Deadly Games (20 page)

November 15; 1:33 a.m.

Rori grazed a finger over Ian’s chest, her head resting on his shoulder. The sheets were twisted around their bodies, the room was dark now with the exception of the nightlights of D.C. permeating the room. The apartment was quiet, the only noise the faint hum of the heater kicking on.

His heart beat against her ear, his arm holding her and his fingers tracing patterns on her hipbone. His other arm was bent behind his head.

“What did you mean?” he asked, his voice gruff.

She frowned. “About what?”

“Not having kids. What happened?”

He would zero in on that, wouldn’t he?

She started to roll away, but he didn’t move, only tightened his hold on her.

“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. Just stay where you are.” He didn’t lessen his hold on her.

She waited, tensed. She wasn’t going into that tonight. Tonight had been too wonderful, she wasn’t about to ruin it talking about that, let alone even think about it.

Rori took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“That bad huh?” He turned and kissed her forehead.

How could the man make her feel weak and strong all at the same time?

She waited. The night surrounded them.

Normally, this was where she got up and left. There were only three men she’d spent an entire night with. Two of which she’d never questioned the next morning. Others were simply quick fucks.

She’d thought that Ian Kinncaid would be the latter.

But she knew, knew in the deepest part of her, that this man holding her would be one of the former and maybe even something else.

She shied from that thought.

“If you’re not going to go to tell me, at least stop thinking,” he muttered against her forehead.

“You can go to sleep, ya know.”

He grunted. “Not as loud as you’re thinking.”

She propped her head up on her hands and looked at him. They were in the shadows and she couldn’t even make out his features, just the outline of his head, dark against the pillow.

“Well, since we’re both awake, how ‘bout another bang?” Rori leaned in and kissed him.

“Another bang? As in you want to play with my SIG?”

“Told you I knew how to handle a gun.”

“A bang.” She heard the grin in his voice. “I love it when you go Brit on me.” His 129

chuckle rumbled against her chest.

* * * *

9:45 a.m. Rori looked at the little girl sitting quietly on the couch. She was coloring on a sheet of white paper, there were blue lines and red squiggles. Rori had no freaking clue what she was supposed to do with the girl all day.

Ian had left early, telling her to go wherever, as long as she took one of the guards with her.Like she couldn’t guard one little girl?

Maybe they’d go shopping. Sounded like a plan to her. There were several shops downstairs.

She smiled as she rose and walked back to the bedroom. The sheets were twisted on the bed and she couldn’t help but remember exactly why they were so twisted. Ian had merely screwed her against the door, they’d then gone to the bed and he’d shown her she could beg for just about anything.

She grinned and breathed deep. Like housekeeping wouldn’t know what the hell had happened in here. But then, they were expected to be doing the deed, weren’t they?

In the bathroom, she looked at her reflection. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

She shook off the thoughts and quickly dressed in slacks, a button down, and a jacket. She strapped her piece at her waist, the holster hidden at the small of her back.

Technically, that was illegal. Policemen tended to frown on carrying of a concealed weapon, but she wasn’t about to go out without one. If it came down to her and Darya and she could have averted their harm but didn’t because she’d left her piece at home, well …

that was simply unacceptable.

She turned and in the doorway stood Darya holding a picture. Hiding behind it, more like.

“’allo,” Rori said, squatting down. She tilted her head and reached out, taking the picture.

There were three sticks figures on it. A man, a woman, and a little girl. They all had big heads, but the hair color and eyes were all correct. She had to grin at the fact both she and clearly Ian held guns. Big guns.

Smiling, she looked at Darya and said, “Thank you.” She clutched the picture to her and stood, holding her hand out.

Rori knew the girl probably couldn’t understand her. But she set the drawing on the counter and asked if Darya wanted her to braid her hair. She motioned, then acted like she was doing it on the girl’s head.

Darya frowned, then her expression cleared and she nodded.

Rori picked her up and set her on the counter, facing the mirror.

She picked up the detangling comb they used on the little girl. With her hair, tangles were inevitable. She grabbed the bottle of spritzy stuff one of the aunts had left yesterday. Maybe it was Taylor? Yeah, the red-head.

Rori carefully, combed the little girl’s hair. So soft, and an image bopped into her head.

Sitting just like this, in one foster home, the lady carefully combing her own hair, 130

laughing at something.

Mrs. Rittlebaum. Rori smiled at the memory. They’d been nice enough, but the husband had died unexpectedly and the kids had been put back in the system.

Not perfect by any means. Her next home had been hell.

Shaking off the thoughts, she focused on the hair in front of her.

It was too quiet in here. One thing, these Kinncaids knew how to keep guests happy. There were stereos in the bathrooms.

