Savage Scheme (9 page)

Nate punched in his security code before entering the Barn. Walking down the hall he paused, an amused frown forming between his eyebrows as he heard his younger brother’s muttering. Leaning against the doorway to his office he watched as Luke paced grumbling angrily to himself.

"Do I want to know what crawled up your ass this morning?" 

Luke turned around to face him, his eyes sparking with anger. "Do you see this place?"

"Yeah, it looks great." 

"No. I can't find shit - she moved everything calling it
organization
." 

"Who?" 

"Who do you think? That woman Cameron hired," he said pointing angrily toward the door.

"You mean our receptionist?" Nate asked biting back his smile. 

"That's a pretty loose term and you know it. I asked for reports two days ago and I still haven't received them." 

"I don't know why she has your panties in a knot, I think she's great. Maybe you should be a little less hard on her. Hell, from the looks of it, she's doing you a favour," Nate told him, admiring his clean office. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his brother so riled up, and because Marlea organized his office? It made him wonder if their wisp of a receptionist had gotten under his skin. 

"The meeting room is all set up for when you're ready." 

Speak of the devil. 

Nate smiled and took in her curly red hair and green eyes and her no-nonsense attitude. Yes, he thought, he could see the allure. And he could see the challenge in her eyes when she looked at Luke. It was obvious he'd had words with her and neither was on the sunny side of a good working relationship at the moment. "That's great, thanks, Marlea." 

With a nod, she sashayed down the hall toward her desk. With a chuckle, he shook his head as Luke rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Glad you two could show up,” Logan drawled.

“Hello Your Highness, I missed you too,” Nate ribbed, slapping his brother on the shoulder as he walked toward his chair. “Hey, Cam.” Nate bent down and kissed the top of her head that was currently buried in her computer.

“You seem to be in a surprisingly better mood,” she noted.

“Better than what?” Nate asked, curious.

“Better than, I don’t know, the last three hundred and sixty-five days,” she said with a snort. “Does your hostage have anything to do with that?”

“She’s not a hostage if she’s here on her own accord,” he whispered.

“Does she know she’s here on her own accord?” she asked, her sassy attitude challenging him. With a wink and a grin, he sat down in his chair. He didn’t need to voice his answer. They both knew Libby was here because Nate did what he was best at, manipulating his target.

“What did you find Cam?” he started, once everyone had taken their seats.

“I was able to find some information on Libby West as a child, including images.” She pressed a button and a solemn child appeared on the screen, her hair dark brown, almost black, her eyes a matching colour.

She's wearing lenses.
Fuck!

He thought he would feel betrayed, but the natural brown of her eyes made her somehow more beautiful. And the thought of a natural Libby caused him to adjust himself, the tightening of his dick causing painful possessiveness. He hated his inability to control his reactions toward his target. He shouldn’t be feeling anything, she was part of a mission, end of. But the sombre look in her eyes destroyed a part of him. She couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen in the photo, an age where her only worries should have been if the boy she had a crush on liked her back. Instead, he was staring at a girl who was already hardened, emotionless with the weight of the world on her shoulders. The changes in her appearance were subtle but just enough of a transformation that would allow her to easily become someone else. She was good. She was very good, he admitted to himself, not for the first time. It made him curious about what else she was hiding.  

“She’s mentioned a man named Randall a number of times, he seems to have been an influential part of her life, can we get more information on him?” Nate asked.

“Do you have anything else other than a first name?” Cameron’s fingers moved furiously over the keyboard. 

“I'm almost positive he was military, he was head of security within James West's ranks.” 

“Got him. Randall Azarov - Russian military, black ops, dishonourably discharged when he killed one of his own team. Everything within that file is completely blacklisted, impenetrable - I can’t get into it. He joined James West after a year of his discharge and was his first in command for 15 years until he died four years ago.” 

“How?” 

“Cause of death - a single gunshot wound to the back of the head.”

Execution.
 

Nate nodded his head and he knew they were all connecting the dots. “Libby mentioned that Randall was able to get her away from her father.” Randall undoubtedly was killed because he helped her escape from the nightmare that was her life. He had to admit to himself that he simply put her in an alternate plane of fear, but the smokescreen proved it was better than being under her father’s thumb. 

