by Leslie North
Thump, thump, thump.
“FBI! Open up!”
Following a deep breath for courage, Hayley rushed over and took his hand.
Trust me.
Scotty helped her out onto the roof alongside him then pointed toward a large, thick branch about ten feet away. “I’m going to run and jump, grab that and hoist myself up.”
“What do I do?” She swallowed hard against the growing lump of panic in her throat.
Heights weren’t exactly her thing either.
“You just hang on for the ride.” He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Okay?”
She glanced down. Big mistake. Squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She heard the agents busting into the rooms downstairs, moving closer, closer… “Okay.”
“I’ll protect you. Promise.” He tugged her to his side as the chair jamming the door in the room behind them clattered to the ground. “Trust me?”
Adrenaline and pure fear kept her from answering. She was a desk jockey, a number cruncher, a tech head extraordinaire. This wasn’t what she was trained for, this wasn’t something she could do…
“Red? Red!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “I want you to climb onto my back and let’s get the hell out of here. Now!”
Wait. What?
He faced away from her and ducked slightly so she could place her arms around his neck. Shaking, she did as he’d asked then squeaked as he stood and her feet dangled off the ground. “For your information, this is highly dangerous.”
“Better than getting taken into custody. Hang on.” He backed up to the wall of the house, then sprinted forward and leapt.
She squeaked and buried her face in the back of his neck as he caught and held the tree branch with both hands, a low grunt grumbling through him with the effort. Somehow, she’d lifted her thighs and now had her legs gripping his waist tight. No way was she letting go. No way in hell.
“Be careful,” she whispered, peeking around the side of his head to focus straight ahead and not on the plunging depths below.
“Always.” He passed one hand over the other down the length of the branch until they reached the thick trunk. There, they held their breath in the shadows for a moment as a member of the FBI team beamed a flashlight out the window, searching the backyard for suspects. Luckily, the new leaves were thick and the light skimmed by them without revealing their position. Beneath her palms, she could feel the sheer strength and solidness of his form, the slight shake of his muscle under the strain. Scotty chuckled low and the rich sound warmed her insides, despite the situation. “You keep feeling me up like that, Red, and we’re going be a while.”
Heat flooded her chilled cheeks and she narrowed her eyes. “Just get us out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shimmied them down the trunk of the tree then ducked again so she could climb off him while he brushed bits of bark off his clothes. “All right. Ready?”
“Where are we going to go?”
“Away from this place sounds like a good starting point.”
“Agreed.” Taking either of their vehicles would’ve been too risky, with all the agents swarming around, so walking was their best bet. She took his hand in hers, still trembling, and they sped off into the darkness.
*
An hour later, they strolled through the empty Lincoln Memorial, hand-in-hand, as slivers of pink and gold were just starting to streak the horizon and a few birds twittered in the pre-dawn chill. After spending the night with her, getting to know her, being inside her, Scotty felt more confused than ever. Yeah, she seemed to be on his side and open to the SEALs cause, but something about her still bothered him.
“How’d you know that FBI squad was coming?” he asked, glancing over at her in the gloom.
“I have a monitor on my computer. Let’s me know when the Bureau’s system has me locked and loaded when I’m hacking.”
“Huh.” He frowned. “You hack into your employer’s stuff often?”
“No.” She turned away, adjusting the bag over her shoulder. “Yes. Sometimes.”
They walked a bit farther then leaned against a nearby railing. He’d done his usual inspection as they’d walked and he knew the place was deserted, but he still couldn’t seem to shake the feeling they were being watched. He rubbed the nape of his neck, the tiny hairs prickling there, his well-honed instincts flaring.
She rested her hips against the cool metal beside his. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the feel of those hips in his hands, the taste of her arousal on his lips, the warm, wet embrace of her body around his. Muscles tight in response, he crossed his arms and stared at the illuminated monument in the distance and changed subjects. “So, why did you?”
“Why did I what?”
“Go rogue.”
“Besides the fact I consider myself a good citizen and don’t like the idea of my government framing innocent people?” Hayley exhaled and squinted at the ground. “And I really wanted to sleep with you, and sleeping with suspects isn’t allowed, so…”
The slight quiver in her voice told him he wasn’t the only one affected by what had happened between them. Scotty grinned. Hell, truth was, sex only made it all more complicated and sleeping with her had probably been a huge error in his judgment, but damn if he could bring himself to regret it. “Yeah, the sex was pretty fucking hot. I didn’t know a woman could do that with her—”
She kissed him this time, shutting him up. He deepened the caress, sweeping his tongue into her mouth to taste her spicy sweetness once more. Hayley was like a drug, addictive and deadly, but God what a rush.
“I was kidding, you know. About the sleeping together part.”
“I wasn’t,” he said and kissed her again.
Her wanton groan urged his libido higher. He’d always been a man who loved sex, lots of it, and he’d never found a partner who could keep up with him. Until now, it seemed. She clutched the front of his shirt then reached lower to stroke his aching cock through the front of his jeans and he damned near embarrassed himself in public. He could take her, right here, right now, and she’d joyfully go along for the ride.
Goddamn, he loved that about her.
His mind screeched to a halt.
