Omega Force 01- Storm Force (9 page)

Kell reached over to grab his wallet, but it wasn’t there,
and as he raised his gaze to meet Mori’s, he saw his own doubts reflected right
back at him. In her hand was his wallet, open to expose his driver’s license. His real driver’s license.

Judas
on a pony, when had he gotten so fucking careless? He reached out for the
wallet, and she held on a moment before releasing it with a snap.

“Nice to meet you, John Kennedy Kellison
Jr.”

Who was this guy? Sure, Kell had said they needed to talk, that he had things to
tell her, but Mori hadn’t figured it was something basic like his freaking
name
. If he was lying about his name,
what else had he lied about? And why?

Not
that she had a lot of room to point fingers without being the world’s biggest
hypocrite, but still. At least when they’d had sex, he’d known her name.
There’s even more about me, more important
things, he doesn’t know.

Yeah, definitely no room to judge. Open-minded, that was
her.

Kell stuffed his wallet back in his pocket and jerked the
car door open. “Inside.”

Open-minded
had its limits. “You need to stop barking orders at me in one- or two-syllable
words. It might work for your damned Marines, but it doesn’t work for me.” She
knew the difference between a Marine and a Ranger, but he deserved to have his
chain yanked and that seemed to do it.

Mori
opened her car door in a vain attempt to catch a stray breeze, but stayed
inside while he slammed around in the trunk, grumbling under his breath,
retrieving that gargantuan duffel bag. Which did look like something a soldier
would carry, she’d give him that much.

The
trunk slammed shut. “Are you going in, or are we going to have this discussion
in the parking lot?” Kell — if he even went by Kell — stood outside her car door, the bag slung over his
shoulder. He’d put on a shoulder holster and transferred the gun to it, although
she’d seen some kind of rifle or shotgun go into that bag.

“Fine.” She’d been thinking all along that, as soon as they
stopped, she’d make a run for it. If she went straight to Michael and told him
she agreed to their union, there would be no reason for him to go after Kell. Now, curiosity propelled her out of the car and into
the hotel room.

It
wasn’t the Waldorf Astoria, for sure. The choking diesel exhaust hanging in the
humidity outside gave way to an assault of floral-scented carpet cleaner trying
to mask the taint of stale cigarette smoke. But it was clean. Cool. Two queen-size
beds shrouded in dizzying floral spreads completed the ambience.

Mori
sat on the edge of the bed nearest the door while Kell
closed and locked it, even latching the chain. Then he wedged the
straight-backed chair from the desk under the doorknob.

“Paranoid much?”

He
barely flicked a glance her way as he hefted the duffel bag and dumped it on
the other bed. She couldn’t see his face when he straightened up, but his back
hurt. His movements, usually fluid and graceful unless he’d been sitting for a
while, spoke of sore, stiff muscles. That she knew such a thing meant she’d
obviously been watching him way too closely.

He
sat on the bed opposite her, perched on the edge of the mattress with legs bent
and shoulders tensed like he was ready to sprint on a split second’s notice. She
sat in much the same position.

Mori
fought the giggles — and lost. She laughed so hard that it came out as a snort,
which made her laugh even harder. “We are such losers.”

Kell’s expression traveled the continent from anger to
confusion to reluctant half smile. “Pretty much. What
gave it away?”

She
closed her eyes and took a deep gulp of air to get the silliness under control.
At least her outburst had suffocated her anger, and eased his as well.  “Look at us. We’re both so wrapped up in
secrets we can’t untangle ourselves, with me ready to run and you ready to
chase. And yet…”

And
yet her lies had been meant to keep him safe — to keep them both safe.

And
yet, even though they’d both thought they were so smart, they’d still ended up
hiding in a truck stop paradise.

“And
yet here we are,” Kell said softly, his blue-green
eyes a forty-fathom ocean of feelings she couldn’t read, “still together.”

Mori
nodded, her tongue poised to ask questions. Who was he? Why had he come to the
Co-Op using a fake name and pretending to be an environmentalist? And doing a poor job of it, by the way. But the answer came
to her.

“Oh my God. You
are
a cop. Or something like that.” He’d shown up at the
Co-Op only a few minutes before the Homeland Security guys arrived to take her
in. He obviously knew when they were going to release her, and had made sure he
was there. “You’ve been playing me all along.”