“Quite a burden to carry,” Logan murmured, echoing his thoughts.

“There was a quiet funeral for him, the entire thing paid for by an anonymous donor.”
Libby.
God, her father, was a sick man. How could someone so kind, so warm be born from something so evil. He had no doubt Randall’s death was something she carried with her, a heavy weight that dragged her down day after day. He wished he could take it away from her, make it all better. He wished he could tell her it wasn’t her fault. But he couldn’t do that. Because just like him, it was another scar that made up who she was and he knew she believed down to her core that she was the one who practically squeezed the trigger.

“Anything else?” he prompted. 

“It took some time but I was able to locate the GPS on Libby’s cell phone.” She pulled up a map that showed on the projection screen.

“That’s her apartment,” Nate stated.

“Correct. Her phone hasn’t moved so I am assuming she ditched it.”

Nate let out a slow breath, silently wondering why she felt she needed to get rid of her phone. Had something happened at her apartment after he’d dropped her off? He remembered she seemed anxious, hurried, when she met him at the airport. Damn, he should have been paying more attention. He’d stupidly assumed she was maybe a bit nervous just showing up at the airport. He didn’t like the way it felt realizing now that she was probably running from something. Or someone.

“I was able to pull her records from the phone although there hasn’t been any activity since she got rid of it. There was a text message that she received.” Cameron pressed a button on her keyboard and the screen changed to the message.

Play time is over. Time to come home.

Nate clenched his jaw. Something wasn’t adding up and he didn’t like the feeling that he was being played. The text message didn’t sound like a man who hadn’t spoken to his daughter in years.

“When Libby logged onto your computer last night, she checked her email.”

“And what else?” Nate asked.

“Nothing, surprisingly. She moved to open your documents but just as quickly closed it without looking at any files.” He looked across the table and watched Aiden narrow his eyes at the text, pondering what Cameron was saying. He looked just as confused as Nate felt. Everything Libby had told him was contradicting with the text message she received, yet she didn’t take the opportunity to go through his computer.

“How was she behaving when she left your office last night?” Cameron asked before continuing with what she had found.

Nate frowned, remembering her odd behaviour. Everything had gotten lost in the excitement of the alarm system triggering, he hadn’t pressed her on her change of mood. “She was quiet, distant. I’d asked her what was wrong, but she refuses to really open up. She’s very closed off.”

“But you have been able to get her to talk,” Logan interjected.

“A little.”

“And how did you do that?”

Nate suddenly didn’t feel comfortable explaining how he’d gotten Libby to open up. It was a moment when she’d been lying in his arms, vulnerable, beautiful. It was a rare moment and he wanted to keep it to himself, put it in a safe place so he could pull it out and remember how her eyes softened as she spoke to him with her secret smile. How the moon bounced off the softness of her skin while she talked about the loneliness of her childhood. It was his and talking about it felt like a betrayal leaving a heavy weight in the pit of his gut. He remained silent and stared at his brother before looking away to the screen and the text message that forced him to keep his suspicions and assumptions to himself until they had further information. He hated the feeling that she was lying to him, that she made up stories from her childhood causing him to soften toward her, playing him for a fool. He hated thinking that she was working with James West.

“Why does it matter how she was behaving last night Cam, what did you find?” he urged, needing to focus on the mission and not this mindfuck he found himself drowning in.

“Libby received an email last night.” The screen clicked over and as Nate read the words he felt his stomach sink as anger surged through his system.

Peek a boo was always your favourite game - and Daddy always found you.

While you frolic in the mountains with your boy toy, I’m losing my patience, darling girl. You know what happens when I lose my patience...

Daddy misses you.

“I was able to track the original IP address. There was a lot of run around, whatever computer system he has set up is pretty advanced in concealing his whereabouts.”

“Where is he?” Nate growled, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

“He’s in the Caribbean, just like you thought. Barbados to be exact.”

“When do we leave?”

“Slow down Nate. This is a lot of information that we need to sort through. Cameron, we need coordinates and information on his exact location.”

“Already done and sending to you now.”

“Good. Do you think Libby holds any more information we can use?”

“Are you kidding me? Look at what’s on the fucking screen!”

“Nate.”

