Locke and Key (Titan Book 12)

by Cristin Harber

  “I’m Cassidy. If you aren’t here to help, what would you be here to do?”

  Sugar tipped her head back and laughed, then joined them at the table, sitting across from Cassidy. Her black shirt had a distressed American flag waving across what looked like an ocean, and her fingernails were painted gray—except her pointer fingers were fuchsia. The whole look would have been odd, but she nailed it.

  Sugar held up her fingernails and wiggled them. “The pink works, huh?”

  “Yeah. It works.” Cassidy nodded.

  Sugar looked at her fingers. “Sometimes I do little things like this to drive Jared batshit. She wiggled her fingers and then pretended to shoot off into the air.

  Cassidy snort-laughed. It couldn’t be helped. Well, there was something to be said for a woman who liked to drive Jared Westin batshit. “Sounds like a fun hobby.”

  Beth pushed a piece of paper in front of Sugar. “If you have an opinion on this, that’s what we’re on. Otherwise—”

  “Are you sleeping with Locke? Or what’s going on there?” Sugar picked up the piece of paper but didn’t look at it.

  “Should have seen that coming,” Nicola muttered. “Sugar…”

  “Not sure who I’m sleeping with is your business.” Cassidy laced her fingers together and grinned. Sugar liked to play games. Good thing Cassidy had no time for bullshit. Or batshit.

  “Even if she was, Sugar, darling,” Beth added, “it’s not your business. And as I was saying—”

  Sugar laced her fingers together also. “It’s always my business.”

  “Then take it up with Jared.” Beth flicked the piece of paper. “This is what we’re talking about.”

  “While I appreciate”—Cassidy turned her head to look at Nicola and Beth—“you both defending my delicate honor, I don’t need you to.” She narrowed her eyes. “Whether I’m sleeping with Locke isn’t your business. Whatever he does outside this building and these jobs, including me, isn’t yours to know, whoever you are. You want to reword your question, try to explain how I’m wrong, I’ll just explain to you why you’re still wrong.” Cassidy folded her hands one over the other, mocking Sugar mocking her. “But, by all means, Sugar. Come at me. I’ll play for a few more minutes.”

  Sugar flattened her hands, eyes dancing, and the corners of her lips curled. “Come at you?”

  “Sure.” Cassidy bunched her shoulders. “I don’t have time for gossip. I literally just signed up to be a sold as a prostitute in Russia. If you’re worried about Locke, he’s fine. He’s a big boy. He’s smart. He’s lethal. He’s not gonna let me bring him down. And if you came in here to test me? Come. At. Me. With more than a little gossipy bullshit about who I might be fucking. Because, lady, I’ve been through congressional inquisitions, I’ve been deposed, I’ve been to prison after sitting in war without a weapon. So, sitting with you in a little conference room?” She shrugged. “You seem awesome—like you want to test me and you’re going easy. So get it over with.” Cassidy nodded to Nicola and Beth “And same goes for you two. If there’s anything you’re holding back, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t. Because I’d like to not get raped or die. Are we all on the same page?”

  Sugar grinned, seemingly pleased with her assessment. “Jesus fucking Christ, I hope you fuck his brains out. And then stick around for a while.” She winked at Beth. “That’s all I got.”

  Cassidy laughed, shaking her head. “All right, then.”

  Sugar dragged her pink nail down the piece of paper that Beth had given her and seemed to agree with what was on it. “If you need something to shoot and kill people with, find me. I’m your gun girl.”

  Then Sugar jumped up and left with the same explosive style that she’d blown in with.

  “So that’s Sugar.” Beth made big eyes as she laughed.

  Nicola had the same laugh, smile, and expression as Beth. “She and I had a rougher start. But she’s good people. Promise.”

  Cassidy lifted her shoulders. “I don’t doubt that, and I’m the guest. Vet me. I get it. You want to make sure that your team comes back safe, in one piece.”

  Nicola leaned back in her chair. “She’s also married to Jared and tortures him daily.”

