Beneath the Surface (29 page)

He paused a moment, as if weighing the wisdom of his words. The fucking Fed should have thought about them a little harder.

“I think we need to move fast, and the easiest way to do that is to draw the killer out—”

“Wait a minute,” Asher cut in, sitting a little straighter in his chair and trying his damndest not to launch himself across this table. “You want to use Quinn as bait? Not a fucking chance!”

“Asher . . .” Jax’s hand rested on his shoulder, and it wasn’t to comfort him. His brother wanted hands on him so he could hold him back in case Asher decided to plant his fist in Agent Meadows’s face. “Rein it in, Ash. Listen to what the man has to say.”

“Ms. Summers is the only connection we have to this case right now.”

She wasn’t the only connection. But Asher wasn’t thrilled about admitting it. He’d worked hard to put that part of his life behind him, to sever those connections. The last thing he wanted to do was drudge up the past and open old wounds that were just starting to scab over.

“It’s going to take time to put this investigation together, to mobilize a team to start chasing down leads. The longer it takes to shut this trafficking operation down, the more girls are going to go missing. Do you know what the chances are of us recovering them? Less than 2 percent. But if we can draw him to her, if we can catch this son of a bitch, we can shut this operation down.”

“I’ll do it,” Quinn offered.

“The hell you will!” he growled.

“Asher, they’re right. I just want this to be over. The thought of more girls disappearing . . .”

Muttering a curse under his breath, he scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I know someone who’s worked for EO. He tried to recruit me when I left the military and he did some freelance work for Tate Security. I’ll talk to him and see what kind of information I can get—maybe a name of his contact. At the very least it would give you guys a starting point, but you’re going to have to get a call through to the District of Columbia Department of Corrections.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult. Who’s the guy?”

“Rolland Peterson.”

Agents Meadows and Kellen exchanged a concerned look. They knew what Peterson was capable of and were clearly hesitant about making contact with him. But there were no other options, and the agents knew that as well as Asher did. Agent Meadows stood and Jax led him to his office to make the call. They weren’t gone more than ten minutes before they returned. The agent didn’t look happy. Sitting down in the seat across from them, the special agent said, “He won’t take the call. Said if you wanted to talk to him you knew where to find him. Otherwise, I believe his exact words were ‘fuck off.’”

Shit, of all the people Asher didn’t want to see again, this guy was definitely one of his top five. He was less than thrilled about the idea of leaving Quinn behind in order to do it. But if he didn’t find these Feds an EO lead, he wouldn’t put it past them to pursue this killer by using Quinn to draw the fucker out.

“I’ll go talk to him, under one condition. You take Quinn into protective custody and hide her in a safe house. I want full disclosure and direct contact with both of you. And Jaxson stays with her at all times while I’m gone. I won’t have Quinn become collateral damage so you two can fast-track this goddamn case.”

Meadows and Kellen exchanged looks but neither of them were agreeing to shit at the moment. Maybe they were hesitant about working with an ex-marine Special Forces commander who was now a civilian, but he still had the security clearance to cut through whatever red tape these Feds needed to make this happen. Fuck, he didn’t want to do this, but at this point there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to help Quinn or end this nightmare for her.

“Listen, these are my terms. You don’t agree and I’ll have her out of here so damn fast it’ll take you months to find her again. I get your concern for those kids and wanting to expedite this investigation, but Quinn’s safety is my most important concern and I won’t have you treating her like one of your sacrificial lambs—even if it will help you catch a killer. If you want my help, and right now I’m the best lead you’ve got to the EO, we’re going to do this my way.”

The senior agent must have seen the truth in his eyes because he gave Asher a curt nod. “Agreed. I assure you, Ms. Summers’s safety is our highest priority as well.”

CHAPTER

38

T
he Feds had located her. According to his boss, they were moving Quinn to a safe house. Getting to her wouldn’t be easy. It would take an elaborate setup and planning to get past those agents. The collateral damage was going to be extensive—but it was a cost he was willing to pay. He’d have to figure out a way it couldn’t be traced back to him when it was all over. Not even EO knew his true identity, nor did he know that of his boss. It was safer that way, for all of them. If one of them got caught, the integrity of the organization remained intact. Only one other man knew his connection to EO, and he was about to become instrumental in helping him pull this mission off.

He didn’t know where his boss was getting his information, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out it was someone within the FBI. Up until this point, he’d been on his own with intelligence, but now that the Feds were involved, suddenly it was pouring in.