He turned to look at Max. Even though they weren’t brothers from the same blood, he and Max had a connection unlike he’d had with anyone. At times, they swore they could read each other’s minds, the way they were able to synchronize, to anticipate each one’s next move. Max had saved his ass on more than one occasion simply by knowing what Nate was going to do next. He could almost hear Max’s voice in his head now. ‘Whatever the hell you are going through right now you have to take your emotions out of it. Think about the mission. We’ll keep your girl safe. I promise you, we’ll keep her safe.’

Swallowing, Nate gave a sharp nod letting Max know he heard his unspoken message. His brother was right, he was too invested. He was thinking more about the target than the mission. Angry at himself for letting his feelings get in the way, he wondered when the hell those feelings had taken over his brain. When had Libby wormed her way into his life to the point he was putting her feelings first? And why the hell was he staring at the clock wondering when he could go home and taste every inch of her delectable, secretive skin before he sank into her heat and hear his name on her lips. Damn, he needed to take back control. He wasn’t going to let a woman manipulate him away from the mission. Especially his target.

“Why don’t you tell Libby you’re taking her out for drinks tonight? I can meet you at the bar. I’ll just happen to show up, we can sit, get to know each other - I can turn on the Max Savage charm,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

“Then Brie will have your balls,” Carmen muttered behind her computer screen.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” he told her with a wink.

“You’re disgusting. On another note, Nate, you may want to make your way home.” Cameron turned her laptop to face him. A black and white image showed Libby moving around his bedroom in a hurry, shoving all of her things into her duffle bag. “It looks like your girlfriend is planning a getaway.”

Shit.

Libby couldn’t move fast enough. She threw everything into her bag, ignoring her usual packing routine - she knew where her weapons were and that was all that mattered. She considered leaving her bag here, but she didn’t know where she was going to end up and right now her bag and the things inside of it were all she possessed. She needed to leave. She should have left last night, but she couldn’t get away from Nate. Now that he’d had to go into work for a couple of hours, she’d found her opportunity. Just thinking about her father’s email made her feel sick. He knew she was with Nate and she couldn’t drag him into her mess but she also couldn’t explain to him why she had to go. It was unfair, to just leave, she knew that. The thought of never seeing him again sent a sharp pain through her chest, a feeling she would analyze when she’d find safe ground. Sticking her gun at the small of her back, she zipped up her bag at the same time she heard the front door open. Pulling her gun, she moved silently to the bedroom doorway. She felt her heart beating rapidly against her temple.

“Libby?” Breathing out a sigh of relief at Nate’s voice she quickly realized she’d lost her getaway window.

Damn it.

She shoved her gun beneath the mattress where she’d been keeping it. “In here,” she called out. Before she could move her bag off the bed, Nate was leaning against the doorframe, looking between her and the black duffle.

“Going somewhere?”

She was sure she looked guilty. “I was thinking it was probably time for me to move on. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Nate moved to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “What if I’m not done with you yet? Don’t I get a say in this?”

She could see the tornado of emotions in his eyes while he searched hers as if looking for something. “Nate, you and I both knew what this was when we started it.”

“Enlighten me, what exactly is this?”

“It was just some fun.”

“Is that what it is to you? Just some fun?” He pulled her closer so their hips were pressed together.

Placing her hands on his arms, she closed her eyes knowing it wasn’t just fun to her. It may have started out that way. Nate was an escape. The idea of him began as a fun night where she didn’t have to be anyone but herself. She didn’t have to worry about her security or spending a night staring through the scope of her rifle. She didn’t have to blend in and be the chameleon she was trained to become. She could just be Libby, someone she hadn’t been in a very long time. But reality had caught up to her and her fun was over. “I have to go.”

“Tell me why,” he insisted quietly.

“Because it’s
not
just fun for me anymore and I’m not willing to put you in danger or drag you into my mess.”

“What danger Libby? What mess?”

She stared at him silently for a moment before shaking her head. She wasn’t going to pull him under with her. She was drowning, she realized that now. The weight of the danger that surrounded her for the entirety of her life continued to push her deeper under the waves. She needed to leave. It was a hard slap in the face that anyone she shared her life with would be subject to her same reality. The constant looking over your shoulder, the constant running. That wasn’t a life she wanted to impose on anyone, especially the one person she was realizing if she had a choice, she’d want to spend hers with. But she didn’t have a choice, her choices were taken from her the moment she was brought into this world. Everyone she had ever loved had been brutally and violently taken from her, her mother and then Randall, the two people who had tried to protect her from the evil she was born into.