She clicked the radio on and found a country station. She loved country music and this was a George Straight.

Rori hummed along with the cowboy and then sang the song with him about a man moaning the fact his woman left him.

She missed a word and her voice faltered. Darya giggled.

Rori smiled at her and parted her hair braiding it. So soft. The girl had gorgeous hair, down past her shoulders and full of curls that so many women paid money for.

As she got to the end of the braid, smaller and smaller, she stopped and dug through the vanity draws until she found a band to put around it. She wondered where they’d come from, but since they’d been here, housekeeping and hotel staff, once cleared, had been in and out bringing packages, food, clothing, more stuff than she could keep track of.Looking in the mirror, she wiped both palms along the sides of the girls hair smoothing the fly-aways. Without thinking, she placed a kiss on top of the girl’s head.

Darya frowned.

Rori frowned, then shook her head. Cute kid, nothing more.

She helped Darya off the counter and they went to the girl’s room and chose an outfit to wear. In five minutes both were ready to go.

* * * *

5:04 p.m. The sun was setting as they drove through the late afternoon traffic out of DC. and into the suburbs. Concrete and rising buildings gave way to newer sprawling shopping complexes and discount stores. Homes and housing units.

He’d spent the day talking to Pete, going over intel report after intel report. Three raids were set up on brothels by several tasks forces thanks to what he knew. Maybe they’d free some girls without anyone getting killed.

Between what he’d seen and what he knew, what Pete knew and then after lunch, when John joined them, they’d been able to see how large Elianya’s operation really was.

Or what they knew of it.

Right now, it seemed her newest operation was child porn hidden behind the innocent image of overseas adoptions.

It made him sick. They handed the tape they’d confiscated from the townhouse to Pete. And he’d had to watch it again.

The big pale man, raping the young girl, finally squeezing the life out of her and he knew Darya had seen that.

Those large male hands hurting that girl.

That girl.

Zoy. And still the image looked so much like Darya for several moments in the 131

viewing room, he couldn’t freaking breath, felt the ice prickle over his skin, swallowed by the heat and thought his head would explode.

God.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he glanced in the back and saw Darya sleeping against the side of the large carseat, her chin resting against the shoulder harness. And still she kept the bear clutched tightly in her hands. She hadn’t had anymore nightmares again last night. Just that first one. Thankfully the memories left her alone after that. It seemed the girl had nightmares every night He wanted to buy her more gifts. Clothes, toys. Most of all, he wanted to show her life could hold laughter.

Wasn’t that ironic. He who never laughed wanted to teach the concept of happiness to a child.

God, he needed help.

Over an hour later, thanks to traffic they were only minutes from his parents. His parents had gone home yesterday, finally. He loved his parents, really, but it had been so long since he’d had any contact with them, he found himself trying to read them. Read the questions in their eyes they weren’t asking, or why they were asking, and tired of the endless questions they did ask of his past.

The boys had gone home with their wives, and their selective guards. John was watching Aiden and Jesslyn since he’d watched them before. Snake was with Gavin and Taylor and both Tanner and Roth were with his parents at the family mansion. Since Brayden and Christian still lived there half the time along with Tori, he figured they could use two guards.

He and Rori drove the Mercedes. A dark unmarked car drove behind them with two more guards. Personally, he thought it was over the top, but Pete was stubborn.

Fine so was he.

“Did she get anything today?” he asked into the silence.

Rori jerked and looked over at him, her profile tinged green from the dashlights.

“Not at first. She put back everything I handed her.” She frowned. “I think I need to learn to speak Russian.”

He grinned. “I’ll teach you.”

She muttered something under her breath. “But she finally picked out some drawing paper and crayons. I didn’t know what to get so she’s now set to draw whatever the hell she wants with any instrument known to children.”

“Good.” He patted his breast pocket and took out a cigarette, cracking the window.

“You know,” she said. “You really shouldn’t smoke. Second hand smoke isn’t healthy for her and even if she doesn’t directly breathe it, the allergens on your clothing can cause allergies later in her life.”

He narrowed his eyes on the road. God he wanted a damn cigarette. Fine.

He tossed the unlit cig out the window and crammed the rest of the pack under the seat, feeling the butt of the other gun he’d shoved there.

Pete had let him take a few other things with him as well, and they were in the back seat in the black duffel.

His cell phone rang. Grabbing it, he noted it was Aiden’s home number.

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“What?” he asked.

“You’re always so cheerful when you answer the phone,” Aiden said.

Ian took a deep breath. His family was going to take some getting used to. Like acclimating to a new location.

“What?” he asked again.

“Where are you?”

He glanced at the next mile marker and told Aiden, “About five minutes from your house.”

“Good then we’ll leave. The mood Mom and Dad’s been in, we really don’t care to spend anymore time with them than we have to.”

