Savage Scheme (10 page)

“She’s not here. She must have doubled back.” She opened her eyes and stared at the door, waiting for it to burst open and knowing it wasn’t going to. She pushed away the pang of hurt in her heart knowing the man she would give anything for, the man who was as close as a father ever would be to her, was walking away. She kept her gun on the door for long moments after Carlos’ voice had drifted on the wind, long after the footsteps had disappeared. Letting out a slow breath, she slipped her knife back into its place at her thigh and turned to find the man had gone peculiarly white. Not having time to worry about him she walked past him toward the kitchen. Turning around she levelled him with an emotionless stare.

“I was never here.” He nodded his head quickly and she suddenly felt a spark of guilt at the fear that creased his face. “I’m sorry I disturbed your night. They won’t be back,” she assured him.

“There are fresh towels and a medical kit in the washroom,” he croaked out. “For your leg.”

She looked down to see the black of her pants glistened as the blood continued to soak through the material. “Thank you.”

Shoving a handful of towels and the kit into her bag, she climbed the stairs that led to the roof. Leaning against one of the large air conditioning shafts, she slid down, exhaustion starting a dull ache through her. She was losing too much blood. Pulling off the remnants of her shirt from her leg, she tore her pants to get to the wound. Wiping it with the gauze she’d found in the kit she breathed a sigh of relief that it was only a flesh wound. Pulling out her own emergency kit from her bag, she gripped the small bottle of lidocaine and shoved the needle into the cap. Blowing out a rough breath as she felt the sharp prick then the sting of the liquid run through her, she knew it was only a matter of minutes before the pain subsided. Quickly disinfecting her leg, she began to close the gash with quick and precise stitches. Bandaging it tightly, she shoved the bloody evidence of her existence into one of the ducts before moving onto the next roof. She knew her motel room was trashed, but she also knew something Carlos didn’t. That she’d also rented the room three doors down. She knew the excitement for the night was over. Randall would lead them on a wild goose chase, convincing Carlos and his goons that she was making her way to the other side of the city. They would be after her again, night after night until they found her. She would never be safe.

“How long ago?” Nate’s voice pulled her out of the past.

“What?”

“How long ago?” he asked again, his fingers tracing the outline of the scar.

“Four years ago.” The same year Randall died. She closed her eyes against the heated kiss he laid on her thigh before moving onto the next bare inch of skin. She whimpered at both his touch and the sheer gratitude that he didn’t probe further into her scars. The gunshot wasn’t the only one she carried and he’d made sure to kiss each one. She realized she wasn’t the only one whose skin bore war wounds. Nate had a few of his own and she wanted the story behind each one but knowing she could never know that part of him. It was clear they both held secrets, she just wouldn’t be around long enough to uncover his.

“Hey,” he said, nipping the inside of her knee. “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” she nodded. “I need you Nate, now.” She didn’t think she’d ever spoken truer words. In understanding, he moved so his face was above hers. He slid slowly, deeply inside of her causing her breath to stutter, her eyes to close as he filled her completely.

“Open your eyes, love. Let me see you.” She felt his gaze boring into hers, silently demanding everything she had to give. She felt him, every part of him as he continued to melt deeper into her. She swore she could almost feel him touching her soul. She felt her breath quicken as the crescendo built, her legs moved to wrap around him, her heels digging deep into his ass in an effort to keep him there. She just wanted more time, she needed more time with him. She realized she wanted forever. At that thought, she heard herself cry out, Nate’s name on her lips before he drove himself to his own climax.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured between kisses as he quickly untied her wrists. “I don’t know what to do with you, baby.” Just when she thought he would continue his curiously confusing statement, he swept her away in a kiss that burned her senses. Falling onto the mattress beside her he swept her into his arms so she rested her head on his chest. His fingers found her hair and she found herself in the lull between sleep and consciousness. She resolved to commit every moment to memory. Nate managed to do what no one had ever done for her - he managed to make her feel cherished, special. He made her feel loved. Swallowing the emotion that was building she felt him stir beneath her.

“We have to get ready,” he groaned, his lack of commitment in the statement apparent. Just as she was about to argue, to convince him that naked was exactly as they should stay and in bed was exactly where they should be, Nate’s phone rang and like a cold bucket of water she remembered real life.

Nate leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom watching Libby, as she ran a brush through her hair standing only in a teasing lace bra and panties. He didn’t know how to handle the wave of emotions he’d felt when Cameron had told him she was packing her bag. He didn’t think he’d ever run so fast in his life to get to her before she’d left. He knew Libby and he knew that if he hadn’t gotten home in time to stop her, she would have disappeared into the wind and he would have a hell of a time finding her again. He’d decided that if she was gone he would find her. And it would be hard as hell. His wildcat knew how to hide in the shadows and in plain sight. They’d had a difficult enough time finding her buried in Toronto and it was obvious she knew how to alter her appearance to become whoever she wanted. She was a chameleon at its best. In all of his years in the military and then as a private investigator, he’d never known anyone with her training and skills. She knew how to blend in, become part of whatever scene she placed herself in and she did it with an ease unlike he’d ever seen. Tonight he just wanted Libby. No disguises, no pretending. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d never felt more like himself. Laughing, smiling, excitement were all emotions he’d thought had died along with his heart after Angela, hell, if he was honest with himself they were emotions he’d thought had died while he was with Angela. Libby made him want things, beyond this mission and beyond the next.

