Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2)

by Sidney Bristol

  “Have you tried her?” Zain said first thing.

  “Yeah, it’s just ringing.”

  “She’s stopped. I’m going to try to get you to her...”

  “Zain, she can’t stay here. This is too dangerous.” Mason had circled the whole situation while he got on the road. It just wasn’t safe enough to keep her here. She had to go home.

  “My thoughts exactly. I have the listing for tomorrow’s flights pulled up if you think you can bundle her onto a plane.”

  “I’ll make it happen.”

  “I’ll pretend I don’t know that.”

  “Thank you.”

  The line beeped.

  “Hold on.” Mason pulled the phone away from his face and cursed. He didn’t bother telling Zain anything, just answered the line, holding his breath. If anyone but Hannah answered... “Hello?”

  “Mason?”

  “Hannah?” Relief twined with worry, squeezing his throat.

  “Mason, I’m scared.” Her voice broke, he could hear the tears.

  “Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m...I’m in the bathroom of a café or something. I just, I couldn’t keep running. I’m shaking. They were there, Mason. They were right behind me, I swear.”

  “Honey, take a deep breath, okay? Can you sit down anywhere?”

  “I’m in one of the stalls.”

  “Put your head between your knees and just breathe. I’ve got Zain on the phone, he’s tracking you. I need him to guide me to where you are.”

  “I don’t want to be alone, please don’t go.”

  Mason pulled the car over. It wouldn’t do them any good if he got lost, or worse, crashed.

  “I’m not going anywhere. How about this, you hang up and Zain will call you back, the three of us can talk, okay?”

  “I’m scared, Mason. I’m sorry, I’m scared.”

  “I know, honey. Just hang up and the phone will ring in less than a minute, okay? If it doesn’t, call me back.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  “Please, hurry.”

  Though it killed a little of him, he hung up with Hannah and flipped back to Zain.

  “You still there?” he asked.

  “Was that Hannah?”

  “Yeah, can you three-way with her? She’s okay, scared out of her mind, but she got somewhere and holed up, just like you told her.”

  “Patching her in now,” Zain said.

  The line barely rang once before Hannah said, “Hello? Zain? Mason?”

  “We’re here, Hannah,” Zain said.

  “Mason, where are you?” she asked.

  “He is about four miles from you,” Zain replied. “Mason, head due north for a mile and a quarter, then turn right.”

  “Copy that.” Mason stomped on the gas, cutting off another car. “Hannah, what happened? Are you still okay?”

  “Yeah, I think I’m fine. Just shaking. It’s probably the adrenaline dump.”

  “Sounds about right. What happened back there?”

  Her voice shook as she recounted from the moment she saw the three men to locking herself in the café restroom. Mason cursed every car, light, and pedestrian that slowed his trek to her location. Finally, he was on the same stretch of street. It was time to lose the car and hide.

  “I’m parking now,” he said. “I see the café.”

  “I’m going to hang up and work on tracking down a place for you to stay,” Zain said.

  “Okay.” Hannah blew out a breath. Her voice was stronger, less shaking. She was pulling herself together, but he could only imagine how difficult this must be for her.

  The call ended. Mason shoved the phone into his pocket, killed the engine, and left the car locked. Hopefully the owner found it or someone reported it. Hannah had to be his first priority.

  He got out, scanning the street, looking for three big guys with a vendetta, but it was quiet. A few people strolled by, but otherwise it was what probably passed as a normal evening.

  Mason did his best to not run to the café. He entered through one of the open archways and waved at the man behind the bar, before heading straight to the bathrooms. He tapped on the women’s door, listening for sound within. When he didn’t hear anyone, he pushed it open.

  “Hannah?”

  “Mason?”

  “You coming out?”

  One foot and then the other descended into view. Had she been sitting with her feet pulled up? Not bad.

  She unlocked the door and stepped out. Tear tracks cut lines down her cheeks. Her hair stuck out at odd angles from under his cap. But she was alive.

  Hannah rushed across the space and into his arms, squeezing him tight.

  “Hey, I’m here. You’re okay.” He hugged her to him, thanking the stars she was okay.

  Mason kissed her forehead, her cheek. Hannah turned, catching his mouth with hers. He cupped her face with one hand, wishing he had more time. He lifted his head, breaking the kiss, and swiped a thumb across her jaw.

  “Come on. Let’s get a to-go order so we look less suspicious, then hit the road.”

  “What can you possibly tell them that won’t make this more suspicious?”

  Oh, he could think of a few things.

  “Easy, I’ll tell him we’re on our honeymoon, you’re pregnant, and the baby doesn’t like the hotel food.” He grinned.

  She sputtered, laughing, and slapped his chest.

  Shit—had they used a condom last night?

  Hannah stumbled into the dark room, ready to collapse right there on the entry carpet. Mason flipped the lights on behind her. She blinked at the homey little apartment.

  Turned out, Mason’s plan of painting their honeymoon hotel in a less than stellar light was really a magic trick. The bartender knew a guy whose cousin was out of town and would rent them the room for the night on the cheap. On the plus side, they got their meal to go.

