by Loye, Trish
She lifted the device and shoved it in her bag as Tom slipped to the floor, unconscious. Unfortunately, she couldn’t use the shocker again until she’d recharged it.
“What the fuck?” Freckles said. He reached under his jacket, but Charlie was ready. She struck hard with a palm to his throat. He stumbled back with a choking sound.
Thanks, Dante, for those self-defense lessons.
She barreled at the door, both palms pushing against the bar to open it. A vicious yank on her ponytail pulled her head back and brought tears to her eyes.
“Bitch!” Freckles jerked her hard toward him. She didn’t fight it, but turned and dove at him. They landed in a heap on top of Tom, who groaned.
Shit. She’d counted on him staying out longer. She grabbed Freckles by the hair and thunked his head onto the floor. He grunted. He still hadn’t released her hair. Another hard yank and she flew sideways off him and into the concrete wall, scraping her face.
She lay stunned for a second, but that was all Freckles needed. He stood and kicked her brutally in the stomach. Pain obliterated her thoughts as she curled in on herself, gasping for the air she’d lost.
Get up, Charlie.
She rolled away and into a crouch. Someone stood at the top of the flight of steps.
She had no more time to process. Freckles kicked at her head. She twisted and grabbed his foot, standing and lifting it though her ribs protested. Freckles cursed and fell back.
The man on the stairs—it was a man, she saw now-launched himself onto Freckles. They went down in a heap and the man pummeled Freckles with massive fists.
Jack.
Tom chose that moment to struggle to his knees, his gaze on Jack’s back. He reached under his jacket. Charlie launched herself at Tom, knocking him toward the stairs leading down. They rolled and she yelped as her head banged on the floor. Tom stood straddled over her, his gun in his hand. He looked toward Jack again.
Big mistake to take his eyes off her.
She kicked him hard between the legs. He cursed as he hunched over. Jack broke away from Freckles and hit Tom’s gun from his grasp.
Tom half fell, half leapt down the stairs. Freckles moved behind Jack.
“Watch out!” Charlie shouted.
Jack whirled, but Freckles was already sprinting up the stairs away from them. He had his weapon in hand.
Charlie lifted herself up on her elbow and struggled to a sitting position. “We should go after them.”
“Easy there, Sherlock,” Jack said, kneeling beside her. “They separated, and you’re in no condition to give chase. Right now, you’re more important. Anything broken?” His fingers went beneath her chin and lifted it. His gaze searched hers.
Her head throbbed, her back ached where she’d landed on it, her face felt like it was on fire from scraping the wall, and her heart thudded so fast she thought it was going to explode. “I’m fine.”
He rolled his eyes. “Sure you are.” He stood and extended his hand to her. She grimaced, but put her hand in his and let him help her to her feet. He didn’t release her hand for a moment, watching her face. “You good?”
She nodded. “Thanks for the assist.”
“No worries.” He bent and picked up Tom’s gun, then took out the magazine and cleared it before handing it to her, nodding to her bag. She slid it in and opened the door to the second-floor hallway. Time to find cell reception.
She called Dante.
“Gears. What’s up, Q?”
“You don’t have cameras in the stairwell, do you?”
“What happened?” Dante demanded.
“We had a problem.”
“I’m sending Valkyrie to you now.”
“I’m fine,” she said. She gave him the descriptions of Tom and Freckles. “Do a camera sweep and send Valkyrie after them. I’ll debrief later.”
“Wilco,” he said. “Call if you need me. Gears out.”
She swiped the phone off just as the elevator doors opened. Piano music played quietly in the background. She raised her hand to punch a floor number and stopped. What floor should she go to? Her hand shook as she held it over the numbers. She noticed Jack watching and she pulled it back to her side.
He reached over and pressed the ground floor.
“You probably need to find Dr. Douchebag,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Once he left, she’d go back to her hotel room just for a moment. She just needed a second to process.
“No,” he said.
“No?” she prompted.
The doors opened. The ground floor was a bit of a crush of conference goers milling around and other hotel guests departing for the day.
“Come with me,” he said.
Uncharacteristically, she didn’t think, just followed his broad back through the people. He entered the pub where people still ate breakfast and walked up to the bar. There, a bartender filled glasses with orange juice.
Jack looked her over. “White wine?”
“Now?” she said, aghast. “It’s only…what the hell time is it, anyway? It’s only 10 a.m. Which is five in the morning my time.”
Jack signaled the bartender and nodded at her. “A white wine and a bag of ice. The lady had a fall.”
The bartender glanced at her and she wondered what he saw, since he turned right around and ducked down to a small fridge with a glass door.
What the hell. She could use a drink. “Make it a gin martini,” she said. “Dirty. Really dirty.”
Jack tilted his head, eyebrows raised.
She shrugged. “If I’m going to have a drink, then I want a real drink.”
He nodded. “Anything for you.” His words were casual and soft, but they caressed a spot inside her and she stilled for a moment.
