Save Me If You Can (3 page)

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Authors: Christina C Jones

BOOK: Save Me If You Can
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When he was done, he’d pulled her into him and kissed her like he was going off to war. And hell… he
was
, fooling around with a man like Wolfe, who could afford a small army at his disposal. What he was doing wasn’t a practice run. It was serious, real,
danger
, and… he was willing to expose himself to it for her.

God
, she loved this man.

Her bare footsteps on the carpeted floor didn’t make him flinch or open his eyes. She almost hesitated to touch him, in case he was finally catching a few moments of sleep, which over the last twenty-four hours, had been increasingly hard to come by. She was careful as she eased down beside him, gently resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. A moment later, she smiled as he pulled her closer and wrapped her in his arms.

“Thank you for coming to rescue me, cher,” he muttered against her ear, just before he placed a kiss on the side of her neck. “Emotional teenaged girls are
far
outside of my skillset.”

Unable to help it, Renata giggled, then turned her face up to meet his gaze. In the midst of the heaviness of the last several months, and
especially
the last few days, the glint of humor in his eyes was such a welcome distraction it brought a lump to her throat. Before any tears could fall, she nuzzled her face against him, smothering herself in the soft cotton of his tee shirt. Ignoring the lingering pain that still nagged her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight, even as he shifted their position to pull her into his lap.

He placed a hand to her face, cupping it gently before his fingers slid under her chin. She tipped her head back, welcoming his lips to touch hers in a deep, unhurried kiss that was just enough to make her want to climb into
his
bed.

But she needed to get back to Taylor.

Quentin must have recognized that too, because despite the bulge growing insistently harder against her leg, he pulled away from the kiss, then pressed his lips to the top of her head. “How are you doing?”

She opened her mouth to say she was fine, then stopped herself.
Fine
wasn’t really an accurate description of the emotional turmoil she felt. She was thrilled to have Taylor safely back in her presence. Overjoyed that none of her friends had to put themselves in danger to make it happen. But she was also terrified.

There were too many unanswered questions to feel at ease. Where was Damien Wolfe now? Had he
really
died in that explosion? And for that matter, where was Terry King, who’d somehow slipped away from the surveillance on his house, and was in the wind now. Did he know where they were too? Instead of speaking, she burrowed her face against Quentin’s neck, and he took that as her answer.

He squeezed her tighter, rubbing his fingers in an absent trail on her back. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,
chérie
,” he whispered into her braids, making her scalp tingle with warmth. “You
or
Taylor. Waited too long. Been too patient.” He shifted positions yet again, this time to cup her face with both hands, so she could look at him as he spoke.

The trace of humor was gone from his eyes, replaced with cold determination, and underneath
that
, something much warmer.

“Wolfe took someone I loved
once
, when I was kid. He won’t survive trying that shit with me again. You understand?”

Renata nodded, then closed her eyes to the soft brush of his lips on hers. She moaned a little as his tongue slid into her mouth with authority, like he was putting more emphasis on his words. Most times, logic would have ruled over the emotional, reminding her that “
I’m not gonna let anything happen to you
” was an impossible promise. But the way Quentin kissed her, with all of him, with everything, like he wanted to leave no doubt that he
absolutely
had the power to assure such a thing… she decided to believe him.

She pushed away doubt, and fear, and the uncertainty of what was happening around them to succumb to his kiss. There would be time again for all of that later.

 

Three.

Thump. Smack.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

Thump.

Each connection between Inez’s fist and the thick leather of the heavy bag made a sound that resonated through the empty gym.

This was solace, this was peace, this was… really
Naomi’s
thing, but Inez now understood why her friend used boxing as an outlet.

It was pretty damned cathartic, releasing the tension that lay heavy on her shoulders into something that couldn’t fight back or resist. The punching bag just had to take it, and Inez had plenty of “it” to give.

She wasn’t pissed off. It was more like she felt… cheated. One moment, she was suiting up to kick ass, perform a reverse abduction, maybe get a chance to pull a trigger against a live target. The next moment, that opportunity was robbed from her by the arrival of Harrison, who’d somehow managed to take three bullets to the leg and then ride right into her private, supposedly secure compound, with Damien Wolfe’s kids in tow.

So maybe she
was
a little pissed.

At Harrison.

Smack.

At Wolfe.

Smack.

And at Savi, who was currently standing in the way of them getting some much-needed answers.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

Inez had known Savi long enough, trusted her deeply enough that she believed her when she said she wanted to let Harrison get some rest. The “doctor” in Savi ran deep, and there was a certain sense of duty that came with that. Inez could buy the argument that she wanted to give Harrison time to recover from the surgery she’d performed to remove the bullets and patch him up. Well… maybe not
recover
, but certainly get a few hours of rest before they bombarded him with questions.

