Live Wire

chapter 16




Jordan was waiting on her as she left the bathroom, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his blue eyes narrowed as he stared back at her silently.

It would be impossible to miss the fact that she had been sick.

She’d washed her face, but she knew what it looked like. It was incredibly pale, her eyes appeared too large, her lips too stressed.

And he was taking in every inch of her face, her expression, whatever he saw in her eyes.

“You’re not okay.”

Duh. She’d just finished puking her guts up while escaping.

Thank God he had changed shirts and cleaned his blood up, but there was still a smear of red at his hairline. The sight of it had her stomach turning, as memories raped her mind.

“I’m fine now,” she assured him, giving a brief shrug as she moved to pass him.

He caught her again. His fingers curled around her upper arm as her breath caught in her chest, and tears clogged her throat. The past was too close. There had been too many times that she had seen the results of Sorrel’s horror. The pictures he had sent her. See what you caused, baby girl? Come home to Daddy so he doesn’t have to hurt anyone else.

Sorrel had played with her. Just as someone was trying to play with her now. Who? He’d had no partners other than her brother.

“Tey?” His voice was a dark croon as his head lowered, his hand smoothing to her hip, fingers burning through the thin material of the short T-shirt dress she had changed into.

Her eyes closed as his lips pressed to the bared curve of her shoulder and he pulled the material to her side. When he placed her head against his opposite shoulder, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

She could feel the warmth of him against her, his hand stroking up her back, then returning to her hips. The sheer gentleness, the tension of banked hunger, the need she could feel, unspoken and louder than words, surrounded her.

“Take me with you.”

The plea escaped her lips before she could pull them back. She was terrified to let him out of her sight now. The panic building inside her threatened to send her running back to the bathroom.

She had spent so many years knowing each time she was separated from whoever attempted to protect her, they died. They were tortured, left lifeless after hours of pain.

“Tey,” he whispered her name again, his fingers tightening on her hips once again. “Play your part, sweetheart. John, Travis, Bailey, and Lilly are going to rush you to the senator’s as the others carry me out. I’ll be there soon.”

He moved to pull back.

“No, not yet.” Her hands tightened on his shoulders, the need to hold him in place overwhelming now. “Listen to me, Jordan. Every time. Every time they left me and thought I was protected, they were killed.” A sob escaped her lips. “You know they were. They were tortured.…”

It was all she could see. Jordan, his expression twisted in agony because he hadn’t talked. Jordan wouldn’t talk. He’d never tell anyone where she was if she were hidden. And they would ensure he died in agony.

“I’ve got this, baby.” As he lifted his head, his hand rose and cupped her cheek, his gaze locked with hers.

This wasn’t the man she had worked with. If she had dared express concern or fear for his life then, the ice that was so much a part of him would have kicked in.

It didn’t this time.

His gaze actually softened, his lips quirked in tender amusement, but in his expression she saw his refusal to do as she asked.

“I’ve got this,” he repeated, his lips touching hers, brushing against them. “When we’re finished here, it’s going to be over, and you’re going to be safe. I won’t have it any other way.”

She had to clench her teeth against the urge to beg. This expression she knew. There was no changing his mind, and John, Travis, and their wives would ensure she was where she was supposed to be.

“Noah has my back,” he promised her. “Nik and Micah have his. I’ll slip into the senator’s estate tonight, as soon as we’re finished.”

She tried to shake her head, tried to speak. His hand tightened on her jaw, his lips covered hers, and the kiss he gave her rocked her to the soles of her feet.

His lips rubbed against hers, stroked, and sent heat flushing through her system in a slow burn that, at first, seemed harmless enough.

The heat rose slowly, enveloping her, flowing into her blood and spiking it with a hunger she couldn’t deny, or hide.

Her arms curled around his neck, her fingers feathering into the back of his hair as a moan whispered past her lips, and the need to hold on to him began to grow inside her.

She felt the hunger beginning to infuse both of them, his body tensing, his cock pressing more firmly against the juncture of her thighs as his hand slid up her leg.

His fingers played with the hem of the short dress, feathering against her thighs with a rasp of heat. She wanted to feel them moving beneath the dress. Her thighs parted further, a desperate moan in her throat as she arched against him.