  Cassidy laughed. “Ah, the pink trigger fingers—”

  The doorknob began to twist, and for a moment, Cassidy thought Sugar might come back, but it was Parker.

  “That fast?” Beth asked, reading his face.

  “Way more so than we expected.” He turned to her. “How are you?”

  “Fine,” Cassidy said, ignoring the jump in her stomach.

  “What kind of bite did they take?” Nicola asked.

  Parker slid his tablet onto the table “Hook, line, and sinker. Cassidy is a go. They’ve not only bought the idea of Locke and Jax as business partners, but are quickly trying to secure a few big purchases to make a name.”

  “I am one of those?” Cassidy bounced her heel under the table.

  “I doctored a couple pictures of you in the wild. Locke and Jax sent it to the Mikhailovs, who sent it to their client. We don’t know who that is yet—still working on it. But he gave his approval for the purchase. You’re good to grab. They have five days to bring you to the to-be-determined location.”

  “What if it’s random?” Cassidy asked.

  Parker shook his head. “Big oligarch, and they’re trying to establish footing in a new market? Nah, you’ll be paraded out. Expect pomp and circumstance. Hair, makeup, et cetera.”

  “Locke and Jax won’t make a deal unless they’re where Delta can clean house,” Beth added.

  “You good?” Nicola patted her hand.

  Not really. Yes, Cassidy knew it was coming, and she wanted to do this, but she’d have to be insane not to have a reaction. A Russian oligarch had purchased her through a sex-slave trader.

  Her mouth felt dry while anxiety and adrenaline were making her blood rush. This was something that she was familiar with. When she first touched down in war zones, when she first walked outside of green zones, whenever she had been testing the line of her safe areas for the story, she had this feeling. But there had always been a safety net. The people in this room were her safety net, as were Locke and Jax, but they were going to let her go eventually.

  If this job was bungled, there wouldn’t be a congressional investigation. She wouldn’t be a reporter who’d fallen from grace for airing military secrets. She would simply be a woman who had been trafficked and disappeared. A cold shiver ran over her body, prickling the hairs on her arm. They had no choice but to get this right, or everything that Locke was worried about would happen.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  It was the middle of the night, and Cassidy had fallen asleep as Locke drove her home from Titan. She must’ve had a long day. Hell, it’d been a crazy weekend, and as he pulled into her driveway, it hit him that the last time he pulled in, she was lying on the ground—in the dirt, half on her plants—and he’d about choked on his own fucking spit trying to get his truck in park and jump out.

  Quietly, he parked, and she woke, groaning as she stretched her muscles, as if the pain pills were wearing off.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “No big deal.” Her sleeping had given him time in the dark to think. “I haven’t given you enough credit for what you do, Cass.”

  She laughed quietly. “You’ve never given me any credit.”

  “Hey now.”

  “Joking, joking.”

  Locke laughed too, but the truth was, her words cut. “No. You’re right, and I’m sorry. I’ve been hard on… the situation, hard on you.” He cut the headlights, content to sit and talk in the dark. He needed to go and sleep. He was honestly just as wiped as she was, but he didn’t want to let her go yet. Somehow, Locke knew that the moment she stepped out of his truck, he’d be that much more exhausted, that much lonelier. He leaned against his door, taking her into view. “Back to where we started.”

  Cassidy gave a flat grin a
nd turned to stare at her front door like she dreaded heading inside.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said, turning back to face him. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

  He understood the sentiment. He’d had years of mental preparation to battle the stress she was about to endure. He’d long ago accepted the idea that he could give his life for a greater good, and while he had no doubt in her patriotism, she’d done little more than accept someone else’s offer when she stepped into a danger zone. She’d been in dangerous situations before, but this would be her first time acting as bait. “If you couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t let you go.”

  “I wouldn’t let myself go.”

  “You’d push yourself until you were able to. That much I’ve learned about you. You don’t stop until you get what you want.”

  “Ha. I don’t know if you said that like it’s a good thing.”

  “It is, Beauty. You’re passionate and determined. Hell of a combination.”

