Spy, Spy Away

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Spy, Spy Away Page 12

by Diane Henders


  “If you don’t trust me enough to let me go now, I’m not going to be able to do much for you at the hotel.” I flung the words over my shoulder, hoping Hibbert could hear me.

  I flinched when he spoke beside my ear, his voice heavy with booze and menace. “I know where you live. I know where you work. If you double-cross me, you will be very, very sorry.”

  He released me so suddenly I nearly fell. Regaining my balance, I turned to face him as he pulled on an expensive-looking wool coat and offered his arm.

  I cranked on my best smile and took it.

  Hope rose when we stepped out into the cold darkness. Just him and me. I liked those odds a whole lot better.

  I was drawing a deep, calming breath when Hibbert yanked me close and pressed hard lips to mine, his thick tongue jamming into my mouth. I jerked back involuntarily, barely restraining the urge to spit and wipe my mouth.

  “Whassamatter?” He scowled, his fingers biting into my wrist. “I told you not to jerk me around.”

  “I’m sorry, you just startled me.”

  “Well, relax.” He kissed me again, forcing my head back while his tongue pushed deeper. His booze-and-cigarettes taste fouled my mouth and I determinedly suppressed my gag reflex.

  God, what if he had herpes or something? I pulled away, surreptitiously examining his mouth and panting with fake arousal. “Oh my God, Paul, where’s your car? I can’t wait to get you into bed.”

  No visible sores. Thank God. And with that much alcohol on his breath, maybe the bacteria would die. I hoped.

  He smirked and led me around the corner of the building to a small parking lot, pressing a button on his key fob. The silver Mercedes in front of us flashed its lights, and he opened the door and handed me into the passenger seat with exaggerated courtliness, staggering slightly.

  The gory recollection of my last run-in with a drunk driver rose in front of me, writhing and screaming. I drew a deep breath and shook myself free of the memory, easing my trank gun out of its hiding place as Hibbert crossed in front of the car.

  Time to end this.

  My gun hand trembled violently and I pressed it between my thigh and the passenger door, my pulse reverberating in my ears.

  Hibbert half-fell into the driver’s seat and pushed the key in the vicinity of the ignition, finding it on the second try. The door locks clicked shut and he peered at me in the dim illumination of the streetlights for a moment before grabbing a handful of hair at my nape, his nails scoring my scalp.

  “I don’ trust you.” His words were so slurred I couldn’t believe he thought he was capable of driving.

  I held myself still and put on a hurt face. “How can you say that?”

  “Easy. I don’ trust you. Gimme a little token of good faith.”

  He yanked my head down toward his lap, unzipping his pants with his free hand. “Jus’ a quickie before we go.”

  Off balance, I braced against him, trying to catch myself without appearing to pull away.

  “Oh God, yes, Paul,” I gasped, easing my gun up while he fumbled at his crotch.

  As his half-mast erection emerged like a pale slug from the dark recesses of his pants, I sucked in a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

  He collapsed, his torso flopping forward to trap my head between him and the steering wheel.

  I struggled frantically, unable to get purchase and unwilling to put my hands anywhere near his lap.

  Don’t breathe. Probably still aerosolized anaesthetic in the air. My pulse hammered in my ears.

  Lungs straining, I heaved backward only to be jerked to a halt when his limp fingers snarled in my hair.

  “Fuck-fuck-fuck…” The high-pitched obscenities squeezed out on a breath I couldn’t hold any longer while I tore myself loose. Red and black pulsed at the edges of my vision.

  Clawing at the door, I couldn’t find the unfamiliar lock release.

  Dammit, the anaesthetic should have dissipated by now.

  Just as I found the lock button, my starved lungs made the decision for me.

  Chapter 15

  “Hey, darlin’, wake up.”

  A familiar gravelly voice spoke while a gentle hand patted my cheek. “Come on, Aydan, rise an’ shine.”

  I dragged my eyes open to focus blearily on Hellhound’s face floating above me.

  Shit, what was he doing here?

  I lurched into sitting position, and the snow-covered parking lot rocked and billowed. The passenger door of the Mercedes stood open beside me. Hibbert was still behind the wheel, but the driver’s door was open, too, and he had been repositioned leaning back in his seat.

