ANOMALY.MIL (The Conspiracy Series Book One): A Romantic Suspence Novel (13 page)

"Very efficient of you," Ansel sneered.

"But I only did it so I could get to you first," Gunner said. Drew's head snapped around so he could look Gunner in the eye.

"Seriously? You had no intention of bringing Ansel in, and you didn't even tell us?"

"That's a dick move, Captain," Win decided.

"I wanted you to have plausible deniability." Gunner was looking at Win, but he said it to everyone. "No need for us all to be court-martialed."

"Well, if we're not taking them in," Drew asked his commander, "then what do you propose we do?"

Gunner looked at Ansel. "You let me call General Hawkins and tell him I have Catherine, and that we’re bringing her in. That gives you approximately six hours to get someplace safe."

"Then what?" Ansel was not sure where Gunner was going with this.

"Then we take some of those zip ties, and drive toward our rendezvous point. Unfortunately for us, 'Ansel ambushed us and took his sister before could get back to the base'."

"As if he could," Win chuckled.

Gunner looked at the large man, adding with a grin, "Sadly, 'you shot Win in the ass, in the process of escaping with your sister'. Then you go with Dr. Huber and figure out why your DNA is so fucking special, while I try to figure out why General Hawkins is so hot and bothered to get his hands on it."

It was a good plan. He looked at his friend. "You've thought about this?"

"Since I got your phone call, two days ago." Gunner stared at him, and he felt a twinge of guilt. "Now, cut these fucking zip ties off. They're hurting my wrists."

Ansel pulled a knife from his pocket, relieved that he hadn't misjudged his friend. But just when he was about to cut the thick plastic, he hesitated.

"What about the rest of you?"

"Killing our own citizens seems rogue to me," Drew said, adding, "and General Hawkins is…one scary motherfucker."

Ansel did not take this observation lightly as it came from a decorated Delta Force Army Operator with over fifty missions under his belt.

"Win?" he looked at the mountain lying prostrate on the couch.

Win Caffrey rolled on his side, away from his injury. "You're a son of bitch, Babineaux." He smirked. "But I don't think you're a traitor. And besides—" He turned dangerous. "—you don't mess with kids."

Satisfied, Ansel cut his friends loose. Gwen showed Gunner the articles about the murders, while Seneca and Cat helped Win to a comfortable chair with a lot of soft cushions. Ansel was in the kitchen throwing away the zip ties when he was surprised by Drew.

"Hey," the kid whispered, making it hard for Ansel to hear him. "You, uh, seeing your sister's friend there? What's her name?"

"Seneca." Ansel couldn't help but look over at her. Her long hair, her amazing body, her beautiful face.

"Yeah, Seneca. You seein’ her, because if not…Damn, that girl is hot." They both stared at Seneca's ass when she bent over, and Ansel's hackles raised as Drew blew out an appreciative breath. "Real hot."

But what could he say. They weren't sleeping together. Quite the contrary. Seneca told him that he would never touch her again, and that the only reason she had allowed it in the first place was because he… He hurt her.

His stomach clenched, and he cleared his throat.

"No, there's nothing there."
Never would be
.

"So, I have your blessing?"

Ansel smiled at his friend and joked, "As if she would have you," to conceal his numbing pain.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ansel had been avoiding her all morning, and Seneca knew why. He had to have heard his sister yelling last night. She needed to talk to him, but that was not going to happen with all this commotion. Gwen was gathering any old genetic research she thought might be useful, while she and Cat prepared the house for their trip.

She took the kitchen trash out to the garage, just as Ansel was hopping in the Chevy. She watched him lay his right arm across the back of the bench seat as he turned his head to pull the pickup out so they would have access to the larger Range Rover.

The back of a silver Ford Explorer was opened by the darker scary guy. Win, was shoving a clip into the bottom of his nine millimeter pistol. It clicked it into place and she flinched, causing him to look her way.

They held each other's eyes for a moment when someone said from behind, "Please, allow me," giving her a heart attack.

"Oh." The nice one, Drew, was pulling the trash out of her hands. "Thank you."