  Her hair fell from behind her ear as she tilted her chin. “Thanks, then.”

  He lifted his chin to say welcome, and damn it, Locke didn’t want to be without her that night. Selfishness was a driving force, but the idea of her in his arms all night long, where he knew she was safe, where he could memorize the feel of her body, every peak and valley, every soft curve—that seemed like a much better idea than dropping her off alone.

  Cassidy murmured, but it sounded like something sexy. Everything from her did.

  Fuck. He shifted, his cock hardening at the thought of sliding inside her tight pussy. There were rules of engagement. Surely, there were Titan rules. He didn’t know what they were. Titan, for all their protocol and security measures, let its team operate as a unit how they deemed fit. But spending the night in bed with her, now that she was essentially another ops member, didn’t seem high on the list of appropriate actions.

  He drew in a sobering breath. “Good night, Cassidy.”

  She unfastened her seatbelt and leaned over. Her lush lips pressed against his cheek. Everything about her was too much. The rush of her creamy, soft thighs wrapped around him came roaring back, reigniting the memory of her nectar-sweet taste as he kissed her pussy until she came. He thought of how her body quaked and convulsed, a wild woman on his tongue. Every sensitive, intimate muscle vibrated with his face buried between her legs. He wanted that convulsing moment on repeat.

  “Cass, wait.” Locke snaked an arm around her, holding her place, drinking in the surprised gasp as she tensed in his hold.

  He nuzzled his cheek against hers, letting the shadow of his whiskers rub on her jawline, then hungrily kissed her, sucking her bottom lip, the one he loved to bite, before slipping his tongue into her greedy mouth. Her velvet slashes plunged with his as she leaned over, hands knotting into his shirt.

  He moved down her chin, passion thick in his chest as he licked to her ear, owning every muted cry. Cassidy mewed, pulling herself across the center console.

  Roughly, he grabbed her waist, dragging her into the awkward space between the steering wheel and his chest. Her knees were by his sides and her forearms wrapped around his neck. Cassidy ground against his rock-hard shaft, making his jeans feel like hell.

  “Come inside,” she said.

  Her needy request tore through his concern that they were about to leave on a mission and needed sleep. There wasn’t a gentlemanly bone in his body about to pretend that it wasn’t a good idea. His hand found the handle, and the cool night air rushed over them as he pushed the door open with his knee.

  He helped her untangled her legs and step outside.

  “My purse, please.”

  Right. He grabbed it, unfolded himself, handing it to her, then grabbed his woman and half allowed her to lead the way, without letting go of her, to her house and up the stairs to the front door.

  “Wait, Locke.” The words and her tone were like screeching brakes and an ice bath, spun into one. “Before you come inside, there’s one thing we have to clear up.”

  It was like his mind ran into a brick wall. “What?” About thirty seconds earlier, he knew what was going on, and now… he didn’t.

  Cassidy ran her hands along her hips, almost nervously. “It’s important before we leave with Jax in the morning, but even more important before you come inside.”

  He tried to figure out what the hell she was talking about and came up blank. “Okay. What?”

  “Do you still think I slept with Mike Draven?”

  He pulled back, and unexpected shock ran through him at the thought of his CO. “What? What’s that have to do with it?”

  “If I’m going to sleep with you, and we’re going to go on this job… you thought maybe I’d slept with Mike and was the cause of what went wrong in Sadr City. I’m not trying to bring up a bad time for both of us, but yeah. Hell. It has to be brought up, because you and I have to be on the same page.”

  “Why?” Damn it. He never wanted to think about that and certainly not at that moment.

  “Because you thought—think—I don’t know, that I slept with Mike. I don’t want you thinking that—I don’t know—that I sleep around at work. Or that I’m a bad omen.”

  His jaw fell. “It never crossed my mind that your pussy was a bad omen.”

  She shook her head and stared at the sky. “Well, good.”

  “That’s just me being a red-blooded asshole and you being beautiful.”