  “Fuck!” I clutched Hellhound’s arm and hauled myself approximately upright. The ground tossed like an angry ocean and I staggered between the swells, caroming around the front of the car and falling to my knees beside the driver’s seat.

  “Come on, darlin’. Think you’ve had a little too much to drink.” Hellhound’s hand closed on my elbow, but I shook him off.

  Hibbert divided into twins and I squeezed one eye shut to make him rejoin.

  Come on, body, get with the program. My brain was working fine, but frustration mounted while my clumsy fingers fumbled into my waist pouch.

  “Come on, darlin’. Let’s go.”

  “Gotta finish.” My ungainly tongue barely managed the words.

  I managed to extract my tinted lip balm just as Hellhound chuckled. “Don’t bother, darlin’, he’s passed out cold. Don’t waste a perfectly good blowjob on a guy that can’t appreciate it.”

  I glared up at two Hellhounds before closing an eye again so I knew which one to address. “You seers… seriously think I’d blow this shac… sacka shit?”

  I made a circle of my thumb and forefinger and swirled the lip balm around and around inside, applying a thick coat before hunching over Hibbert.

  “Jesus, don’t puke on him!” Hellhound grabbed my shoulders and dragged me back.

  I scowled up at him. “’M not puking. ‘M spitting!”

  I lurched forward again to drool inaccurately above Hibbert, sucking my cheeks to summon up more spit.

  “What the hell, Aydan?”

  I ignored Hellhound’s question, cupping my pink-rimmed hand under my mouth to catch more spit before reaching squeamishly for Hibbert’s crotch.

  Hellhound’s bellow of laughter told me he’d finally figured it out.

  A few moments later he helped me up, still chuckling, and leaned in to examine Hibbert. “Best blowjob he never had,” he assured me. “That pink lipstick’s perfect. An’ he’s gonna wake up sittin’ in a helluva wet spot.”

  “Great,” I mumbled, clinging to the door to prevent my knees from collapsing. “Get t’my truck. Gotta go cut off my hand now…”

  “Ya ain’t drivin’, darlin’. You’re shit-faced.”

  “’M not! ‘S trank. Fine inna minnit.”

  “Sorry, darlin’.” He stooped, and a moment later the parking lot flipped nauseatingly upside down as he lifted me over his shoulder.

  “Put me down…” I struggled half-heartedly but gave up after a moment. Better to get out of here as fast as possible. And he was right, I was in no shape to go anywhere under my own power.

  As he tucked me into the passenger seat of his SUV, I did some mental calculations. The last time I’d inhaled that tranquilizer, it had taken about ten minutes for me to wake up, and by that time my coordination had returned. If I hadn’t gotten a full dose, I probably still had a few minutes to go.

  I sighed and laid my head back.

  Parked behind another garbage dumpster in a deserted industrial park, Hellhound handed me my trank gun and the spent dart. “Thought ya might want these back.”

  I blew out a breath of relief. “Thank you! I was too stoned to think of that.” I pocketed both and turned to face him in the glow of his dashboard lights. “How did you find me?”

  “Weasel called an’ said ya were in trouble.”

  “Weasel called you?”

/>   “Yeah.” Hellhound frowned. “He said ya were tryin’ to get outta the bar without anybody seein’ ya, but a guy called Hibbert knew ya were there.”

  “He knows Hibbert?”

  “I told ya he was tapped into a buncha shit. That’s why I use the little slimeball for my snitch. Who’s Hibbert?”

  I sagged in the seat, ignoring his question. “Shit. I’m going to have to beat Weasel.”

  Hellhound eyed me with concern. “Ya know he likes that, right?”

  “I know.” I leaned my head back and studied the headliner in his SUV. “I promised I’d beat him up if he acted as my lookout. And he did. Just not quite the way I expected.” I swivelled my head to give Hellhound an inquiring eyebrow. “Did he rat me out to Hibbert?”

  “Nah. He said your guy saw ya on the security cameras.” He frowned. “What the hell were ya doin’ in there, anyway? That ain’t the kinda place ya wanna go for a quiet beer.”