One second she was in his arms, the next he was pushing away from her, his lips pulling away reluctantly.

“No.” She fought to hold on to him, only to be left staring up at him, trembling with fear and need.

“John, Travis, and their wives are waiting on the other side of the suite. Once we’re clear of the hotel and in position, they’ll get you to the limo waiting outside.”

She gave a hard nod.

“Our friends in the other suite are awake,” he told her. “Once you’re out, staff will come in and release them, aware of only the fact that we’ve checked out. We’ll follow them from there.”

She nodded again.

It was bad enough her nerves were back enough that she had begun throwing up again. She hadn’t done that since the night before the operation to reveal the identity of Sorrel. The night before she had killed him.

“Come on, baby.” Catching her fingers, he moved for the door. “Let’s get this done.”

* * *

Letting her go was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Jordan watched as the team surrounded Tehya and rushed her from the back entrance of the hotel to the limo the senator had sent to collect her.

He couldn’t forget the look in her eyes. The fear had been so deep, so dark, he’d wanted nothing but to give her exactly what she wanted. To find a way to bring her with him.

Bringing her with him would have compromised the entire plan. They needed her safe, but they also needed her escape witnessed by the man Jordan was currently watching as well.

He’d figured the men that had come inside weren’t alone.

“Lilly called as they were hitting the doors,” Noah said as they watched the black Suburban from the cargo van they’d driven to the surveillance position. “She said Tehya was crying.”

“Enough.” The order was short, but not as icy as it could have been, because the thought of her crying affected him in ways he didn’t want to look too deeply into.

“She’s a friend,” Micah spoke from behind him. “Having her safe and secure is all well and good, but leaving her without a future because her heart was ripped out wasn’t in the plan when you told us what was going on.”

Jordan could feel his teeth gritting as he turned to Nik where he sat in the driver’s seat. “Where’s your two cents?”

Nik’s expression didn’t change as he continued to watch the other vehicle and the driver in it. “Inflation sucks,” he drawled. “The price is a buck fifty now.”

Trust Nik to be the smart-ass in the group.

Propping his arm on the side of the door, Jordan rubbed the skin above his upper lip thoughtfully.

“Have you managed to ID him yet?” he finally asked the others. It was better to change the subject rather than continuing the course of the subject of Tehya.

“I have him,” Noah said. “Another of those damned Sorrel soldiers turned mercenaries after his death. Wayne Trevits, former MI-6 agent discharged for theft and attempted sale of military weapons. He was sentenced to life in prison, but escaped after a year. He was with Sorrel for ten years before the op that took Sorrel out. It looks like Sorrel’s boys have decided to go after a little vengeance.”

That was definitely what it looked like, Jordan admitted.

It had all the signs of a group of Sorrel’s former employees banding together to make Tehya pay for his death. Everything they had found led them in that direction.

“Maid’s in the room,” Micah announced, obviously watching the laptop displaying the room. “Ahh, there she is. Little old lady with gray hair and big brown eyes,” he grunted. “And she’s not moving to let them go.”

Jordan waited.

“Ah, there she goes. She just pulled the radio from her pocket. She’s calling security.”

Jordan was prepared for that. He’d checked the staff out while they were there and reread the files once the plan was in place, to see who would be walking in on the little party Jordan had arranged.

He hadn’t wanted anyone to get hurt, but he’d been certain this maid would choose the option of calling security versus releasing them on their own.

“And we now have two little weak-kneed security guards entering. They’ll make mincemeat out of them.”

It took only minutes.

“Yep, they’re both down,” Micah sighed. “They’re alive, though.”

“They’re aware of the cameras in the hall outside the room,” Jordan stated. “There’s too great a chance of being identified.”

“They’re headed downstairs.”

Jordan and his men moved.

Exiting the back of the van, covert mode intact, Jordan, Nik, Micah, and Noah moved to the appropriate, nondescript vehicles waiting in the parking lot.

Sliding into the Ford sedan, Jordan watched from above the rim of his dark sunglasses as the two men slipped from the same exit Tehya had used and moved quickly to the waiting SUV.

The assassins looked a little worse for wear, but satisfied. They thought they had achieved their objective. His would-be killers believed he was dead, and Tehya defended only by his men.