"Seneca, right?" he asked, in that charming twang. The man walked the short distance to the large trash can, tossing the trash bag in, before walking back over to her.

"Yes," she nodded, noticing for the first time that Drew was a lot younger than the other two.

"I hear you work on a Seattle food magazine with Catherine?" he asked, with a smile so pleasant that she immediately became nervous. She looked over at the scary guy, who chuckled, then went back to cleaning his guns.

"Yes, that's right." She felt self-conscious. "It's called
The Finer Things
. We've been publishing for three years now."

"Wow, that's great." Drew nodded. "So I bet you know a bunch a good restaurants in Seattle?"

Ansel was walking back into the garage. She tried to concentrate on her conversation, but she was having a hard time.

"Yeah," she smiled. "There's a ton of great places to eat in Seattle."

"Well." Drew stepped a little closer. Too close. "Maybe you can take me to one of 'em sometime?" Ansel didn't even look at her, just turned his head slightly as he opened the door.

"Sure," she mumbled, hurt. "I'd love to."

The door closed, and Ansel was gone.
What were they talking about?
She blinked, looking up at the young man, whose smile was so big it lit up his deep blue eyes.

"Well, all right then." He put his thumb through a front belt loop. "I'll give you a call when all of this…" He made swirly motions with his index finger. "Is over."

"Okay."
Wait!
Did she just agree to go on a date with Drew?
Crap.
Seneca blushed, because she was pretty sure she did. "Well, I better go help Cat finish up."

She opened the door and slipped inside with her heart still racing. Ansel stood in the corner with his back to her. His arms were crossed over his chest with his feet planted wide. He spoke in deep whispers, while Gunner stared at him, nodding his white-blond head.

After a few minutes Ansel turned around and said to the three women in the room, "Time to go."

Gwen locked up the silo and Ansel walked with Gunner out to the silver Explorer. She watched as the three men, who had been trying to kill them, left to help save them. It was a shock to the system. As they drove off, she prayed that they would succeed.

"I can't drive." Ansel shoved his gun in his holster. "I need both hands."

A chill went through Seneca.

Gwen spoke up, offering, "It's my car. Why don't I take first shift?" She looked at Cat. "Sit up front with me, sweetie. I want to hear all about that husband I'm about to meet."

Not wanting to talk, Seneca sat behind Cat. She knew that Gwen would need to keep her eyes on the road ahead. Ansel slipped in behind Gwen, and even though the tiny woman sat about as far forward as she could go, Ansel's knees still touched the back of the driver's seat.

He was so large, and she felt vulnerable sitting this close to him. Not physically intimidated, just…scared.

Gwen backed out of the garage then pressed a button, and the heavy door started to swing closed. The silo disappeared into the hillside, prompting Cat to ask, "How did you cover the garage door with grass?"

"Oh, the door was a nasty metal thing, so I just bought a bunch of those magnetic planters at IKEA," Gwen said, and Cat laughed. "Turned out nice, I think."

"Yeah, it did," Cat agreed, and started talking about her own home.

Seneca stared out her window, listening to their chatter until they pulled out onto the freeway. Gwen headed west on I-90 and Ansel announced to the car, "I'm going to try and get some sleep. Stay in the right hand lane, and don't stop without waking me first."

He unzipped the leather jacket he was wearing, then leaned towards her to pull his arm out of the sleeve. Seneca pressed herself against her car door, but she still felt his heat mingled with the scent of his cologne, a masculine scent that made her close her eyes as she remembered breathing him in when he was on top of her.

Ansel leaned the other way, and she felt exposed, as if she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. But no one else seemed to notice her lust raging just a few feet away from them.

She forced herself to stare out the window, pretending not to see Ansel wadding up his leather jacket and shoving it behind his head.

He cleared his throat and she glanced over at him, but he wasn't paying any attention to her. He was too busy finding a comfortable position for his head on the makeshift pillow, before crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes.

She waited a few moments. But now that he could not see her do it, Seneca looked at him. He was so beautiful that she just stared at him. His strong jaw, his perfect nose, his skillful lips.

Her gaze lingered on his mouth as she remembered the feel of those lips on her breast, the feel of his teeth scraping gently against her nipple. Then Ansel opened his eyes and looked directly at her, and her breath caught.

