Playing Dirty

by Tiffany Snow

  “Since you were hired.”

  That got my attention. I slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. “You’ve never said anything.”

  “I am now. So what was it? Too many people wanting handouts? Friends who weren’t really your friends? Favors you never wanted, but then they expected something in return?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” I replied. “All of the above. I just wanted to be … normal, for a change. Make it on my own.”

  “I’m surprised your dad didn’t have more to say about it.”

  “My dad is self-made. I think he understands. But he still insists on helping out here and there. I don’t mind. They’re my parents and I love them. It makes them feel better to know I live in a decent place, that I’m safe.”

  “And how would they feel if they knew you were putting yourself in danger by refusing protective custody?” he asked.

  I reached for a bottle of wine. Way better than beer. “It’s my life, Parker. My decision.” I twisted the opener into the cork and tried pulling it out. It wouldn’t budge.

  “What happens to you affects everyone who cares about you,” he said, taking the bottle from me. “So not just your life. Not really.” He pulled, easily leveraging out the cork, then handed the bottle back to me.

  “Ditto,” I shot back, shooing McClane away from sniffing the counter. As if I was going to hide away like a coward while Ryker and Parker were putting their lives on the line.

  My cell rang and I dug it out of my purse and answered.

  “Dear Sage, how are you? I heard you’ve had a couple of close calls recently.”

  The sound of Viktor’s thick Russian accent in my ear made me stiffen and my gaze flew to Parker’s. He knew instantly something was wrong.

  “Why are you doing this?” I hissed. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

  “Your boss did, and where I come from, payback is always personal.”

  The cell was suddenly snatched from my hand.

  “You have something to say to Sage, you say it to me,” Parker growled into the phone.

  I watched his face as he listened, his expression a mask of cold fury.

  “You want her, you’re going to have to come through me.” He ended the call, then turned off the phone.

  “Why are you doing that?” I asked.

  “I don’t trust those Russian hackers,” he said. “You’d be amazed at what they could do with a cell signal, including finding you. We’ll get you a burner phone tomorrow.” At my questioning look, he clarified. “Untraceable.”

  “What did he say to you?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

  “You don’t want to know.” Grabbing the wine bottle, he poured us each a glass. Taking his, he went into the living room. I picked up mine and followed him.

  A familiar tension marked the lines of his body as he perused the shelves along one wall, and I wasn’t sure if he was really seeing the books that lined the shelves or was still thinking about Viktor.

  Dinner was done before long—a blend of roasted chicken and veggies with olive oil, fresh rosemary and thyme—and I dished it up, serving us both on the small dining room table. Both of us seemed lost in our own thoughts as we ate. I was worried about Ryker, and the call from Viktor had scared me more than I wanted to admit. McClane lay at my feet, hoping for a scrap to fall, his big brown eyes following my every movement.

  “It’s ironic,” Parker said after he’d had a few bites. “The first meal you’ve ever cooked for me … is in Ryker’s house.”

  It was an odd thing to say, lending more meaning and intimacy to the impromptu dinner than I’d considered.

  “Well, how is it?” I asked. He’d eaten nearly half his plate already, so I was assuming I knew the answer to that one.

  “You could give Deirdre a run for her money.”

  I was absurdly pleased at the compliment, prompted though it may have been. He’d mentioned Ryker, though, and I wondered if he had him on the brain as much as I did.

  “I hope you and Ryker can patch things up,” I said. “And I’m sorry he brought me into it. I’ve tried to tell him you’re just my boss, but …” I shrugged, at a loss as to what to say.

  “Am I?”

  “Are you what?”

  “Just your boss.”

  The blue of his eyes seemed deeper in the soft lighting as he gazed at me, waiting for my answer. We were sitting across from each other, but given how small Ryker’s table was, he was still too close.

  “What do you want from me, Parker?” I asked tiredly, setting down my fork. My appetite was suddenly gone.

