by Carter Blake
The light is fading now, but I can still make out those beautiful dark eyes, searching into mine.
What are you looking for, Dani? Or are you planning your second escape?
She runs a hand over my face and kisses me deeply. How does she always taste so good? I can feel my cock stirring again.
I can feel my heart plummeting.
I am so gone. This is bad.
I want to ask her what she’s thinking, but for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to do it. As odd as it sounds, I’d rather enjoy this ignorance of not knowing whether she’s going to leave or not.
“Hey, what’s going on in there?”
She’s picked up that I’m lost in my thoughts and not with her in the moment.
How long is this all going to last? How long before the other shoe drops?
“Janus?”
I don’t want to answer her question; I can’t. Instead, I kiss her—like it might be our last.
She wraps her arm around my body, pulling me close. She was never this affectionate in Sudan. Maybe I’m being too paranoid.
But given her track record, can I trust this to last?
She’s so close and wet and warm, and I’m well and truly hard again.
I flip her over onto her back again, and she laughs.
No more doubts—at least not tonight.
Chapter 29
Danielle
I’ve come to like sleeping next to Janus. Come to love it, actually.
He’s so tough and guarded when he’s awake. But when he’s asleep, his features are gentle, soft, and optimistic.
I like to wake up next to him, too.
Yes, our days are insanely full—just how I like it.
But it’s nice to take a few minutes to kiss his lips deeply, to be felt by those hungry hands, and to be looked at by those shockingly blue eyes.
This morning is not like that.
This morning, I’m not woken up by his lips, but by a call on his mobile phone.
I have to admit, it’s pretty hot when he speaks Arabic. He speaks it so fluently and elegantly that every syllable sounds poetic.
He speaks for a few minutes. Playing absently with my hair.
He looks concerned, but excited.
I’m willing to bet a year’s salary that Mahdi’s found something.
He makes a few more sounds of agreement, then hangs up.
Now he’s ready to kiss me, but I want to hear the news.
“Mahdi’s found the traffickers,” he tells me before I can even ask.
I knew it, I’m always right about these things.
This is exciting.
I get up to get dressed, but he pulls me back down.
“Dani, this is getting serious,” he says, furrowing that cute little brow. “Kidnap-and-murder kind of serious.”
“It’s literally kidnap and murder, Janus,” I remind him. “That’s what human trafficking is.”
He gives me a tiny smile, but for once, he’s not amused by my cleverness.
“I know we don’t need to go over this again, but can you promise me, you won’t rush into anything today?”
I’m feeling petulant. Janus is my employee, partner—and now my lover.
But, he’s not my father.
Still, I’m a little touched by his concern.
“Okay, I promise I won’t get myself killed… today.”
He finally let slip a touch of his joyful, charming laugh.
He has new outfits and covers for us today.
And thanks to Mahdi and Leviathan, we have entry and exit plans of the area out to five blocks.
We take the car through Istanbul’s old streets. No time to admire the view. Not to mention in-case-of-emergency plans.
“Now, remind me, what do you do if you feel like you’re really cornered?” Janus asks when we’re stopped at a light.
He turns to face me, and I am genuinely moved by the concern in his baby blues, but now is not the time for lovey-dovey stuff.
“I dunno, knock the guy out from behind and save your sorry ass?”
He laughs and looks back to the road just in time for the light to go green.
“No, that’s my backup plan. And it won’t happen again anyway.”
He takes one hand off the wheel for a second to squeeze mine, and our skin touching is intoxicating.
Oh man, falling for my hired muscle—or hired muscle and brains in this case—wasn’t part of the plan. But then, it wasn’t part of the plan last time either.
I guess I’ll have to adjust the plan—later, when I can finally tell him how I feel.
Right now, we have a plans-and-safety checklist we still have to go through.
“If things get really bad,” I say in a singsong voice. “I use our code-word. The bug in my top pocket will relay it to Mahdi’s men outside.”
“Exactly, but let’s both make sure things don’t get as disastrous as last time. Mahdi tells me this area was particularly difficult to infiltrate. We only have a few blokes in the field.”
His accent is even cuter when he’s stressed.
We park a few blocks away, double check our gear—which includes a small, concealable handgun for him—go over the plan one last time, and walk in.
It just looks like a normal factory.
But I can smell sadness a mile off, and so can Janus.
In my peripheral vision, I can see his muscles clench and his mouth go thin and angry.
Even angry, Janus remains a pro at his job. He takes us in through the back as if he owns the place, grunts an acknowledgment at anyone who looks our way. Doesn’t skip a beat.
And then, we are in a huge hall with seemingly thousands of women and children crammed into it.
There are guards standing all around the edge holding AK-47s.
I can feel my fists clench.
Janus subtly puts his hand over mine for the briefest of seconds, reminding me not to blow our cover.