It was surprising the people who could be bought for the right price. He was a prime example of how the government could corrupt and erode a person’s humanity until there was nothing left but anger, hatred, and greed. After a while, killing became as natural as breathing—as essential as eating. It was the only time he truly felt anything anymore. The power of taking a life . . . For just a moment, becoming the mighty hand of God . . . There was nothing like it.

He’d paid his dues with this one, worked hard for his kill. Quinn’s life had become his the moment she’d stepped off that truck and onto the barren Haitian dirt—though neither of them had known it at the time. Destiny had intertwined their paths too many times for it not to be fate. She belonged to him, not that self-righteous bastard Tate.

He wouldn’t fail again . . .

It was all happening so fast, Quinn’s head was spinning. One minute they were meeting with federal agents and the next she found herself in protective custody, being stashed away in a safe house outside of Denver. The house was a modest two-story design with two bedrooms on the main level. A kitchen and dining room were divided by an island, and the living room housed a large fireplace. A small sitting room and two other bedrooms shared an adjoining bath on the upper level. The home was secluded, tucked away on a small private lake. She heard Asher commenting to Jax when they pulled up that the location would make the house difficult to approach from the back unnoticed. As far as feeling safe went, she wasn’t sure it could get any more secure than two armed FBI agents, a homicide detective, and a retired Special Forces recon soldier holed up inside this house with her. Someone would have to be a suicidal fool to try to attack her here.

But her security detail was about to go down by one. So far, she hadn’t gotten any time alone to talk with Asher. He was busy with Agents Meadows and Kellen. Jax had agreed to stay with her while he was gone. The thought of him leaving her, even for a day, made Quinn’s heart sink with dread.

She kept her fears and protests to herself, though. Quinn knew he didn’t want to go, and refused to make this any more difficult for him than it already was. This situation needed to end, and if Asher could get the answers to help discover who was behind it, then what other choice did she have than to let him go?

It was late. Quinn had had a long day, as had everyone else. She stood at the bedroom window, watching the moon glimmer off the lake’s surface, and tried not to panic. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she hugged Asher’s T-shirt close. She was exhausted—to the point of emotional—but was unable to unwind enough to sit down and rest.

Asher’s flight was leaving early in the morning. Quinn wanted to go with him, but as of five o’clock tonight, she was officially in protective custody of the FBI—which basically meant she was a prisoner. Her only consolation was in knowing Asher wouldn’t be gone long. He planned to return tomorrow night.

It scared her that in such a short time she could become so reliant on Asher. What was going to become of them when this nightmare was over? Asher had yet to speak of a future together, to offer her any sort of a commitment beyond keeping her alive. Not that that wasn’t an important one. It was probably hard to think about tomorrow when you were just trying to survive today.

A soft knock sounded on the door before it opened. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. She could sense his presence; feel the energy in the room shifting in response to his approach. When he came up behind her, his outdoorsy, masculine scent enveloped her as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed.

Quinn exhaled a deep breath and sank back into his strength. His chin rested on top of her head and they stood there together in silence, looking out to the glistening water below. “It’s beautiful here . . .” she commented offhandedly. “Though not as beautiful as your place. It’s only been a few days and already I miss it.” She was making small talk for fear that if the conversation turned to him leaving, she’d cry. What if the man who shot Jax realized it wasn’t Asher, and that he was still alive? She wasn’t this assassin’s only target. What if he went after Asher now that she was in protective custody? No doubt when Asher started asking questions about Eagle Ops, it was going to raise red flags and the bastard would figure out quickly enough he was still alive.

His lips pressed against her temple and he drew in a slow, deep inhale. “With any luck, we’ll get back there soon . . .”

Was this his way of asking her to stay with him? Was he offering her a chance at something with him that went beyond “protect and serve”? His lips grazed her cheek, her jaw, her neck . . . And all concerns about the future retreated to the background of her mind as the here and now demanded its due. Asher’s hand slipped under her shirt to capture her breast as his mouth nipped and sucked the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t sure she felt comfortable doing this in a house full of FBI agents, not to mention his brother. She was just about to tell him so when he trapped her nipple between his thumb and finger, sending a dart of painful pleasure zinging into her core. There was something off with him tonight—he was restless . . . edgy. She could sense it in the persistent boldness of his touch, feel it in the demanding abrasiveness of his kiss. He seemed to have an excess amount of testosterone and frustration built up inside him and he wanted to work it out on her. The idea of becoming that outlet for him had her instantly wet and aching for him. Suddenly, she found herself rationalizing her reservations.

