by Julia Sykes
“Online. He was on one of those free dating sites. He was one of the few guys who wasn’t a total creep in his messages.”
“I don’t know why you go on those. The paid sites, I understand. The other ones are just for hookups.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” she challenged, as saucy as ever.
“Nothing,” I assured her. “It’s just not for me.”
“Says the girl who had sex in a kink club last night.”
“You do have a point there,” I conceded, laughing.
“Well, get it, girl,” she encouraged. “He’s totally into you. I’m sure he’ll open up soon.”
“I hope so,” I turned glum again at the reminder of his distance, my mood swinging rapidly. I hated it.
“I think I’ll get in touch with Alik and talk it through with him,” I contemplated.
“That’s a good idea. He’ll know what to do.”
“You’re right, as always. I’ll call him now.”
“Cool. Love you, Liss.”
“Love you, too.”
I ended the call and immediately found Alik’s contact details on my phone. As was typical, he was near the top of my recent calls. He really was too good to me, making so much time for me when I needed him. Just thinking about it awoke a warm glow in my chest.
He answered on the second ring. “Lissa. It’s so good to hear from you. How are you feeling?”
My entire body instantly relaxed at the sound of his voice, and I instinctively laid back on the bed with a long sigh.
“I think I’m okay,” I answered. “I’m still pretty shaken up about last night.” I hadn’t been able to remember the conversation that had taken place when he came to my house the night before, but suddenly it flowed back into my mind. We had talked about the anarchists. He took away my fear.
“Don’t be afraid,” he ordered smoothly.
The last of my lingering terror from my nightmare melted away. “Okay.”
“Are you with Ian?”
“Not right now. He left me at his motel while he went to meet with Salvation.” It didn’t even cross my mind that I was sharing classified information with Alik. It was only natural that I tell him everything.
“Excellent. Let’s talk. Are you lying down?”
“Yes.” My voice softened along with my body, ready to find the peace he offered in the quiet haven he had created for me in my mind.
“Good. I want you to close your eyes. I’m going to count backwards from ten. By the time I get to one, you’ll be completely relaxed and calm. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he praised again. The warmth in my chest expanded, radiating all the way out to heat my fingers and toes.
“Ten,” he began. I drew in a slow, deep breath with each number that passed. By the time he got to five, I drifted out of time and space, and I was no longer consciously aware of the count.
“What has Ian told you about Salvation?” His question floated down to me. I absorbed it with detached interest. My mind returned to the information I had tucked away earlier that morning, accessing the memory of what Ian had divulged.
“He says they’re anarchists, and they’re planning some sort of attack.”
“What does he know about the attack?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“He doesn’t trust you.” I didn’t like the disappointment that deepened his voice.
“I’m sorry. I want him to trust me.”
“I know you do.” The warm glow returned with his soft reassurance. “What else did he tell you about Salvation?”
I sifted through the memories. “He thinks they’re working with terrorists.”
“What did he say about terrorists?” He asked sharply. I flinched, my trance state wavering. I didn’t like when Alik was angry. It made me unstable. My insecurities nipped at me, eating away at my inner calm. My breathing stuttered.
“Lissa. Calm down. Stay with me.” His tone returned to its usual smooth rhythm. The steady orders were reassuring, grounding me.
“I’m with you.”
“Tell me what Ian said about the terrorists.”
“He only said Salvation might be working with a larger terrorist cell. He didn’t seem to know much more about them.”
“Did he say anything about the Russians?”
I examined my memories. “No.”
“If he does, I want you to call me right away.”
“Okay.”
“Are you able to stay close to him?”
“Yes. I’m supposed to pretend to be in a M/s relationship with him until the op is over. I’m staying at his motel.”
“Good. Keep trying to earn his trust. Do whatever is necessary to get him to open up to you.” His words were tight again.
“Are you mad at me?” I came back to myself enough that my mind was able to formulate the question.
“No, Lissa. I’m very proud of you. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
At the sound of my name spoken in his softly accented voice, my lips curved up in a small smile. I relaxed again. “Yes.”
“I need you to be good for Ian, too. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Call me if you learn anything new from Ian about Salvation and their plans.”
“Okay.”
“And Lissa.” He hesitated uncharacteristically.
“Yes?”
“Call me if you need me. I’m here for you.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to count to ten. As I count, you’ll come back up. When I get to ten, you’ll feel awake and refreshed. You won’t remember what we talked about. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“One,” his deep voice intoned. I wasn’t really aware of the numbers, but the gentle fog that cocooned my mind, shielding me from my turbulent thoughts, slowly lifted. By the time he got to ten, I was fully alert. I opened my eyes and smiled to myself.
“How do you feel?” he prompted.
“Wonderful. Thanks, Alik.”
“Excellent. Don’t forget to take your meds,” he reminded me.