His stare was too intense. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't until he released her.

His eyes drifted closed as if she were nothing, and he didn't open them again. For hours. She knew, because she spent the time thinking.
Why was she even here?
In this car, with him.

They were going back to Seattle. Cat couldn't go home, but Seneca could. She had an apartment. A life outside of work. Sure Cat was her best friend, but she had other friends.

Honestly, there was not much else she could do for Cat. It wasn’t like she could help Gwen figure out this anomaly. And she sure as hell was no Army Ranger or whatever the official title was for those black ops people.

What else could she contribute?

She could do research online. She could help run phone and computer traces, but that could be done from the comfort of her own home. And surely Dave would want some privacy when he was reunited with his rescued wife. She would just be in the way.

The seatbelt tugged on her shoulder as she leaned forward to discuss the matter with Gwen and Cat in soft whispers, so they wouldn't wake Ansel up.

They all agreed that with the exception of Gunner's team, nobody involved in Cat's attempted abduction would even know who Seneca was. Ansel had even said that she would be safer at home.

And she would be.

By the time they arrived in Seattle, Cat was driving. It was dark, and the stop-and-go traffic had lulled Ansel back into a deep sleep. She watched his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

They were getting close to her high-rise apartment. She quietly unbuckled her seatbelt and reached in the back to get her purse.

Cat pulled over to the curb and Seneca leaned forward, squeezing her arm and whispering, "I'll call you tomorrow," before slipping out of the car.

The Range Rover pulled away, and even though Seneca knew she would see Cat again, she started to cry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ansel yawned. There was something about a dark, rainy night that always made him sleepy. Not like earlier in the day. He had tried to fall asleep somewhere around Missoula. Needed to, but then he had made the mistake of looking at Seneca. She was so damn beautiful. All he could think about after that was her and Drew.

Fuck!
Now he was thinking about it again.

He cracked his eyes open, hoping to steal a glimpse of her, before she knew he was awak— Ansel bolted upright. "Where is she!"

"Oh my God, Ansel," Cat yelled. "You scared me to death!"

Gwen looked back at him, her eyes soft. "We dropped her off at her apartmen—"

"I told you—" He took a deep breath to control his anger. "—to wake me before you stopped. Anywhere!"

"Sweetie." Gwen placed her small hand on his knee. "Seneca is a grown woman, and she wanted to go home."

That stung. Of course she would want to get away from him, but it didn't matter.

"It's too dangerous."

"We talked about that when you were asleep," Cat reasoned with him. "As far as these people are concerned, Seneca is simply a colleague of mine. She doesn’t have this DNA anomaly. If she came with us, she’d be in much more danger than living in her own apartment and getting on with her life."

She was right. Seneca would be far safer if she had never met him, but the panic in his chest disagreed. Strongly.

"They’ll know she's been out of town," he argued. "They’ll ask themselves why. And they’ll have no problems taking her, and…" Images flashed. Dank rooms. Interrogations. Screams. "…doing whatever it takes to get the information they want."

"Are you serious?" Cat looked at him in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, Cat," he said, through clenched teeth. "Deadly serious."

"Look, we're almost to the house Joe found for us." Gwen's tone was meant to soothe him. "Why don't you drop us off so that we know Cat is safe, and then if—"

Ansel was shaking his head. "There's no 'if' about it. I'm getting her."

"All right, sweetie." Gwen seemed to understand, and he sat back, his heart racing the rest of the way to the safe house.

Dave was waiting outside when they arrived, and Cat had barely gotten out of the driver's seat before he was in it.

"I'll call you when I have her."

Cat nodded, looking worried. "Be careful."

Ansel raced over to Seneca's apartment. He parked underground and scanned the other cars in the dark garage as he walked to the elevator.

There was no team waiting for him, so he pushed the button.

The elevator was taking too long. He shoved the door to the right open, and ran up the four flights of stairs to her apartment, fear propelling him down the empty hall.

Ansel was breathing heavily by the time he reached the condo and rang her doorbell. He aged ten years in the seconds it took for her say, "Hello?" through the closed door.

