“What about the others in the group?”
“The family of five due to tour canceled. Half the family started puking the day before they were going to fly out of wherever the hell they were coming from.” The kid flicked his wrist as though a family of five matter no more than a speck of dirt.
“So, you let him wander into the middle of nowhere all by himself?”
“It’s not like he was helpless. He looked like he could handle shit.” His scrawny shoulders rolled in a near boneless sway.
He had a point. She’d trust Zeke to do a better job navigating the wilderness than she would this shit. “How the hell did you get to be responsible for people’s lives?”
“I grew up roaming these parks.”
“And?”
“My uncle owns the company.”
And there was her answer. She sneered. “Get out of my face, Isay.”
“Yeah, all right.” He teetered across the small dirt lawn, his feet leaving deep prints in the mud.
Khani looked down at her ruined shoes. The disappointment that had nothing to do with boots weighted her more than the extra muck. She stamped the few feet to the SUV and flung herself inside without looking at Street.
“What were they celebrating?” he asked.
“Being asshats. Please, just drive.”
The vehicle eased out of the drive and headed up the road. Relief, the tiniest bit of it, eased one of the cramps in her brain. She sank back into the seat and tried to think about what she knew, but a piercing headache blanketed all thought. Her eyes closed out the blurring lights. Two minutes later the car stopped. She blinked in the neon open sign on the low-key tavern.
“You need to eat. I need to eat.” Street shut off the engine and climbed out of the car.
She could sit here for the forty or more minutes it took him to eat or she could go inside and hope her appetite returned. Her door opened and Street stood there waiting with a reticence she truly appreciated. Her mud-caked boots slopped across the plastic floor mat, and then plopped onto the concrete sidewalk. He closed the car door and walked ahead, grabbing the handle of the pub’s door and opening it for her.
“What are you, some kind of gentleman?”
“Not a chance.”
On safe-mode so she didn’t totally flip her shit, Khani followed demurely behind Street to a four-seater booth. She slid in across from him and stared into his eyes, which reflected the green neon of a beer brand she’d never seen before.
“What’ll you have?” the burliest server in all the world grumbled.
“Two waters, two pints of the best dark you have, and a menu, thanks,” Street said.
The man grunted his compliance as he shoved off.
Street knocked the table with his knuckles, slowly at first and then faster and faster.
“Say what you have to say already,” she snapped.
“He was lying?”
“The waiter didn’t say anything.” She flashed an imitation grin.
“That’s not who I’m talking about and you know it.” He rested his elbows on the table.
She flattened her hands on the table. “You were in the car. You don’t even know what Isay said. So, how the hell do you know he was lying?”
“I read his body language.”
“Oh, you’re a good interpreter of drunken stumbles and higher than the sky gestures?”
“Reading people is what I do. That’s why I moved up so fast in the Branch office.” He dragged in a breath and his brow furrowed. “I’ve had specific training that allows me to tell with upward of ninety-percent accuracy whether or not people are telling the truth.”
“Even when you’re stuck in a vehicle and not talking to them?”
He folded his big arms over his chest. “It’s easier when I’ve talked to them for a while, identified a base-line, and questioned them for longer. But I’m telling you now, he was lying.”
“Isay didn’t want to tell me Zeke paid him to let him go into the fucking underworld by himself. If his uncle, a-k-a his employer, knew, he’d get fired.”
“And you believe that?” Street arched a brow.
“If something happens to their patron while on their roster, they could be held liable, especially if there was negligence on the part of the company.”
He lowered his head. “I want to talk to him.”
“There’s nothing he can do for us…me. He doesn't know where Zeke is.”
The server smacked down their foam-topped beers in tandem, stalked to the bar, and then headed back with two pints of water. He delivered them in the same brutish method. Khani nodded at him, liking his style. No nonsense.
Street took a long pull of creamy foam. “What did he know?”
“He last saw Zeke on the west side of the park, at the Copper Landing campground, close to where Kenai Lake and the Russian River meet. Oh.” She lifted a finger. “And that the Kenai Park is a million bloody acres around.” Khani chugged the first third of her frothy pint.
“How’s your neck?” That green tinted gaze caressed her tender throat.
“Fine.” She took another swig. “He was a pussy.”
“The clamp he had on you didn’t look too slight from my vantage point.”
“You didn’t see the clamp I had on him.” She pointed her finger at his chest.
His face contorted. “I saw enough to know he won’t walk right for a week.”
“He earned it.”
“Without a doubt. But it still hurts me.” He shifted in the seat and adjusted his trousers.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what, letting you get choked?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“You’re nuts.” He laughed.
“Thank you for not charging into the middle of it. Thank you for letting me handle the situation.”
“If I’d thought you’d needed help, I’d have busted all their heads no matter how mad you got.” He leaned back against the seat. “Those kids were punks. You could have taken them all on at once.” He drummed the table with his thumbs. “I was actually kind of hoping they’d make a go at you.”
“I bet you were.”
“I was bored.”
“After we eat, we can head out to Kenai and—”
Street shook his head. “We’ll pack up tonight, get a few hours of sleep, and be at the campground by dawn. We won’t do anyone good by getting lost in the middle of blasted nowhere.”