He goes over to one of the guards and starts talking to him in perfect Turkish.
I stand here with an unimpressed look on my face, but I’m looking around too. Scanning the room and looking over those being held.
These people don’t smell like people, they smell like terrified animals. Like cattle waiting to be slaughtered. It smells like sweat, blood, fear, and, well, shit.
I can see dried blood on the faces of more than one young girl.
Hundreds of emaciated faces.
I hate this. It takes all of my self-control not to bash out the nearest guard.
But I know that wouldn’t help. I’m just insanely angry.
And then it happens.
Among all the dejected tired faces, I begin to recognize some.
More than some, I begin to recognize many.
I’ve talked to these girls in the refugee camps.
Some of them are badly injured.
Eyes swollen over. Blood in their hair. Flies buzzing around them.
My blood is boiling, and I’m madly trying to think of what my next move could be, when Janus walks back to me and motions with his chin towards the doorway.
I follow him back out, keeping up my casual disinterest despite my inner rage.
As we discussed earlier, we walk in silence all the way back to the car.
Once the doors are safely closed, I turn to him.
“I recognized a lot of those girls.”
My anger is palpable.
“I know,” he says, his voice soft.
“What’s the plan? What do we do? How many of them can we get out now?”
“Dani,” he touches my face sympathetically. “The plan is: go back to the loft, call for reinforcements, and regroup with a new plan.”
“No, no, no. Absolutely not. That cannot be the plan. No.”
“Dani, there are too many guards. It’s too dangerous. We need reinforcements.”
“You said yourself that this isn’t just a job or a story anymore, Janus! It’s real people!”
&nb
sp; “I know,” he replies grimly. “And so are you. You do understand that if you die while working, you actually die, right?”
“Very funny. You do understand that if these women and children die while we’re waiting for reinforcements, they actually die too, right?”
He is looking at me with a hard, determined look on his face.
“And what purpose would your death serve these people?”
Fuck, I hate it when he’s right.
He kisses me deeply.
“You are amazing Dani. You are amazing, and I am in awe of your empathy and passion. But I’m not going to let you die today.”
I am feeling too many emotions at once.
That kiss was something.
And when did he turn into such a knight in shining armor?
Haven’t I proved to him time and time again that I can take care of myself?
Before I can respond, he has already started to drive away.
“Janus. I’m not happy about this. Turn the car around.”
“No. I’m not happy about you trying to get yourself killed.”
“Janus. I’m afraid that the girls will be removed before reinforcements arrive. Even tomorrow could be too late for them.”
“Dani, you’re talented at many things. Taking on entire factory, even with me as backup, isn’t one of your talents. Don’t be stupid. You’re not stupid.”
This hits me hard.
I’m so angry and sad about what I just saw, that it’s blinding all rational thought.
Janus knows this—knows me—but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“I hired you to get me into places. Not to teach me how to be clever. That’s my job. And I seem to be doing fine so far.”
His voice is quiet and eerily calm now. It feels like a splash of cold water against my face.
“Didn’t we agree that this was more than a job? Do you want me and my opinion? Or, do you just want me to forge some documents for you, so you can go and get yourself riddled with bullet-holes?”
I don’t want to fight with him, especially when it’s a fight that I’m not going to win this time around.
I want to fight those asshole guards.
I want to fight their bosses.
But I’m too angry and tired, to reply to Janus’ concerns without making things worse.
So I settle for putting my hand on his thigh and squeezing.
Hoping I can say words that my mouth can’t quite form yet through my presence.
Chapter 30
Janus
Back at the apartment, things are a little tense.
Dani is still upset that I wouldn’t let her blunder foolishly into certain death.
I want to make things right, but I’m sick of the way she tries to rush things.
It puts me on edge. It’s like this is all just a game to her—like I’m just a game to her.
Still, I saw those women and girls. I was moved and upset too, more than she could possibly know.
It’s stuff like this that is part of the reason why I left MI6.
She’s been jittering and jumping around since we got back. Her calm facade broken.
She was swearing at her laptop like a sailor when I suggested that she might like to take a bath or a hot shower to unwind before actually trying to do anything.
For once, she took my advice.
I’m standing in the balcony doorway with a glass of raki in hand, waiting as patiently as I can.
I’m waiting for Mahdi to call me back about additional reinforcements, for Leviathan to call me back with some Intel, and for Eagle to let me know he’s on the move.
A ping tells me that Dani’s received an email.
I don’t know why I open it. I can’t help myself.
I feel myself go cold. It starts in my stomach and moves up to my chest as I read.
Gorgeous Dani,
Long time, no see. It’s good to hear from you.
I’ve been thinking about you recently and that lovely night we shared in Central Park.
You were utterly divine in that little black dress, and such a dream to talk to. There is something irresistible about a clever woman.
Anyway, I digress.
To business.