“I’ve wanted to do this all day . . .” he whispered against her ear. “The thought of leaving you tomorrow is tearing me up.” He held her tighter, kissing his way down her neck. “I tell myself you’ll be fine, but I don’t want anyone protecting you but me.”

There was his rub . . . the annoyance eating away at him. Asher wasn’t a man who gave up control, and she could sense what it was costing him to do so now—even if it was only for one day. Neither she nor Asher had a choice in the matter, not if they wanted this to end. All she could do was be here for him and ease his frustration any way she could.

“I’ll be fine with your brother,” she assured him with more bravado than she felt. Not that she didn’t trust Jax or the other agents; they just weren’t Asher. Quinn turned in his arms and slowly slid his shirt up, exposing a roadmap of muscles she wouldn’t mind exploring with her tongue. She could see this body every day for the rest of her life and never grow tired of it. “You’ll be back tomorrow night. And I’ll be here waiting . . .”

He let her go long enough to finish pulling off his shirt, and hers, leaving her standing in nothing but a white lace thong. He took a moment to study her in the glow of the moonlight shining in through the window. She stood there, heart pounding in anticipation at the wild possessiveness reflecting in his eyes. She was long past her shyness. It was impossible to retain any bit of modesty after Asher had made love to her. He’d left no part of her untouched, unexplored, or unclaimed. She belonged to him . . . body, mind, and soul.

When his hungry gaze dragged up to lock on hers, she held it as she knelt before him. Something flared in Asher’s eyes—it was the look of a man about to lose control, and a thrill of fear and excitement lit up her veins. Before she lost her nerve, Quinn unfastened his jeans, sliding them down his long, muscular legs, and released his cock from Abercrombie & Fitch.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest, the heat blazing in his eyes, sent Quinn’s heart beating at a chaotic tempo. She held fast to that beautiful multicolored stare as she parted her lips and slowly dragged her tongue over his crown.

He hissed a breath and growled a vulgar curse that startled her. She’d never done this before and wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. But she’d definitely underestimated the intensity of his reaction. Asher’s eyes broke her stare and his lids fluttered closed as his head tipped back, exposing the thick, corded muscles of his neck. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen—this powerful, muscular man submitting himself to her . . .

But not entirely. No, there was always that small element of control he had to hold on to. He could never fully let go, and she felt it now as he gathered her hair out of her face and fisted it into his hand. Slowly, he pulled her head forward, guiding himself into her mouth. As he set the pace, she slipped one hand up his thigh and around to grab the hard muscled flesh of his ass, biting her nails in just hard enough to make sure he remembered who was really in charge here.

“Oh fuuuck . . .” he groaned, his cock jerking in response to the warning, and maybe the pain.

She relaxed her throat and took him deeper as her other hand slowly slid to his hip. Her thumb swept over the muscular indent before her fingers rode up the ridges of his stomach—his entire body was like flesh-covered steel. The tactile foreplay sent her senses into overload. The scent of him, the taste of his essence on her tongue . . . The intimately erotic feeling of him filling her mouth had her moaning with pleasure. She was so close to coming and he wasn’t even touching her. The ache between her thighs, the building pressure deep in her core, was almost unbearable. She dragged her nails over Asher’s pec and the flat disc of his nipple.

He barked a sharp curse as the first embers of his release slicked across her tongue. His hand fisting her hair tightened and he pulled her mouth away. Before she realized what he was doing, Asher yanked her to her feet and ripped away the scrap of lace between her legs. Lifting her up, he backed her against the wall and thrust inside her.

The sudden invasion ripped a cry of pleasure from her throat. Asher’s mouth covered hers, swallowing her release as he relentlessly drove them over the edge. She inhaled his low groan as a rush of heat poured into her, sending her spiraling into ecstasy.

After a few breath-catching moments, Asher leaned back just far enough to meet Quinn’s eyes. Where a few minutes ago there had been wild, untamed lust, there was now concern. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

It had been a rough ride. Luckily, she liked him like that. No doubt she’d be feeling him all day tomorrow.

Before she could assure him she’d never been better, Asher murmured a self-recriminating “Fuck, you make me lose control . . .”

He’d yet to put her down, to leave her heat. Quinn slipped her hand beneath his chin and lifted it so his gaze met hers. “Hey, I’m fine . . .” Giving him a teasing smile she said, “Besides, I like it when you lose control.”

Exhaling a sigh, he rested his forehead against hers. “Thank God, because I feel like that’s all I do around you.”