  McClane began to growl, easing up onto his haunches as he stared into the darkened hallway. My panicked gaze went from him to Parker, who was already up, gun in hand.

  “Call off the dog, Parker. It’s me.” A man stepped around the corner and I recognized him as the CIA agent who’d been undercover as an assassin for Viktor. His real name was Sasha.

  Parker relaxed, sliding the weapon under the waistband of his slacks at the small of his back. He’d discarded his tie and turned back the cuffs of his shirt and I couldn’t help the thrill of feminine appreciation for how sexy he looked doing that. Which was wrong wrong wrong, on so many levels.

  “Relax, McClane,” Parker said, setting his hand on top of the dog’s head. To my surprise, the canine obeyed, his ears coming up and his tongue hanging out as he looked curiously at the new arrival.

  “Sorry for coming in the back door unannounced,” Sasha said, still eyeing the dog warily as he approached us. “Keeping as low a profile as possible.”

  “Is anyone watching this place?” Parker asked, leading him to the living room. I followed, taking a seat on the couch. Sasha sat in a chair and Parker settled next to me. McClane plopped his butt on my feet.

  “Not that we’ve been able to ascertain, but it’s only a matter of time before they follow you—or her—here,” Sasha said.

  “Any progress on finding out where Viktor is?” Parker asked. His thigh was pressed against mine and he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his spread knees.

  “Not yet,” Sasha said. “He’s been expelled from all his contacts in Russia after how badly he messed up the ZNT deal. After how much money was seized and accounts frozen by us, it’s amazing they let him live.”

  “So he’s a man with a vendetta and nothing to lose,” Parker said. “That’s not good.”

  “Plus, he’s decided you’re to blame,” Sasha continued, nodding toward Parker. “The Russian Mafia stay in power for a reason. He’ll want to kill anyone who’s close to you, starting with Sage. And he’s more than capable of doing it.”

  The words lodged in my brain like a flashing neon banner. I had no idea what to say. I felt like I was living inside a movie. But was I the heroine who couldn’t die? Or the tragic victim who’d be avenged?

  I didn’t want to find out the answer to that question.

  “So what are you planning to do to protect Sage?” Parker asked.

  “We want to put her in protective custody, if she’ll agree.” Sasha looked expectantly at me, but I was already shaking my head.

  “Not unless Parker agrees to go, too,” I said.

  Sasha looked at Parker. “That can be arranged.”

  “I’m not hiding out while that lunatic is tracking Sage,” he said.

  Sasha sighed tiredly, leaning back in his chair. “Then what do you expect us to do, Parker,” he said. “I can’t make her do jack shit.”

  Parker turned to me. “Sage, please—”

  “Please what?” I interrupted. “I’m not doing it unless you do, too.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” he said.

  I shrugged. It was a no-brainer to me. I wasn’t about to go into hiding and let Parker take the fall.

  “So what’s Plan B?” Parker asked.

  “We have people working on tracking Viktor down,” Sasha said. “While he’s unable to get assistance from his former compatriots, he does have ties to organi
zed crime in the U.S., too. Even here in Chicago, I’m sure.”

  “He’ll have to have gotten the weapons and people he used last night from somewhere,” Parker said.

  Sasha nodded. “We’re working on it. We have some intelligence, sources on the inside here in Chicago. If he contacts them for supplies or crew, we’ll know about it.”

  A former KGB guy with nothing to lose and an ax to grind. That didn’t sound bad or anything. McClane must have sensed my disquiet because he whined a little, turning to rest his head in my lap. I petted him absently as I thought.

  Maybe protective custody wasn’t such a bad idea …

  But then I pictured Parker, injured or dead because of me, and I knew I couldn’t. I’d go crazy with worry over him, piled onto the worry I was already dealing with for Ryker.

  Sasha stood. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Stay aware. Stay alive. Call me if you change your mind.”