  “Long story, and I can’t tell it to you. But thanks for rescuing me.” I shuddered.

  Hellhound reached to stroke my hair, his brow still furrowed. “Sorry I didn’t do anythin’ sooner, darlin’. When I got there, ya were just comin’ outta the bar, an’ ya looked so friendly I didn’t wanna fuck up anythin’. I wasn’t sure anythin’ was wrong ‘til I saw ya pass out.”

  I shuddered again, fighting an internal battle, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Did my face touch his dick?” The question burst out of me.

  “What?” The corner of his mouth lifted.

  “I said, did my face touch his dick? When I passed out?”

  Hellhound laughed. “Nah, ya were on the other side of the car.”

  I rubbed my palm against my jeans, shuddering at the recollection of what I had recently handled. “That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done in my life. Including crawling around on a filthy, puke-covered floor.” I shot him a glance of wide-eyed entreaty. “You wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, would you?”

  He eyed me seriously for a moment. “Actually, I would, just so ya wouldn’t rip your own face off. But I ain’t lyin’ this time. There’s no way your face coulda touched his dick.”

  “Thank God.” I scrubbed my palm against my jeans again before reached into my waist pouch for my hand sanitizer.

  “Stop, darlin’.” His hand closed around mine. “Ya washed for five minutes at the gas station. Ya used that hand cleaner twice already.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the palm, his beard and moustache sending tingles through my skin. “Trust me, your hand’s clean.”

  His thumb stroked across my palm, spreading my fingers while he kissed each of my fingertips, one by one. “Your fingers are clean.”

  He leaned in and his whiskers brushed my forehead before moving to my cheeks, trailing kisses all the way. “Your face’s clean.”

  When his lips touched mine, I sighed and pulled him closer, but he drew away after a light kiss and smiled down at me. “Your lips are clean.”

  He lowered his lips to mine again and this time he unhurriedly deepened the kiss, teasing me lightly with his magic tongue. I opened gratefully to his skillful touch, letting him eradicate Hibbert’s loathsome memory and teasing him in return.

  A moment later, Hellhound pulled back, smiling. “An’ your mouth’s clean,” he announced. “But ya had onions for supper.”

  “Oh!” I clapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry, I forgot! It was for lunch, and they were really strong. I can’t believe you can still smell them even after all the rinsing I did at the gas station. I’m sorry.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t apologize, darlin’, it doesn’t bother me a bit. I like onions. Gimme some more.”

  I drew back, my hand still covering my mouth. “Wait, let me have some breath mints first.”

  “Are ya kiddin’? An’ spoil those onions? Forget it.” He seized my hand and pulled me toward him while I pretended to resist, giggling. He pulled again and I yielded, leaning in to kiss him.

  “Now I got ya,” he mumbled against my lips.

  I purred satisfaction, letting my hand wander. “Is that your console shifter, or are you just really glad to see me?”

  He growled low in his throat. “I’m really glad to see ya.” His mouth captured mine. Hunger kindled low and hot and I pulled him closer, my pulse accelerating.

  His hands found my shoulders and he gently broke the kiss. “Darlin’, you’re some sweet distraction, but I gotta keep my eyes open here. I’m meetin’ a client.”

  “Oh.” I peered at him in the dimness. “I wondered why we were here. I thought you were just driving around until you were sure I’d sobered up.”

  “Well, that, too.” He grinned. “Good excuse to kidnap ya. I been missin’ ya, darlin’.”

  I reached for his hand, tracing his scarred and beautiful musician’s fingers. “I missed you, too.”

  “Then why’ve ya been avoidin’ me?”

  “I, uh…” I couldn’t keep my gaze from sliding away. “I just hate talking on the phone, that’s all.”

  “And…” he prompted.

  I sighed, withdrawing my hand. “I, um… I had a lot on my mind. I was really busy at work and I was doing a lot of therapy sessions with Dr. Rawling…”

  He watched me patiently. “And…”

  I stared out the windshield. The silence stretched.

  “An’ ya were so freaked out about cryin’ in front of me that ya ran scared,” he finished softly. “I told ya, darlin’, it ain’t anythin’ to be ashamed of.”

