by G. K. Parks
My heart sank. I hadn’t even processed it yet, but standing in that shed, I wanted nothing more than to be with Martin. Marriage wouldn’t be so bad. It’d make him happy. Hell, it might even make me happy.
“Emotionally compromised?” I repeated, hearing the lawyer speak behind his words.
“Yeah, I don’t ever want to trick you into something that you don’t want to do.”
“Isn’t that how you convinced me to move in with you?”
“That was supposedly your idea, but we both see how well that worked out.” He snorted.
“Let me guess, Francesca’s lawyers are claiming that you manipulated her into the contract because you took advantage of her emotionally compromised state.”
“Something like that, but it got me thinking that’s what I did to you. Maybe that’s something that I’ve always done in order to win business deals and get what I want. I don’t know.” He began trailing kisses along my collarbone. “I want you to say yes without coercion or any doubt in my mind. And I want to ask when there are no fringe benefits aside from you being naked. It’s possible that part of the reason I asked when I did was to prevent you from being able to testify against me.”
“Which of us were you trying to protect?”
“Both, I guess.” He stared into my eyes. “But I’m telling you now, I’ll ask again soon, so you should be prepared.”
“Why would you want to spend your life with an emotionally compromised lunatic who’s out of work for the next six weeks or so?”
“Medical leave?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Yeah, and my reward for helping end this reign of terror.”
“Good. That means we’ll have time for a lot more mind-blowing sex, and you’ll get a preview of the fringe benefits you’ll enjoy on our honeymoon.”
“Aren’t you afraid that you’re being coercive?”
“In this instance, I’m willing to risk it.”
Crisis of Conscience is now available and features a brief crossover with Julian Mercer. Here’s an excerpt:
My hand shook, and I held my breath to steady my aim. The target was straight ahead, probably fifty yards, maybe a little more. My palms were sweaty, and my trigger finger was starting to cramp. I’d been waiting all day for the perfect shot, and now I didn’t know if I could take it. Shifting my position ever so slightly, I delayed firing for a few more beats. I wanted this to be perfect. There was no margin for error. Federal agents didn’t have the luxury of missing. It was life or death.
“Take the shot,” SSA Mark Jablonsky ordered, his voice in my ear.
I pulled the trigger halfway through my exhale. The bullet ripped through the air, hitting my target between the eyes. Without waiting, I squeezed the trigger again and again. That bastard needed to go down.
“He’s dead, Parker. You got him,” Jablonsky said, but I ignored him. My focus was entirely on the target, and I continued to pull the trigger even after the magazine was empty. “Alexis, stop.” Without turning, I reloaded the clip in my gun, but Mark put his hand on my forearm before I could fire again. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I flipped the safety on and placed my nine millimeter in my shoulder holster. “Can you clean up this mess?”
“Yeah,” he scrutinized me for a minute, “that was some nice shooting.”
“Only the first shot. The rest went straight to hell.” I tightened the brace on my wrist. “My grouping is all over the map. The guy looks like the victim of a drive-by.”
“So? It doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”
“Yeah,” I gave Mark an annoyed look, “except human targets move around. Paper ones just hang there. It’s an unfair advantage.”
“Do you want to run the course? HRT has some practice time scheduled for this weekend while the new recruits are being shown the ropes. You could tag along.”
“I don’t have the medical clearance for that.” I held up my braced wrist and headed for the door.
Leaving the shooting range in my wake, I climbed into my car and put my forehead against the steering wheel. It had been several weeks since the events that led to my sprained wrist, but more was off than just my shooting. The doctors hadn’t cleared me to return to work because of continued pain and weakness in my right hand. What good was a federal agent that couldn’t perform her duties?
I’d gone to the range to test out my capabilities. Mark must have gotten whiff of what I planned since he arrived to oversee the event. The last thing I needed or wanted was an audience, but I couldn’t exactly tell my boss to fuck off. Admittedly, I had a few times, which was probably why in addition to medical leave I had been suspended. Apparently I never learned how to play well with others, but Jablonsky was the least of my problems.
The left-handed shots I made were decent, scoring mostly in the ten ring, but I wasn’t worried about my left. It was my right, my dominant hand, that continued to cause problems. I’d been going to rehab for the last two weeks because the doctor didn’t think I was making the proper amount of progress for someone who had been diagnosed with a severe sprain and microfractures. The MRI had been inconclusive, so he thought it’d be best to retrain the tendons and ligaments while we strengthened the muscles.
James Martin, my boyfriend, had been annoying me with board games to improve my fine motor skills and hand functions when I wasn’t shooting paper men or working out. Thankfully, the rest of my body had healed from the latest ordeal, and I’d fallen onto the workout bandwagon pretty hard. That’s just what happens when I’m out on medical leave and left alone inside Martin’s large estate with nothing to do but take advantage of his home gym.