"Seneca, it’s me. Open the door." Ansel placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to go inside. But the door didn't budge. "Is anyone in there with you?"
He would kill them.
"Are you okay?" 

"Yes." His heart stopped beating, and he pulled out his pistol. "I mean, no. There's nobody with me." He breathed a sigh of relief then holstered his weapon. "And yes, I'm fine."

"Okay," he told himself.
She's okay
. "Let me in." He waited. And waited. "Seneca, let me in."

He knocked on the door.
Maybe she couldn't hear him?

"No," she finally said.

"What…" He shook his head, confused. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I'm fine, Ansel. Thank you for coming."

'Thank you for coming'? 'Thank you for coming'!
"Seneca," he growled, stepping closer. "Open this door."

"No."

He was furious and he wanted to kick the door in, but he didn't want to cause a scene. Instead, Ansel pulled out the small set of lock picks that he carried at all times.

It took him all of ten second to unlock her door and he smiled, extraordinarily pleased with himself. He turned the knob, and was taking a step forward when the chain stopped him dead in his tracks with a loud
thunk.

***

"Did you just pick my lock?" Seneca was furious.

"Yes. Unchain the door." Ansel sounded mad. "Now."

"No." She didn't want to see him. Couldn't see him. Her eyes were all puffy from crying, even after a hot bath.

"Seneca." He sounded calm, reasonable. "Unchain this door, or I will be forced to break it down. And if I do that, one of your male neighbors will come out to help you. And if that man takes a swing at me, he will be hurt. Badly. Now, please, Seneca." He took a deep, calming breath. "Unchain the goddamn door."

She was standing in her entryway, thinking about what to do, when she heard her adorable neighbor Riley ask, "Are you okay, Seneca?" Obviously concerned.

The chain only allowed her a partial view of Ansel, but the way he was looking back at her made Seneca panic.

"I'm fine, Riley," she sang, sliding the chain off the door. Ansel stormed into her apartment, leaving her standing halfway in the hall. "I was just in the shower." She pointed inside. "Didn't hear him knock. How are you?""

"I'm good." Riley glanced at Seneca's apartment, wary of the man who had just stormed into it. "I just wanted to make sure—"

"All right then, have a great night." Seneca waved, closing the door before Ansel did it for her.

She turned around, and almost ran into his chest. Ansel had both hands on his hips and was staring down at her, livid.

Equally angry, Seneca folded her arms across her chest. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why did you get out of the car?"

"Because I wanted to."

They stared at each other and then Ansel grabbed her upper arm, pulling her into the bedroom. "You need to be at the safe house. Go pack," he ordered, and Seneca did not like being ordered to do anything.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she snapped, wrenching her arm free. "I'll do whatever I want, when I want. I'm not the one they're looking for, remember?"

"But they
will
be looking for people who know Cat. So pack!" he yelled, throwing his right arm out as he pointed at her closet.

"No."

"God damn it, Seneca," Ansel growled. Flames might as well have been flying out of his nostrils when he said, "Go," on an unsteady breath. "Pack." He stared down at her, whispering, "Now."

"Or what?" She stared back, incensed. "You'll hold a gun to my head?"

He flinched, and she instantly regretted saying it when she saw the hurt consume his beautiful eyes. She had wounded him, deeply. And the worst part of it was, Seneca knew she would hurt him when she said it.

Tears dangled from her lashes as she watched the hardness return to him. "Ansel—"

"Please, pack." He turned away from her and opened a dresser drawer.

"Why?" she breathed. "Why do I need to go with you?"

His hand stilled, and she didn't think he was going to answer. But Ansel turned around and walked toward her, standing so close that she was straining to look up at him.

"Because," he whispered, "I want you with me," before leaning down and kissing her. Hard, and hungry.

Ansel took all of her breath and she was getting lightheaded. His tongue stroked and tasted her, an appetizer of what was to come.

He was out of control, and she let him control her.
For now
. He relinquished her mouth so he could lift her shirt over her head, and then his was gone too.

Oh my God.
She just stared at him, not knowing where to begin.

