Allie closed her word search book and placed it on the bedside table. It was in Spanish, but hell, beggars couldn’t be choosers. When she’d seen it at the store where she’d purchased her medical stuff, she’d snagged it. Engaging her brain kept her mind off her current dangerous situation.
Between her legs was sore, but it was a nice kind of ache. She wasn’t complaining. Cold air tickled her back and she lay down, squirming to get closer to the heat at her front.
King grunted and pulled her closer. She closed her eyes and breathed him into her lungs.
She lay there, quiet and introspective, taking it all in. His bare chest rose and fell steadily under her cheek, the firm skin like heated silk against her.
“You awake?” he asked, and his voice rumbled through her body.
She lifted her head and rested her chin on his breastbone. “I am.”
“How do you feel?”
“Hmmm, I feel pretty damn good, all things considered,” she murmured.
He smiled, that panty-melting smile, and she couldn’t help but smile in return. “Yeah?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? You need me to tell you how good you are?”
He laughed, and the motion almost shook her off his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and his hips rolled up. He was hard. “Nah, you said I was better than fries. That’s enough of an endorsement. Not that the ‘Please’ and ‘So good’ weren’t enough of an indication.”
She bit his pec, and he laughed again. “You were doing your fair share of moaning and groaning, if I remember correctly.”
“Touché,” he whispered. “Why were you crying?”
She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I can’t cry?”
He shook his head, and his eyes glittered in the low light from the lamp. “Obviously you can. I just don’t want you doing it.”
She snorted. “I’m a woman. I reserve the right to cry. Besides, I’ve had a rough few days. Not sure if you remember.”
He palmed her face and rubbed beneath her eye. “I don’t like it when you cry, Allie. You’re too strong for that.”
“Look, McNally—”
He put his thumb over her lips. “King.”
“Look, King, I can cry if I want to,” she said, beginning to push up and off his body.
He locked his legs around hers and refused to let her budge.
“You’ve been through a lot. I get it. But no more tears, Allie. They rip me up.”
She laid her cheek on his chest again, unwilling to look in his eyes when she admitted her weakness. “I only cry when I hurt.”
“Damn, baby,” he said as he shifted until she was on her back with him leaning over her.
“I killed two men, King. Two. I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“It was them or you. I’m personally pretty happy it was them,” he bit out. “If I could raise them from the dead to kill them again, I would.”
His response sent a shiver through her. Her alpha, hear-me-roar male. And when exactly had he become hers?
Silence reigned for several long, comfortable minutes. They hadn’t had this at the house on a hill—the time to relax into each other. She had no idea how long they had now, but she was going to enjoy every moment with him and catalog every word and touch so when he left, as she knew he probably would, she could pull out the memories and keep warm.
“You need to rest,” he said.
She yawned, lending validity to his claim.
He smirked. “I knocked you out with one shot for the rest of the night, didn’t I?”
“You know what I like best about you, McNally?” she asked as she rolled away from him before he anticipated the action. She really had to use the bathroom.
He grunted as he lay back, watching her. “No idea.”
“Me either, but it’s absolutely not your humility,” she said with a groan as she stood.
She made her way to the bathroom, handled her business, took a quick shower, and came back out wrapped in a towel. He was on his stomach, facing the bathroom, asleep. Not asleep like he’d been in Belgrade. She doubted he’d allow himself that luxury again with her around.
Allie covered him with the sheet more for her sanity than his comfort. The man had a delectable ass—taut, muscled, and just mouthwatering. Her stomach rumbled, and she followed her nose to the table where he’d set out the food.
Cold burger and fries, but it was one of the best meals she’d ever had. Apparently, great sex made everything better. She gazed out over the city of Bilbao, Spain, and wondered what their next move would be.
She wanted to go home. She wanted King to go with her. It was bizarre how quickly she’d grown attached to the man. But it wasn’t something she was going to question. Not right now.
She towel-dried her hair and got lost in her thoughts.
King shifted on the bed, and she heard him get up and pad over to her. He took the seat across from her and, butt-assed naked, began to dig into a burger. The fries, he left alone.