  “Sit.” Mason nudged her toward the dining table tucked in beside the open kitchen.

  She collapsed into a chair and slumped forward on the table, barely propped up by her elbows.

  “How’d it go with you?” She’d been so mired in what had happened to her, she hadn’t paused to consider if Mason had any news.

  “I got a contact. I forwarded it to Zain and he’s digging into that while we eat.” He set the to-go boxes of food on the table and the Most Absolutely Necessary bag on the floor.

  “I’m sorry about the rest of our stuff. I got what I thought I could carry.” She flicked her fingers toward the bag.

  “It’s fine. You’re more important. Here, drink this.” Mason twisted the cap off a water bottle and held it out for her.

  “You know, I can feed myself?”

  “Prove it.” He scooted the plastic flatware toward her and stood back to observe the proof.

  She tipped the bottle up for a sip. The cool liquid slid down her parched throat. She gulped more down, then another until most of the bottle was gone.

  “You think you’re okay, but you’re not. Your body is still strung tight,” Mason said.

  He left her at the table and walked through the single room apartment. Besides the kitchen there was a sofa, TV, bed, an armoire, and the bathroom. Judging by the décor, whoever lived here was probably female and younger—maybe Hannah’s age.

  “This will be good for tonight.” Mason peered out through the windows.

  Three stories up was a little far by Hannah’s standards. It wasn’t like they could climb out of the windows as an escape route.

  She opened the food and groaned. Whatever it was—it smelled amazing.

  Mason joined her and together they dug into lunch and dinner combined. The little pastry things they’d grabbed at the airport on the go hadn’t been enough to last. Hannah shoveled the food in, practically inhaling it. The only thing keeping her from eating it all was wondering where her next meal would come from and when she’d get it.

  She leaned back in the chair and
exhaled, expelling the fear and stress of the night.

  Mason was there.

  She’d be okay.

  And to think, she could have been on this trip with Dylan if things had ended up differently. The world was full of small miracles. If Mason and Dylan’s places were swapped, it would be Hannah hauling Dylan’s ass around, getting them out of trouble. Thank goodness she had Mason with her.

  “How do you think they picked me?” She wasn’t sure that was a question she wanted answered. “Or did they pick me at all? Did I just take a drink?”

  “I think they picked you. The organization seems to be more sophisticated than snatching unlucky tourists.” Mason wiped his mouth and flipped the container closed.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Zain ran some information on the guests, disappearances...and that radio prize you said you’d won.” He frowned, as if he’d tasted something bad. “It looks like the resort is in on it. People win the prize, call in, and make their reservation. Someone at the resort, maybe Luis, has to look them up. If it’s a pretty girl, she’s a mark.”

  “And? What aren’t you saying?”

  “There was one set of disappearances that didn’t make sense.”

  “Okay.”

  “A pair of girls won the trip, left home, went through customs, and disappeared. They were headed here, but they never arrived.”

  “Did they make it to the charter plane?”

  “No clue.”

  “We were supposed to fly on a private charter plane.” She gripped the water bottle so tight the plastic bent.

  “Don’t read into it, Hannah. We don’t know enough yet to really understand what their operation is like yet.”

  She swallowed and stared across the room.

  It just got worse and worse all the time.

  “What did Luis tell you?” she asked.

  “You don’t have to worry about it, Hannah.”

  “I want to know. This is happening because of me. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

  “Okay, okay.” Mason cleared his throat. “Luis said a white man he didn’t know gave him the drugs, but Luis usually works with a guy named Rogelio. I guess he’s the one who tells the resort staff who he’s picking up and when. Other than that, Luis didn’t know a lot. He’s probably nothing in the scheme of things.”

  “Did you hurt him?”

  Mason stared at her for several seconds.

  “Yes,” he finally said, his voice rough, his gaze hard. It was the look of a man who didn’t regret what he’d done—and he’d do it again.

  “Good.” Was he expecting her to be upset he hurt a man who’d drugged and helped kidnap two women? How many other girls had he hurt?

  “Zain will hack into Rogelio’s phone, figure out who he is, where he is, and from there we can hopefully learn where the girls are being held. If they’re being moved.”

  “It seems so impossible.”

  “I know.”

  “Are we doing the right thing? Should we just leave?”

  “Helping those girls is the right thing to do. Can we? I don’t know. We’ll see. Give it our best shot.” He reached over and took one of her hands in his. “You did good tonight.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. Good?

  “I shot my gun,” she said.

  “You had to protect yourself.”

  “What if I’d hit someone? God, it was so irresponsible and dangerous.”

  “No one got hurt. I bet you scared those guys off and they never even followed you. You did good. You got away.”

  “I guess.” But she couldn’t be proud of it. Not when she so easily could have hurt someone. “What do we do now?”

  “We put dinner away. Maybe get a shower. Sleep.” He squeezed her hand again.

  “I don’t think I can sleep.”

  “I bet you’ll be surprised. It’s been a long, exhausting day. Can I ask you something?”