  “We’ll do our best,” Parker replied, standing as well. We watched as Sasha slipped out the back the same way he’d come.

  “Well,” he said once Sasha had gone. “It looks like I’m going to be living here for a while.”

  I looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

  “It’s not like I can just leave you here alone,” he said. “You’re a sitting duck.”

  McClane took umbrage to that, making a noise and glaring up at Parker as though he’d understood what had been said.

  “McClane can protect me,” I said, scratching him behind the ears. His eyes rolled back in his head in doggy bliss.

  “One bullet can take down a dog, though he might give you a few seconds’ lead time to get away,” Parker said grimly.

  “Rather than waiting for him to make a move, why don’t we draw him out?” I asked. It was much preferable to think of taking action rather than waiting for something to happen.

  “It’s dangerous,” Parker said.

  “It’s going to be dangerous no matter what,” I countered with a shrug.

  The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he stared at me, and he said nothing.

  “What?” I asked after a moment, self-conscious. Had I sounded ridiculous or something? I thought it was a solid plan. But he just shook his head.

  “I haven’t ever seen this side of you,” he said. “I like it.”

  “You mean my foolhardy, crazy, self-destructive side?” I asked dryly.

  That got a laugh. “I wasn’t going to call it that,” he said. “More like courageous, daring, and taking the initiative in a badass kind of way.”

  Pleasure curled in my belly at the compliment and our gazes caught. A beat passed and my smile faded.

  Then McClane sneezed all over me.

  “Aw, yuck! McClane!” I shoved his head and snotty nose off me and jumped up to go wash my hands. Dogs were gross and he didn’t look the least bit sorry.

  “Let’s get some sleep,” Parker said, glancing at his watch. “We’ll think of something in the morning.”

  I was exhausted, so that sounded like a good plan to me.

  Parker stretched out on the sofa while I took Ryker’s bed. McClane hopped up and made himself at home, stretching out diagonally and crowding me until I had to shove his butt over. As tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t just worry for myself that kept me awake. I wondered where Ryker was, and if he was safe. I finally fell asleep in the small hours of the morning.

  * * *

  “No, you’re not coming with me.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Parker and crossed my arms over my chest. We’d been arguing for several minutes now because he was going to his apartment to change and pick up some things and I didn’t want him to go alone.

  “Viktor knows where I live,” he said, grabbing his keys, wallet, and cell phone. “I’m not leading you straight to him.”

  “So you’re just gonna walk right in then?” I asked in exasperation.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “And if Viktor is there, then this thing will be over before it even gets started.” As if to emphasize his point, he racked the slide on his gun and pushed it into the band of his slacks at the small of his back.

  “Stay here,” he ordered me. “Don’t go anywhere. Don’t answer the door. Don’t even look out the windows.” He looked down at McClane, standing at my side and tail wagging like mad. “McClane, watch.”

  I had doubts as to McClane’s ability to understand, much less obey, such a command. But the dog sat immediately next to me, his ears perked and his eyes on Parker’s.

  “I’ll be back,” Parker said, heading for the door.

  “What about work?” I called after him.

  “I told them we’re taking a few vacation days,” he said.

  “Wait … together?” I asked, appalled. “People are going to think—”

  “Gotta go. Lock this behind me.” And he was out the door.

  Shit.

  I shut the door and locked it, feeling more unnerved than I wanted to admit at being left by myself. I glanced down at McClane, which was a mistake because his tongue lolled in a doggy smile and his tail started thumping.

  “I’m not scratching your belly,” I said. “You need to be alert. Not in a doggy coma.”

  He tried the puppy dog eyes on me, but I was immune.

  I decided I needed something to do, so I went rummaging in my makeup bag for nail polish. I always kept a few bottles in there and I grabbed You Pink Too Much. After the week I’d had, I definitely needed some sparkle in my life. And since I was on “vacation,” I was going to paint my toes and my fingers.