“I won’t. I brought them with me.” I registered that Alik knew I was staying with Ian, but it was a peripheral thought. I wasn’t sure when I had told him that, but it was only right that he knew everything about my life.
“Good. Get in touch if you need anything.”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Lissa.”
“Bye.” I was still smiling when I ended the call. Alik always made everything so much better.
* * * * *
“I hope you like pizza.” Ian hefted the huge pizza box. My mouth watered as the scent of freshly baked bread and melted cheese permeated the small room.
“Deep dish?” I questioned.
“Is there any other kind?” His crooked smile made my heart flutter. His guilt and tension had dissipated, giving me a glimpse of the man that was crushed beneath all the pain he always carried around.
I uncrossed my legs from where I’d been lounging on the bed and set Ian’s laptop aside. I waited for him to approach me.
“Did your meeting go well, then?”
His smile dropped, and I immediately regretted the question.
I need to know what had happened, I rationalized. I was worried about him.
“I got what I needed,” he said tersely.
“Oh. Good.”
I scooted to the edge of the bed, making space for him to sit beside me. My chest squeezed when he settled down across from me on his separate bed. He held the pizza box between us like a shield. My eyes flicked to it, and my lips tugged up. I was determined to lighten the mood again.
“You went to Lou Molnati’s? I love that place.”
A flicker of his smile returned. “It’s my favorite in Chicago.”
“Mine, too. So you’re familiar with the city? I thought you were just here for your mission.”
His expression tightened as I turned
the conversation back to his job. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from returning to the topic.
He surprised me by answering in a carefully controlled tone. “I’m based in D.C. now, but I grew up here. I moved away to join the NJTTF two years ago.”
“What did you do before that?” I was genuinely curious.
“I was with the Chicago unit of the FBI.” He didn’t offer any more details.
“Why did you move away? Didn’t you like it here?”
He frowned and pressed the pizza box into my hands more roughly than was necessary.
“Eat,” he ordered. “You must be hungry.”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me of the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day. “Thanks.”
I barely tasted the delicious flavors that exploded on my tongue. Nerves tightened my throat, making it difficult to swallow. I hated the walls Ian had erected between us. How much time did I have to break them down?
“How long do you think your mission will take?”
Shit. Why couldn’t I stop asking about it? My damn Bipolar was making me fixate on a completely inappropriate topic. I set my slice down and reached for my meds where I’d placed them on the nightstand. He watched me as I quickly popped two pills.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “Sometimes I can’t control my thoughts. These help.”
When I met his eyes again, they had softened with calm understanding. “It’s okay. I guess I owe you some honesty. I just don’t want to tell you more than I absolutely have to. You’re too involved as it is.”
“I want to know. I’m supposed to start at Columbia at the end of August, and I don’t want to miss fall semester.”
“I don’t want that, either,” he promised. “That’s over a month away. I should be able to wrap this up before then. I got good intel today, and if the geeks can hack it we’ll be one step closer to stopping Salvation.”
“Why not just arrest them now? If you know they’re planning an attack, shouldn’t you stop it before they get any further?”
“I won’t let it get that far, but I need to find out who they’re working with.”
“The terrorist cell?” I pressed.
He pursed his lips together. “I don’t know enough about it yet, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”
My heart sank. “Oh. It’s classified, right?”
“Yes, but I also don’t want you getting any closer to this case. All I need you to do is stay here and stay safe until I take care of this.”
“I know you’ll protect me,” I said with absolute conviction. I knew it deep in my bones.
His blue eyes suddenly burned into mine. “I will. I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t mess up your life any more than I already have. You’ll get to school on time.”
Although I was grateful for that, I realized it meant Ian would leave me. Our relationship had an end date; I had a deadline to get him to trust me.
“Columbia, huh?” he asked, redirecting the conversation to something lighter. “You must be really smart to get in there.”
I flushed with pleasure and ducked my head. “I worked really hard.”
His fingers pressed beneath my chin, lifting my face so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Don’t downplay your accomplishments.” It was a gentle rebuke. “You obviously earned your place in the program.” His half-smile returned. “I know you’re tenacious. You’ll succeed at whatever you put your mind to.”
I simply stared at him for a moment, stunned at his praise. My mom and Sydney had expressed their pride in me, but something about Ian’s approval warmed my insides.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
His fingers left my chin to trace the line of my jaw, and he leaned forward to close the distance between us. My heart rate rocketed up at the tender touch, and my gaze riveted to his lips. My body ached for his kiss, and my sex grew wet at simply the prospect of his mouth taking mine. I remembered the ferocity with which he had claimed me in the car that morning, subjugating me to his will with his teeth and his tongue. One domineering touch, and my entire being melted for him.
His lips firmed to a thin line, and he pulled away abruptly. My shoulders slumped as he severed our connection. Hurt expanded in my chest, and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.
“You should eat something,” he said shortly.