“Look who’s bossy now.”
9
What had the kid been lying about?
Street dragged the razor over his cheek. The quad-blades blazed a trail through the suds, leaving smooth skin in its wake. He maneuvered the cutting edge around his ear lobe, and then rinsed the tool under the steaming water.
Isay Polzin lived by his own set of rules. The blatant use of alcohol and illegal drugs said as much. If he wasn’t worried about getting hauled to jail over some pot, what did he have to hide?
He cupped water into his palms and washed away the excess soap. The warm water soothed the tiny nick he’d carved out of his neck. Water pooled in his hands and he submerged his face in it as much as he could and held his breath, willing his desire away. He wanted answers. He wanted Khani more.
Three hand-jobs in as many hours had only provoked his body and deteriorated his self-control. His gaze slid to the glowing red clock on the end table sandwiched between two queen beds. He’d only slept on one. What a waste.
Twilight started at the unholy hour of three forty a.m. with sunrise following an hour behind. The digital readout said he had just enough time to rub one out, get dressed, and then meet Khani in the lobby. Street cupped his sore balls and massaged away the ache, which would only multiply with another orgasm so closely behind the last three. They relaxed into his touch. He lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and pictured her long legs wrapped around his waist.
A groan echoed off the bathroom walls. His touch moved higher, toying with his sensitive skin be
fore he palmed the solid length. Stroke by stroke his hips joined the lightly rising tempo of motion.
Three abrupt knocks ricocheted through the room and his thickening haze of lust.
“Fuck me hard, why don’t you?”
A small, but insistent hand wrapped on the door again.
Street released his reddened cock with another soft curse and stalked through the room. Through the peephole he watched Khani lift her fist to knock again. He snatched the door open before she made contact. “You’re early,” he barked.
Her gaze widened for a second, and then tightened on his erect dick. The grey of her eyes clouded. She squeezed the rucksack’s strap so hard the padded fabric crinkled under grip.
His cock bobbed in appreciation of her reaction. His lungs tightened. He waited for her to do something. To say something. ‘Get on the bed,’ ranked high on his list of things he silently begged her to say.
Khani’s lips parted. Her breaths came in shallow pants. “Sorry for the interruption.”
She extended her index finger, and then swiped it across the slit at the crown of his cock. The touch lit his fuse, burning it to the very edge of his skin. Khani studied the clear pre-cum beaded on the end of her finger. Her pink tongue extended. She swiped the evidence of his desire off the tip of her finger. His heart exploded inside his chest.
Her tongue rolled around her mouth. Her eyes closed. A moan purred in the back of her throat.
Like a loyal dog, he stood rock solid and eager to follow her instructions. Ten years ago the notion that he’d follow anyone’s instructions—especially a woman’s half his size—would’ve stitched his sides in laughter. But there was nothing funny about Khani’s blatant passion and the need she had for control. Even more sobering was his willingness to give her what she needed.
Slowly her lids fluttered opened. She licked her lips, and then her mouth formed a solid line. “Get dressed. We have shit to do.”
The words punched him in the nuts. He wrestled with the pain of rejection and the arguments poised on the end of his tongue. She obviously wanted him. He was blatantly willing. His ornery cock refused to submit.
Street scrubbed a hand over his face. He moved to the bed, snatched his boxers, and then shoved his legs inside. Grey hiking pants to his white tee, she stood in the open doorway and watched him dress. Instead of deflating, he grew impossibly harder. How did she make getting dressed a form of foreplay? He dove into his light jacket and jerked his pack onto his shoulder.
“Ready, mum.”
“I’m driving.”
He almost said, ‘no shit,’ but he clenched his jaw and followed her out the door and into the stairwell. Her almost black hair bounced as she descended the flight with rapid stamps of her treaded boots. Out the front door the SUV idled by the curb. Its lights cut through the darkness.
“When did you wake up?”
She hurried ahead. “Couldn’t go to sleep.”
“You should’ve come by earlier. I know a good way to beat insomnia.”
“That wouldn’t have helped me sleep.” She tossed her gear into the back and hurried to the driver’s seat.
Oh, he could fuck her into unconsciousness, if she’d let him. But what little trust he’d gained with her seemed to be slipping through his fingers. Street deposited his sack beside her lopsided one. They left the long-range rifles and heavy artillery behind, since this was a scouting mission of sorts. As it was, the two bags nearly devoured the entire footprint of the back. He righted hers, closed the hatch, and climbed into the passenger seat.
“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” he asked.
Khani shifted the vehicle to drive. “About forty-eight hours now.”
“If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t do Zeke any good.”
“Like forty-eight is a big deal. You know it’s not.” She rocketed away from the hotel.
“Buckle up.” Street gave the order and pulled his own safety belt into place.
“Fuck you.”
“Even better.”
A breath snorted through her nostrils. She took the corner so hard Street grabbed the oh-shit handle near his head.
“You can buckle it or I will,” he said.
“I’d love to see you try,” she challenged.