The bartender brought a bag of ice wrapped in a towel, followed by the martini. She ignored the ice though her face throbbed, and reached for the drink. Her hand still trembled slightly when she took it. She held the toothpick with the three olives aside and sipped the salty alcohol, letting the fire of it burn her throat. She took another healthy swallow before setting it down. Her shoulders loosened.
“Your first fight?” Jack asked quietly, taking the ice and gently holding it to the side of her face.
She hissed at the cold connecting with her abused skin. “Of course not.” She took the ice from him. It seemed too intimate a gesture for him to be tending to her bruises. She picked up the martini and gulped. She coughed. “I’ve been in lots of fights.”
“Really?” He leaned an elbow on the bar. “And how many of these fights were outside of a gym.”
Okay, he’d caught her there. She took another sip. “What’s your point?”
“Your first real fight is a huge adrenaline rush. These were men who were trying to hurt you, if not kill you.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because really? You need lessons on how to give therapy.”
His lips twitched. Ah… Almost a smile.
“I’m saying that your body has just dumped a huge amount of adrenaline in your system. It’s why your hands are trembling.”
She set down her drink and tucked her hands in her lap. “I’m fine.”
His gaze caught hers as if to enforce his next words. “And it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
This close, she saw the gold flecks in the hazel of his eyes. Green shifting to brown at the edges, with gold glittering throughout. Forest eyes. They dug into her, seeking her secrets.
Predator eyes.
She blinked. Time to get a grip and shift back into work mode. She nodded at the glass in front of her. “You’re not having anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m on duty.”
So was she. She reached for the martini again anyway. The fiery burn lessened with each sip.
He took her drink from her. “I think that’s enough. I need you relaxed but clear headed.”
She gritted her teeth. She hated anyone telling her what to do. “I don’t need you to make decisio
ns for me.”
He slid the martini glass back to her. “Suit yourself.”
Why did this man irritate her one minute and make her think dirty thoughts the next? She wanted to say something sarcastic, but she wasn’t petty. Instead, she took another small sip.
Not out of spite, she told herself, but more because she just wanted another taste. Then she pushed the glass away. “But you’re right. A full martini isn’t the best idea.”
His lips twisted as if he tried to hide a smile.
She decided it was prudent to ignore it. She took a deep breath and could feel the alcohol loosening the tension in her shoulders and back. Maybe the drink had been a good idea.
She pulled out her cell and called Dante. “Did Valkyrie get them?”
“Negative.”
“Dammit.”
“Valkyrie wants you back at your room.”
“I’m on my way.” She put the ice pack on the bar, hopped off the stool, and beckoned to Jack. “Come on, we’ve got a pow wow in my room.”
“We?”
“It looks like you’re involved now.”
He shook his head. “You obviously need a bodyguard.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
“But it’s not me,” he added.
“Why not?”
“Because I have a job already.”
“Protecting Dr. Douchebag?”
Jack’s lips quirked a little, but he nodded.
“At least come and give your version of events. I’d like to hear your thoughts on this.”
His lips compressed as he regarded her almost suspiciously, like she was some kind of temptress telling him he wouldn’t go to hell with this one small step on the road downward.
Realistically, portraying herself as a temptress was probably giving herself a wee bit too much credit. She was more of a meter maid directing traffic downwards. This way to hell.
There was a cheery thought.
“Fine. I’ll come and give my thoughts,” he said.
She nodded and strode toward the elevators before he could see her smile. Jack would be working for them before he knew it. She didn’t delve too deeply into why that made her happy.
* * *
He followed the little temptress to the elevator, berating himself for listening to his little brain and not his big one. She looked like some sexy combination of a ninja and a librarian. How could he resist that?
He shook his head at himself. Charlie had proven she was more than capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t need him. Hell, she’d just fought against two armed assailants in the stairwell.
He studied her critically in the elevator. He didn’t think her eye would swell and the scrape on her cheekbone still needed to be tended, but she looked more relaxed after the drink. She’d be sore from her encounter, but he had no doubt she would have survived it, even if he hadn’t come along.
So why was he following her to her room like a good little boy?
Images of her beckoning him into her room, her hair down around her shoulders, her dark eyes heated with desire, filled his mind. His gaze slipped down her figure.
“Jack?”
He snapped his eyes back to her face. She quirked an eyebrow at him. And he might have been embarrassed to be caught looking, but he saw a flash of something in her eyes. Something that intrigued him. His gaze narrowed. Was her skin a little flushed? Was she responding to him?
The elevator dinged and the doors opened on her floor. She sped out and he watched her go for a moment.
“Are you coming?”
He sighed. He wished.
But no, he’d already decided she was off limits. He would tell his side of the story and then leave. He didn’t know what op these people had going on, but he had to track down Spider.
She opened her room. Charlie’s so-called lab assistant waited for them. The tall woman had short blond hair and striking blue eyes. She moved like a martial artist, someone who’d honed her body into a weapon.