Loved?
Absurd. Ridiculous. He didn’t love Hayley Stevens. Hell, he barely knew Hayley Stevens. And yeah, they’d just spent some incredibly intense, incredibly steamy time together, but no. It was the heat of the moment, the surge of adrenaline, fight or flight.
Speaking of fight or flight…
He broke off the kiss and set her away. Her breath panted and her lips were parted and wet and swollen. From his kisses. Scotty couldn’t resist the flush of masculine pride those thoughts created.
“We need to come up with a plan, Red.” He raked his hands through his hair and did his best to get his own raging hormones back under control. Times like these demanded a cool head and a clear vision. Right now, his head pounded with blood and lust and the only thing he could envision was Hayley naked, her long legs wrapped around his waist as he drove them both toward orgasm.
Yeah. Not helpful. Not helpful at all, dude.
“Right now, we’re too vulnerable. Which isn’t good,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d acted alone, on one finger actually. This time. He’d never worked a mission without his team. Never. Until now.
She cleared her throat and picked up her bag from where it had fallen to the ground in the frenzy of their passion. “I can check the location of other safe houses in the area.”
“I’ve always got the condo, but the other guys are crashing there right now. Might be a bit crowded,” he said. He should call Kyle, fill him in on what was happening. Let him know they were safe. Yeah, that was best. No more of this acting on his own shit. Hell, his team was like the fucking Musketeers—all for one and one for all. “I’ll contact my team leader.”
Hayley nodded and headed over to a bench to set up her lapto
p.
Scotty pulled out his cell and hit the speed dial for Kyle. So what if it was the ass crack of dawn. His team mates never had a problem interrupting his sleep when it suited their needs. Turnabout was fair play. And a bitch. He frowned. No wait, that was karma.
Anyway, he was calling. End of story.
The phone rang once. Twice.
A twig snapped nearby and silence settled over the area.
Things were quiet. Too fucking quiet.
Behind him, Hayley yelped and Scotty swiveled fast, taking in the scene in flashes.
Three men. All armed. One with a semi-automatic and a laser guide pointed at Scotty’s chest. The second guarding the perimeter. The third with his arm around Hayley’s neck from behind, the barrel of his gun poised at her temple.
“Hello?” Kyle’s sleepy voice rang through the phone. “Jesus, Scotty. It’s five o’clock in the fucking morning.”
The thug with his laser hovering over Scotty’s heart, raised his chin. “Phone on the ground, asshole.”
As if to emphasize the point, the dude holding Hayley cocked his gun and smiled. “Do it, or I blow her brains all over this place.”
Fuck.
Scotty crouched slow and placed his phone on the pavement near his feet, Kyle’s voice still echoing in the early morning stillness. “Scotty, dammit. If this is some kind of prank, I’m going to find you and I will kill you.”
No prank, sir. No joke.
“Kick it over here,” laser guy said.
He did as the thug instructed then straightened, hands raised, and glanced at Hayley. She looked terrified, but unharmed, for now. Judging by the way these guys were dressed in the latest body armor with the latest assault weapons, they were private security. Government guns-for-hire didn’t have that kind of bling. So, it seemed his little hacker had drawn the attention of someone other than her FBI counterparts.
The thug crushed the screen of Scotty’s phone under the heel of his boot, never once removing his gaze from Scotty. “Good. Now, we have a message for you.”
Of course they did. Scotty avoided rolling his eyes, barely. “What?”
“Your girlfriend here for your team. Fair trade. Your choice.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” Hayley bucked hard against the guy holding her and received a hard smack to the head with the butt of his gun. She went limp in his arms and Scotty winced on her behalf. Blood oozed from the fresh cut on her temple and white-hot anger surged through his veins. These fuckers would pay for that.
“Now, take a nap, soldier boy.”
Scotty snorted. Soldier boy? Really? Obviously he wasn’t dealing with a brain trust.
He relaxed his arms and lowered his hands and was just about to step forward and deal with these amateurs by opening a good old-fashioned can of SEAL-sized ass-whoop on them, when pain exploded in the back of his head. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the cement, his vision tunneling and the side of his face flaring with pain as his cheekbone made hard contact with the ground.
A fourth pair of combat boots filled what was left of his vision and a voice that sounded vaguely familiar echoed in his ears as the last threads of consciousness deserted him. “Your team for your girl. Your choice. You got forty-eight hours.”
Chapter Eleven
“What the…” Hayley groaned softly and rolled onto her side. Squinting her eyes open, she gazed around the unfamiliar space. Nothing but bland beige walls and empty hardwood floors. The tang of fresh paint and drywall hung heavy in the dusty air.
She pushed herself up on one arm and kicked away the tarp tangled around her feet. The last thing she remembered was kissing Scotty, then someone grabbed her from behind. Then chaos. Wincing, Hayley lifted a hand to her sore temple and gently rubbed the small knot there. Whoever had taken her had whacked her good on the side of the head.
Her ears still rang slightly from the impact and she opened and closed her mouth several times to relieve the annoying buzz. This place looked like some kind of construction site. A quick check of the rest of her person showed they hadn’t done more than dump her in here, thank God. No restraints around her wrists or ankles, no other…violations.