Seneca kissed the muscular mounds covering his chest, then teased his nipple, biting gently. He gave a grunt of approval, and he must have lifted her up because the next thing she knew, she was on the bed, her bra was gone, and he was kissing down her neck. His large hands cupped her breast, then her ass, pulling her flush against him.

Seneca closed her eyes so she could feel every touch, every She. Seneca ran her hand down his muscular back as he kissed between her breasts, claiming both with his hands.

His mouth was on her nipple, sucking in a rhythm that was preparing her for him. She moaned with pleasure, and then it was his turned to nip at her. Seneca shuddered, pressing against him and he felt her encouragement. Ansel pulled off her jeans and then she heard her panties rip.

              His impatience was so…hot.

He moaned, running his hands down the smooth skin of her inner thigh as he spread her legs. She leaned her head back, waiting to be devoured, but he teased her instead.

His heat, the lightest touch of his lips as he breathed her in. He was torturing her, and he knew that she liked it, could see by how wet he was making her. She moved closer, begging him to consume her.

He chuckled, a masculine satisfaction that made her head spin.

"Taste me," she whispered to herself, but he listened, and savored her with one long, languid stroke of his tongue.

Her hips came off the bed, but he held her down with his large hands, laving, licking, and sucking her until she was the one losing control. Her hands were lost in the hair on the back of his head, and she rocked her hips with his rhythm. The internal heat was building, and she was about to come when he stopped feasting.

Her eyes fluttered open, and he was standing in front of her completely naked.
Jesus.
He was breathtaking. But she only had a moment to enjoy the sight of him before he was on top of her.

"The first time you come for me," he whispered against her neck, "I'm going to be inside of you."

She spread her legs wider, and he settled between them. His weight felt so good on top of her. She grabbed his ass, pulling him closer. He grinned, giving in to her demand and entering her slowly.

Seneca couldn't breathe as he filled her, but she wanted more. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he closed his eyes, groaning with pleasure.

He pushed deeper into her with long, languid strokes. Over, and over until she was building, floating.
Harder, s
he thought she said.
Harder.
She lifted her hips to meet his thrust.
Harder.
She began moaning and she could feel his hunger building, which only added to her excitement.

She was so close.

Oh, God. She was cresting, and with her last ounce of energy, she begged, "Fuck me." And with those words, he was unleashed.

He grabbed the headboard with both hands, and she held on to his muscular arms as he penetrated her, hard.

"Come for me," he breathed, grabbing her ass and pushing deeper to send her over the edge in a blinding orgasm that made her leave her body, quivering.

And then she felt him shake, grunting with each thrust until he made no sound as he filled her. He thrust again, fighting to prolong his pleasure as he held himself deep inside of her, until he had nothing left to give.

Weak, his arms gave out and he collapsed gently on top of her. Neither of them moved, neither of them wanting to.

After several deep breaths, Ansel propped himself up on his elbows and brushed a long strand of hair off of her face, so he could look at her when he said, "So, you're a screamer?"

She blushed. "Not usually," she admitted.

A lopsided grin spread across his face, and she was startled by the self-satisfaction shining through his bright eyes.

"Well, you are now." He bent his head and kissed her one last time, before getting off the bed. "Come on." He was pulling on his boxers. "Let's get you packed."

Seneca sat up, pulling the sheet over her body to protect herself. "No, Ansel."

His hands were on the zipper of his jeans, but they dropped to his sides. "We have to go, Seneca. Now. I’m not joking."

"Why? So I can sit around this safe house for a month, or two, while Gwen tries to figure you two out?" She got out of bed. "No thanks. I have a life."

"They will come here, Seneca. Men like me." She stilled, looking at him in a different light. "They will ask you about my sister. And if they think for one moment that you're lying to them, they will take you to some cell in the middle of nowhere and torture you until they are satisfied that you don't know where she is.

“And you do know, Seneca. And then what do you think will happen after you tell them where Cat is, because believe me, you will tell them. And then they will kill you, and dump your body in the middle of a desert somewhere before breaching the safe house. Killing Cat, Dave, Gwen and me, because I won't be able to stop all of them."

He was breathing heavily, short angry breaths that betrayed his calm exterior.