by Dawn Ryder
“Wait … I want to…”
Ricky locked the man’s arm up behind his back. “I’m going to give you what you crave, you bastard. What you can’t admit you want because you’re too fucking busy following the rules.”
There was a grunt as Ricky thrust into the man but the sounds that followed were ones of enjoyment. Harsh, carnal, blunt enjoyment. The table rocked as Ricky used the man hard, judging by the sounds coming from him. When the time was right, he buried himself inside him and reached beneath his hips to jerk on his cock. Brendon bucked, crying out as he ejaculated across the table top. Ricky enjoyed the moment, loving the power. His cock was still swollen when he let Brendon finish with a hoarse cry before he used the butt of his pistol to knock him across the back of his skull. Brendon slipped into a heap on the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head. The front of his body glistened with his own juice while Ricky wandered toward the bathroom. He used a hand towel to clean himself off without a care for how nice it was.
He tossed it onto the floor and went back to where Brenden was snoring on the floor. His clothing was lying about where it had been shucked. Ricky went through the pockets until he found the man’s work phone and held it up to the light to detect the grease marks that showed the swipe pattern. Breaking the man’s password took a little longer but soon he was into his email. Ricky popped a beer and sat down to read through deleted messages, memorizing details and names to use in his search. He snapped screen shots of several before he finished and tossed the phone back down onto the pile of discarded clothing.
Ricky dressed and left. The Las Vegas air was warm enough for Brendon to sleep on the floor without a shiver. Ricky left him alive. There wasn’t any profit in killing him, and he might be useful at some point in the future. Flight controllers often were, especially ones with secrets Ricky knew how to exploit.
He flipped out his phone and selected a burner phone number that would connect him with Tyler Martin.
* * *
Saxon was holding her.
It was pitch black, but they were in a shelter, so it was anyone’s guess what time it was. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, letting her hear his heart. He was toying with her hair, gently twisting a lock around his finger.
“I love this…” he muttered, letting her know he knew she was awake.
Of course he knew.
“I never could do much with it.”
“That messy knot you fix it in is devastating enough,” he informed her.
“Please.” She wiggled, but he only pushed his hand into her hair and gripped it just tight enough to keep her still as he rolled toward her.
“It’s sexy, Gin.” He moved just a bit, letting her feel his cock. “That’s what it does to me. The first time I saw it, the first picture that popped into my brain was you in bed and me being there to make sure your hair was messed up.”
His tone was husky and hard, stroking her confidence as he angled his head and pressed a kiss against her mouth. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders as he rolled over completely. Opening her thighs so he could nestle between them seemed so very natural, without a hint of awkwardness. Sex, that thing that had always seemed so messy and ridiculous suddenly struck her as intimate. At least with Saxon it was.
“Talk, Gin.”
He’d stopped with his cockhead just teasing the wet folds of her labia. “Huh?”
“You’re biting your lip again.”
She opened her mouth, earning a knowing chuckle from him. “It’s not fair that you read me so easily.”
He was completely unimpressed with her grousing, his lips remaining in a wide smile as he looked down at her. But he thrust forward, slowly, driving his length into her inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.
“It’s damned unfair that way you make me forget every solid reason why I shouldn’t be in your bed.”
Conversation fell aside as passion took over. In the dark, it was so easy, so natural to just give into it. To him. She strained toward him, the urgency building until sweat coated both of them and their cries were bouncing off the low ceiling. All of it combined into a moment of soul-shattering bliss that dropped them both back down to earth in a tangle of limbs.
Saxon turned toward her, hooking his arm around her waist as he moved up behind her and buried his nose in her hair. He was half asleep, making the motion more endearing because it lacked his normal ironclad control. There was something about being with him with his guard down that hit her straight in the heart. Oh, it was foolish and bound to land her in a lake of misery but that seemed so far away. Consequences mere peaks in the distance. Ginger let her eyes close and her thoughts quiet.
Live in the moment …
* * *
“You don’t take rejection well.”
Carl Davis didn’t care for Kagan’s comment. He’d been turning a pen through his fingers but stopped and pointed it at Kagan. “I don’t sit still for double crossing. Marc Grog shouldn’t have crossed that line. I called you in because Marc just changed the rules of the game.”
Kagan heard the unmistakable warning in the man’s voice. “Can’t blame you for that. Got a tender spot for turncoats myself. I like to see them get what they deserve.”
It was a firm reminder that Kagan didn’t like Tyler Martin, or the fact that Carl Davis was shielding him. Carl’s eyes lit with understanding as he went back to moving the pen through his fingers while he decided what he wanted to say.
“I need Martin,” Carl said slowly. “Don’t bother to try and sell me some line about there being plenty of men out there that have more integrity. I know that. Tyler Martin is loyal to me one hundred percent because he has no other place to go.”
“True enough,” Kagan agreed.
“I didn’t have anything to do with his actions under Jeb Ryland.”
“And he was only following orders?” Kagan slowly grinned and watched Carl stiffen. It was the normal reaction to his grins, one he enjoyed. Carl David enjoyed a little too much confidence in his position. Something Kagan was happy to shake at its foundation.