“We’ll have to move soon. Within the next few hours. You need to grab some sleep because I need you alert and ready to move, Allie,” he said between bites.
“Where are we going?”
He eyeballed her, and though his face was completely blank, she knew what he was thinking.
“I’m taking you home.”
“And then what?” she asked. She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice.
His brows lowered. “What do you mean?”
“What happens then?”
“Then I go back to my business, and you go back to being safe.”
She jumped in. “What about us?”
He grimaced, and her heart sank. “What about us?”
“Seriously? That’s all you’ve got, McNally?” She bit out her question.
“There can’t be an ‘us’ if you aren’t alive,” he returned in a hard voice.
“So you want there to be an ‘us’?” She didn’t care much for this vulnerability.
“I want you safe” was his response.
“Again, didn’t have you pegged as a coward. Since you’re such a wimp, I’ll step out on the limb. I’ve never been much for hiding from the truth anyway. What happened in the house on a hill? What just happened there?” She pointed to the bed for emphasis. “Made me want more. Not just of your body, but you. You’ve got the goods, McNally, and I’ve seen your heart now. You might think you can hide it, but I’ve touched it, tasted it in your kiss. You want me safe, but I have a sneaky suspicion neither you nor I will feel that way unless you’re with me.”
“Don’t—”
She held up her hand, cutting him off. “Just tell me you feel it.”
He met her gaze, the hard green of his eyes shredding her.
“Tell me, McNally. Give me something,” she pleaded.
“I feel it. But it doesn’t matter. What does matter,” he said bitterly, “is that you’re safe.”
For some crazy reason, she wanted to refute that. She didn’t want safe. Okay, she did. But what she really wanted was King.
Insanity. She was a lightweight at running from the baddies. She should be jumping for joy that he was taking her someplace safe. Instead, she went cold at the thought.
“Thank you,” she responded inanely. “Now, what’s the plan?”
“This is a mess. Savidge is a dog with a bone. I need you someplace safe so I can get to him before he gets to you.” King threw his napkin down and ran a hand over his head. She noticed he did that when he was frustrated. He had tells and probably wouldn’t be happy to know she knew them. “I’m going to get you home, Allie. I don’t want to play Fifty Questions while we do it, okay?”
She gave in to her brewing anger. It didn’t help that her insecurities made the frustration worse. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this anyway.”
His face blanked. A shiver raced up her spine. “I know you might want to find some refuge in that statement, but the truth is, you were in play long before I came looking for you on that plane in Cameroon.”
She knew that. Ella had told her as much yesterday. Didn’t help rationalize her anger toward King at all. He was going to leave her at her father’s and probably not return. Ever.
“You said you didn’t want to play games, Allie. I’m getting you home so you’re off the board. Out of the field of play,” he said as he stalked to the bathroom.
Allie remained silent, keeping her gaze averted. If she watched his fabulous ass as he left the room, she’d drool and it would ruin her mad. She needed to stay mad.
He showered quickly, coming back into the room and dressing almost silently. The jeans he now wore molded to his thighs and ass but hung low on his hips. The black T-shirt he pulled on saved her life. Her eyes glued to his chest ruined any hope of holding on to the flickering flame of her anger. She was reminded of how a little less than a week ago he’d pulled on another T-shirt in Cameroon. Then he’d walked to her and pulled her in to him, using his body to chase away the cold.
“You gonna get dressed or fight me on that too?”
“You don’t understand,” she said as she stood, feeling the rage bubble to the surface. “This is who you are—the games, the running, the shooting, the killing! It’s not who I am. I stay far away from my father because I hate what he is. I hate who I have to be when I’m with him,” she said bitterly.
He stilled, and the air in the room seemed to cool. “And what is that?”
“Dead on the inside. You asked me why I was crying earlier. It’s because I have a heart, damn it. So you want to know if I’ll fight you anymore… The answer is no,” she bit out as she pushed past him, grabbing the clothes he’d placed on the bed for her and stepping into the bathroom.
