by Ana Ban
“Okay,” I spoke barely above a whisper.
Alerted by my tone, Donovan approached the bed, sinking down beside me. His hand rested lightly against my arm.
“Are you all right?”
That felt like a loaded question. “Yes.”
“You’re not sorry for what happened between us, are you?”
Taking in a breath, I blew it out before answering. “No. That... that was amazing.”
His smile could have lit the room.
“It’s just… a lot has happened recently. I feel so lost, having people targeting me but not understanding why. Feeling things without the memories to back them up.” As I said the words, I realized they were true both for myself and the role I was playing.
Donovan’s hand moved from my arm to my cheek, leaning in to press his lips gently to mine.
“It will come back. You’re doing so well, you just need more time.”
Nodding, I made to stand up. “I’ll get ready to go.”
Escaping into the bathroom, I paused a moment to study myself in the mirror. My lips were swollen from his kisses, and I touched my lips lightly in awe. For a long time, I simply stared at my reflection, wondering who the stranger was staring back at me.
I was acting completely out of character. In my entire life, I don’t know that I’d ever broken down and cried like I had last night. Not when my father beat me, not when my mother died. The stress of training for the police academy, the sleepless nights or 80-hour work weeks once I’d passed. All of the relationships I’d failed at. None of it had ever brought me to the bottom I’d hit last night.
Then this morning… that hadn’t been a spur of the moment act. I’d thought it out, reasoned it out, and given myself over to it based on feeling and pure need.
Blasting the water, I stepped into the shower, allowing the heat to soak through my sore muscles. Now that I’d had proper rest, I could feel each and every muscle I’d overused in the last two days. I washed quickly, knowing Donovan would want to be on our way.
Wrapping myself in a towel, I stepped out to find Donovan cooking breakfast, a mug of coffee already waiting for me on the counter.
“We’ve no tea here,” Donovan explained, gesturing towards the caffeine fix. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a similar pair of cargo pants that we’d both donned yesterday. “Eggs will be ready in just a minute.”
“Sounds great,” I told him, opening the drawers and pulling out my own matching outfit. Facing the wall, I dressed quickly, too chicken to find out if he was watching me.
Fully dressed, I perched on one of the stools at the counter, sipping the hot liquid Donovan had prepared for me in appreciation. When I looked up, Donovan’s eyes were on me, a small smile on his face.
“What?” I asked, bewildered by his expression.
“You look much better,” he told me, scraping eggs onto two plates. Circling the counter to sit by me, he set down the dishes before speaking again. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I can only imagine how overwhelming everything must be. Just remember, you have me to help you through it. I don’t expect anything from you but to continue to heal.”
Shifting my gaze to the food, I picked up a piece of toast and bit into it. “I don’t feel like I’m the person you knew.”
“You are. And you’re not,” Donovan answered, which only caused me to look back at him in confusion. “Memory loss is a tricky business. You may not make the same decisions as you would have before, but that’s because you don’t have your memories to rely on for advice. You won’t make the same decisions, nor do I expect you to. But you, the person you are inside, the feelings you possess and the way you make me feel, that’s all the same.”
For a long time, I studied him, falling just a bit deeper than I already was, while also feeling relieved. Here, I’d been trying so hard to make the decisions Selena would make, to sound and act the same, when Donovan expected none of it.
“Thank you,” I finally said quietly. “You have no idea what a relief that is.”
Grasping my hand, he brought it to his mouth to press a kiss in the exact center of my palm. My heart fluttered uncontrollably in my chest.
“Eat up,” he encouraged. “We’ve a long day ahead.”
Dutifully taking a bite of my eggs, I finished the meal quickly before picking up the small mess we’d left. When I went to make the bed, I brushed a hand against the soft sheets, the memory of this morning stirring my desire once again. I glanced over to Donovan, but he was shoving things into his pack.
I could no longer deny my attraction or desire for this man. If giving in only strengthened my cover, was the risk of losing my heart worth it?
Making the bed, I crouched beneath it and pulled out the hidden arsenal, strapping two guns and several knives to my belt.
Donovan came over as I was slipping on the same jacket I’d used the day before.
“You know we’re only going to our other home, not into combat.”
Raising a brow, I answered, “Aren’t they one and the same nowadays?”
“Point taken,” he frowned, selecting weapons for himself before sealing the drawer back under the bed. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
We left together, heading down the stairs and into the lower levels.
“What else is in this building?” I asked as Donovan worked his magic to slide open hidden doors.
“It’s empty,” he told me. “Condemned.”
That made sense. We exited the building into the cavernous room which held Donovan’s motorcycle, the only mode of transportation we used in the subterranean tunnels. He got on first, handing me his backpack. Slipping it on my own back, I took my seat, wrapping my arms around his chest.
The tension that normally surrounded us was down to a pleasant hum. Pressing against his back, I watched our surroundings as we sped off through the main tunnel, in an entirely new direction. After several minutes we pulled off, parking alongside a wall.
