.

  “Because you are the one who decided not to ask her about it, dumbass. I just pointed out the issue, and I thought you’d talk to her about it, give her a chance to explain things.” Dexter pushed through the women to pin Slade with his glare. “But nooo—” he shouted, like Taylor had a moment ago to him. He pushed Slade’s chest and he stumbled back. “You just decided she was guilty and acted like an ass toward her!” Dexter leaned into his face. “You are an ass, and I don’t blame her for quitting!”

  Fear stretched Slade’s heart to his toes, before it snapped back up to quiver in his chest. His eyes flew to Taylor, but she wouldn’t look at him. He limped around Dexter and grabbed her arm. She jerked it out of his grasp, and her damned towel slipped to reveal the top of her dusky pink areolas. He reached out to pull it up, and she stepped back to adjust it.

  “Come with me to my office so we can talk, please,” he pleaded, as guilt flooded him.

  “Ooh, so now you want to talk?” Taylor snarled, her eyes snapping to his.

  “I think the device was remotely detonated,” Mac informed, stepping up to him. “There was a car at the back of the lot with two men in it. They sat there all day, and were there when it went off, then they left. Did anyone check the tapes for the day before?” Mac frowned and shook his head. “Never mind, that bomb could’ve been planted a week, a month before.”

  “So you don’t think the prince was the target?” Slade asked, his eyebrows raised. If the bomb was remotely detonated, the specific target would have been those guards, and that just didn’t make sense to him.

  “No, I think the guards were the targets,” Mac replied gruffly. “Someone wanted them out of the way. The kidnapping may have been to get Jaxson and Deep Six out of the picture, along with the ransom. It’s awfully strange that Taylor was fired that day too, don’t you think? Now, the prince is completely vulnerable. I can’t help but think that was the purpose.”

  Slade thought about that a minute, then a light bulb went off.

  “So you think the car bomb was to get rid of Ahmed’s protection to clear the way for them to kill him after they get the money?”

  “That’s exactly what I think,” Mac replied, with a nod.

  Mac’s theory was solid, and it made a helluva lot more sense than them killing the golden goose before they got the egg from him.

  “Cade Winters is trying to get in touch with you, he said he has some information,” Gray said walking into the office. “He tried to get in touch with you earlier, but said you didn’t answer your damned phone. His words.”

  “Cade Winters?” Cee Cee squeaked, and Slade looked over to see her face turn as white as the towel she had wrapped around her body.

  “And Hawk called and said to tell you they’re almost at the LZ, which I assume means landing zone. Looks like things are hopping at Deep Six this morning, and it’s not even eight o’clock yet,” Gray said, with a laugh that irritated Slade. “I got some interesting information for Cade yesterday too, so once your asshole unpuckers, come and see me.”

  Gray turned and walked away, and Slade’s asshole was indeed puckered as he stood there staring behind him. All the information he’d just received collided in his brain in a blinding flash, as he tried to figure out which issue he needed to deal with first. This being in charge shit was for the birds. He wanted his old life back, the one where the most he had to worry about was which woman he was having a drink with that night.

  “I’m going to kill Logan when he gets back,” he growled as he limped out of Dex’s office into the hallway. Turning back he pointed at Mac. “You get me answers on that employee list.”

  His eyes tracked to Cee Cee. “You go to my apartment and get me some clothes so I can take a fucking shower and get this oil off of me. Find my phone, it’s somewhere in the bedroom. And get me an ice pack, my damned leg is killing me.”

  His eyes swung to Dexter, who was standing there glaring at him with his arms folded over his chest. “You get me that information on the license plates. Find out who the fuck those men were in that vehicle—you have an hour.”

  Slade huffed a breath, his stomach muscles clenched and he forced his eye’s to meet Taylor’s accusing stare. “And you get in my office. I need to talk to you,” he said, his tone deflated, because he had zero hope that she’d come to his office or that she w
ould let him apologize.

  He was with Dexter now. He would not blame Taylor Kincaid if she walked right out of that front gate and never looked back. It felt like a knife stabbed into his thigh with every hop step he made toward his office, but he deserved that pain and more. As much as he’d dealt to Taylor Kincaid. He opened his door and shut it behind him, then leaned on it to think.

  A moment later, the door shoved into his back, he fell forward, stepped down on his left leg to catch himself and fire shot up his leg, through his groan and he howled as he caught himself on the edge of the desk.

  A sharp laugh speared through his brain, as the door shut. “I’m almost tempted to go back out and do that again,” Taylor said, as she walked up beside him. “You have about thirty seconds to apologize, or you’re going to be hurting in places you never knew existed.”

  Anger was good—at least she came to talk to him, Slade thought, as he fought through the pain to turn around and lean on the desk. She crowded him, and glared up at him. “Talk asshole, your time is ticking away.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly.

  “Yes you are,” she agreed, the tension in her mouth easing a bit.

  “A sorry asshole,” he elaborated, feeling like he was on a roll now and wanting to see that beautiful face totally relaxed again. To see the anger fade and forgiveness shine in her eyes. But that was probably too much to hope for right now.

  “Go on,” she said, leaning away to cross her arms over her breasts.

  “An arrogant, assuming asshole who can’t tell you how sorry he is,” Slade said, and her eyebrows lifted, her eyes softening the slightest degree. He leaned up and took her shoulders in his hands and they stiffened. “An arrogant, assuming asshole who is the sorriest man on earth, little bit.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she hissed, her eyes sparking again and he swallowed hard.

  “Okay. The sorriest man on earth, Taylor. Please forgive me.”

  “Try Ms. Kincaid. Isn’t that what you called me last night?” she asked angrily, and Slade’s heart took a nosedive in his chest. His hands fell away, and he sighed as defeat filled him.