“Valkyrie, this is Jack. Jack, this is—”
“The name is Cat.” She held out her hand and Jack shook it.
Her gaze assessed him as he did the same. “So you showed up in time to save the day?” Her voice was completely even, but suspicion still lay under the words.
Charlie sucked in a breath. “Cat, he had noth—”
Jack shook his head at her. He didn’t need defending. “She had it under control when I got there.”
Cat eyed both of them, and Jack got the feeling that not much got past this woman.
“She needs a wire that works,” he said. “And she needs a partner to watch her back.”
“I’m her partner,” Cat said.
“Well, you weren’t doing a great job,” Jack said. “Where were you?”
Cat growled and stepped toward him.
Charlie moved between them and put her hands on her hips. “I thought you said I had it under control?”
He looked down at her. “I don’t know what you’ve got going here, but you shouldn’t be in the field on your own. Everyone needs a partner.”
“Even you?” she asked quietly.
The question stopped him like a brick wall. He shifted gears and focused again on Cat. “The two men were a coordinated strike. They were there to kidnap, not kill.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because they chased me, rather than shooting me,” Charlie said.
The image of the two men chasing her down the stairwell sent Jack’s blood thundering and his hands clenched as rage filled him.
“Do you know who they are?” he growled.
Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him. He took a breath, ignored her, and fought for control.
Cat shook her head. “Gears is running the pictures we took from the hotel’s security cameras. So far no matches.”
Not good, but time for him to retreat before he got any further involved. He moved to the door. “Make sure you have eyes on her at all times. She’s their target.”
“Where are you going?” Cat asked.
“I have a douchebag to protect.” Charlie smiled at his words, and damn if it didn’t give him a little thrill to see it. He checked his answering smile. He needed to get away from her before he got sucked into wanting to make her smile more.
“We’re re-calling Dr. Levington from the conference. Perhaps by a family emergency.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. How could he track down Spider for vengeance if his cover disappeared? “Why?”
“Because we want you working for us as Charlie’s bodyguard.”
He thought about it for a moment. While it would put him closer to Charlie, which had its own separate, darker appeal, it wouldn’t help him find Spider. Especially if he was caught up in whatever mission they had. “Will you read me in on this op?”
“You don’t need the information to act as a bodyguard,” Cat said.
“Then no.” He reached for the door. He’d find a way to stay at the hotel to search for Spider. He didn’t need this crew.
“Cat,” Charlie said. “He’ll be more useful if he wants to help us, rather than if we coerce him.”
“Is it money?” Cat said. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
That turned up the heat on his simmering temper. Yes, he needed money. If they’d done their background check, which he was sure they had, then they’d know he was only two steps away from the poorhouse.
But he had his standards. He wouldn’t be bribed into helping, and he wouldn’t help if they didn’t trust him enough to give him all the facts. Besides, he had his own agenda.
“I told you, I won’t help you without knowing the whole truth.”
Cat shook her head. “Need to know.”
“Then you don’t need me.”
“Charlie needs you.”
That made him stop. She had almost been overwhelmed by those two men today. What if there had been three? She would have been taken. And he wouldn’t have been a
ble to find or help her. His gut clenched. Spider had robbed him of too much. He couldn’t give it all up just to babysit a beautiful woman. Her teammates would guard her.
“She has you,” he said gruffly.
Charlie stepped toward him. “Why not?” she asked. “You’re perfect for this position. You’ve already got the cover of bodyguard down. You could shadow me and no one would think anything of it. You don’t need to know anything else to help protect me. Don’t you want to do something real again?”
Something real? Did she know what had happened on his last “real” job? When he didn’t have all the information? Rage swelled in him faster than he knew what to do with. He struggled to clamp down on it. He kept his voice level when he answered.
By her wide eyes, he hadn’t fully succeeded in hiding it. “I can’t protect you or anyone without all the information. So take your real job and fuck right off.”
He slammed out of the room. Time for a drink, since he was no longer on duty.
9
Charlie gave up on Jack helping after he stormed out of the room. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, either personally or professionally. She put another pin in her hair as she looked in the mirror, trying not to remember the snarl on his face as he’d told them to fuck off.
Her hair was in a bun on the top of her head. She couldn’t decide if it made her look like a child or an old lady. But she sure as hell wasn’t having anyone catch her by her hair again. Today she’d paired a gray sweater with the black cargo pants and boots. Obviously, she no longer cared what she looked like.
She was teaching her seminar this afternoon, and her appearance didn’t matter as long as she could speak well. Her stomach rolled and she wiped her hands on her pants. Her watch said she had twenty minutes.
She tapped her mic. “Gears, this is Q.”
“Go ahead, Q.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“I’ll let Valkyrie know. Have fun.”
Fun? She wanted to puke at the thought of standing in front of other scientists and trying to explain herself. What if they didn’t understand her? What if she couldn’t make them understand? Would they kick her out of the conference? Maybe she should just leave now.