“No,
Mori. You don’t understand.” Kell stood at the same
time she did, reaching for her.

She
punched him mid-chest with her closed fist, earning an
oof
. “You
came to my apartment and slept with me, knowing you were trying to…to…” To what? Find evidence against her? Seduce her with gentle hands
and a hard cock? But wait. Hadn’t she made the first moves on him? How screwed
up was that?

The
heat of shame flushed across her, dulling the effects of the air-conditioning.
She pushed past him, knocking away the hand he reached out to stop her. “God, I
feel so
stupid
. I’m out of here.
Shoot me if you want to.”

It
was a good solution. All her problems would disappear if she died. Except, Michael would continue to kill.
He might do it anyway, now that he’s had a taste that it will work, now
that he’s gotten control of the governor and the industry plans have fallen apart.

A
foot from freedom, a vice closed around her right ankle, her leg buckled, and
she fell to her knees. “Damn it, Kell. Let go of me.”

She
rolled over and kicked at him, but he was on the floor with her foot tucked
under his arm like a football.

His
tone was just short of a shout. “Quit squirming and listen, damn it.”

She
raised her other foot to kick the crap out of him, but lowered it. And the
truth hit her like a lightning bolt released by Thor himself. She was being
weak by choice. No man — no normal man — could ever physically restrain her. Not
with handcuffs and not with a death grip on her ankle. Not if she really wanted
to run.

And
there was the problem. Part of her didn’t want to run. The part that hoped
somehow — impossible as it might seem — Kell could help
her.

Sensing
her change of mood, Kell released her foot and climbed
to his feet. He turned his back on her, hobbling to the duffel. He unzipped a
pouch, pulled out a bottle, and shook pills out in his hand, swallowing them dry
as if he’d done it a lot.

Mori
watched him, indecisive. Oh hell, whom was she kidding? She needed to hear him
out before going to Michael, to know if that one last night of pleasure she’d
allowed herself had been real or a setup. “I’m sorry.”

Kell raised an eyebrow at her before turning to fill a
plastic cup with tap water. “Sit.”

“Please.”

Kell turned. “What?”

“I
am not one of your Rangers that you can bark orders at like a dog. Say, ‘Sit,
please,’ or ‘Mori, let’s sit down and talk.’”

One
edge of his mouth lifted, softening those fierce eyes. “At least you didn’t
call me a Marine.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Please sit down, Mori,
and I’ll tell you what I can.”

What he could.
Which
meant not everything. She sat on the bed, crossed her arms in a mimic of
his, and jerked her head toward the other bed. “Please sit down, John Kennedy Kellison Jr., and tell me who and what you are. I’m ready.”

He
sat, wincing.

“What
happened to your back?” She wished they were at a place where she could help
him — put a hot, wet towel on it, smooth out the tense muscles. But survival took
first priority.

He
rolled his head from side to side, tendons popping. “Compression fracture in
Afghanistan on my last tour.”

So
the soldier part was true. “Can’t it be fixed?”

He
cocked his head as if surprised by the question. “There’s a surgery that can be
done, to fuse some things together. But my mobility would be limited. Or worse.”

Kell’s gaze had gone distant, his expression troubled.

Clearly
a subject he’d given a lot of thought. “You’ve been weighing the possible worst
outcomes against what you can and can’t live with, haven’t you?” She knew,
because she’d been doing the same thing.

His
eyes widened slightly before he pulled his stone face back into place. She’d
called that one right.

“Here’s
what I can tell you.” In a snap, Jack Kelly the easygoing volunteer disappeared,
replaced by a harder, grim-faced version. “You saw my license, so you know my
name is Jack Kellison. Kell
really is my nickname. The part about me being just off my last Army tour and
being injured is also true. The reason I volunteered at the Co-Op is a lie.”

Mori
nodded. She’d figured that much. “Are you a cop?”

“No.”
He ran a hand through his short hair, and she tracked the movement. Strong
hands, with long fingers, short nails, a couple of scars. Nice hands.

“Then, what? FBI? Homeland Security?” Had to be something
like that.

“Let’s
just say I’m part of a counterterrorism team trying to find out if the caller
who fingered you for the bombing was telling the truth.”