A shudder ran through her.
Yeah, as much as getting kidnapped sucked, things could’ve been so much worse.
Voices sounded from the hallway outside her door and her pulse quickened. Okay. She laid back down and pretended to be out cold. That seemed like her best option—only option, really—at this point. She’d just rearranged herself on the tarp again when the door creaked open and heavy footsteps entered.
“She alive?” one of the arrivals asked. Deep, gritty voice. No accent. Male.
The footsteps moved closer and Hayley forced herself not to hold her breath. She needed these people to think she was not dead. Lack of breathing wouldn’t help her cause. A finger poked her shoulder, tipping her from her side to her back. The observer took a deep breath, then placed their hand on her neck, presumably to feel for her heart beat. “Yeah, she’s still good.”
Another male, based on the gruff tone. This one didn’t sound familiar either.
“I don’t like this,” the first guy said. “He ain’t paying me enough for this shit.”
“The fact someone’s paying you at all should make you happy, dumbass.” The second guy, the one closest to her, said, then moved away. “Now shut the fuck up and get back downstairs for the meeting.”
Guy number one mumbled something Hayley didn’t quite catch and stomped away. Once his footsteps receded, she took a chance and peeked one eye open, glanced sideways and spotted a medium-sized man sporting burglar black and a shiny bald head. He made a slow perimeter of the room, checking the one window. As if sensing her gaze, he swiveled fast to face her and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping like hell he hadn’t caught her snooping. Seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness as she waited for him to attack.
Finally, he walked out too, locking the door behind him.
Alone once more, Hayley stared up at the ceiling and did her best to slow her thudding heart. Were they working for Michelle? Granted, she hadn’t recognized the couple of guys she’d seen, but that didn’t mean her boss hadn’t recruited fresh blood. Or were they working for someone else, someone like Michael Becks? Her blood ran cold at the thought. From what Scotty had told her and what she’d found in the files on Natalie’s computer, they guy had wiped out his own SEAL team without a second thought. He’d have no qualms about ending her at all if it served his purposes. Either way, she’d better think of a way to escape and fast.
Despite the constant, low throb in her temple, Hayley concentrated on the details from her abduction once more.
Scotty had been on the phone with his team leader when she’d been nabbed from behind. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the cold metal gun barrel pressed to her skin, smell the slight odor of sweat from her attacker, hear his raspy breath in her ear. The way he’d held her immobile showed some type of combat training. He’d had close-cropped dark hair and bulky muscles, like a body builder. Or private security, maybe?
But what the hell would private security want with a bunch of out-of-work, down-on-their-luck SEALs? The one demand they’d made echoed in her head like a gong.
Your girlfriend here for your team. Fair trade. Your choice.
They wanted Scotty’s team, just as Michelle had, but why?
It made no sense. Unless…
Unless whoever was behind her kidnapping was also the same person who’d orchestrated the cover-up and framing of Scotty’s SEAL team. Blood thundering through her veins, Hayley scrambled to her feet. She needed to get the hell out of here and warn Scotty and his friends about what was going on.
There was the window, of course, but she’d rather not have to take that route again, except as a last resort. The two guys that had been in here had mentioned a meeting. Maybe she could find a way out of the room and sneak downstairs.
Ear to the door, she strained to hear any noises,
conversations, anything. But there was nothing. Okay. She’d have to pick the lock. Those skills she’d learned back in Quantico were coming in handy yet again. She kicked off her sneaker and dug into the toe of it for her army knife. She’d at least managed to keep that hidden when they’d frisked her earlier. She flipped open the tiny tools until she came to a thin metal file. Great. Now all she needed to find was a counterbalance amongst the scattered construction supplies to trip the tumblers.
Minutes later, she’d discovered a metal paper clip binding a stack of floorboards. Not ideal, but if she twisted it just so, it might work. Hayley crouched in front of the lock and inserted the file first, then the clip. The trick was to fool the tumblers into falling into place. It was all about weights and counterweights, checks and balances, give and…
Click-click.
The door eased open a crack and she grinned.
All righty then.
Stuffing her knife and the clip into the back pocket of her jeans, Hayley peered out into the hallway, then eased herself into the empty corridor. Low murmurs drifted upward from the floor below and she tiptoed to the edge of the upper landing, leaning over the railing slightly to make out what they were saying.
Still too far away, she eased down a few steps and stopped again. This time she caught a bit more of the conversation. Namely, “have the snipers set up around the perimeter of the C&O Canal in Georgetown” and “take out as many of those Team Ten bastards as you can”.
Oh, shit.
Hayley crept back up to her room and shut the door again. She needed to get out of here and warn Scotty. Knowing him, he’d probably already called in the cavalry to save her. Such an honorable, irritating, thoroughly intriguing man. Warmth spread outward from her chest to her extremities despite the situation. If they made it out of this… No. She shook her head. When they made it out of this, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. The way he always cracked jokes to make her smile, the warm, protective weight of his hand on her back as he walked with her, the way he’d stuck with her and their agreement to work together when he could’ve just as easily blown her off completely. Not to mention the guy cooked, for God’s sake.