  Her eyes dropped to his, and a tiny smile curled on her lips. “Okay. I wasn’t searching for a compliment or trying to kill the mood or whatever…”

  “For that matter…” Damn it, he hated thinking about Iraq. “I know you weren’t sleeping with Draven.”

  “Good.” She nodded as if all had been said, and she opened her purse.

  “Look… shit. I don’t know.” Locke shifted his weight. “Truth is—not that it matters—I don’t think he dug chicks.” It wasn’t his business to talk about, nor was it his to comment on post-mortem. Draven hadn’t taken a stance one way or the other about his orientation, so Locke was in the wrong to do so now. But in a way, he was trying to offer an apology to Cassidy.

  “I know,” she said.

  His eyes bugged. “Wait, what? You know? You know what?”

  Cassidy’s blue-green eyes held his. “I know.”

  “I’m lost. You know…” Locke himself barely knew. He gestured blankly. “You can’t know.”

  “I do,” she whispered. “I knew his partner too.”

  “You do?” Locke’s mind reeled at the consequences of what she’d just said. “Did?”

  He couldn’t think. Forget the fact that someone didn’t get death benefits or the respect deserved of the partner of a fallen soldier, but Cassidy could have easily taken the heat off herself if she’d said that, invalidating any number of accusations that she’d slept her way to information.

  And if she was close enough to him to be trusted with that kind of secret, what else did Draven tell her? “He was your source?”

  Cassidy didn’t speak. She just stood there, holding the key to her front door.

  Then again, Cassidy never spoke when questioned. With all the names of men—dead and still serving—who had been thrown at her under deposition and threat of imprisonment, the woman hadn’t divulged her source. Never once had Locke thought that Mike Draven would do that… but it had been him. “Why?”

  “I didn’t say it was him.”

  Locke dropped his voice lower. “Why?”

  Her blue-green eyes turned to fire. “Because sometimes it is more important for Americans to know the truth about what is happening than what the politicians deem appropriate for their delicate sensibilities to know.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Holy fuck.

  Michael Draven had been her source. Who some people, like him, called the leak. Everything made sense now, even if it had taken Locke this long to put all the puzzle pieces together. Hell, what Cassidy just said about truth and delicate sensibilities so
unded like something Draven would believe. That cocky, badass motherfucker. Tougher than screaming Apaches. Harder to break than titanium. Draven was the toughest asshole who Locke would ever respect in the Iraq war, and he had to say the truth out loud. “Your reports didn’t cause the insurgent attacks.”

  “I know,” she whispered, biting her lip and staring hard, as though maybe trying to read if he really believed what he was saying.

  “They were coming at us from all directions. There weren’t enough boots on the ground, and we were sending more home every day.”

  “I know.”

  They all knew that. How didn’t he connect the dots? Jesus shit, he’d been so angry and so hellbent on finding someone to blame for the attack that he hadn’t looked at the obvious. “I’m sorry. For everything that I’ve said. And that I’ve thought.”

  She lifted a shoulder, downplaying what she’d done, which was heroic as fuck. Dissent could be a rabid form of patriotism, and damn if he wasn’t staring at a hero. “You’re brave, Beauty.”

  Cassidy blushed, and right then and there, he fell hard. “Cassidy, keep acting like it’s nothing, and you’re not going to be able to get rid of me.”

  Her face melted into a genuine grin, and whatever barbed wire had encircled his heart in Sadr City unwound itself and disappeared. Cassidy inched toward him until he grabbed her into a hug.

  “You’re one of those guys who always knows the right thing to say, aren’t you?” Her lava-hot lips latched onto his neck, and his mind was lost to oblivion.

  “Remember what you just said, and hold onto it whenever you want to kill me.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “We good?” he asked, nudging his face against hers until he had her mouth.

  “We’re good.” Cassidy ran her hands along his biceps.

  “Let’s go inside. I only have a few hours until I have to share you with the world again.”

  She made quick work of the door as his fingers played with her shirt, teasing along the valley of her spine. Locke retraced their path from earlier until he took her hand, leading into her bedroom.