She reached up to cup his cheek, pulling his forehead down to hers. She closed her eyes, starting to hear the cracks of her heart. She needed to leave before it shattered. She’d fallen. This extraordinary man in front of her who had the ability to make her feel things she didn’t think was possible - completely free, completely safe - had pulled her under his spell and she needed to get out before she fell further. It was time to stop pretending because she wasn’t free and she wasn’t safe. And if she stayed, Nate wouldn’t be either.

“Stay Libby. Just one more night, please. I’ll protect you,” he whispered.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Nate. I’m leaving so I can protect you.”

“I’m coming to realize that you actually believe that. One more night. You’ll be safe, from whatever it is that you’re running from, I promise.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she admitted.

“Just dinner then. I wanted to take you out tonight. You can bring your gun, that scary knife you have strapped to your thigh...” She couldn’t help but laugh, realizing she hadn’t removed the weapon. “Look, obviously whatever it is, you don’t want to talk about it and you think you need a gun and a knife and whatever else you have in that bag of tricks to keep you safe. But if you stay, maybe I can help you. We can fight whatever or whoever it is, together.” Before she could protest, he continued. “I want you to stay Lib, but if you can’t, at least give me dinner. If you still want to leave after that, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“Just dinner,” she agreed finally. She would leave right after, she decided. She rationalized her decision based on the fact that being in public, blending into the crowd was a safer option than staying home. There were more opportunities to escape, to disappear as if she never existed in the first place. She’d done it so many times before that it came naturally. This was the only time she could remember that regret filled her just thinking about it.

Nate’s fingers wrapped around the back of her neck as he bent down and placed a searing kiss against her lips. She felt emotion prick her eyes. Wrapping her arms around his neck she put every unspoken feeling into the kiss. Nate moved his lips across her cheek and down her jaw.

“You make me crazy, do you know that?” he murmured against her skin between sharp bites down her neck. “I can’t think of anything other than you.”

She whimpered at his words wanting desperately to admit he was her distraction too. How the past few days were the best of her life because he gave her a precious gift - the ability to be herself.

Lifting her so she wrapped her legs around his hips, she felt his fingers grip the straps of the holster at her thigh before he deftly released it, hearing it clatter to the floor. “All I want to do right now is tie you to my bed.”

“So do it.”

Nate pulled back, searching her eyes.

“Do it. Tie me to your bed,” she whispered, leaving the word
forever
silent and hanging between them. The predatory smile that curved his lips caused a flutter of excitement deep in her belly. Still in his arms he stalked toward the bed, gently laying her against the mattress as he straddled her hips before gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Leaving her wrists in the sleeves, she watched Nate’s face as he concentrated on his quick work of the knot she knew he was tying before pulling the rest of the material through the headboard in another. She’d need a new shirt. She lay there with her arms stretched above her head breaching the barrier of comfort. She could see the satisfaction in his eyes as he quickly got rid of her bra and pants. She’d never felt so vulnerable in her life, but she knew she could escape easily if she wanted to. He’d tied her up sufficiently but not rendering her helpless.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to each corner of her mouth. “Okay?” he asked. She nodded her head. “Good.” He moved to stand at the foot of the bed, quickly removing his own clothes before he stared at her for long moments, taking in every inch of her naked body. She forced herself to remain still. The urge to squirm, to move his attention away from her vulnerability, from the flaws that showed on her skin, from the way she felt like her very soul was bare in front of him was overwhelming.  

“God damn that’s pretty.” He stalked over her, pressing his lips against her collarbone, her shoulders, moving down her body slowly making sure no part of her was neglected. He’d found all of her old wounds, making sure to pay special attention to each one. Even though each one of her scars had healed, she could almost feel his kisses taking away the pain of the memories that accompanied them.

“What’s this from?” he murmured, laying a sweet kiss against the scarred skin on her thigh.

“Gunshot,” she breathed, her concentration battling the pleasure that was clouding her brain. He lifted his head, concern taking over his features. She forced a small smile to her lips.