But it wasn’t “just” that.

The slight hitch in Savi’s voice as she made her plea for Harrison to be left alone wasn’t exhaustion, like Inez had dismissed it as before. It wasn’t annoyance at having her methods questioned, it wasn’t charitable pity, or even simple human decency.

It was desperation.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

Inez had to proceed carefully.  First, because she considered Savi a friend. Inez wasn’t a big fan of jumping to harmful, unnecessary conclusions, but she wasn’t stupid either. If Savi knew Harrison, that was a link to Damien Wolfe that was as direct as it got. The team –
all of them –
had been pretty lax on security around Savi because they considered her an ally, but what if that really wasn’t the case?

Smack. Thump. Smack.

Second reason to move forward with caution; Savi was a helluva lot more dangerous than she looked. Many times, Inez had put her life in Savannah’s hands, without a second thought. She had a heart of gold, sure, but it came with a switch, and Inez had seen what happened when that switch was in the
off
position. Killer face, killer body, and a killer instinct that could make your blood run cold.

Inez shivered now, as the hairs on the back of her raised. She whipped around, turning to see the object of her thoughts standing behind her, silent and disconcerting in the semi-darkness. Moving only enough to swallow the heavy lump in her throat, Inez raked her eyes over Savi’s face, noting the glossy redness of her eyes, even though the remainder of her expression was unnaturally calm.

As if it were being beckoned, her gaze dropped to the tension in Savi’s toned arm, and she followed the path down to her hand. “I need to talk to you.” The polished steel of the gun in her grip glittered, happily reflecting the dim lights. She lifted the weapon, and Inez was already moving, prepared to take Savi’s head off her body with a well-placed kick.

But… Savi was holding the gun out by the handle, with the barrel facing herself.

Huh.

Still on guard, Inez lowered her foot. She looked at Savi for a long moment, trying to see past her inscrutable expression before she finally, carefully, accepted the gun.

It was a peace gesture, she knew.  And that’s all it was – a gesture. They both knew the gun wasn’t the only weapon Savi had, and they both knew that if it came down to a fight, no weapon was needed.

But the message was clear.

Inez tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants, then lifted her hands, welcoming Savi to speak her mind. The other woman swallowed hard, obviously uncomfortable with what she had to say.

“First of all, just as an FYI, I’ve locked Harrison into the medical center,” –
So what?
Inez thought. It was
her
house, she had keys. “With my electromagnetic locks. Nobody is getting in or out of there until I say.”

Inez folded her arms, scowling at her – maybe soon to be former – friend. “So you’ve put yourself in charge of my house now?”

“Not at all,” Savi shook her head. “I don’t mean any disrespect by it. I just saw it as a necessary precaution. For Harrison’s safety.”

Running her tongue over her teeth, Inez nodded. “I see. So what is it you need to talk to me about?”

“It’s…” she pushed out a heavy sigh. “It’s about Harrison. I intentionally don’t know many details about whatever is happening here tonight. But I want to make it clear, whether you believe me or not, that I’ve not been in contact with him until tonight. I haven’t relayed anything, haven’t dropped a hint, sent a smoke signal, nothing. I don’t know
anything
about whatever you are all so upset with him about.”

For a long moment, there was quiet between the two women. Outwardly, Inez made sure she gave off the air that she was unconvinced, but she
knew
Savi. Well, she knew her character, at least. The Savannah she knew was disgusted by people like Damien Wolfe, had gleefully hunted and taken their lives. So… hmmm.

“How do you know him?” Inez asked, unfolding her arms. She walked across the room, taking a seat on the end of the weight bench while she waited on an answer.

Savi shook her head. “I can’t tell you that, Inez.”

Inez lifted an eyebrow. “You
can’t
, or you
won’t
?” She speared Savi with a glare, hoping it wouldn’t take more than that to get the other woman to spill what she knew.

They both knew better. Savi met Inez’s glare with one of her own, not backing down. “Both
.

Inez was back across the room in a flash, right in Savi’s face. “Where the fuck do you think you are,
amiguita
? You might wanna assess your situation a little better before you refuse to answer something, yeah?”

“I know exactly where I am,
chiquita
. If I had something else to say that mattered, something you needed to know, I would tell you. Other than that, no comment.”

Inez smirked at first, then let it spread into a full-on smile until she dropped her voice into an unpleasant, malicious tone to respond.  “Okay. We’ll just ask Harrison. I’m sure that between us, we can find some creative ways to get information out of him. And when we’re done, we’ll send you the remains.”