“I bet you would.” He dropped his grip. The handle smacked the SUV’s roof. He shifted and the leather beneath him squeaked.
She yanked the buckle across her chest and stabbed it into the receiver. The click rang off the windows.
“And forty-eight isn’t bad when you’re in the middle of a mission, but I have a suspicion we’ve just started this adventure.”
“If you don’t close your mouth, I’m going to use my ball-gag on you.”
“You have one of those?”
She snapped her gaze to his and rolled her eyes before returning her attention to the road. “What do you think?”
“I think you need control to be able to get off, but I didn’t think you were a full-on dominatrix.”
“Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are.” A hostile grin contorted her red lips.
This woman had rolled until midnight and had been ready to go again at three a.m. with no sleep to speak of over the last two days and still make-up perfectly accentuated her face. Why? Who the hell did she have to impress in a town where flannel and feather-stuffed jackets were all the rage? It certainly wasn’t him. She only used him to hone her latest torture techniques.
Khani drove like the sunrise would turn them to a pile of ashes. Her gaze bounded from the road, to the clock lighting the dash, to the left where the burning ball of gas brightened the sky one lumen at a time.
“Stop worrying.”
“Stop talking,” she snapped.
“Hikers won’t set out until sunrise and most of the people near the lakes and rivers are there to fish. They’ll hang around shore at the campground all day.”
“I’m really going to have to teach you how to listen.”
“Promises. Promises.”
Her head shook back and forth. “You’re not a submissive.”
“No, but I could be yours.”
She straightened and rolled her shoulders. “It doesn’t work that way. You either crave it or you don’t.”
“Khani…” He waited until her gaze met his. It took two-and-a-half miles for her relent. Only when their gazes locked in a dangerous embrace did he speak. “I crave you.”
The car slowed. Their gazes held for too long on the winding valley roads. His heart beat double-time. Her head jerked back to the windshield with a huff.
Grey cotton-candy clouds stuck to the tops of the mountains on either side of the vehicle. They thickened the air and revealed the source of all slicked streets and saturated ground. On their left a swollen river weaved through the valley, bowing and arching at the roadside. To the right sheered off slopes stood as impassable sentries to the wilderness.
“We’re getting close to the campground. Take my phone and send the latest picture in my camera roll to your phone. It’s the last picture I have of Zeke.”
“It won’t be the last,” he said, praying he was right.
“We’ll split up the immediate area. Use the picture. Look for him. Ask people if they’ve seen him.”
He didn’t bother telling her he knew how to search for someone.
“Also, watch your ass. If he knows a giant is looking for him and doesn’t know I’m there, he might come after you.”
“Awe, you’re worried about me. How cute,” he cooed.
“You think Seward has a kink store?” She slid a smirk over her shoulder. “I don’t think I can wait ’till DC for that gag.”
Street chuckled and grabbed her phone. He transferred the picture, and then stared at it for a minute. He’d done research on Zeke, as much as he’d dared without pissing her off. He’d seen a picture of the man before. The chap had been decked in black with bronze stars, his chin stony, eyes sharp, and shoulders at attention i
n his Royal Marines dress uniform. In the picture on the screen he looked like a different man. He donned nice leather shoes, jeans, and a casual sweater. His cheeks stretched wide in a grin and his eyes rolled slightly up as though he’d only allowed the picture to appease his sister.
“How do all these people have time to be fishing in the middle of the day? Don’t they have jobs?” she asked.
When he lifted his gaze more than thirty cars filled the blacktopped lot and another handful crowded the dark gravel extension. Past it, RV’s and tents sprinkled across the green grass. Half the occupants already dressed in hip-waders lined the shore almost shoulder to shoulder in what Street guessed were the best spots. Only a few lines breached the water. Most anglers situated their gear, checked their lines, and watched the rushing water.
“Most of the jobs in Alaska are seasonal. And you’re looking at one of them. Besides, a person could feed their family for a year with a good spring catch.”
“If you’re right, maybe we’ll get lucky and some of them will have seen Zeke. He was here nine days ago.”
“According to Isay.”
“Yes, according to the guide who was supposed to lead him through the three parks over seven days.”
“But didn’t,” he reminded. “That seems lavvy to me.”
“Lavvy?”
“Like the toilet. Stinky. Suspicious.”
“You don’t know my brother.”
“No, but I know people and business. If anything happened to your brother when they were supposed to be guiding him, that’s their company gone.”
“But Isay didn’t tell them.”
“It’s a bloody small town and that boy isn’t quiet about anything. You really think they didn’t know he was in Seward gettin’ bevvied every night?”
Khani opened her mouth, but no words came out. She clamped it shut. Her lips wiggled back and forth. “Aren’t they worried about bears?”
Avoidance. He should have expected as much. It’s what she did. “Only the slowest one,” he chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” she snapped.
He laughed about, her evasion not the bears, but she didn’t know that.
Khani whipped the SUV into an impossibly tight spot between a dually and a truck with wheels that would hit him mid-thigh. “Did you know one swipe of a grizzly’s paw can kill a person?”
Danger Mine: A Base Branch Novel Page 8