Entering the doctor’s office, I took a seat and waited. After some time, I was brought into a private room where I sat on top of the table and had my wrist twisted and bent while the doctor examined it. After reporting my own observed progress and hearing the latest updates from the physical therapist, it was decided that if I continued at this rate, I should be ready for light duty in a few weeks. That meant I would be chained to my desk inside the Office of International Operations, a branch of the FBI, while my partner, Eddie Lucca, and the rest of my colleagues fulfilled their obligations.
“Great,” I muttered.
Before I was forced into taking medical leave, I had been rather insubordinate, ignoring a direct order and mouthing off. Needless to say, I was suspended, pending an investigation. Depending on how that went, my suspension might turn into something more permanent, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about how well I could shoot with my right hand or what my teammates were doing. However, I doubted that Director Kendall or Supervisory Special Agent Mark Jablonsky would give me the axe. They practically begged me to take my old job back after I left the first time, so if they forced me out now, that would be counterproductive on their part. Plus, my brash actions might have stopped a terrorist attack. It was hard to say exactly, but since I hadn’t been at work following the aftermath of that potentially horrific day, I didn’t know how the powers that be regarded the role I played in that situation. Perhaps I’d phone Lucca and ask him how things were going, or I’d go home, run a few miles, and take a bath. There was a strong possibility that the second option would be the clear-cut winner in my internal struggle.
Bolting from the doctor’s office as quickly as possible, I returned to Martin’s estate and entered the code to open the gate. Why some millionaire CEO decided to date me was a mystery. I’d put him through hell more times than I could count, but still, he stuck around. Now we were living together or trying to. That didn’t mean I didn’t get skittish and camp out at my apartment for a few days when need be, but lately, I’d found it more comforting to be with him than away from him.
My reality had changed, and something inside my brain had finally snapped. The job had spooked me. I’d had one too many close calls, and with the time away from work, I realized that I was drifting again. It had happened once before after my previous partner was killed in action. Eventually, my
work in the private sector and close ties with Jablonsky led me back, making my OIO career a revolving door. I’d probably bounce back again. I just needed time. Once my wrist healed, everything would be back to normal, or so I told myself.
“How’d your appointment go?” Martin asked, surprising me when I stepped out of the car. “That was today, right?”
“The doc thinks I’ll be able to sit behind a desk in a couple of weeks. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve had enough excitement to last several lifetimes. Let’s try for humdrum.” His eyes narrowed at the sight of my holster. “You went to the range again?”
“Since you want to play twenty questions, it’s my turn. How did your deposition go?”
“It went. I’m considering a settlement. My experts assume that the value of the property is substantially less than what Francesca is asking, so if we pay market value, even though I contend that we already own the proprietary rights, it’ll be cheaper and less of a hassle in the long run.”
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” I raised an eyebrow, feeling smug. “Was it because you didn’t want your former flame to best you at something?”
He shrugged, taking my gym bag from my shoulder and carrying it up the stairs. “Let’s just say my priorities have shifted and getting this off my plate by any means necessary is what I intend to do.” He opened the door to the second floor, holding it like the gentleman he was. “It’s funny how quickly things can get knocked into perspective.”
“You have no idea.”
He dropped my bag on the floor and pulled me into his arms. “What did you have planned for the rest of the evening?”
“I’d either call Lucca and get an update from the office or go for a run and enjoy a soak.”
“Decisions, decisions.” Martin’s green eyes shone with that flirtatious look that was a little dangerous and undeniably sexy. “How about you choose option c?”
“Which is?”
“We go upstairs and rearrange the bedroom.” He leaned in closer, so I could feel his breath on my neck. “You know I wouldn’t leave work early for just anyone.”
“Charmer,” I teased, running my hands through his expertly styled, dark brown hair, “you really know how to make a girl feel special.”
“You are special.” He smiled. “I’ll race you upstairs.”
“On second thought, this isn’t a good idea.” I shook my head and leaned away from him. “We killed one of your lamps yesterday, and I have this horrible feeling that if we go upstairs now, the other one might become collateral damage.”
“I never liked that lamp anyway.” He moved closer, backing me against the wall in the living room. “Then again, there’s no reason we need to go all the way upstairs either.” He kissed me, his hands tangling in my long brown hair before traveling down my back and lifting me into his arms. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today,” he mumbled between kisses.
Something was wrong. I knew Martin, and while his sexual prowess was rather impressive, this was more along the lines of how he’d act if we hadn’t seen each other in several weeks. Perhaps this had something to do with his promise of an impending marriage proposal. My mind kept getting sidetracked by his lips, and I finally put my palms against his chest.
“Stop for a second,” I said, and he withdrew, staring at me with blazing eyes. “Are you high? Did Francesca slip you some ecstasy or something? I wouldn’t necessarily put it past her.”
“Alex,” Martin sighed heavily, releasing my legs so I could stand, “do you really think that seeing my ex made me this hot and bothered?”
That thought actually hadn’t crossed my mind until he said it, and I cocked my head to the side. “Did it?”