“I’m not hungry.” My stomach was knotted too tightly for me to manage it.
“Eat.” It was a sharp command.
Mechanically, I reached for my slice of pizza and raised it to my lips. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t seem to resist obeying him when he spoke to me like that, no matter how much pain his harsh tone caused me.
He sighed. “Good.” His voice was gentler this time.
I relaxed slightly at the praise. If I could just prove I was his good girl, his walls would come down. He would trust me.
Chapter 4
Ian
Fucking phone. I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep before it started ringing. Guilt over almost kissing Lissa had kept me up for hours. I’d sworn to keep my distance, but I couldn’t seem to resist touching her when she looked at me with those wide, innocent green eyes. I’d only stopped myself just in time, but the damage was done; my rejection had hurt her. Again.
My phone trilled insistently. I grabbed it with an irritated grunt and quickly got up to take the call outside. I didn’t want to wake Lissa.
“What?” I demanded as soon as I closed the door behind me.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
“I’m not in the mood, Hassan,” I grumbled.
“Hung over again?” he asked, far too invasively. I hadn’t realized he’d picked up on my drinking habit. Whiskey had filled my days when I hadn’t been able to take the edge off at Dusk.
But that was before Lissa, before my op truly started.
“I don’t drink when I’m on a job,” I informed him coldly.
“Right. Sorry.” He sounded apologetic.
“Is there a reason you called me at this god awful hour? I’m not up for a friendly chat.”
“There’s nothing friendly about the way you’re speaking to me.”
I simply waited for him to get to the point. I wasn’t in the mood for banter.
“God, you’re a miserable prick,” he commented. “Fine. I picked up the flash drive from the PO box. Good work on that. You got the intel much faster than I anticipated.”
“Thanks for the kudos,” I said drily. “What did you find on the drive?”
“Nothing good,” he turned grim.
“Terrorists?”
“Worse. The emails were Russian in origin. It might be a splinter group acting on their own, but there’s a chance we could be looking at an international incident.”
That hit me square in the chest. “Shit.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Did you find out what kind of weapons they’re providing Salvation? If it really is an attack backed by the Russian government, this could be way worse than a dirty bomb.”
“The emails were vague on that. You’ll have to gain access to the weapons and evaluate the situation.”
“I’m meeting with them again tonight. I have an in with Ernest, but I’m not so sure about the others. They might not be ready to trust me enough to tell me what they’re packing. Did the emails say anything about their timetable? How much time do I have?”
“I don’t know. It seems they already have the weapons in their possession. They could mobilize the attack at any time. You’ll have to work fast. Do whatever you have to do to get them to trust you.”
Fuck. I had a good idea of what would earn their trust, and it involved bringing more attention to Lissa. So far, talking about our supposed M/s relationship had been the most effective way to get the anarchists’ interest.
“I’ll do what I can.”
One life isn’t worth thousands, I reminded myself.
I won’t let them hurt her. Just t
alking about her wouldn’t put her directly in the line of fire. I hardened my heart against my concern for her.
“Contact me when you know more,” Hassan requested. “I’ll keep analyzing the communications between Salvation and the Russians, see if I can figure out anything new.”
“Right. Keep me in the loop.”
I ended the call. I waited a full minute before going back inside, bracing myself to face Lissa. The bitter tang of betrayal coated my tongue; I felt like shit for using her to advance my mission.
I swallowed down my guilt. It wouldn’t do my any favors in the field.
Mastering myself, I unlocked the door and stepped back into the crappy little room we shared.
Lissa was sitting upright in bed, waiting for me. Even with sleep-mussed hair and no makeup, she was gorgeous. I ruthlessly pushed down the desire to join her, to hold her down and fuck her hard as she gasped into my mouth.
Her eyes flicked down to my hard-on, which was straining against my sweatpants. I suppressed a groan. Staying close to her and not touching her was going to be torture.
All the more reason to end this op soon.
The reminder of the gravity of the situation with Salvation and the Russians sobered me. I cleared my throat, drawing Lissa’s attention back to my face. A beautiful shade of pink colored her cheeks.
Why did she have to be so damn appealing? Everything about her tempted me.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” My voice came out more gravelly than I intended. I cleared my throat again.
“It’s okay. I don’t usually sleep this late anyway. I like to get up early and work out.”
“Krav Maga?” I asked, remembering her hobby.
She smiled. “Yeah. I don’t suppose you want to spar with me? I don’t have my body opponent bag, and I could really use the workout. It helps me keep my emotions in check.”
It was touching that she was so open with me about her disorder. My mother had suffered from bouts of depression her whole life, so I understood how difficult it could be. Hell, I’d been depressed for two years. Nothing was shitter than the loss of control, the all-consuming sense of despair that weighed down my soul. It was one of the reasons I was all but addicted to BDSM. I needed that control to stay sane.