Yes, I do have some contacts who’ve written on trafficking, although I have to say, it is pretty uncommon to try and actually save the captives. That sounds like something pretty unique to the tenacity I like so much about you.
I’ve sent emails to all of my contacts who’ve written on the industry, telling them you are very important to me and asking them to help you in any way they can.
Good luck and godspeed.
And please keep yourself safe, I’d like to see you back in New York in one piece,
Affectionately, Dave.
Who the fuck is Dave?
Fuck Dave.
Fuck Dani too.
I throw the glass of raki across the room, and the chalky white drink shatters against the wall—just as Dani steps out of the bathroom.
She looks at the shattered mess on the wall and floor and then looks to me, perplexed and concerned.
“Okay, what happened?”
“Who the fuck is Dave?” I blurt out.
A look of knowing flits across her face. She knows I’ve found her out.
“Dave is just a colleague, Janus. How do you know about Dave, anyway?”
“How do I know about Dave? Am I not supposed to? Am I not supposed to know about your real boyfriend, so you can keep milking me for all I’m worth?”
She walks over to me and reaches out for my arm.
I step back with a shake of my head.
She bites her lip and looks worried.
I don’t care.
She gathers herself and speaks to me in the sort of condescending, calm voice you use to speak to an angry child.
“Janus, Dave is not my boyfriend. Dave is not anything. He’s a contact with a crush on me.”
I don’t believe her. I don’t believe this.
“Really, Dani? Would someone who’s just a colleague talk about the ‘night you shared’…about how ‘utterly divine’ you are?”
I mean, she is utterly divine, but that’s beside the point.
She’s fucking playing me.
She takes in a slow, deep breath and goes on full business-mode.
“Okay Janus, I don’t have enough information to assess the situation. Let my read the email.”
She sits down at the computer to read, the frown slowly deepening on her face.
She sighs.
“Okay,” she says, turning around to face me. “I’m sorry you saw this. I’m sorry this happened at all, actually. I’m really…I’m growing really fond of you…and I don’t want things to get complicated or nasty.”
I’m not placated.
I’m wishing I had another glass to throw across the room.
“Dave is a colleague from a rival paper. He’s had a crush on me that I’ve been using to my advantage. He’s a great journalist and well-connected. He’s also far too old for me, and not my type at all.”
She stands up and walks over to me.
She smells like mint and pomegranate.
She puts a hand suggestively on my chest, and I don’t flinch, but I don’t reciprocate her touch either.
“He’s not my type at all, Janus. You’re my type.”
She leans in to kiss me—I’m tempted, so fucking tempted—but I push her away and start pacing again.
Outside, a storm is brewing, blowing away the calm clear day.
How fitting.
“Do you tell that to all the men you use for your work? Are we all the only one, who’s just your type?”
That one hurt her. I can see it in her eyes.
I don’t care.
“No, no. Janus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this.”
“About what? About how you’re going to slip off into the night again, the second you can wring me and the Brotherhood dry? About your n
etwork of crushes around the world, all wrapped around your little finger? How many of them have you slept with to get what you wanted?”
Okay. I’m getting personal now. I never get personal.
But this is personal.
There’s that pain again, but it lasts for only a fleeting moment, as it gives way to genuine anger now.
Good, let’s both feel terrible.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s unfair to use guys like Dave. But you have no idea how hard it is to be a woman in the investigative journalism world. I have to use what I’ve got.”
“Like you’re doing with me?”
“No, not like I’m doing with you at all. You are incredibly competent and professional. That’s why I hired you in the first place. I have no doubt that you would be doing your job just as well, even if we weren’t sleeping together. In fact, you’d probably be doing it better, because you wouldn’t be so goddamn worried about me dying all the time. I slept with you because I wanted…you.”
“Oh, so it’s become a liability for you that I’ve begun to care for you? I’m sorry for getting in the way of your efficiency. And how does Dave feel? He’s a person too, you know. Not just a useful contact.”
“Dave can take care of himself.”
“Right, and I can too? I’m so competent and professional. You can just slip out as many times as you like, and I’ll always just bounce back.”
The storm is really starting in earnest now.
We had the windows open to let in the spicy, warm air, and now the hard wind is blowing a different kind of scent.
She sits down on the bed and pats it. Motioning for me to sit next to her—which I don’t.
Her face is soft, which is far, far worse than she was angry.
“That’s not what I meant at all, Janus. You know that. And you know how I feel. How I want more than just a business arrangement.”
I am torn. I don’t know if she’s telling the truth or not.
I have no reason to trust this girl, and every reason to.
Her face is pinched.
I want to kiss that worry away, push her onto the bed and get lost in that body. It would be easy to use sex to just make this all stop and to make me forget this mess, but it would only be temporary.
And I will not be used for a second longer.
“Do you respect me, Dani?”