“Add it to the list,” he said, thinking of his screw ups where his family was concerned.

“List?” Aiden asked.

“Never mind.”

“See you at dinner.”

“Aiden,” he shifted lanes. “Will everyone be there?”

“Far as I know. Gavin’s already phoned, he’s going to be late, but Taylor and Ryan are already at Mom and Dad’s. And Brayden and Christian are not too far behind you.”

Ian grunted and hung up the phone.

He drove on in silence and thought about the tension he was causing between his parents. He hadn’t meant to. He’d never told anyone why he’d left. Never hinted to Aiden why he’d never come home, no matter how many times his brother asked him.

Well, nothing could be changed. He’d just have to live with it.

Rori leaned over and cut the radio on, flipping through the channels until she clicked on a country song.

“No, too hip-hop. Don’t like them.” She clicked on, seemingly going to a certain station as she passed over several he remembered listening to.

Slow, waltzing notes, twanged through the car as the man sang of lost love. Rori smiled and settled back in her seat. She hummed the tune, one he’d never heard, but then he wasn’t a big country fan, and then softly sang.

He listened more to her than he did the male vocalist. Learn something new….

She was a bit off key. He looked at her and grinned.

“What?” she asked, her voice the normal clipped syllables.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just enjoying listening to you.”

She settled back and hummed again.

As they passed Aiden’s turn off, he saw headlights down the driveway heading towards the highway. How in the hell Aiden could live this close was beyond him. Never could he live right here next to Mom and Jock. It would drive him up the wall.

A few minutes later, he slowed and turned into the long drive. Lighted windows winked through the trees from the house. They passed through the gates and he realized he could get Pete to put some guards out here.

“I don’t understand you when I see where you came from,” she muttered.

“What’s to understand? I’m still the same person I was when you met me.” Their tires crunched along the drive as they slowly drove up the house. The car’s headlights 133

behind them cut through the trees and something glinted. He looked but saw nothing.

Something prickled along the back of his neck.

The turn slid his phone off the console and into the floor board at his feet. He slowed even more, almost to the circular drive and reached down to get his phone.

His window shattered and something thunked into the dashboard.

“Jesus. Stay down,” Rori said, pulling her gun free.

He grabbed the gun wedged between the seat and console. Another shot shattered the back window.

“Darya,” he said, jerking the wheel, and floored the car towards the house.

He burst through the hedge, branches screeching down the side of the car and hoped to hell no one stood in the yard. Rori scrambled over the front seat into the back and unbuckled Darya, pushing her down to the floorboard. He thought about driving around to the back. But Aiden…. And who knew if there were more.

Checking his review mirror, he saw the car behind them blocked the driveway.

Another car pulled in behind that one, the headlights clearly belonging to an SUV.

Shit.

Aiden.

His phone rang.

“What the hell’s going on?” John asked.

“Get them out of here. Get them out now --”

The windshield exploded.

“Goddamnit.” He slid over the console into the passenger’s floorboard. “Rori! Is Darya hit? Is she all right?”

“No, I don’t think she was hit.”

He took a deep breath. He had to think. Who knew he was coming here? His family, their guards, and Pete.

Damn it.

“Rori, hand me the bag. Better yet, get me the damn goggles.”

John was still yelling at him through the phone. He scanned the trees, but saw nothing.S

hots peppered across the hood. God, if they hit the gas tank.

“We’re fucking sitting ducks,” Rori muttered. “He’ll go for the petrol tank next.”

Weighing his options, he said, “Cover Darya and your ears.”

He shot out the interior light above him and the one in the back.

“That was helpful,” Rori muttered.

“What the hell was that?” John asked.

“Interior lights. We can’t sit here. You know that.”

Bastard was playing with them. Just waiting.

“Rifle shots. How many do you think?” Rori asked.

“Ian!” John yelled.

Fuck. “Where the hell are our guards? I’ve got to get Darya and Rori out of here!”

John was barking something in the background. “I’ve called Pete. I don’t know what the bloody hell--thanks Aiden.”

“I told you to get them home.”

“I will.”

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Damn it.

More shots ripped across the hood. Darya screamed.

“On three, I’m opening the door and we’re going to try for the house,” he said.

“All right.”

“One. You’ve got my goggles?”

“Yeah, and the rest of the bag with the ammo.”

“Good. Toss it here and get her.”

She slid the bag to him. He slung it over his arm. “Two.”

He took a deep breath.

“Three.” They both said and shoved their doors open, scrambling out of the car.

The lighted windows from the house slashed across the lawn.

Ian grabbed Rori’s hand and ran. He felt her jerk, slip from his grasp.

He whirled to make certain they were both behind him.

The world exploded.

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