Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Shit. God damn it.” Dylan punched the thin, cheap wall, leaving a deep divot.

  Rogelio squeezed his eyes shut.

  Maybe Cruz would let him strangle the idiot.

  “We‘ll just have to grab her another way,” Rogelio said. Like, maybe when she went to the police about someone breaking into her room.

  Dylan kicked a bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor and kicking them around.

  “We’re leaving, now.” Rogelio grabbed Dylan by the arm and hauled him out of the door, into the hall. Their blind window for snatching and grabbing was almost up.

  “What the hell?” Dylan jerked out of his hold.

  “I don’t have time to sit around here and fix your fuck-up. Go back to your hotel and wait for Cruz to tell you what to do.”

  “Fuck you, man.”

  “No thanks, I don’t like little boys.” Rogelio flipped Dylan the bird as he strode toward the service elevators.

  At least his other guys had eyes on the two party girls. They’d be easy to steer away where no one was watching. At least one job was easy tonight.

  6.

  Mason’s stomach rolled. The boat pitched, jostling him in his bunk.

  He was going to be sick.

  “Mason? Mason, wake up.”

  He pried one eye open, but it wouldn’t focus. Yellow light created a halo around the most beautiful face he’d ever seen.

  Hannah?

  But what was she doing...?

  Where was he?

  “What?” He rolled to his back and squinted, taking in what he could see of his surroundings.

  A couple of F-22s had to be dive bombing his skull with the way it was pounding.

  “You’re awake. Finally.” Hannah threw up her hands and paced away from him.

  His gaze snapped to the hemline of her...nightgown wasn’t a good word. It looked soft, comfortable, sexy and hinted at what was underneath. It barely covered her. A wrong move, a fast turn and he’d get a peep show.

  A show he couldn’t afford.

  Because he was not supposed to touch Hannah.

  “What’s going on?” And where the hell was he? Mexico? Already?

  “My room—someone has been in my room.” She whirled to face him and gestured at the adjoining doors they’d propped open yesterday.

  “When?” The fear in her voice was enough to snap him at least partially out of the fog. He could remember the plane...talking to Hannah and maybe glimpses of the hotel? But after that it was lost in a thick fog. What happened last night? Had he drunk himself stupid? Because that was a fucking dumb thing to do.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and his stomach clenched, but everything stayed down. Cool air grazed his balls. He glanced down—at his dick. He’d slept naked? Man, he must really have been fucked up.

  “Turn around Hannah.” He clutched the sheets over his lap.

  “What?” Her face scrunched up.

  “I’m naked.” Damn inconvenient time, too. This was exactly why he should at least have boxers on, prepared to protect her at any time. Granted, a lot of people would run from a naked dude trying to attack them, but on the flip side, he’d rather Hannah not get an eyeful of morning wood.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. She turned to face the wall. “What’s wrong?”

  “What did we do last night? Did I drink something? Did we take something?” There was no good reason for him to not recall the previous night in complete clarity. And he wouldn’t have poured his sorrows down a bottle because that would have left Hannah vulnerable.

  “What—what do you mean?” Hannah’s voice rose in pitch.

  Damn it, he didn’t want to scare her.

  Mason crossed to the foot of the bed and grabbed a pair of board shorts off the top, then slipped them on.

  “I mean, what happened?” He knotted the drawstring and stalked into the next room.

  “We, uh...”

  The comforter and sheets were stripped off her bed. The contents of a bag dumped on the floor. It could be a normal room—if it weren’t Hannah’s.

  Everything has a place.

  She used to harp on him when he’d put weights in the wrong spot. Things had to be arranged just so. She did not leave her things lying around. And she wouldn’t dump her stuff on the floor.

  “Did someone give us something to drink? Did we go anywhere?”

  “Mason, you’re scaring me.”

  He turned to face her, keeping his eyes on her face.

  The truth was a scary thing, but he couldn’t let that hold him back.

  “I can’t remember anything past checking into the hotel.” He winced and massaged his temples. “Can you remember anything from last night? And where were you when this happened?” And why the hell was she running around a hotel in a nightgown?

  Hannah’s eyes grew large, her lips parted, and she stared at him.

  “I don’t want to scare you, Hannah, but I think someone drugged us. Me, at least. I need for you to remember, if you can.” Chances were some time would knock his memory loose, but right now it was all a blur. There’d been music and sand...he’d sweated a lot...but everything else was shadowy blurs, nothing tangible.

  “Y-you told me to sleep in here.” She stood on his side of the adjoining doors. In his room.

  “I told you to sleep in there?” With him?

  Hannah nodded.

  And she’d listened to him?

  He shook his head. No, in his right mind, he’d never have let that happen, because there was no going back from something like that.

  “Hannah, I need you to think. What can you remember? Anything?” He crossed to her and took one hand. Christ, the pounding in his skull was bad, but this was more important.

  “We—we argued.”

  “When?”

  “When we got here, and...” She licked her lips and glanced away. What the fuck had he done? Man, he had to have been an asshole to her. Hannah wasn’t exactly the kind of woman who lacked words. “And we went to the beach party. We were there all night.”