Evidently they weren’t convinced of the danger posed by the men they would be facing. To this point, Jordan and his men had been playing, sitting back and letting Tehya’s enemies hang themselves. Now, he thought he might help them just a bit with the rope.

The bastards had terrified her, and they had been aware of it. They had known what it would do to her. The plan would have been to take her while she was shell-shocked, while the realization of Jordan’s death was still fresh in her mind.

She would have been more controllable and much easier to intimidate.

That would have been the plan. Unfortunately for them, it wouldn’t have worked so easily for them. He knew Tehya; and even more, he knew Tehya under pressure. His death would have destroyed her, but later. That shock they wanted so desperately would have been what had saved her life, and would have ended theirs.

As the SUV pulled from the parking lot, Jordan turned the receiver on in the sedan and smiled at the movement of the little dot indicating the tracker they had activated. The other assassin’s bug hadn’t yet been activated. He was the backup. The safeguard. Just in case.

There was a reason he had plans A, B, C, and D, with E, F, and G just in case. Sometimes, there were just too many bases to cover. And Jordan liked having all the angles worked out.

Work out the angles and you don’t just protect yourself and your men, but you also protect the woman you had never been able to get out of your head and your heart.

He’d met Tehya eight years before, the night she had killed her father. From the moment he’d looked into those shattered, emerald green eyes, he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and protect her from the world.

Unfortunately, it was too late to protect her by then. The world had already scarred her. Sorrel had already taught her to react first and grieve later.

And she would have grieved for him, he knew.

His men would have surrounded her long enough to attempt to convince her to hide, because it was what he wanted. She wouldn’t have hid.

As he and Micah traded positions and the other men moved in behind the SUV in another vehicle, Jordan concentrated on the area around them. He made certain no one was following them as they followed their attempted assassins.

They traded places several more times before Jordan pulled into a parking lot across from a storage rental facility housed in an old factory. The units, Jordan knew, were temperature controlled, roomy, and free of those pesky surveillance cameras that turned most criminals off.

Slipping from the car, he joined Micah and Nik, and Noah gave them a quick nod toward the warehouse. Using the available delivery vans, trucks, and occasional stacks of varied covered prepared shipments for cover, they moved into the warehouse following the beacon the tracker was giving off.

Minutes later, they eased in as close as possible, coming in together, weapons drawn as they moved in to watch the meeting.

The three men were waiting outside one of the rental rooms, heads down, leaning against the wall as shadows moved in the well-lit unit they were guarding.

They were talking, their voices too low to hear, and the satisfied demeanors of earlier had been dropped. They looked nervous and if he wasn’t mistaken, quite possibly scared as well.

He’d read the dossiers on these men, and he wouldn’t have believed anything could make them nervous, let alone have them looking like three teenagers preparing to face a disciplinarian.

As they waited silently, the shadows in the rental unit began to slow, and long minutes later another man stepped into view.

Gregor Ascarti.

Dressed in his trademark silk suit, his blond hair perfectly combed back, but with a limp Jordan didn’t remember from that last operation against Sorrel that had reportedly taken Ascarti out as well.

Gregor Ascarti had been Sorrel’s right-hand man after his son. He had been the logistical expert who had been damned near impossible to defeat.

And now he was back.

Somehow, the bastard had managed to not just survive, but apparently to live and thrive for the past eight years completely under the radar.

He moved slowly, the limp obviously hindering his movements, as Mark Tenneyson and Ira Arthurs, the mercenaries who had been watching the Taites, exited the rental unit behind him. Ascarti stopped directly in front of John Frackle.

Before anyone could guess what he would do, his hand came back and a strong, heavy blow was delivered against the other man’s face. Frackle was flung back against the wall, but surprisingly, considering his reputation, he didn’t attempt to strike back.

Jordan saw the struggle in Frackle’s face though, the tightening of his fingers as he made an effort not to make a fist.

Jordan strained to hear the conversation, but all he heard were angry murmurs. The combination of their automatic habit of keeping their voices low and the distance from the other men made the conversation impossible to decipher.

One thing was certain, though: Ascarti wasn’t pleased. The fact that the men hadn’t arrived with Tehya was likely the reason for Ascarti’s displeasure.