“Will you take out the contacts for tonight?” he asked her quietly. He watched as she stilled her movements, her entire body tense, unmoving. She turned her gaze to meet his in the mirror. It was times like these that he hated her ability to hide any emotions she was feeling. “Just for tonight, please.” She averted her eyes, considering his question. He remained casual, relaxed knowing if he was anything else right now she would be spooked. With a sharp nod of her head, she pulled a black plastic box out of the makeup bag she had on the counter. Reaching up she removed first one, then the other with slow, meticulous movements, placing the contacts in their place. He caught a glimpse of the dark interior and it was obvious the grey contacts weren’t the only camouflage she possessed. It was evident that she was skilled in transforming herself and with a sudden morbid curiosity, he wanted to see the whole masquerade. If Cameron hadn’t produced photos from when Libby was younger, he wouldn’t have known what was hiding underneath. Big brown eyes stared back at him. He was gut-punched by the gorgeous, vulnerable woman who wasn’t backing down from his gaze. He wondered when the last time was that she’d been herself if ever. He knew her hair colour wasn’t natural, but he would settle for the beauty that stood in his bathroom.

Mine.

The word flashed over and over in his head. He knew he wasn’t letting her go. He couldn’t. Not now, not tonight, not ever. He stalked toward her, grabbing and turning her hips to pull her against him. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He cupped her jaw, his thumb running softly across her cheek. Leaning in he pressed a lingering kiss against her lips. Before he threw her on the counter and tore away her panties, he pulled away. “Ready for dinner?” She nodded her head and with a small smile stepped out of his arms, grabbing the dress that was hanging on the door behind him.

Opening Libby’s door after they’d parked in the parking lot of
Pete’s
bar, his eyes caught sight of the black bag she’d insisted on bringing with her. He didn’t like the fact that she had her getaway bag but he knew she was cautious and she felt it was a way of protecting herself. He had no idea what other arsenal she kept in her bag of tricks but he knew the modified gun that was practically an extension of her arm was tucked away in her purse while a wicked little knife was strapped to her bare thigh. And he would be lying to himself if he said the image of her foot propped on his bed while she clipped the holster against her smooth muscular leg didn’t turn him on. It was one he made sure was burned into his memory, one he would be revisiting over and over again.

“That’s quite a grin,” Libby murmured as she slipped out of the truck. He chuckled, placing his palm on the small of her back, leading her toward the bar.

Nate nodded at the big man standing at the door at the same time he felt Libby tense, her footsteps faltering slightly.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned. He looked down then across the street to find out what had made her pause, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“Libby?”

“Mark,” she said, greeting him with a nod.

Nate watched as the big man looked between Libby and himself trying to put the pieces together. “Hey, Nate.” Nate tried to keep the frown from forming between his eyebrows. Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events.

“Hey, Mark.” He narrowed his eyes in question, but the bouncer had already diverted his attention back to Libby. He swallowed the urge to go full caveman, to stake his claim on his woman, to let Mark know who she belonged to. 

“Are you living here now?” Mark asked Libby, oblivious to Nate’s internal struggle.

“No.” She moved to go inside, ending the conversation with one word. Nate and Mark both cocked their heads, watching her disappear through the doors before turning to each other. Just as Nate was about to ask Mark what that was all about, he heard a group of girls approach behind him.

“We’ll talk later,” he murmured. Mark nodded, looking through the door then back at him.

Mark had worked with Savage Security on a number of missions and he was a man Nate trusted with his life. He was an invaluable asset to Savage Security, but Mark was known to do his own thing. He didn’t work for anyone but himself and he and his brothers all knew he took jobs on his own. What they weren’t able to figure out was who or what mission he was running since he’d been
working
at Pete’s. On paper the big man had a shady past, most of his file was concealed, blacklisted. He was six and a half feet, built like a house and Nate would be surprised if there was an inch of him that wasn’t tattooed. And he’d seen and done things in his extensive past in black ops and contracts for a number of different government agencies across numerous countries that Nate could relate to. There were things that couldn’t be said between them, things they both had to pretend never happened, that were dead and had to remain dead - it was a part of their job, a part of who they were. Mark was a mercenary. He was a man after a paycheck and it didn't matter how many bodies he had to go through to get it. But he also considered Mark an ally, a friend and what the other man did for money was none of his business. Except when it came to his woman.   