  “Together? Or did we get separated for a while?” He needed a timeline, a basis for when things went wrong.

  “You really don’t remember?” Her eyes were so wide, so beautiful, if it weren’t for the fear.

  Mason shook his head.

  Hannah’s brows rose and she covered her mouth with her free hand.

  “I’m sorry.” He squeezed the hand he still held.

  “The drink. The one the bartender gave me. It tasted different. We both said it did, but I just had a sip—you drank the whole thing.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “The bartender, Luis. He’d been making our drinks all night.”

  “How much did I drink?”

  “No—I mean our drinks. You...I think you had a beer, maybe two?”

  Mason wouldn’t have finished either beer. He’d have drank half, tossed it and ordered another. Drinking to keep appearances going only. His job, not that it was on the books or anything, was to keep Hannah safe.

  “Whose drinks?” He squeezed her hand. He wasn’t a mixed drink kind of guy, so she had to be talking about someone else.

  “Me and these two girls I met. Mason, you’re really scaring me.”

  He couldn’t tell her it was going to be okay, that so long as he was there things would be all right. He wouldn’t lie to her.

  “We need to get out of here.” He let go of her hand and surveyed their things. He hadn’t unpacked, so he could put on some shoes, his shirt, and be good to go in a few minutes. It would take longer to pack up Hannah’s stuff.

  “Why?”

  “Hannah, someone tried to drug you last night and got me instead. It was dumb luck you didn’t drink it and I did. Then someone comes in here and throws your stuff around?” He had a bad feeling about this. Real bad. “It had to be intentional. If the bartender was in on it...” The resort wasn’t safe. “We need to leave. Now. Pack up your stuff. I want us out of here in
ten minutes.”

  “What? No. What about Christine and Natalie?”

  “Who?”

  “The girls I met last night. Luis gave all of us drinks at the same time. If they put that in mine—what was in theirs?”

  “This is going to sound cruel—but it’s not my problem. My goal is keeping you safe.” He could get Hannah somewhere secure, then double back to check on the other two.

  “What? No.” She balled her hands into fists. “I am not going anywhere until I know they’re safe. You’re a dick.”

  “Hannah, I’ll be a lot worse if it means keeping you safe.”

  “I’m not going anywhere unless I know they’re okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Mason was well aware of Hannah’s stubborn streak. She got it from her old man, and Stevens complained of Hannah’s mulishness enough for Mason to know he could fight her—or check on the damn girls. They’d lose time fighting, not to mention Hannah would resent his priorities. Checking on two girls was a low price to pay for her cooperation in getting the fuck out of here.

  “Fine. Get dressed. Get packed.”

  “Hauling our crap with us across the resort is going to look suspicious.” Hannah turned and bent, snagging something off the floor.

  “What’s that?”

  “My bathing suit.” She held up a peach, almost skin-tone bikini top.

  What the hell was that doing in here?

  His face must have said as much.

  Hannah rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “You were sloppy drunk. I’d just changed and was going to hang it up outside when you were stumbling around. I helped you into bed, but you were arguing with me. The only way to keep you in bed was to stay in here. Besides, my door had shut, and you weren’t sober enough to remember where my spare key was.”

  Man, he must have been trashed. Whatever the bartender had slipped him would have done a number on Hannah. It was a wonder he’d even made it to the room.

  Hannah stomped into her room and began snatching things off the floor.

  Mason watched for a moment, just enough to assure himself she was okay—and occupied. He hauled his bag onto the bed and extracted several plastic pieces from various compartments in the bag. Separated like they were, they were nothing. Assembled and in his hands, it was a perfectly 3D-printed Glock. The plastic fire arm would do in a pinch, like now. He just prayed they didn’t need it.

  He gathered up the last of his stuff and secured the gun in his waistband.

  So much for a relaxing beach getaway. Less than twenty-four hours here, and he couldn’t recall half of it.

  He stuck his head into Hannah’s room. The place looked worse than when he’d last looked.

  “What the hell, Hannah?”

  “I can’t find anything. Nothing is where it’s supposed to be.” She’d changed into jean shorts and a lose tank top layered over a tighter one. The colors were far too bright. Eye-catching.

  “You need to change your shirts. Something muted.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because, neon pink and yellow scream, look at me.”

  “Fine. I’ll change.” She snagged something out of a pile of clothes and stalked into the bathroom.

  What was up with her?

  He couldn’t worry about her feelings right now.

  Mason grabbed her smaller suitcase and started tossing clothing into it. The faster they got out, the better this would go.

  “What are you doing? Those don’t go in there.” Hannah snatched the bag from him and dumped everything back out.

  “We need to go.”

  “Mason, we can’t carry everything with us. This is silly.”

  “Hannah, you aren’t getting how serious this is. You want to check on your friends? See if they’re okay? Then let’s pack this stuff up and go.”

  “Fine.”

