“These are the same people that killed Ivan,” Gabriel announced when he was dressed again. Justin couldn’t help but notice that an old stiffness had returned to Gabriel’s voice. His shoulders and back were straight, his bearing precise, as if he were holding himself tightly together.
Gabriel had spoken of Ivan only once before. The older man had been his mentor and partner…and eventually his secret lover. But those kinds of things weren’t allowed to happen in Russia. Eventually they were discovered. Ivan had sent Gabriel away under some excuse, and when he returned, he found Ivan had been tortured and killed. Gabriel had never said it, but Justin was willing to guess that it had been enough to make him close himself off to the entire world.
“And now they want to kill you,” Justin murmured.
“They’ve always wanted to kill me! The point is that they could easily decide to make you a target because you are linked to me.”
Justin closed the distance separating them in a few long strides. “Fine. Then we face them together.”
“No!” Placing both hands on Justin’s chest, Gabriel gave him a hard shove, forcing him to take a couple of steps backward. “Don’t you get it? I won’t allow them to steal you from me the same way they took Ivan. I will deal with them. I will make them pay for my years of pain, and the torture they inflicted on him.”
“But maybe I don’t want them to take you from me!” Justin shouted. Grabbing Gabriel’s wrist, he pulled the man in until their chests bumped. Lifting his head, he stole a hard kiss that had Gabriel moaning into his mouth. The angry kiss shifted, steadily becoming something sweeter and more tender.
When they finally broke apart, Gabriel leaned his forehead against Justin’s, his breath lightly brushing against Justin’s damp lips. “I need this, Justin. I need to do this for myself and for Ivan.”
“I know.” He hated it, but he understood.
“Come to bed with me.”
Justin nodded, grazing his lips across Gabriel’s. They took their time, slowly undressing one another. Justin kissed along each piece of skin he exposed, moving up Gabriel’s body like he meant to stake his claim on every inch of the man. Until he was able to learn every bit of Gabriel’s past, he would make do learning every bit of Gabriel’s body. He would know all the crevices, nooks, and scars. He would know what drove Gabriel crazy, and he would find that ever-elusive ticklish spot.
When he finally pushed inside of Gabriel, they were both sweating and panting. Gabriel chanted his name breathlessly on each exhale. They moved together, every grunt and moan perfection. They were made for this, made to be together. He knew it. He had to believe that Gabriel felt it too.
Justin wanted that moment to stretch on forever, but they both shouted their releases. Sweaty and out of breath, Justin wrapped his arms around Gabriel, holding him close.
“Let me help you,” Justin offered one last time because he couldn’t stop the words.
Gabriel chuckled, but it was soundless. Justin could feel it shaking the other man’s chest as they pressed against each other. “I’ve got it. Just need a couple of months and then I’ll be on your doorstep. You’ll have no idea what to do with me.”
Closing his eyes, Justin tamped down the fear that tried to claw its way up his throat to argue with Gabriel’s brash words. He would let Gabriel deal with this because he respected the man. Needed him.
It wasn’t long after that Justin drifted off. They’d barely managed to get cleaned up and under the covers before sleep claimed him. But it shouldn’t have been surprising. Justin had gotten up ridiculously early, jumped on a plane, had lots of sex, toured the Tower of London, more sex, dinner, chased an assassin, and finally…a little more sex. Justin was ready to sleep for a week, preferably with Gabriel pressed up against him.
When he woke the next day, Gabriel’s side of the bed was empty and cold. He lay on his side, staring at the rumpled sheets. It wasn’t just that the bed didn’t hold his muscular frame, but Justin knew that the house was empty as well. Gabriel had slipped away while he’d been dead to the world. It made sense. Justin would have done the same. Escaping while he was asleep made it that much harder for Justin to follow him, for Justin to force his assistance on Gabriel.
Groaning, Justin shoved back the covers and climbed off the bed. He pulled on some sleep pants before shuffling down to the kitchen for some coffee. The caffeine would help to get his brain working so he could plan his next step.
A smile pulled at Justin’s lips when he spotted a white mug next to the coffeemaker and a note.
Press the button, asshole. I’ve already prepped the machine for your grumpy ass.
You knew I would be gone in the morning, but your ego can at least enjoy the fact that it was the hardest departure I’ve ever had.
I wanted to stay.
The same way I wanted to stay at your house two months ago.
But I need to take care of this alone. Keeping you out of this is the only way I can keep you safe. Give me this, Justin. Please.
I’ll be with you soon.
G Love
Justin leaned against the counter and scrubbed his free hand through his sleep-rumpled hair. A lump had formed in his throat at Gabriel’s note. Maybe on the trek down the stairs he’d been thinking about packing up his shit and trying to track Gabriel down. He considered shadowing him for a bit, just watching his back in case he got into too much trouble.
But this note…fuck.…He needed to give Gabriel his space. He got it. His lover needed to face his own past if he was ever going to have a future. If they were going to have a future together.