  I didn’t meet his eyes. “So what kind of a client wants to meet in the middle of nowhere at…” I glanced at my watch. “…midnight?”

  “Aydan.” His fingertips coaxed my chin around to face him. “I ain’t gonna make fun of ya just for bein’ human.”

  I dropped my gaze. “I know. Look, I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “You’re still runnin’ scared.” His quiet rasp froze me.

  I clenched my fists on my fraying emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to remember crying like a big fucking stupid pathetic baby and I don’t want to trust you and then watch you laugh while you rip my guts out!”

  “Aydan, I ain’t gonna-”

  “I know! My brain knows that but I… I just can’t...” I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the floor. “Look, I knew things would be weird between us and then you’d be mad because I don’t trust you enough, and I just… just…” I swallowed around the tightness in my throat. “Forget it.” I groped for the door handle. “I have to go. Thanks for everything. ‘Bye.”

  He leaned across to stop my hand. “Aydan, where d’ya think you’re gonna go on foot? We’re in the middle of nowhere. An’ anyhow…” His gaze searched my face. “We been through a lotta shit together. Will ya at least give me a chance to say my piece?”

  I crossed my arms over my heart to face him, stiffening my spine and raising my chin.

  He studied me in silence for a long moment. “You’re freakin’ out ‘cause ya think I’m gettin’ too close,” he said at last. “But ya gotta know I ain’t gonna trap ya like your fuckin’ asshole ex did, ‘cause ya know I ain’t ever gonna want commitment. So if ya really think I’m the kinda asshole that’ll hurt ya just for kicks, then fine, dump me now. But if ya don’t think that, why would ya run?”

  He relinquished my hand to cup my face in his palms, looking deeply into my eyes. “Aydan, I promise I ain’t mad. An’ I ain’t gonna treat ya any different than usual, so if ya don’t want it to be weird between us, just stop makin’ it weird.”

  His whiskery kiss touched my forehead like a blessing. “That’s all I got to say.” He released me and sat waiting in silence.

  After a couple of hard gulps, I managed a grin. “Well, shit, how stupid would I be to dump a guy who compliments me on my lip gloss when he sees it on another guy’s dick?”

  He burst into laughter. “Fuck yeah, darlin’. I’m a kee
per.”

  I reached gratefully for his hand. “You’re right, I freaked out. The last few months… I was dealing with a lot of shit and I… I just kind of ran from everything and everybody. I’m sorry, Arnie. It was stupid to make a big deal over this.”

  “It’s okay, darlin’, ya ain’t stupid, you’re just a little fucked up.” He folded me into his arms. “But I love ya anyway.”

  I cuddled into his embrace, marvelling at how safe those words sounded when I knew there was no expectation behind them.

  He tilted my chin up to study me anxiously. “Ya know what I meant, right? Ya ain’t gonna freak out again ‘cause I said I love ya?”

  I grinned and echoed his words from two months ago. “Well, hell, what’s not to love?”

  Chapter 16

  Hellhound consulted his watch, frowning. “She was s’posed to be here ten minutes ago. Hope nothin’ happened to her.”

  “Oho, it’s a ‘her’,” I teased. “Is this business or pleasure?”

  He grinned, but his eyes were worried. “Strictly business, darlin’.” His smile slipped away. “She phoned me this afternoon, an’ she sounded scared as hell. Like she’d been cryin’ all day. Said she thought her ex was stalkin’ her, an’ she needed to know for sure.”

  His worry transmitted itself to me. “She shouldn’t have called you, she should have called the police.”

  “That’s what I told her.” His frown deepened. “I gave her the number for the women’s shelter an’ told her to call the cops, but she said she was scared to call them an’ she needed a private investigator.” He scanned the empty parking lot again. “Fuck, Aydan, I hope nothin’ happened to her.”

  I squeezed his hand in silence, knowing how close to home his fear was. I was casting about for something encouraging to say when he stiffened. “That’s prob’ly her.”

  A taxi turned into the parking lot and headed in our direction, pulling in on the other side of the dumpster.

  “D’ya mind comin’ with me, darlin’?” Hellhound reached for the door handle. “She might feel safer seein’ a woman with me. I ain’t exactly a nice-lookin’ guy.”

 

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