  “You’re such a rebel,” I muttered to myself, hunkering down in the living room with my supplies. I flipped on the television and found a random station with an old sitcom playing. That was good. Something light.

  Turning on my cell, I saw I had several voice mails from my parents. Crap. They’d either heard it on the news or the building manager had already called my dad. His name was on the lease as well, and I could only imagine what he’d be thinking when they called to tell him that not only was my apartment riddled with bullets, I was nowhere to be found. I dialed my mom’s cell.

  “Sage! Oh my God, we’ve been worried sick!” My mother was as beside herself as I’d ever heard her and I winced.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “There was kind of … an accident. But I’m okay.” I didn’t dare tell her about nearly getting run over by a truck.

  “An accident!” she screeched. “Sage, the police said it was gang violence and the building manager said that apartment is a total loss! Now are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to put your father on the phone?”

  “No, don’t get Dad, please,” I said hurriedly. My father would go even more ape shit than my mother. “It’s just … well, there’s this guy, this criminal …” and I proceeded to give her the Reader’s Digest condensed version of who Viktor was and what he was doing now.

  “But Parker is watching over me,” I said, hoping to allay her fears. “And the CIA is on the lookout for him, so it’ll be fine. It just may take a few days.” I hoped that was all it took.

  “Sage, I don’t like this,” she said. “You should go home for a few days while your father and I are out of town.”

  “You’re out of town?” I asked. “Where’d you go?”

  “Oh, your father got a wild hair—you know how he is sometimes—and decided he wanted to go visit his uncle Louie.”

  “So you’re in New Jersey?”

  “For the time being. Probably only for a few more days,” she said. “So why don’t you go home? Rita will cook for you and you’ll have the whole place to yourselves.”

  “ ‘Yourselves’?” I repeated.

  “Well, for goodness’ sake, make sure you take Parker,” she said in an are-you-an-idiot tone. “Now, are you going to go? Or do I have to use my mom voice?”

  I kinda thought she was already using her mom voice, but agreed anyway. “Okay, we’ll go,” I said. “Just … don’t tell Da
d until you get back, okay?”

  She gave a heavy sigh. “All right. Call me tomorrow.”

  “Will do. Love you.”

  “Love you, too, dear. And I’m thankful, very thankful, that you’re all right.”

  I hung up feeling a little warmer and fuzzier. Moms tended to have that effect, I supposed.

  I packed while I waited for Parker, my spirits a little better to think of going home rather than staying at Ryker’s house, sans Ryker.

  Ryker.

  Crap. What would he do when he found out I wasn’t here? Would he be worried? Think the worst? Probably.

  I hesitated, staring at my cell. “Screw it,” I muttered, picking it up and hitting the button I’d programmed for Malone, Ryker’s partner.

  “Hey, it’s Sage,” I said. “Ryker’s girlfriend.”

  “Oh yeah, hey. How’re you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m okay, but … I really need to see Ryker.” I hesitated. “He said I should call you if it was an emergency, that you’d know where he was.”

  “I do,” he said. “But it’s dangerous. Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t be calling if I weren’t.”

  “Okay,” he said with a sigh, then rattled off an address, which I quickly jotted down.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I swear, it’ll be quick.”

  Suddenly, McClane began to growl. I whipped around to look at the dog, who was staring down the hall. His ears flattened on his head and his teeth bared. The growling grew louder.

  “Oh God,” I whispered. “Someone’s in the house.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Send the police,” I hissed at Malone. “I’ve gotta go.” I hung up. There was nothing he could do anyway, and a phone in my hand would only hamper me.

  Shoving the phone in my pocket, I wrapped a fist around McClane’s collar. His growl was deep in his throat, but he quieted. The hair was standing up on his back and his obvious alarm made a cold flood of adrenaline rush through my veins.

  I took a few careful steps forward. McClane stayed at my side, pressed against my legs. The floor creaked underneath my feet and I froze.

  A man walked around the corner.