Setting the note on the counter, he put the mug under the coffeemaker and pressed the button to start it brewing. He could give his G Love some time. Yeah, he’d give him a few months, and then he was going to hunt his sexy ass down.
Vengeful Lover
Book 2 of the Exit Strategy
By Jocelynn Drake
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
VENGEFUL LOVER Copyright ©2019 Jocelynn Drake. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Jocelynn Drake.
Cover art by Stephen Drake of Design by Drake.
Edited and proofed by Flat Earth Editing.
Created with Vellum
Prologue
Justin stood in front of the refrigerator, his right hand resting on top of the open door. He reached across with his left hand and rubbed his bare shoulder while staring at the sad contents of his fridge. He’d not completed an actual grocery run in nearly a month, and he couldn’t use work as an excuse. It had been two weeks since his last job, and that had been just a bit of hacking work.
No, the lackluster collection of old takeout, wilting lettuce, and beer held little interest for him. He didn’t want to order out again. The damn delivery guys were starting to remember him. He didn’t want to go to the grocery store. He was a sad sack, and there was only one reason for it.
Gabriel Prescott.
Sighing loudly, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He needed to pull his shit together instead of worrying about Gabriel’s recent radio silence.
More than six months ago, Gabriel had walked out of his house, promising he’d return when it was safe. Justin didn’t ask for details nor did he dig for them, no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted Gabriel to tell him.
For the first four months, they’d talked regularly.
They’d texted. They’d had some of the dirtiest video calls that left him panting in his bed, covered in cum, and aching to wrap his arms around Gabriel. There had been that one amazing booty call, the trip to London that had actually put Gabriel in his arms for twenty-four hours.
But after Justin returned home from London, he’d noticed the darkening shadows under Gabriel’s eyes and the lines of strain digging into his handsome face during the last few video calls.
A month ago, the video calls stopped, and the text messages became shorter and more sporadic. Gabriel warned him it might be a while before they talked again.
And then silence.
Justin slammed the fridge door shut and paced over to the sink. He held the edge of the counter because it meant that he wasn’t marching down to the basement and his secret Rolodex of contacts. He knew that with a few calls he could discover Gabriel’s location, but it would mean putting people on Gabriel’s trail when the man didn’t need more people looking for him.
“Fuck!”
He should never have let him walk out the door of his house six months ago. Not without making him tell Justin his plans that night. Tell him, once and for all, everything about his past. Justin would have spilled everything about himself…well, nearly everything…probably.
Fuck, this was hard. Why couldn’t he just have Gabriel safe? Then they could figure everything out.
Boyfriends were not something he’d had a lot of experience with. Between his time in the military and the CIA before going freelance, Justin had never really pursued a relationship with someone, because how the hell did he explain what he did for a living? He didn’t. At least, not until Gabriel came along. With Gabriel, he didn’t have to explain shit because the man understood. He freaking lived it!
But it wasn’t that simple. They both had more than their share of secrets and complications. Now Gabriel was trying to tie up loose ends and clean up his past so they could have a life without looking over their shoulders. Justin couldn’t understand why Gabriel wouldn’t let him help. He was handy in a fight, good with a gun, and even better with a computer.
A hard, sharp knock on the front door jerked Justin from his dark thoughts. He pushed off the sink and checked the video camera on his front porch using an app on his phone. The last person he expected to see was standing there. Marilyn. His handler. The person who supplied him with a steady stream of contracts. And apparently, the same person who supplied Gabriel with contracts. The stylish woman was dressed in a puffy blue coat and jeans while fuzzy black earmuffs protected her ears from the winter wind. He hurried to the door and jerked it open.
“You need to pack a bag now,” she said by way of greeting.
“I’m on a break,” he growled. He’d made that clear to her when he finished his last contract. He wanted to be free in case Gabriel needed him for something. That…and maybe he’d lost his taste for the work.
“Prescott is in trouble.” She stepped past him into the house with a clomp of boots on hardwood. Though after her announcement, she could have just pushed him over and he’d have done nothing to stop her.
“What?” He slammed the door shut behind her and hurried to catch up to where she was laying out photos from a manila folder.
“Gabriel? You remember him? The man who apparently decided to clean up his past so he could have his happily ever after with your pathetic ass?” she said snidely, her eyes narrowed. Marilyn stood roughly four inches shorter than him, but what she lacked in stature, she more than made up for with attitude.
Justin’s mouth fell open, and he nearly stumbled into the kitchen. He’d never expected to hear those words tumbling from Marilyn’s lipstick-pink lips. “What? He told you that?”
Marilyn rolled her eyes. The woman looked the part of the happy middle-class housewife with perfect dark-brown hair and just-so outfit, but there was a cold knowledge resting in her dark-brown eyes. Justin didn’t doubt she had her own dirty past that he couldn’t even begin to fathom.