Donovan placed his hands against the nearly invisible crack in the wall, activating the mechanism to open the door. Before we went inside, Donovan took the backpack from me, slinging it over one shoulder. Then, taking my hand, he led me up the stairs.
As all the other buildings we used, we went up three flights of stairs before coming to another hidden door. Once through this door, we were on the basement level of the building. Any occupants besides the two of us would never know there was so much more to the structure.
Instead of continuing up the stairs, Donovan exited at the main floor, guiding me through a tiled lobby to a set of elevators. There were security guards behind a main desk who simply nodded to Donovan and myself. The large space spoke of money and privilege.
Donovan surpassed two main elevators and stopped in front of a third, offset in its own alcove. When he pushed the call button, a red light blinked several times, and I realized it was reading his thumbprint.
The elevator dinged and opened, and we stepped inside. Here, there were no buttons, and Donovan spoke.
“Penthouse.”
The doors slid closed and we began our ascent to the top floor.
“The top two floors are ours,” he explained to me. “We own the building, but the rest are upscale condos. The very top floor is our second home. The floor below that holds our personal secondary offices.”
I nodded, waiting for the elevator to pause. “It’s safe here?”
He gave me a sidelong look. “Less people are aware of this location. It’s as safe as we can be without just staying in the safehouse.”
The elevator came to a stop, and we stepped out into a short hallway. A reinforced door stood before us. Donovan placed his hand on a screen beside the door, then bent forward to allow an eye scan. When the door opened, he pulled me inside.
The setup inside was very similar to the first penthouse I’d stayed in, with wide open spaces and soft colors. Running a hand along the peach colored couch, I look at Donovan.
; “Is this bullet proof?”
He smiled. “Yes. We had it specially made.”
That cleared up one thing about the raid. It wasn’t simply luck that no bullets had found their way through the fabric of the couch.
Dropping the bag on the counter, Donovan walked to a sliding door, watching the scene below. “It’s not as nice a view as our other place, but it’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Stepping beside him, I looked out at the view of the docks. We were near to the opposite side of Baltimore from the penthouse that had been destroyed, but the easy access to the docks must help in their business.
“Is there a rooftop garden?” I asked.
“No,” he answered sadly. “But, I did ask Bruce to stock the fridge.”
Chapter 5
Selena
6 years ago
Tonight was the first night with Donovan. As I watched him approach, I practically vibrated in excitement.
Shoulders thrown back, exuding a confidence born from skill, Donovan entered the building and searched his surroundings with a critical eye. Stepping out of the shadows, I kept the distance between us in order for him to feel comfortable. I’d given him no details the night before, only asking him to meet me here, well after the time respectable people would be doing business.
“Hello again,” he greeted me warily. “Now that I’m here, can you tell me what it is you’re wanting from me?”
With a small smile, I answered him. “I’m looking for a partner,” I paused here, sweeping my eyes from his feet back to his hard gaze, “in business.”
“What kind of business?”
“Well, for one, I run the fights you’ve been competing in.”
He stilled, watching me even more carefully.
“However, I’m looking to expand, and I believe you’re the right person to assist me.”
“What’s your name?” He asked.
My smile turned sardonic. “I’m Selena.”
“All right, Selena, I’m listening.”
With a gesture behind me, I spoke again. “Come with me.”
Leading him through the main level of the empty building, I pushed open a door to a stairway. Taking the steps down at a leisurely pace, I remained silent while he followed diligently. At the basement level I paused, casting a glance over my shoulder. We walked into the empty space, reeking of mold. Against the wall lay a single sledgehammer, and I rose a brow at the silent man behind me.
“Go ahead, use it,” I encouraged.
“You brought me down here for demolition?”
“To begin with. I believe there is something beyond these walls that will be useful to us.”
With a shrug, willing to play along, Donovan scooped to retrieve the sledgehammer from its perch along the floor. With a mighty swing, he pulverized the wall, not stopping until there was a hole large enough to look through.
He paused, breathing heavy, and gestured for me to have a look. As I peered through, a smile lit my face.
“It’s exactly as I thought,” I whispered, excitement coursing through me. Stepping back, I held out a hand for Donovan. “Have a look.”
He stepped forward, sticking his head through the wall up to his shoulders. He let out a gasp of amazement.
Down below us, there was empty space. The empty space of long forgotten tunnels.
Chapter 6
Mia
Present Day
Bruce arrived exactly on time. From what Donovan told me, only the three of us had access to this home. He trusted Bruce implicitly, and it made me wonder how their relationship had formed.
We stood at the counter of the kitchen island as Bruce laid out plans for us to peruse. They were blueprints to rebuild our offices, and while Donovan studied them, I began to ask Bruce questions.
“How do you think the DeLuca’s were able to bypass our security?”
He sighed heavily, and I could see that he blamed himself. “Our system was nearly un-hackable, but not impossible. They must have had a computer genius working for them.”
Pondering that information, my thoughts drifted to Adam. He had access to police files, and my prints were in the system. I wondered if he’d been able to somehow use my prints to override the security.