  She took the clothes and began rapidly folding and rolling them into tiny bundles. She’d changed into longer, khaki shorts and a lose, white shirt paired with slip-on athletic shoes and her hair up in a tight knot. Tourist, but not an attention-grabbing one. Hopefully her runway model height and looks didn’t attract any more of the wrong kind of attention.

  “Is this everything?” He hefted one of her two bags off the bed.

  “I think so?”

  “Let’s go. You know where their room is?”

  “Yeah, I was supposed to swing by around lunch today...”

  “Let me go first.” He slid past her and opened the door, peering out into the hall.

  A couple of guests strolled away from them, toward the elevators, but the coast was otherwise clear.

  “Come on,” he said over his shoulder.

  He held the door for her, closing it quietly, before falling into step with Hannah.

  “What floor are they on?”

  “Next floor down, but they’re on the other side of the resort.”

  They bypassed the closest elevator, and instead crossed the hotel on their floor, choosing to descend closer to the girl’s rooms. Hannah didn’t say a single word the whole way.

  Something was up with her. It was the pitch of her voice, just a little too high, the way she’d huffed around the room. This wasn’t like Hannah. She wasn’t a dumb client, she knew how dangerous things could be. So what had happened that he couldn’t remember? Had the fight been that bad? Did he need to apologize for something he’d said or done?

  “It should be down this hall,” Hannah muttered.

  They turned left, down a short expanse of corridor that ended in another right turn. A cleaning cart sat up next to the wall, one door propped open.

  Hannah’s step slowed as they neared the room, her eyes growing larger.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her past the room, casually glancing in. Two housekeepers had several big, black trash bags sitting near the doors.

  If one resort employee was in on it, more could be, too.

  “Mason.” Hannah squeezed his hand.

  “I know.”

  Housekeeping was clearing out the other two girl’s belongings.

  He’d bet money that Natalie and Christine were gone. And not headed home.

  Mason couldn’t protect Hannah and find two missing girls. He had to take care of Hannah first, then he could figure out his options for a search and rescue.

  “What are we going to do?” Hannah’s voice broke and she squeezed his hand.

  “We’re getting out of here.”

  They circled the closest elevators, bypassing those for another bank they’d passed from above. There were cameras all over the resort. If someone wanted to find them, they’d be found. The key would be to stick to the high traffic areas.

  No one could snatch and grab them in a busy tourist area without causing an uproar.

  Waiting for a lift to arrive was the worst.

  “Mason, where are we going?”

  “We‘ll get a cab, head for the airport.”

  “What? But—Christine? Natalie?”

  “You get on a plane home. I will take care of finding them.”

  The elevator dinged. He waited just long enough to see it was empty before propelling Hannah into the car.

  “I am not leaving without you.” She whirled to face him, skin pale, eyes open wide.

  “I can’t protect you and find your friends.”

  “You don’t even know what they look like.”

  “I’ll get a picture. Someone must have seen you guys last night.”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  “Hannah, you were the target last night. Not me. We’re lucky I got drugged and you slept in my room.” Those words tasted bitter.

  Damn, he’d spent the night with her so close...and he couldn’t remember a thing. Talk about a shit deal. And when had he taken his clothes off? She was a fucking saint for putting up with him. Christ, what else had he done or said? He wasn’t sure he wanted a replay of that.

  “You can’t do it all by yourself.”
/>
  “That’s what I’m paid to do, Hannah.”

  “I’m not leaving you. You can’t put me on a plane.”

  “Fighting with you isn’t going to solve any of our problems.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  “That makes two jobs. Protect you,” he held up a finger, “and find the girls.” He held up a second finger.

  “One job. We find them together. I don’t need to be protected.” Hannah flipped him the bird.

  That was the Hannah he knew. Stubborn and ready to argue.

  The elevator doors slid open. He nudged her behind him and strode out of the main bank of elevators into the wide marble entrance of the resort hotel. People milled around. A fountain gurgled water. Sunshine poured in from the skylights above the entrance and the open doors. It was a beautiful death trap.

  “Come on.” He strode toward the entrance.

  They could hire a cab or wait for a shuttle. Either option had pros and cons, weighing them was an exercise in half a dozen of one, six of the other.

  The hair on the back of his neck rose.

  Mason glanced behind him.

  Hannah had stopped a dozen paces back, her bags on the ground, arms crossed over her chest.

  Fucking stubborn girl.

  He stalked back to her and got right up in her face, a plastic grin on his face.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “I’m not leaving,” she said slowly.

  “You want to put your life in danger for two girls you just met?”

  “They could be hurt or in danger or...”

  “And I’ll do what I can to find them, but not with you here.”

  “Again, you can’t remember what they look like, so how do you think you’ll be able to find two girls you can’t even recognize.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  The hotel had video footage. It shouldn’t be terribly difficult to isolate a few images to get a visual.

  “You can take me to the airport, but you can’t put me on a plane. I’ll get off and come right back here. You know me, Mason.”

  He did, damn it.

  And they could argue all day about it.

  “You promise to do what I say, when I say, and not backtalk?” He highly doubted she could follow up with a promise like that.