“My life is about running Nate. Usually from the bad guys.” It was the most she had ever admitted to anybody. As his thumb traced the roughened line, long buried memories assailed her. She could still feel the cold of the night, she didn’t know how they had managed to find her, she’d been so careful. Slipping out of the motel window she heard their voices carrying across the howling wind. Gripping the cold, rusty fire escape, she started making her way down when she heard the door to her room crash open. Looking down, she could see the ground covered in a layer of fresh white snow. Sending up a silent prayer she let go of the metal and dropped silently to her feet, swallowing the groan that vibrated through her. Wearing black so she blended into the shadows, the chill in the air worked against her panting breath. Slowing her breathing she started moving through the alley realizing she’d have to scale the fence in front of her. Pulling the gun from the small of her back, she padded through the snow until she reached the dumpster that would aid in her escape. Climbing the big metal box, she winced as the metal groaned beneath her weight. She was straddling the fence when a chilling voice pierced the air.

“Libby.”

She closed her eyes before turning to find one of the men she’d known her entire life as her uncle. Randall stood behind him, an indiscernible look on his face. No one had known he was the one who’d helped her run. She knew he had to save face, to be her father’s first in command and he would do what he had to do, even if it meant bringing her back to whatever compound her father was currently residing in. She also knew he would put every obstacle in the way of her father’s men to help her get away. She watched as he levelled his gun at her.

“I’m getting damn tired of chasing you little girl.” She wanted to laugh at his statement, the obscurity of the moment ridiculous. 

She felt the daring smile curve at her lips. “Guess you better start running faster then, old man.” She moved her body to flip quickly over the fence. She heard her name and the sound of a gun discharging at the same time fire tore through her thigh. Managing to land on her feet she opened her mouth and let out a silent scream. Pulling the knife at her thigh she stabbed it through the material of her shirt, managing to tear off the bottom fabric of her sweater. Hearing footsteps approaching her from the other side of the fence, she quickly fastened a tourniquet to stem the bleeding. Testing her weight on her leg, she bit the inside of her cheek to stop the cry of pain that wanted to escape. Hearing someone start to climb the dumpster behind her, she pushed the pain aside and limped through the snow. Realizing she was leaving a trail of red behind her she manoeuvred herself so she could cover her tracks. Stumbling out of the alley she realized she was on a main street. Flooded with light. It was too late for anything to be open. Recognizing the pub she had been in earlier that evening, she gripped the heavy door handle. Wrenching it open she breathed a sigh of relief to find it wasn’t yet locked. The dim light over the bar illuminated an older, burly man counting the money at the cash register. Reaching behind her she turned the lock, as her eyes watched his every movement. Surprise registered on his face at the same time he noticed the gun in her hand and the knife at her thigh. Resolve hardened his eyes as he reached down, undoubtedly to grab his own weapon. She held up her hands in surrender before silently swiping her gun across her lips telling him to remain quiet. His eyes travelled from her face to her wounded thigh nodding his head slowly. With a nod of her own she turned to face the door, levelling her gun with steady hands. She made everything disappear, the man, the bar, the pain, the emotions and focused solely on her next action - blowing away Carlos’ head. She closed her eyes and counted to three. Immediately she heard his clumsy footsteps followed by the anger in his voice.

“Where the hell is she?” he hollered.

“The blood trail disappeared back in the alley, Carlos.”

“Well she didn’t fucking vanish, now did she? Find her,” he snarled.

Still with her eyes closed, she could hear someone stop in front of the pub door. She could almost feel him. She knew his movements as if they were her own. He was more agile, the stealth in his actions came naturally, so ingrained within him that he knew nothing else. Which is why she immediately realized the little noise he was making was on purpose. Randall. He knew where she was and he undoubtedly knew her gun, the modified deadly weapon he’d given to her, was aimed directly at his head only a few feet away, the only barrier between them a door. He’d made her promise that if it ever came down to it that she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. She’d made the promise. What she didn’t promise was to take the kill shot she knew he’d meant. Hell, she’d shoot him, she’d take out a shoulder or maybe his ass. She’d probably enjoy it, she thought, from all the hell she’d endured through his training. But he’d made her the best. She’d honed her skills to the point Randall was worried he’d taken away her humanity. She was no longer a girl, she was a dangerous weapon.