Hell, he wished he could get f*cking closer. If he could just hear what they were planning.

He wasn’t aware how tense he was, how closely he was checking out the surrounding cover, until he felt Noah’s hand on his shoulder in warning.

A tight grimace pulled at his face as he gave a quick nod, an affirmation that he understood the grip.

As Jordan continued to watch, Ascarti moved closer to Frackle, almost nose to nose, his finger poking in the other man’s chest, though his voice never rose.

That was a conversation Jordan would give damned near anything to hear at this point. Though he was fairly certain he knew the gist of it.

They had returned without Tehya, and Ascarti wanted Tehya.

As Jordan had thought earlier, it had all the earmarks of a revenge strike.

But as he watched, eyes narrowed, events sifting through his mind, he couldn’t help but suspect there was something more going on than simple revenge.

These men weren’t having a love affair with Sorrel’s memory. If Tehya happened to have dropped in their paths, then they would have struck out at her. But to still be searching for her after her disappearance?

It didn’t make sense.

Suddenly, Ascarti moved again, the hand holding his weapon moving, the metal smacking into Frackle’s face and knocking him to the ground. In the next breath Ascarti had his gun beneath Fillipini’s chin, pushing it high and tight.

“F*cking stupid…” His accent was thick and dark with fury, the violence in his tone causing Jordan’s brows to lift.

The voice lowered just enough now that only the tone could be heard.

Ascarti stepped back, watching as Frackle came slowly back to his feet, stumbling slightly as he braced himself against the wall.

“Imbecile. The next time, you … will…” The threat was clear as the muzzle of the weapon went beneath Frackle’s jaw, lifting it as Ascarti leaned closer to finish the sentence.

With a final slap against the side of the other man’s face, Ascarti stepped back, straightened his silk jacket, then turned around to face the mercenaries behind him.

The dim fluorescent lights above hit his face at just the right angle, giving Jordan a first, clear look at the other man’s face.

His brows lifted.

The left side of Gregor Ascarti’s face was horrendously disfigured. Scars marred the entire side of his face, twisting around his eye, giving his profile a grotesque appearance.

Jordan slipped farther back into the shadows as the Italian former smuggler moved with far less grace than he had in Aruba.

There was a limp to his right leg, an odd angle in the shape of his left hand as he walked away. Frackle and Fillipini followed him as Tenneyson and Arthur locked up and reset the alarm to the unit before moving quickly to catch up with the others.

The explosion that had targeted Ascarti had apparently not done enough damage. He was clearly as organized and just as dangerous as he had been while Sorrel was still alive.

Giving Micah a careful hand signal, he sent the other man, along with Noah, to make certain Ascarti and his mercenaries were out of the unit.

It took long minutes for the rental storage facility to become deserted except for Jordan and Nik, allowing them a chance to slip from the shadowed area where the team had hidden.

Slipping a small leather case from the pack he carried on his back, Jordan quickly picked the heavy lock one of the Ascarti’s mercenaries had secured before leaving, while Nik worked to disable the security inside.

It was apparent that Ascarti had no reason to suspect that Frackle and his partner had led Jordan and his team straight to them. Of course, why should he; they believed Jordan was dead.

As the heavy lock released, Jordan slid it free before slowly easing the door open, sliding the penlight from his pocket and stepping inside.

“Well, well, well,” he muttered as he surveyed the contents of the unit before turning back to Nik, who had positioned himself protectively at the entrance.

The other man’s pale, icy blue eyes narrowed as his expression tightened in lines of savage fury.

“What does the bastard have planned?” Nik muttered as they each surveyed the array of hidden weapons, ammunition, and surprise, surprise, several dozen handheld rocket launchers.

“I’d have sworn Sorrel was dead,” Nik continued. “But this…” He shook his head slowly as he allowed his gaze to catalog each item there. “God, Jordan, this f*cking makes me wonder.”

“DEA would have a field day over this,” Jordan murmured as he moved to several covered boxes, lifted a crowbar from one, and quietly eased open the lid.

The Russian-made automatic weapons weren’t nearly as interesting as the weapons packed away, though.

A dozen Israeli corner shot automatic rifles were packed in the first box. Replacing the lid, he went to the one beside it. It was packed similarly, guns in the middle with boxes of ammunition packed around them.