“Unbelievable. Forget it.” He picked up my bag and put it in the hall closet. “Go for your run or call Lucca. Whatever. I have meeting notes to catch up on.” He went to the staircase. “You know, you could have just said you weren’t in the mood.”
Rolling my eyes, I picked up the phone. It was clear something was up with Martin, besides the obvious, but I wasn’t sure what happened or why he was acting so strangely. Inevitably, he’d tell me what it was, but until then, I needed to take my frustration out on someone. Figuring it might as well be my pain in the ass partner, I dialed Lucca.
“Parker, what do you want?” he asked in lieu of a greeting.
“To say hello.”
“Well, you said it. Can I hang up now?”
“Stop being so literal, boy scout. I wanted to find out how the OIO was doing without me.”
“We’re surviving. It’s a lot quieter. No one’s been reprimanded. It’s peaceful.”
“Great, so then I don’t need to come back.”
“I didn’t say that.” He lowered his voice. “Truth be told, I could use you around here. You know why.”
“You never should have dropped that bomb on me, especially on that particular day.” I shook my head. “Look, I can’t help you. Frankly, I’m not even sure that I believe you. Trust is tantamount to the job. I have to believe that I can trust the people around me.”
He snorted. “Don’t bullshit me, Alex. I’ve heard your speech a million times. You’re all about self-reliance. You don’t want anyone to depend on you, and you don’t want to depend on anyone else. In the field, you want to watch your own back. I don’t see how you can have it both ways.”
“Maybe my outlook has changed. You had my back. If you didn’t, I might not be here now.” I stared across the living room and into the kitchen. “Honestly, a lot of agents had my back that day. I don’t believe any of them would put our lives in jeopardy by sharing intel with the enemy.”
“Regardless of what you believe, it doesn’t change the truth.” Lucca cleared his throat, returning his voice to a normal volume. “Can we meet somewhere and discuss this?”
“The doctor hasn’t cleared me from medical leave, and once he does, I still have that suspension looming.”
“Jablonsky didn’t tell you? The review board already convened and decided that it’s time served. You’ve been cleared. Jablonsky wants you back here as soon as possible, so does Director Kendall. You’ve once again proven yourself to be the golden child.”
“Delusional bastards,” I muttered. “Well, in any event, it’ll be a few more weeks. My bum wrist can’t compensate for the weight of my side arm just yet. It keeps screwing up my shot. I won’t be able to requalify, and if I can’t carry, I can’t be in the field.”
“You don’t have to be in the field to help. Honestly, you’d be more useful behind a desk. Plus, it’d be a lot harder to get into trouble.”
“That’s what you say now, but somehow, trouble always finds me.” I glanced up the stairs, knowing that I needed to go look for trouble this time. “I gotta go. Stay safe out there, Eddie.”
“Damn, you’re turning soft. You better get your ass back here while I can still recognize you.”
We disconnected, and I went to Martin’s office and knocked on the door. He didn’t bother to turn around, but he gestured that I could enter. At least that was a good sign.
“You left in the middle of our game of twenty questions,” I said, hopping up on an empty part of the desk. “It might have been your turn, but I can’t remember. So I’ll go again. Why are you home early from work?”
He dropped the pen and swiveled around to face me. “Obviously, I was hoping for a little afternoon delight.” I raised a skeptical eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine, you can stop the interrogation. I’ll tell you,” he said dramatically. “My Board of Supervisors doesn’t want me anywhere near the company until this lawsuit has been handled, even though it’s my company, my name is on the damn door, and I’m majority owner. But none of that matters.”
“They can’t kick you out.”
“Officially, no.” He traced his finger along my thigh, hoping to rekindle what he started downstairs. “But it’s the right decision. Until this is swept under th
e rug, a lot of our buyers and investors are distancing themselves in the event Francesca’s claims prove to be true. The Board believes they’re more likely to continue doing business with us if they don’t have to associate with me personally.”
“But there’s no proof to her sexual harassment claims.”
“That’s not what they’re worried about. That’s bullshit, and we all know it. It might just be hard to disprove.” He shrugged, shaking his head and getting back on topic. “If Martin Technologies were to lose the intellectual property rights on the contested tech for any reason, then anything that was created or sold afterward could potentially become part of a secondary lawsuit.”
“So by distancing themselves from you, they have plausible deniability.”
“Plus, the company can deny the claims and maintain some semblance of being unbiased while I can’t do the same since I was named specifically in the suit.”
“In other words, you came home and wanted to screw your brains out so you wouldn’t have to think about this.”
“Actually, I saw you and couldn’t stop thinking about last night.” He smiled. “I still can’t.”
“Then let’s see how clear your mind is after a repeat performance.”
Two
Opening my eyes, I gave Martin a lopsided smile and glanced at the nightstand. “Did we kill another one?”
“No,” he replied, “it didn’t break when it hit the floor. The other must have been constructed with shoddy workmanship.”
“Or we knocked into it a lot harder than its companion.” I laughed. “At least there aren’t any casualties to report this time.” I closed my eyes against the morning sun that was filtering in through the curtains. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”