Finding Libby at a high booth toward the back, he slipped in across from her, noticing her reserved demeanour. He made sure to keep his eyes on her and not on the undercover’s his brother had placed throughout the restaurant. He knew they were there, he’d recognized each face as soon as he’d walked through the door. He had a sudden distaste in his mouth knowing they were there to watch his woman and she had no idea. He wanted to call it off, to grab Libby and take her somewhere where her every word wouldn’t be analyzed, trying to figure out if there was some hidden meaning behind anything she said. He instinctively knew she couldn’t help them any further. She had no information on the man they were after. She wasn’t a liar, she was one of the most loyal people he had ever met. She kept secrets because she was scared, because her entire life was based on one emotion - fear. His head knew it was necessary for the mission, everything he had done, the lying, the manipulating, it was all for the mission. Just another step to get them closer to one of the most wanted criminals of the century. It was a war against his heart, knowing she’d wrapped herself so tightly around each beat. He’d always done what was necessary for the mission, some good, some not so. Somehow, this was starting to feel like one of the worst. It was inevitable that she would eventually find out the truth and he hated himself knowing he was the one that would ultimately be the one handing her a world of hurt on a silver platter.

“Hey,” he said, reaching across the table, entwining his fingers with hers.

“Hey,” she returned, a forced smile curving her lips.

“So, you know Mark?”

She stared at him, her features indifferent, for a long moment before answering. “No.” He wanted so badly to push her on the subject, but he wanted to have this night between them more. Tugging on her hand he leaned over the table and pressed a heated kiss to her lips. “What was that for?” she asked, surprised.

“Just because I can.”

“Nate!”

He turned to find a familiar grin, one he’d known for most of his life approaching their table. “Hey Pete,” he greeted, slapping him on the shoulder. Pete was Aiden’s oldest friend. He and his sister had been a part of their family ever since their mother died when they were young and his father decided the bottle was more important than his children. When Pete opened his bar, it immediately became their regular watering hole. It was known that if you were looking for a Savage he would be one of two places, their dad’s garage or at Pete’s. To a regular patron, Pete’s was simply a kick ass bar. To Savage Security, Pete’s also served as another home base. Pete’s office was practically impenetrable, a war room and he’d helped them in ways they could never repay. Nate remembered not too long ago how Pete was able to hide his sister in law Brie, from Vasquez, a drug lord from Colombia who was out for Max’s blood. An enemy that was still on the loose running rampant, a thought that didn’t sit well with any of them. Pete and Mark kept Brie safe until they were able to get to her. Pete was just as trained, just as skilled, just as cautious as any of them. He’d spent his younger years serving in the Marine’s with Aiden and they’d pulled him in on a couple of missions. In his words, he loved the adrenaline of the action but he loved his bar more. It didn’t help that he wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. Working at the bar, Pete’s nights were never lonely.

“And hell-o gorgeous.” He took Libby’s fingers in his, kissing the top of her hand.

“Alright,” Nate protested, trying to conceal the possessive growl in his voice.

Turning his back to Nate, ignoring, rather prodding his annoyance, he leaned against the table and continued his introduction. “I’m Pete.”

“Libby,” she returned with a silent giggle. Nate didn’t have to see his face to know the bastard had the full charming grin and wink game in full effect.

“I’ll have a beer, Pete. Libby?”

“Bourbon, neat, please.”

“Actually that sounds good, make that two.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Pete said, making a show of placing his hand on his chest. “Maybe after a few drinks she’ll come to her senses and join the cute bartender for a drink.”

“And where could I find him?” Libby asked, her face masked in serious curiosity. Nate threw his head back laughing hearing Pete do the same.

“I like her, man. She’s a keeper.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Nate said, sending a wink across the table.

“I’ll be back with your drinks.” With another chuckle and shake of his head, Pete retreated behind the bar. Nate sat smiling at the woman sitting across from him, his emotions in turmoil knowing he was going to have to pull off a miracle to keep her from running.

“Tell me what I can do to make you stay.”

“Nate, I can’t do that,” she whispered. “I’m not going to do that to you.”

“Do what?” he insisted. He could see the storm of emotions in the slight moment of vulnerability she allowed through. He wanted to tell her she didn’t have to run, that he would keep her safe. He knew she was running because she thought that was what she needed to do. It was the only way she knew how to protect herself.  

“Nate, please. Can we just have a nice night? I don’t want to do this. Not here,” she pleaded. Her walls were so thick he was running out of ideas on how to penetrate them. He needed her to see, to understand that she didn’t need to keep running. She just needed to tell him the truth. Because a part of him still fought against the idea that she knew nothing. She had to hold information even though all of her actions told him she didn’t. She was too good, too trained to be so ignorant of her father’s moves. He knew, hell, he refused to believe she was still in contact with him, but he had to wonder if this entire time she had been lying to him. Like he had been with her.