Tehya’s weapon of choice.

Easing one of the weapons from the bottom of the box, he carefully arranged the packaging material to hide the theft from a casual check of the inventory before doing likewise with several boxes of ammunition before handing it all to Nik.

He hadn’t heard of the weapons missing, and they weren’t available for street sale. They were strictly military weapons. He knew a certain DEA team commander who would be very interested in this facility and its contents.

It was also the weapon heading Tehya’s “ask for from Santa” list. If possible, he would ensure it was given to her if he wasn’t around later.

The thought had him pausing. As though there was a chance in hell that he was walking away from her. It nearly brought him to a hard stop. There had never been a question before of walking away from a lover. The only question had been how short the time he would be with her before he grew bored.

With Tehya, he couldn’t imagine growing bored. He couldn’t imagine a night, a day, a second of his life that he wouldn’t want her.

He hadn’t changed his mind about the illusion of love. What he had done instead was to convince himself that the illusion could be preserved, if only for a little while.

“We got a problem here, boss,” Nik commented as he stared at the contents of the box. “If Ascarti has these weapons, here in America, then he could be planning more than simply getting his hands on Sorrel’s baby girl.”

Jordan turned an icy look on the other man.

“I was being facetious,” Nik finally growled. “Hell, Jordan. You’re going to have to either put a damned ring on her finger or cut the possessive crap. You can’t protect her forever if you’re going to keep walking away from her.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” Jordan murmured as he turned away and glared back down at the weapons.

“I volunteered it,” Nik assured him.

Hell, there was something to be said for being the commander while they were under contract to the Elite Ops. Now that they were free and clear, they thought it was simply fine to bust his ass whenever they wanted to.

He almost grinned. They had always thought it was perfectly fine to bust his ass every chance they found. Especially after Tehya had arrived at base and taught them exactly how to get away with it.

“Give our contact at the DEA a call,” he ordered Nik. “Give him the information on this rental unit and who it belongs to. Don’t give him the information on the mercenaries just yet. I want to find out what Ascarti wants from Tehya that’s so important he’s hunted her for too many years. Taking everyone out of the game won’t give me those answers.”

There was a long moment of silence behind him before Nik asked, his tone dangerously bland, “Are you setting our girl up, boss?”

His lips quirked, almost in amusement, at the question. He wasn’t the only one protective of her; he was just the one determined to keep her.

“Aren’t you the same man who just expressed his worry for her?” He turned back to Nik. “You can’t have it both ways, Nik. Either I’m too possessive of her, or I’m setting her up.”

Nik’s gaze narrowed then. “One doesn’t necessarily cancel the other out. Setting her up would be damned bad form.”

“Then it’s a damned good thing she’s safe from it,” Jordan snapped, his patience as well as his amusement exhausted with the subject. “Let’s get the hell out of here, then make that phone call.”

Jerking a heavy storage blanket from the corner, he threw it at Nik to cover the weapon he’d slipped from the crate, before turning back and replacing the heavy lid.

Seconds later, the weapon carefully covered, they slipped from the unit, relocked it, replaced the security controls, and made their way from the warehouse.

Noah and Micah were waiting at the entrance, their expressions hard, eyes narrowed and emotionless. Jordan let his gaze meet his nephew’s, seeing in it something he had hoped he wouldn’t see again after the team had disbanded.

“He killed Frackle,” Noah stated, his voice soft as he nodded to the large trash container just outside the door. “Put a bullet in the back of his head, then ordered his friends to toss him in it. Motherf*ckers did it too.” The heavy disgust that edged into his tone reminded Jordan once again that there was a reason his team had always been the best.

Their loyalty to each other. That loyalty had always assured they were watching each other’s backs, just as it had always insured each operation was conducted with not just their success, but also their safety.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jordan muttered as he watched the area outside the entrance. “I want this taken care of, and I want to know what the hell is going on, Noah. Ascarti’s luck is getting ready to run out.”

“Let’s hope Tehya’s isn’t running out along with it,” Nik stated behind him. “Or protecting her will become impossible.”

Jordan’s guts tightened at the thought, but Nik was right. If they didn’t take care of this, and take care of it quickly, then he could lose Tehya in ways he had never imagined before.

To death.