The door was almost closed when she heard him take a deep breath. “I’m not dead on the inside,” he said so quietly she wondered if she’d imagined it.
She placed her forehead on her side of the door and sighed. “I know. And that’s why I won’t fight you. Whatever you tell me to do, I will.”
Then she closed the door and dressed, braiding her hair and brushing her teeth. She opened the bathroom door ready for anything, but unprepared to find Harrison Black and another man she’d never seen before in the room with them. King was closest to her, and his head rose as she walked out.
She fought panic, biting her bottom lip to hold in any words that might valiantly try to pass. She wouldn’t do this—fall apart in front of these men she barely knew. Not King or the other two silent sentinels who looked at her as though they were dissecting her soul.
King’s green gaze locked on hers, holding her tight. He had to recognize her struggle.
“Allie, you remember Black. This is Jonah Knight,” King informed her, pointing at the smaller of the two. And by small she meant that Black had maybe twenty pounds on the new guy.
Jonah Knight was scary. Where Black was light, Jonah was darkness. Though shorter than Black by maybe two inches, his face would have been classically beautiful, were it not for the large scar splitting his left cheek. He had pitch-black hair and a devil’s look in his blue-gray eyes. Trouble, those eyes screamed. Then a smile bisected his face, easing the hold the scar had as a look of mischief appeared in his eyes. Beauty came in all forms, and Jonah Knight had been blessed.
She nodded, still fighting to maintain her silence. She didn’t know what the hell would come out if she opened her mouth.
“Ms. Redding, it’s a pleasure. Don’t mind His Highness. He gets a bit uptight sometimes,” Knight said as he inclined his head.
She snorted, surprised at the old-world charm Knight brought to his words. “I can safely say I’ve noticed.”
King groaned, cutting her off. “Not again.” She cut her eyes at him and scowled. He shrugged, but a smile played about his lips.
Harrison Black looked askance at Knight. “Did he just smile?”
Knight rolled his eyes. “I guess?”
“I didn’t think he knew how,” Black said.
Then it was back to awkward silence. Allie’s mouth literally itched to speak, ask questions, sing a song. Anything to break it up.
“We’re going to help get you home, ma’am,” Knight said, his intent in his voice.
Allie waited for Black to mention Serbia. He didn’t. “Well, then, that’s nice,” she said finally. “Just so you know, I could probably get myself home with no problems. In fact, I didn’t really have any issues until McNally here came on board.”
Neither man knew what to say, their shock conveyed by the looks they leveled at King. His gaze slid to her and narrowed. He was getting frustrated.
“What happened to you won’t fight me?” he asked in a low tone. It was his don’t-fuck-with-me-on-this tone. Similar to his we-ain’t-moving-’til-you-answer-me tone but equally as somber and dire as his do-what-I-say-and-you’ll-live tone.
She wasn’t swayed by any of them at the moment. Yes, she needed help getting home, but that didn’t mean she had to love the fact. “I’m not fighting you, McNally,” she said with a slow smile.
His gaze narrowed even further, and everything that had happened between them last night was in the air. “Looks like it. Sounds like it. Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it must Allie.”
She clapped her hands and laughed. “Clever, McNally. A duck I am then. But this duck is going home, and though she’ll have help, she wants you to know she isn’t all that happy about it. I don’t want anyone hurt because of me.”
He was within inches of her a second later. He moved like water—silent and fluid. Over his shoulder, she saw the other two men step to the door and leave.
“When I saw you on the plane, I think I knew what you could be to me,” he said after a long, pregnant moment. “I knew you were dangerous. To me. But I had no choice, because once that bastard hit you, there was no way anyone else was going to. Not on my watch. Then you were shot, and goddamn but you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met. It’s in everything you do and say. I want that, Allie. Even though you deserve better than me, I want you.”
She had no words. Surely she hadn’t known him long enough to fall in love. Yet it had happened. And he might not love her as she defined it, but his desire to hold her, to keep her safe, told Allie everything.
“I don’t know that there are any better men than you, Kingston McNally,” she said softly. She lifted her hands, wound them in his hair, and pulled him the scant inches she needed to take his mouth.