“Not in so many words. But I set you two up on one job together, and when it’s finished, he tells me he needs to take a step back from jobs. Then one day out of the blue he suddenly wants the names on all the contracts for his head. He’s cleaning house. Two days later, you contact me and tell me that you’re taking a break and cutting back on jobs.”
Justin could feel the wobbly smile pulling at his lips and his heart giving an erratic skip of joy.
She sighed loudly. “You both make me sick.”
“This isn’t a bad thing.”
Marilyn slapped a grainy photo down on the counter. “Right now, for Gabriel, it’s a very bad thing.”
Justin looked down at the picture, and his heart stopped for an entirely different reason. Naked from the waist up, Gabriel sat tied to a chair, his body badly beaten, with several long lacerations across his chest. His eyes were nearly swollen shut and his face was bruised, but Justin could tell it was him.
Hundreds of questions poured through his brain about how Marilyn had known, how she’d gotten the information, and why she was even trying to help them, but none of them were as important as the one he finally forced past the lump in his throat.
“Where is he?”
“From what I’ve been able to gather, he’s outside of Berlin. They’ve moved him twice, and if they keep up with their current schedule, you’ve got about a two-day window before they move him again.” Reaching inside her folder, she pulled out a plane ticket. “Your flight to Amsterdam leaves in three hours. Reservations for a rental car are also set up.”
Justin stared at the ticket in shock. He hadn’t expected this. Not from Marilyn. She was a handler. She managed contracts for him, played the middleman, and got a percentage of the bounty. That was it. She didn’t arrange travel, and she certainly didn’t assist her mercs when they got into trouble. If anything, she cut them loose because they were a liability.
“Well?” she snapped when he didn’t move.
Justin snatched up the ticket, then pulled her into a hard bear hug, squeezing an “oof” out of her.
“Yes. There, there,” she said, giving him a little pat on the shoulder. “Go get your boy. When you get back, we can discuss how much you both owe me.”
Justin spared Marilyn a quick nod before he was racing up the stairs to pack a bag. He had a safe house set up in Amsterdam. He could make a stop for more weapons on the way to get Gabriel. God help whoever had their hands on him, because he was going to make them all regret they ever laid a finger on his G Love.
Chapter 1
Fuck, it was cold!
Justin stuffed his hands under his armpits while he crouched under a large pine tree and glared at the old farmhouse. Warm, yellow light slipped between the heavy curtains that were hung over the windows, promising heat and an escape from the bitter wind that was finding its way between the trees.
He’d followed Marilyn’s instructions to the letter. There simply hadn’t been time to deviate from her plan. He hopped a plane to the Netherlands, where he stopped at his one stronghold in the city—a modest apartment that he visited usually only a couple of times a year but held enough weapons and ammunition to supply a small army. Grabbing what he thought he might need, he picked up the rental car Marilyn reserved and drove into Germany.
Just outside of Hanover, Marilyn contacted him again, confirming Gabriel’s last known location: a lonely farmhouse in the middle of a forest near the small town of Templin. It was just northeast of Berlin. The remote location helped him work without being seen, but it made getting Gabriel out and somewhere he could get medical attention more difficult.
Of course, that was assuming Marilyn’s intel was still good. He had no idea how she was getting this information or if it was dated at all. It had taken him more than nine hours to drive from Amsterdam due to horrible road conditions. Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since Marilyn had shown up on his doorstep, and he’d grabbed very little sleep on the plane. Now he was freezing his ass off in snow that was
nearly two feet deep.
If Gabriel wasn’t in there, the man was getting an earful when Justin finally located him.
And if he was in there…fuck, he’d better be alive.
At the very least, Justin knew multiple people were in the farmhouse, and definitely not farmers. Lights had flickered off and on as people changed rooms. And once an hour, someone stepped outside and walked the same path around the house, flattening the snow while holding an automatic weapon in his hands. Just one lucky schmuck drawing the short straw to venture out into the cold and maintain a weak perimeter.
Justin smirked behind the face shield he wore to protect his skin from the cold and to hide his identity. He’d already sneaked around the farmhouse, sticking to the thick cover offered by the woods. There had been a couple of little traps set up as early warnings to the occupants of the house, but Justin had made quick work of dismantling them. As far as he could tell, they had no idea they were being watched and judging by the lackluster security, it looked as if they weren’t actually expecting trouble. It appeared to be a slapdash effort made out of habit rather than fear of being noticed. Good. He was more than happy to take advantage of their laziness.
Shortly before the next sentry was scheduled to make his trip around the house, Justin broke from the woods. It was well after ten and darkness sank deep into the area, cloaking his movements. The moon couldn’t even be seen overhead—just a bright sparkling of stars shining down. Justin darted from the woods to an old equipment shed and then finally to a carriage port attached to the side of the house. An old van was parked under it now, protecting it from the snow. He masked his footprints in the snow as much as he could, hoping the guard chose to investigate over shouting an immediate alarm. Justin had no idea how many people were in the house, but he didn’t want to try to take them all on at once.
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