  “Hm?” Maybe he was right. She could feel herself oozing into the chair so to speak.

  “Did...did we use a condom last night?”

  “What?” She jerked her hand out of his. Not the question she’d been expecting. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “Why?”

  “I just, I can’t remember. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t a total asshole.”

  “You weren’t. Give it a rest?”

  “I don’t have anything, either.”

  “What?” Could he stop talking?

  “STD, STI, stuff.”

  “Good. Congratulations.” She pushed to her feet, needing space. She didn’t want to think about last night, not until she was by herself and she could really unpack her thoughts and feelings about it. She wasn’t ready to accept that sex with Mason had changed her. Not the sex, but him. He changed her. The man she couldn’t have—and the one who would die to protect her.

  This sucked. And what was worse? He still didn’t remember a moment of it.

  10.

  Mason watched Hannah stride across the room and come to an abrupt stop in front of the windows. Dirt stained her khaki shorts and the white top, but she was alive. He was grateful for her quick thinking and fast feet. She lifted the lace edge of the curtain and peered out at the street. Night had descended in full force, swaddling the city in starlight.

  What had he done wrong now?

  Man, he excelled at fucking up.

  He collected their to-go boxes and stored them in the fridge, giving Hannah a bit of space while he mulled over her sudden snappishness. Maybe it wasn’t him at all. Maybe it was the stress of their situation. It was a demanding set of circumstances to be in, and lashing out at him could be her way of dealing with it all. He’d been in stranger crises with customers, but this was Hannah. Having her upset ate at him. He wanted to fix things. And he didn’t know how without taking her away from here. An option she’d firmly squashed.

  Then there was the fact that they had sex—and he couldn’t remember it.

  Talk about a crime. He’d pummel Luis again all over for that alone. He’d been inside her, and he had no clue what it was like. How she sounded. What she felt like. There were hints, bits of shadows lodged in his brain that tickled whenever he was focused on something else, but he had no way to recall those moments.

  Mason slowly crossed the apartment. He didn’t dare get too close. Hannah was a beast when it came to sparring and her right hook was gnarly. He stood opposite of her, a good four feet between them, and the soft light filtering through the curtains got caught in her hair, giving it a heavenly glow.

  “You wanna...talk about it?” he asked. Girls liked to talk things out, right?

  “No,” she snapped.

  “What’s bugging you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re awfully touchy for nothing bothering you.”

  “God—Mason—will you just leave me alone?”

  “All right. Fine.” He pushed off the wall and turned. There wasn’t anywhere to go to give her space. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissy.”

  “Can you just stop?” She whirled to face him.

  “You’re the one that’s angry and defensive. All I asked was if we used a condom and you start biting my head off.”

  “We did. Can we move on now?”

  No, no he did not want to move on. He wanted to remember, to know what it was like, but he couldn’t and it was starting to piss him off.

  “Are you upset because I can’t remember? Is that it?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “I’m not upset. I just want to stop talking about it.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  “No, Mason.” She covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head.

  Was she the kind of girl who couldn’t talk about sex? Or didn’t want to? Some people got weird about it. He liked it as much as the next guy, but he also had great parents who were up front about the facts. They talked to him not only abou
t a man’s responsibility, but what his partner went through as well. His mother in particular had stressed that sex went beyond the physical act of penis-in-vagina for many women. Still, he wasn’t a chick. He couldn’t get it, but it didn’t make him an ignorant asshole either.

  “I just want to move on. We can forget it ever happened.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ceiling. “That shouldn’t be hard for you.”

  Her words burned. Given the opportunity, he’d never forget a thing about Hannah.

  “It happened.” He stared at her mouth and the little way one corner twisted up.

  “How do you know? You can’t remember it.”

  He took two steps and nearly barreled over her. Her eyes opened wide and she took a half step back against the brick wall.

  “I might not remember everything,” he planted his hands on the wall, caging her between his body and the brick, “but there are bits and pieces coming back to me. You can pretend it didn’t happen if you want to, but it did.”

  “W-what do you remember?” If possible, her eyes got even larger until he was lost in them.

  He closed his eyes and leaned in, inhaling the scent of perfume still clinging to her skin. Last night it’d been mixed with coconut and citrus. She’d tasted of it. He lifted a hand and tipped the cap off her head.

  “Your hair between my fingers.” He twirled a wayward lock around a single digit. Another memory tickled the back of his mind. “The way you moaned when I kissed you here.”

  Mason kissed her neck.

  Not there.

  He went lower.

  Nope. Not quite.

  There. The curve of flesh where her neck met her shoulder, just behind the tendon. He sucked lightly at the spot, flicking his tongue over it.

  Hannah’s breath caught and her body trembled. He captured both her hands and stretched them out, fingers twined together. Her chest heaved, and some of the little panting noises might even be called moans or whimpers.

  She was holding back. Last night she’d been loud, and now she was reining it in.

  Because she didn’t want to remember? Or she didn’t want to do it again?

  The answer didn’t matter. She didn’t want him.