He pulled back, stepping away before she could see her intention through, and ran a hand through his hair. “We have a flight to catch,” he said, and his voice was tortured.
He turned then and walked to the door, opening it and murmuring to the men outside. He walked back in the room and handed her his duffel. It was much lighter than she remembered.
“We’re leaving on a private flight from the local airport. You’ll be in Little Creek, Virginia, before the sun sets tonight. Knight and Black are accompanying you to your father’s house.” He gave her the itinerary in rapid-fire succession.
She held back the tears that threatened. Nowhere on that list of things she was about to do was anything related to King’s next move. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
He was hurting her, and for a second, fear warred with the burgeoning love. He was a protector. It was what he did.
She glanced up, aware she’d been having an internal struggle for a while. His face was hard. He was shut down.
“Thank you, King,” she managed to stammer out. “Thank you for everything.” She wasn’t going to make it harder for him. Not yet. Once they were on American soil though, all bets were off.
He stroked a finger down her cheek. “I’ll keep you safe, baby,” he said in that oceans-deep voice.
She nodded, and he turned away. Then he led Knight and Black back in. They spoke in low tones until King took her arm and they left the room. The men ushered her out of the hotel to a blacked-out SUV. None of them said a word. Black drove, and Knight sat in the back with Allie and King watching out the windows, no doubt making sure she “stayed safe.”
It was too damn quiet.
“How long have you known King?” she asked them.
King glanced at her, confusion on his face.
Knight and Black gave her silence.
“Really? Interesting. I’ve known him almost five full days,” she said into their absence of a reply. “So, um, you guys part of Endgame?”
Knight glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. Black kept his gaze on the road. She’d get nothing from them, not that she’d expected it.
“You know my father?”
Still nothing.
“You guys are getting on my nerves,” she told them.
“We’re here,” Black said, and relief abounded in his tone.
She almost laughed. It hadn’t taken long, only twenty minutes, to reach the airport. Black pulled into a secured lot, showed some type of identification, and was motioned to the private hangars.
They parked at a hangar, and Allie saw the plane they were taking. Another sleek Jetstream that spoke of money. Knight grabbed the duffel. King helped her out of the SUV and then took her right side while Black took her left. Before she could even breathe heavily, she was in the private jet, seated in a sumptuous leather seat, buckled up, and waiting for takeoff.
Allie leaned her head back, feeling like everything was moving along just a bit too easily. And then she heard a dull thud and a sound she’d heard enough of the last few days to last her entire lifetime.
Gunshots.
Not again, she thought as she unbuckled her seat belt. It had all started on a plane, hadn’t it? She was beginning to hate this form of transportation.
Knight was there then, hurrying toward her as King headed to the front of the plane.
“Back of the plane, Ms. Redding,” he said firmly.
She stood, and he handed her a gun similar to what King had—a SIG Sauer, if she remembered correctly. “Who is it?” she asked.
“Savidge,” he bit out.
“He’s breached the tarmac, Knight. Get her gone!” Black’s accented voice yelled. “I’ll hold him off. King is taking lead.”
“Get to the back, Ms. Redding,” Knight said again.
She moved. The aircraft was being peppered with shots. She heard them bouncing off.
“Get in here,” Knight said as he opened a door and pushed her into a tiny closet. “Stay here until I come for you.”
She nodded, fear pushing under the skin and making her sweat. She was sick of this.
“Be safe, Knight,” she whispered.
He stopped and cocked his head. Surprise flared in his eyes, but then he gave her a smile. “I will, Ms. Redding.” He closed the door.
Allie sat down on the floor of the closet, her SIG Sauer ready. She tried to hear what was happening, but everything had gone dead silent.
There was a flurry of gunshots, then she heard Black yell that King was down. She heard Knight yelling, and then silence.
Her heart stopped. King was down. Oh God! What did that mean? Her skin prickled, and her mouth dried.
“Come out, Ms. Redding,” an unknown man said.
Allie didn’t move. This wasn’t good at all.