“Were there any casualties in the offices?”
“Thankfully, no. We had several people in the hospital, but they are recovering.”
“We’re covering all their costs?”
“Of course, ma’am,” Bruce glanced to Donovan and back to me. “We’ve asked everyone to stay home for two weeks. They’ll receive pay as normal. Your top people are continuing operations from the secondary offices.”
I nodded, then looked to Donovan. He was done studying the plans, and I waited for his directions.
“These look fine, let’s get this started immediately. I’ve some new ideas for the penthouse, when we get to that point.”
“I’m on it,” Bruce assured him.
“We met with Tony DeLuca,” Donovan told him. “He assures me he will handle things on his end.”
“You don’t trust him,” Bruce stated, no question in his tone.
“No,” Donovan agreed. “They always take care of their family. Which is why we’re going to be using their cousin to our advantage.”
Bruce nodded. “What should I do with him until then?”
“Leave him,” Donovan said. “Bring him one meal a day, but otherwise no communication. We can’t trust anything he says, so we won’t listen. Then, when we’re ready, we’ll release him to his family. Notify the Boston PD on his true identity, we want to cut any ties he has, and that will also explain his disappearance.”
“Consider it done,” Bruce gathered the prints from the counter and turned to go. “I’ll keep you apprised of the progress.”
“Thank you, Bruce,” Donovan answered him.
Once he left, Donovan turned to me. “Hungry?”
“Sure,” I smiled, perching on one of the stools.
We ate at the counter, and we didn’t speak much throughout the rest of the day. I wandered the penthouse, finding a small exercise room which I made use of in my downtime. It felt we were perched on a precipice, secure for the moment, but one more step in any direction could potentially lead us off the edge.
After I’d gotten myself cleaned up, we shared a late dinner on the patio.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Donovan asked once we were finished eating. “I should contact our clients, let them know we’re still in business.”
Not wanting to argue, I simply nodded my assent. As he was leaving, he pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine. The fire ignited instantaneously, leaving me weak and needy in a matter of moments.
Donovan pulled his head back to look me deep in the eyes. I was able to feel his own need with our bodies pressed so tightly together, and it left me breathless. There was a single moment of clarity, urging me to stop, but that was quickly squashed. Since I was already on a slippery slope, I might as well steer into the skid.
His head dipped down again, meeting my lips with a passion I’d only ever read about. Wrapping his arms around me, he pushed my back against the wall. The jacket I still wore fell to the floor, followed quickly by both our shirts, and he made quick work of the button on my pants. As they slipped to the ground, he lifted me off my feet. With nothing to do but hang on for dear life, I wrapped my legs around his waist.
His mouth was at my neck, feathering kisses over any exposed skin he could reach. Without breaking contact, he was suddenly inside me, my body adjusting to his delicious invasion. I moaned for more, but pressed against the wall I could gain no leverage. I was completely under his control.
One of his hands wrapped around both my wrists, holding them above my head. I was completely helpless against his will, but every touch, each long stroke built in me a need that I feared would never be sated.
I screamed with my release, taking him over the edge with me.
Once Donovan had left to go to the
offices, I wrapped myself in a robe and found my way back to the patio. I stood at the railing, gazing over the docks by the light of the moon. I was so close to earning his complete trust, but I feared it was at my own peril. Each touch, every taste of his was seared into my brain. A thumb brushed gently across my wrist, sore from his restraint. The combination of rough, dominant male and gentle, loving man had awoken in me things I hadn’t even known existed. Dark needs that, given a lifetime with Donovan, might never be satisfied.
Would I be strong enough to take him down?
My ultimate target was Selena, but she seemed to be gone for good. Would I- could I turn Donovan in, when all this was said and done?
As I lay down that night, my thoughts were restless. Amazingly, wrapped in Donovan’s arms the night before, I’d slept deeply and well. Now, with so many thoughts circling my brain and Donovan’s absence, the dreams intruded.
There were two people in my room, discussing me as I slept. A woman’s voice spoke, and though it sounded like me, there was a hard edge to it that I didn’t possess.
“It’s time to move on to the next part of our plan,” her voice was hushed.
“She’s not ready,” a man’s voice this time, and I would have recognized the beautiful cadence anywhere. Donovan.
“You’re falling for her.” The tone was flat yet conveyed disgust, and I immediately took offense though I couldn’t be sure why.
“She’s a good person, Selena,” Donovan defended quietly.
Selena? This must be a dream, though it felt very real.
“She’s weak,” Selena’s voice snapped.
“Compassion isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength.”
Something lifted in my heart at hearing Donovan’s defense of me.
“What does that make me?” Selena’s voice had dropped, turned… seductive. “Do you think of me when you’re with her? Does she please you the same way I do?”
“There’s no one else like you,” Donovan’s voice came out husky. Any glow I’d received from his earlier words was crushed. “If you feel we’re ready for our next step, I will see it done.”