“Why don’t we focus on the present?” Carl did his best to sound intimidating. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at it. He was, but Kagan had a lot more blood on his hands and the presidential hopeful knew it.
That fact sort of made Kagan like him or at least lowered the level of disgust he felt while sitting in the man’s office and forcing himself to do business with him. It was a fact that Kagan would like to snap his neck but it would be a rash action, one he needed to quell the urge to perform because there would be retributions. Big ones. Like executive orders to close the Shadow opps teams. Something Kagan wouldn’t allow to happen.
Even if the price was high.
“Why do you think I’m sitting here, instead of helping to put the case against Grog together?”
Carl didn’t have many people raising their voices to him and that showed in the way his eyes narrowed.
Kagan grunted. “Better doing business with the devil I know…”
Understanding dawned on Carl, and his lips curved slightly. “Hilliard is a puss bag, isn’t he? With him in the White House, you’ll have plenty to worry about.” Carl happily blackened his biggest opponent’s nature. “Choosing me over him? I’m less than flattered.”
“It’s how the game is played. I’m choosing the stronger man,” Kagan answered. “Still, you were in bed with Ryland. Jeb was a piece of work.”
“His wife was Miranda Delacroix. I wanted the daughter. Delacroix blood. They have ties to every major family in politics. I needed the support. Jeb just happened to be part of the deal.”
Kagan titled his head to the side. “Interesting explanation.”
Carl laid out his demand. “I want the witness. Grog just took a very public swipe at me. If I fail to pay that back in kind, I’ll get eaten by the rest of his cohorts.”
Kagan only drew in a slow, deep breath, making it clear he was less than impressed. “As I told you the first ti
me we talked, I’ve got to clean up a few places before it all lands on me. That witness is the key to providing the American viewers with a crime boss being taken in for his day in court. Considering Marc faked his death, it will be a media feast.”
“I can ensure the case doesn’t get buried by the lawyers Marc Grog can afford to man the shovels. Let me take credit for it, and I will be happy to keep the Shadow teams that made it possible. Unity, and the start of a nice, long, working relationship.”
Threat and promise, the Washington special. Kagan stood, letting several moments pass before he spoke. “I’ll be in touch when I make a decision.”
“Today,” Carl pressed the issue.
Kagan nodded.
And he’d have to make good on it, too, or risk Carl looking for other allies. Kagan knew that as he left the Capitol building. Carl wasn’t stupid. He knew the game, and that he had him close to a corner. It was a rat’s nest of complications and risks. Everything was fairly well balanced, which meant there was no way to ensure Saxon’s witness didn’t get the short end of the stick. Pulse could cover up one press conference by claiming he didn’t have enough information when he allowed his passion to get the better of him. Back-pedalling wasn’t a first for the music artist. Tyler would be the first to put the idea on the table since the witness had seen him kill Kitten. Keeping the witness and doing his job just might ensure that Kagan watched his Shadow opps teams get shut down when Carl was elected.
In a way, Ginger Boyce had managed the impossible. Slipping through a loophole that so many people had done their best to ensure didn’t exist.
The problem was, it just might prove to be her end because dead women couldn’t testify.
* * *
Tyler Martin came out once he was certain Kagan was well down the hallway outside Carl Davis’s office and the door firmly sealed. Carl looked toward him. “Did you get all of that?”
Tyler nodded. “That witness saw me kill Kitten. She’s got to go, even with you severing ties with Marc Grog.”
Carl nodded. “I won’t leave your ass out in the breeze.” He tossed the pen onto his desk. “Not so long as you cover mine, that is.”
“That’s the arrangement,” Tyler confirmed. “But we need her alive long enough to deal with Grog. She’s about the only thing I can think of that will push on his soft spots. Much as I’d sleep better if I just put a slug in her brain.”
“Kagan will give her to me,” Carl offered.
Tyler considered the meeting he’d just seen for a long moment. “He just might. Never pegged him for having that much flexibility. He might be playing you, too.”
“I know that,” Carl said. “It’s a risk I have to take. I can’t make him turn over the girl. Make him sorry for it, sure, but that won’t help us now.”
“I’ve got a man looking for her. Pulse thinks Sullivan works for them. One way or the other, we’ll get her. When a hitman takes her out, the blame will fall on Marc. Saxon Hale has to go, too. Along with his team. I’ll handle it.”
Carl was quiet for a moment, thinking over the situation. “Good. I need to turn my attention to making up the votes in California I just lost with Marc Grog’s announcement. I’m sending a warrant team to his place to make sure he knows I’m playing for keeps.”
“That will make an impression,” Tyler said. “Sure you don’t want to wait until we have the bait to draw him out?”
Carl shook his head. “I want Grog to feel the bite of handcuffs. His lawyers will have him out in record time. That’s why we need the witness, to keep him from jumping into that plane of his and running off beyond our reach.”
“Jeb Ryland was nursing a hard-on for vengeance, too. It didn’t turn out too well.”