“Don’t make me hunt you, Ms. Redding. McNally and his men will pay the price,” the man said. He had a nasally voice and a decidedly Serbian-sounding accent.
Was this Savidge? One of his goons?
A single gunshot report, and Allie jumped as a sound of pain came through the door. Black. He’d shot Black.
Allie stood then, opening the door and holding her gun out in front of her, ready for anything.
“Drop the gun, Ms. Redding,” the man said from behind her.
“No,” she responded.
Another shot and then silence. No more cries of pain, just nothing.
“Drop the gun, Allison Redding, and I’ll let them live,” he said.
She saw Black and Knight each on the floor of the plane, bleeding from their wounds, gazes pinned on her. Why hadn’t he simply killed King’s men? What was the point in not eliminating your enemies? There was something bigger at play here.
In the depths of their eyes, she saw acceptance but also apologies. Where was King? She shook her head. “Not your fault,” she murmured.
“Drop the gun,” he said again.
“You’re a broken record. I’m not dropping the gun, not for you or anyone else,” she said firmly.
It was bravado, and the smile the handsome, dark-haired man gave her was his acknowledgment that that was all it was. He turned calmly, casually, and shot Harrison Black in the leg. Black groaned, Knight winced, and Allie screamed.
She dropped the gun.
“Good girl,” the man said, and he strode down the aisle to her, several large, thuggish-looking men behind him. “My name is Vasily Savidge. I have been looking for you, Allie Redding, indeed, waiting for you.”
Allie’s gaze was glued on Black’s pale face. His eyes were closed now, and her heart wept. King had been right. She’d never have been able to handle getting home on her own. This man, this Vasily Savidge, was a monster. Monsters never stopped coming.
And he’d hurt King. King was down. Where was he?
Rage sifted through her fear, feathering along her mind and settling into her gut. These men had been hurt protecting her. And the monster responsible stood in front of her.
“Look at me,” Savidge demanded.
She turned and did as she was instructed.
“You’re hurt?” he asked.
Allie tried to process his words, but all she could see was the blood on Knight and Black. All she could hear were the gunshots and Black yelling, “King’s down!”
“I asked you a question,” Savidge demanded.
“No,” she murmured.
“Good. That’s good then. Come along. We’ve much to discuss,” he said. His voice was filled with delight.
She hated him.
He started down the aisle, but Allie remained where she was.
“Go with him, Miss Redding,” Knight mouthed. “We’ll find you.”
She saw him, she did, but rage had her now. From the muffled quiet of her shock, red flames emerged burning bright and hot. She reached down and picked up her SIG Sauer, cocked it and coughed to cover the sound. Her cough must have alerted Savidge that she wasn’t following because he turned.
Allie was between him and King’s men, and that was as it should be. To save them, she’d have to play this just right. She tucked the gun behind her back and began moving down the aisle to meet Savidge.
When he was within a foot of her, she sat down in a seat and tugged on his coat, pulling him off-balance. This left him sprawled on top of her. He tried to push off her, muttering an apology, but she had a firm grip on his coat.
She pressed the barrel of the SIG against his ribs and smiled. “They leave here right now, without being harmed any further, or I put a bullet into your side and follow it with one to the brain. You know who I am, Savidge. You know my daddy trained me. If you believe nothing else, believe I will kill you even if it means the rest of us go straight to hell with you.”
His eyes widened, and the sick fucker grinned. “You’re a strong one. I’ll enjoy breaking you and sending you home in pieces to your father. Tell me, are these two men worth your life?”
Only two? Was King dead then?
“Yes.” Unequivocal. Absolute. They were King’s men; they were worth that and more.
“Holland?” Savidge called out. “Let our guests leave unmolested.”
Her grip on the gun tightened.
“Sir?” his man questioned.
Allie pressed the gun harder into Savidge’s ribs. He swore bitterly. Oh, she was pissing him off.
“Do what I said, Holland. Now!” Savidge’s gaze pinned her. “You will owe me more than I think you’re willing to pay, Allie Redding.”