A
chill stole across Mori’s shoulders. Suddenly, the air-conditioning seemed to
be doing its job too well. Worse than Homeland Security,
then. Maybe one of those “secret force” kinds of guys she’d seen in the
movies, whom she’d always assumed were only fictional.
The ones who made up their own rules. “And what did
you find?”

Kell stood up and paced between the beds, his hands jammed
in his pockets. “Not a damned thing but hunches, but I’ve learned to trust my
hunches. They give me a few details.” He stopped and frowned at her.

Mori’s
mouth felt like an acre of East Texas dust had filled it, and she swallowed
hard. “What?” She steeled herself for his answers.

“You’re
not guilty, for one thing.” He walked back around the bed and sat facing her. “At least not of the bombing. And I don’t believe for the
time it would take a snowball to melt in hell that you had anything to do with
Carl Felderman’s kidnapping.” He paused. “Alleged kidnapping.”

Mori
couldn’t help it. The tears were there before she had time to blink them away,
and the tickle of one trailing down her cheek embarrassed her. She should be a
stronger woman, the last of her kind. How had she become so damned needy that
she turned to mush just hearing someone say he believed her?

She
wiped her cheeks impatiently. “You’re right. I didn’t have anything to do with
either one of them.” But that wasn’t quite true, was it?

“I
didn’t say you were innocent, either.”

Kell’s detached scrutiny helped her collect her nerves and
bundle them together. There would be time to let them unravel later. “And what have
you decided I’m guilty of?”

“Hell
if I know.” Kell reached across the narrow space
between the beds and wrapped his fingers around hers. “Look, you’re in trouble.
You know a hell of a lot more about this whole bombing — and maybe the threat of
a repeat in New Orleans — than you’re saying. It’s eating you alive from the
inside out. Talk to me. Let me help.”

Damned
tears. She pulled her hand away. “You can’t help. I’ll only get you killed.” She
met his gaze, and the worry in his eyes almost unraveled her again. “I don’t
know what last night meant to you, but it meant a lot to me. Everything.
I won’t let you be another sacrifice made in the name of my bad choices.”          

Mori
waited for his response, for words to form from the unreadable set of his mouth
and clench of his jaw. But a persistent barking from his phone silenced
whatever he might have said. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the
screen, and answered.

“Kell.” He looked at his watch. “Got it.”

Apparently,
he was talking to one of his “team” since he was back to barking himself.

“How
many know the situation?” He swiveled to look at his duffel, then the tiny
dressing area behind them. “As soon as possible.”

He
ended the call and turned back to her. “A couple of my team members are on
their way. I’d like a shower before they get here.”

Well,
she’d like a piña colada, but that wasn’t happening. “So, take a shower.”

“You’ll
run.”

If
she any common sense whatsoever, yes, she certainly would. So far today, common
sense had been in short supply. “No, I won’t run. I’ll stay right here.”

Damn,
but the man could move fast, and where the hell had
those cuffs come from? She could have sworn he’d left them in the granny
mobile, but there they were, already snapped onto one of her wrists. Her
reflexes had gone on vacation.

“Stop. I will not be cuffed to the bed while you shower. Seriously, Kell.” She tugged on
the wrist he had already imprisoned, and wondered if now wasn’t the time to
show him a thing or two about what she really was and how strong she could be.

“Nope.” He stood up and pulled her behind him through the
barely there dressing room and into the even smaller bathroom. “Sit.” He
pointed toward the toilet.

Was
he insane? “No way. I will not—”

“Suit
yourself.” With a grunt, he jerked her arm toward the tiny sink and clinked the other cuff around the cold-water faucet handle.
It was just big enough that the cuff wouldn’t slip off.

“Kell, I mean it. You…” Mori trailed off as Kell grabbed the neck of his T-shirt and tugged it over his
head. Heat rushed through her at the memory of that body and how it had felt
under her hands — inside her. He unzipped his jeans and reached over the tub,
turned on the hot water, and pulled the lever to send the water cascading from
the shower in an uneven stream.

“Tell
me you’re not going to leave me cuffed here to watch you take a shower.”

He
had to be joking. Surely—

Shucking
his jeans and boxers and kicking them aside, he arched an eyebrow, which she
barely saw because she was fighting to keep her eyes on his face. “I need heat
on my back, and you can watch or not. I don’t care.”