“The difference is, Jeb let his personal grudges interfere with his political goals. Marc Grog is going to help me keep my lead in the polls one way or another. He seems to have chosen the hard way, and Kagan isn’t going to budge while I’m on the fence as far as the public goes.” There was a touch of heat in Carl’s voice, one he took a moment to control before finishing.
Tyler admired the calculated effort Carl was displaying. It was a relief, too, because he didn’t need to work for another whack job who would blow everything over bruised pride.
“Kagan will choose his teams,” Tyler agreed. “Once we have the witness, Marc will send his hitman for her. Hitman does the dirty work, we just have to make sure Marc is out on bail so it lands on him and I’ll bury the hitman to erase the trail.”
“Precisely,” Carl said. “We do make a good team, Martin. I’m looking forward to a long future together.”
Tyler left the office through a hidden door in the wall. It took him through passages that dated back to the Cold War era. They were all over Washington, DC. Cold, concrete-lined underground passageways that smelled of mildew and blood. He wanted Carl to get on with his campaign. That was a sign of the man’s trust.
Tyler emerged through a utilities closet in an old building that had been transformed into a water district management office. It was filled mostly with computer servers, the few employees on the far side of it. He ducked through a side door, none of the workers realizing he’d even been there.
One of his phones was buzzing and he pulled it from his pocket.
“Got your prize in sight,” Sullivan said, clearly pleased with himself. “Only had to fuck an air controller to get it.”
“You’re as resourceful as Pullman claimed you were,” Tyler responded. “But I’ll only be impressed when you have her. Alive.” He stressed the last word before he ended the call and tucked the burner phone back into his jacket. Carl might have a plan but Tyler would always make sure there was a backup one too and with the Hale brothers, it was a wise course of action to make sure he had all bases covered. He lifted his hand and flagged down a taxi, slipping into the back seat as his thoughts lingered on Kagan.
His former section leader was dangerous. There was no doubt in his mind that there was more than met the eye in the meeting he’d just over heard. With Kagan, only a fool thought they had him figured out. He’d been a section leader for a very long time, which translated into the blunt fact that Kagan had more connections than anyone knew. Tyler had taken to pledging himself to men like Jeb Ryland because Kagan wouldn’t leave him alone easily.
Things had a funny habit of coming full circle. It looked like he just might be working with Kagan again.
Of course, that just meant that Tyler needed to make sure Kagan knew who the boss was. Tyler would make sure Carl knew that. The Shadow opps teams had to go.
* * *
“Gin?”
Ginger blinked and opened her eyes. She felt pinned to the bed, her limbs still heavy with fatigue.
“We’ve got to move.”
She jerked all the way awake in an instant, and his grin faded as he cupped her bare shoulder.
“Easy, nothing’s wrong. Precautionary only.” He straightened up, letting her see that he was fully dressed, his chest harness back in place. “You have time to grab a shower.”
“Right.”
She rolled over and sat up, instantly regretting it. Her internal muscles were sore. Not that it should surprise her but her face went up in flames as she realized Saxon was watching her with those keen blue eyes of his.
Night sports …
Yeah, with Saxon, sex was definitely a serious athletic event. Not that she was complaining; far from it. She ducked into the shower while it was still cold, sucking in her breath as she danced in a little circle. Stopping when she caught sight of the razor Saxon had stuck to the tile with a small piece of duct tape.
They had a few minutes? The phrase had never made her blush before, but it did now.
“Moving” could mean a lot of things, and she still recalled him warning her that they might not get another chance to shower for a while.
There was the scent of coffee in the air when she finished toweling dry. It drew her out of the small bathroom and got her pulling he
r clothing on with quick motions before she took her boots with her into the outer room.
Two caplets of pain killers were sitting next to her coffee mug. She stared at them for a moment as she pushed her foot into one boot.
“You’ll have to get used to me noticing details, Gin.” He warned her softly. “It’s what I do.”
Ginger knotted the lace of the boot and raised her face so that she was looking at Saxon. “Maybe I want you to see me as able to keep up with you.”
“You wouldn’t still have that gun if I doubted your ability.” He reached for a mug and drained it. “We need to roll.”
He was in back-to-business mode. Two days ago, she wouldn’t have noticed the stark difference.
It seemed an eternity ago now. The nights spent in his embrace too new, too blissful a memory for her to not notice the way he changed. It was for her benefit and yet it stung to see him able to do it so effortlessly.
Oh, now you’ve gone and done it …
Ginger managed to ignore herself by getting her other boot on and guzzling the coffee. She ended up panting because it was so hot, she was pretty sure she’d burned her throat.
Well, that might just be a good thing. It might save her from making an ass of herself by babbling all day and letting Saxon know she’d gone and fallen in love with him.
Stockholm Syndrome …
Maybe.
All she knew was she cared about his feelings a whole hell of a lot, and she didn’t have anyone to blame but herself. He’d never misrepresented himself.
So she was just going to have to keep it together because there was no way she was going to toss her lapse in emotional discipline onto his load. No, it was her issue.
So she’d deal with it herself.
* * *
Vitus Hale woke easily and quickly. He grabbed his cell phone while he was still opening his eyes, his brain processing the information of it ringing while he was still coming out of slumber.