Carter: The Sinner Saints #1 (11 page)

Screw playful. Maybe the direct approach was better. Ally put down her wine glass and straightened her shoulders.

“Carter, did I do something wrong?” she asked.

His eyes flickered away from the window for just a second. “What? Of course not. Why would you…”

And away he went again.

Ally decided not to wait for him this time.

“Because five minutes ago, I thought you and I were sharing a moment. A snuggled close together, candlelit, fancy restaurant moment and then—”

Carter lifted a hand to his far ear and pressed a finger against it. Ally’s brows pulled together.

What the hell?

He whispered something into his sleeve.

Oh, hell no. He couldn’t be. He wouldn’t.

Ally spun around in her seat, and looked out the window to where Carter was staring—really looked for the first time since being seated at this table.

There, across from the restaurant was Buck Fuller’s office. The one that they’d escaped from the night before. They’d been a block away from it the whole time.

Ally picked up her wine glass as all the pieces fell together in her mind. That was the real reason why they’d come back to downtown Sacramento. Why he’d chosen this hotel. Why she needed this dress. This restaurant. Hell, even this table. Everything had been meticulously thought out well in advance.

She was nothing more than a chess piece he was pushing around on the board.

Need to get her out of the way for a couple of hours, send her down to the spa. Need a date to not seem conspicuous in a restaurant, buy the poor pawn a fancy dress.

Ally downed the rest of her wine in a single gulp.

Once she was done with the glass, she folded her arms in front of the table. She told herself that she wasn't going to look behind her, that whatever she saw there would only make her angrier. But it was like an itch on her nose—the more she thought about it, the more it bothered her.

Ally craned her head behind her…and instantly wished that she hadn’t.

The blinds that covered the windows of Fuller’s offices were pulled all the way up, so that from their vantage point they could practically see through the whole second floor of the building…and the people moving around in it.

Two men—both with short hair, about the same height, one blonde, one with light brown hair. But the way that they moved gave them away. One stiff and efficient, the other loose and calm.
Iceman
and Mason.

She craned her head down at the street, and sure enough
Bruiser
in all his rowdy-looking glory was standing by the front door.

Nice.

Ally grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself another glass. She was going to need it.

And Carter?

She glanced up at him, as he whispered into his cuff again.

Running point, of course. Where else would the
Captain
be?

Ally shook her head. What had she been thinking, to believe that even for a second that any of this had something to do with her? She should have known better. She really should have.

The waiter came over, but Carter didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you ready?” the poor man asked, obviously trying his best to ignore the painfully awkward situation that was happening at their table. Ally wondered what he must be thinking. Probably that they’d had a fight. If only her problems could be that pedestrian.

Ally pursed her lips together. She hadn’t so much as glanced at the menu since they’d sat down.

Of course, neither had Carter, and that wasn’t stopping him from getting on with his plans. Well, if he saw no reason to stop, then neither should she. She’d come here to have a nice dinner, and, by God, that’s what she was going to do.

“I hear you have a nice filet mignon,” she said.

“Exceptionally fine, miss,” the waiter said. “It’s served with—”

“Sounds great,” she said, gathering up the menus and handing them over. “I’ll have that.”

The man lingered for a moment before turning his attention toward Carter. “And for the gentleman?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ally shot a glare Carter’s way. “He’ll have a salad.”

“Any particular kind of salad?”

“Preferably something with cold tentacles on it,” Ally said.

The waiter’s lips parted for a moment as his brows pulled together, but apparently whatever doubts he had, he decided to keep them to himself.

Smart man. At least there was one of them in this place.

“I will see what the chef can do,” he said.

Ally gave the waiter a wide smile as he walked away. She’d make sure that Carter left him a big tip, seeing as he barely even noticed that the man was there to start with.

She picked up her glass and took another swig of wine before checking out the window again.

There were other men on the floor now. Ones she didn’t recognize, wearing dark blue pants and shirts. The uniforms looked like standard security guard garb, but Ally wasn’t so sure. There was something about the confident way that they walked, the long strides, the minimal movements. They appeared to be on watch, checking into all the offices they walked past, but there was no easy banter between the two of them, no lazy lingering or leaning.

These weren’t regular security guards. These were Allied Dynamic mercenaries. Even from across the street, Ally could tell.

Her heart started to pound just looking at them. Was one of them the one that had tried to kill her at her parent’s house?

She downed another mouthful of wine.

Ally had to twist around in her seat to see Carter’s men in the office down at the end, doing something around the computers and phones. Whatever it was, they weren’t doing it fast enough. The
security guards
were moving steadily in their direction. They had less than a minute before they were found out.

The guys had to get out of there now.

Ally leaned toward the window, clutching her wine glass tighter.

“Fifty seconds,” she heard Carter whisper into his cuff.

She watched as
Iceman
—Rhys, that was his real name—looked up and shook his head. She wasn’t sure if he meant they wouldn’t be finished with their task by then, or that they didn’t have the time to make a clean escape, but either way the message wasn’t any good.

Ally glanced over at Carter. He didn’t have so much as a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“That means you’re up, Jake,” he said.