“Stand up slowly, Savidge,” she instructed him and then used her hold on his jacket to follow him, never relinquishing her grip on the gun or its position against his ribs. “Now throw your other weapon on the ground.”
“Don’t do this, Allie,” Knight said in a tortured voice.
“No choice, Mr. Knight. Now, please take Mr. Black and be gone,” she urged.
Knight grabbed Black, hauled the big man over his uninjured shoulder, and began down the aisle off the plane.
“We’re going to watch, Savidge. We’re going to watch as they get in the car and leave, and once they’re gone, we’ll renegotiate,” she said to him.
He remained silent, eyes burning with sickening lust and a need for vengeance.
Allie’s gaze scoured the tarmac and found King being held up between two of Savidge’s goons. His face was bloody, and it looked like he’d been shot in the shoulder.
Savidge leaned over her and sniffed her neck, running his nose over and up until he reached her ear. “I won’t kill him this time. Dresden wants him alive so he’ll chase us. The fun is in the chase.”
Her breath hitched.
Several of Savidge’s men lay fallen, blood soaking the concrete beneath them. Knight looked back once, and Allie nodded at him. The two goons released King but held a gun on him the entire time. His eyes met Allie’s, and she could read the torture in their depths. She pleaded wordlessly with him to be safe. Savidge’s men followed King to the SUV they’d arrived in and continued to hold their weapons on King, Black, and Knight as they pulled away, taking Allie’s heart with them.
Allie stepped around quickly, which left her at Savidge’s back with her gun still digging into his side. He’d been unprepared for her move.
“Well done, Allie. Your father did an excellent job with you,” he said.
That wasn’t true at all. She’d had bare-bones training. This had been nothing but quick thinking and luck. “Walk down the stairs to the tarmac,” Allie commanded Savidge.
He did and, when they were at the bottom in the open area by the plane, his remaining men surrounded them. Savidge held up his hand, and they backed off. Before she could blink, he turned full circle, his elbow clipping her jaw and knocking her to the ground.
Her hold on her gun was lost, and it skittered to the concrete. Savidge was on her then, lifting her by the T-shirt. His face was mottled with rage, spit flying as he pulled her closer.
“You held a gun on me!” Then he slapped her. Once, twice, over and over until her ears rang and her eyes grew heavy.
He tossed her to the ground, and she crumpled at his feet. His shadow fell over her. She drew her arms and legs in, preparing for anything, but he just laughed as he straightened his coat.
“Get up,” he demanded. “Get up right now, or I’ll kill you.”
The truth was in his words, though he wouldn’t kill her before he had his fun.
He must have grown sick of her taking so long because he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up himself. She cried out. Her jaw hurt, and her eyes were swelling shut, both of them.
“More than you’re willing to pay, eh, bitch?” he reminded her.
She laughed then. It startled even her. Nothing about any of this was funny, but the sound continued to roll out of her. She had to be the butt of the universe’s cosmic joke. She was heaving in his arms, laughing maniacally, and every man, including Savidge stepped back.
“She’s touched,” one man whispered.
“Crazy,” another said.
“Sir,” one man called out, “he is on the phone.”
Who was? Allie wondered.
Savidge took the phone, and Allie went cold. The fact that he had the phone on speaker allowed her to hear everything.
She’d heard that voice before.
“Yes, yes. I hear you. I’ll have my fun and ship her home to you then,” Savidge said gleefully.
If Allie lived a hundred years, she’d never forget that voice. It was the same one the terrorist on the plane in Cameroon had been speaking to. The very same. She’d bet her life on it.
This thought triggered another round of laughter. Bet her life? She was playing the game after all, wasn’t she?
“Shut up,” Savidge yelled. To his men he ordered, “Bring her.”
Then he turned and walked to a waiting vehicle. Two men stepped up and grabbed Allie under her arms, lifting her and ultimately dragging her to another vehicle. They pushed her into the car, and she curled into a ball, hugging herself close and wondering what the hell would happen next until her mind began to blank.
Hold on, Allie, she told herself. Just hold on. King was gone, but he’d come for her. She had no doubts. She’d survive this and be waiting for him.