Ally shifted her focus to down on the street where
Bruiser
, who was dressed in baggy jeans and a tattered grey hoodie, started to raise a fuss. Pounding on the door, kicking at the bushes, his mouth wide and screaming. She had to admit that
Bruiser
wasn’t a bad actor. He looked like every security guard’s rowdy drunk nightmare.

She might not have heard the commotion Jake was causing from across the street, but Fuller’s security detail sure did. They paused in the office next to the one Rhys and Mason were in. They went to the window and looked down at the street. One of the men pulled a radio off his belt and spoke into it. A second later, both men turned and headed out the door. Ally let out a loud exhale as the two hired guns started hustling back toward the elevators and away from Rhys and Mason.

The moment the coast was clear, Mason lifted his head and gave them the thumbs up. He and Rhys didn’t waste any time disappearing out the back way.

Ally turned back around in her seat. It took her a moment for her heart to stop hammering in her chest and for her to loosen her grip on her wine glass. Her hand was still shaking a little but she managed not to spill a drop as she put it on the tabletop.

She sucked in one steadying breath, and then another, before looking up. She found Carter gazing at her, the warmth back in his eyes.

He picked up his wine glass and took a sip. “So, where were we?”

Oh
, hells
no.

“You have to be kidding me,” Ally said, when she recovered from the shock. “What the hell was that?”

“A simple recon mission,” he said, cocking a brow. “Why, what did it look like?”

What? Did this guy have a charm switch that he could turn on and off at will?

Ally leaned forward. She dropped her voice down to a harsh whisper. “You lied to me.”

Carter bit into his lower lip as he slowly shook his head. If Ally didn’t know better she would have sworn that he almost looked hurt. As if he had any right to be.

“No, I didn’t,” he said.

“You lied about everything. Why we’re still in Sacramento. Why we’re staying at this hotel. Why we’re here for dinner.
Everything
.”

“That’s not true.” Hard determination shone in his eyes as he leaned forward. “I never lied. I just didn’t explain everything to you. There’s a difference.”

Ally’s lip curled up in frustration. “Like hell there is.” She picked up her napkin and crumpled it in her hand, twisting it tighter and tighter.

“This part of the mission was delicate, Ally. You didn’t need to know.”

“Dear God, do you even hear yourself?
Mission
.
Need to know
.” She tossed down the napkin. “This isn’t the damned Special Forces, Carter. This is my life, and I am not one of your little soldiers.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Trust me, I know.”

“I’m not your pawn either,” she said. Maybe it was the wine, but she figured that it was best to get all of this out there now. While she still had the courage burning hot in her blood. Because when it cooled, she had the feeling the depth of his glower was going to go right back to scaring the shit out of her.

His brows pulled together. “My pawn? I never said—”

“You didn’t have to. Today you got rid of me because I was inconvenient. Then tonight you dressed me up in doll clothes because you needed a cover. And trust me, I get everything that you’ve done so far, but I haven’t gotten a chance to agree with any of it. So, I’m going to make myself perfectly clear.”

Ally picked up her wine glass and took one last slug. One more taste of courage. She could practically feel Carter’s eyes burning into her as she drained the glass dry.

“There will be no more
need to know
for the rest of this
mission
of yours. No more secrets. No more keeping things from me for my own good,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “We are either partners in this, or we are nothing.”

For a moment, Carter didn’t say a word. He just kept his eyes on her. A tick worked in his hard jawline. It took everything Ally had just to stay steady in her chair and meet his gaze.

Finally, he folded his hands and propped them up on the table. “It’s not an arrangement that I’m used to.”

“Well, join the club,” Ally said, with a dark laugh. “Because let me tell you, between the gunshots and the running for my life, the past couple days have been a master class in being outside my comfort zone.”

The corners of Carter’s mouth quirked up for a fraction of a second. “And you’ve done great.”

“So do we have a deal?” she asked, feeling hopeful for the first time since she sat down at the table. “Can we stop acting like angry fourth-graders and treat each other like adults?”

The corners of his eyes tilted up. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“Oh no,” Ally said, shaking her head. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I know your style too well. I want an explicit answer. No wiggle room. No,
I never said
.”

“Yes,” Carter said without hesitation. “I agree to involve you in all the decision making that goes on in regards to bringing Fuller to justice from here on out. Is that explicit enough?”

“That ought to do it,” Ally said. She felt some of the weight melt away from her shoulders. See, he could be reasoned with. She hadn’t been completely wrong.

“Good,” he said, pulling his napkin down on his lap as the waiter walked toward them with their dinner plates in hand.

Oh, no
. Ally felt some of the blood drain from her face.

“Your filet mignon, Miss.”

Steam rose from her bacon-wrapped steak. The sauce smelled divine and potatoes looked amazing. The plating was gorgeous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a meal that looked and smelled this good.

The waiter put a bowl down in front of Carter.

“And your salad, sir.” The waiter’s voice faltered a little at the end. Ally couldn’t blame him.

“You can go,” she said to the poor man, before he felt obliged to ask if everything was all right. Obviously, she’d made the right choice, because he strode away without another peep.

Carter looked down at the bowl of crisp greens, Parmesan strips and small pink tentacles that radiated out from the center.

“What is this?” he asked, lifting his gaze to Ally’s face.