The change in Savi was instant. One moment, she was contrite, and seeking understanding for her position. The next, her eyes were cold, nostrils flared, and Inez was sure that if she looked down, her fists would be clenched at her sides.

“If
one
person,” Savi said, her words perfectly clear, though her tone was edged barely-restrained rage, “touches Harrison to do him harm, I will burn this fucking place to the ground with all of you in it, and watch the flesh melt off your bones.”

“I’m giving you a hundred goddamn miles of leeway right now, Sav,” Inez warned. “Taking you at your word that you haven’t been funneling information to Damien Wolfe. And you’re gonna stand in my face, in
my
house and threaten me?”

“I’m not threatening you, Inez. I’m
telling
you. If Harrison is harmed, somebody in here is going to have to answer to me, and they’re not going to have a very good quality of life after I’m finished with them.”

“He’s no angel.”

Savi shook her head. “I never said he was. He’s never claimed to be. Ask your questions, get your answers, fine. But I said what I said, and I meant it.”

Inez narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. “Who
is
he to you, Savi? What the fuc—”

The sound of heavy footsteps in the room drew their attention away from each other, and onto Kendall, who strode up to them with the same powerful presence of a panther. He’d mostly changed out of his sleek, matte black Special Ops gear – a sight that’d made Inez a little giddy – and was now in just a white ribbed tank and black on black camo pants with his heavy black boots… a sight that
also
made Inez giddy. She allowed her gaze to sweep over Ken, taking in deep mahogany skin, handsome, chiseled features, broad shoulders, thick biceps, and a whole lot of other things that made her mouth water when she saw him.

Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze away from Kendall and turned back to her friend. The muscles in Savi’s arms were taut and ready for action, and her hand was dangerously close to her waistband.  Clearing her throat, Inez pulled Savi’s gun from her pants, extending it back to her in the same way she’d received it – the handle toward Savi, with the barrel facing herself.

“We’ll talk again later,” she said, meeting Savi’s eyes with a nod. Inez had no real interest in doing Harrison any harm, she just wanted answers, and didn’t appreciate being the subject of intimidation. They held each other’s gazes for a moment, passing the private message that they were on the same page –
If you don’t fuck anything up, I won’t either.

Savi returned her nod, took the gun. Tucked it back into her waist, and when she looked up, her eyes were warm again… and apologetic. “He called me,” Savi said, in a low voice, meant only for Inez. “We hadn’t spoken for years, but he called me, said he was hurt, and needed help. He trusted me, Nez. So I had to trust him. I’m sorry.”

But, Inez didn’t need an apology. Hell, she would probably act the same way, if someone she love—

Huh.

Yeah… that was it. That was
exactly
it, the thing that explained the fierce protectiveness Savi had just displayed. In a rare, extremely drunk moment of weakness, several years back, Savi had sobbed on Inez’s shoulder about a guy who’d cut off contact with her, which had broken her heart. But how could a woman like Savi, who reviled men like Damien Wolfe, love a man who worked for Wolfe, and helped to facilitate his crimes? Unless she didn’t know who he worked for. And the only way a CIA agent would
not
know was if they didn’t
want
to know, and the only way they wouldn’t
want
to know was if…

Inez smiled.

Savi was telling a lot more than she realized.

The two exchanged a final nod before they separated, and Savi headed out, leaving Inez and Kendall alone in the room. Inez adjusted her fingerless gloves, turning back to the heavy bag to dole out more hits – this time, triumphant ones.

“What was that about?” Kendall asked, standing far enough that he wasn’t obstructing her movement, but close enough that Inez could feel the heat from his body behind her.

She muttered a breathless, “Not sure yet”, then continued hitting the bag. Not that she didn’t trust Kendall, but she didn’t want to put out an unsubstantiated claim. She needed a bit more before she shared.

She needed to talk to Harrison.

“What’s up?” She tossed Kendall a backward glance as she stepped away from the bag. “Did you need something?”

He shrugged. “I was just thinking… there’s nothing more we can really do tonight. A few hours before we’re supposed to move out. We’re supposed to all be in bed.”

Inez shook her head, then took a step back toward the bag, throwing jabs.

Thump. Thump. Smack.

“I’m not tired.”

Thump. Thump. Smack.

“Good.”

Inez squealed, and nearly crawled out of her skin with pleasure as Kendall snaked his arms around her, pulling her tight against his strong body and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. He nipped her – one, two, three bites – then soothed her sensitive skin with his lips. “I’m glad to hear you’re not tired,” he rasped against her ear, and she squirmed as he slid a hand under the waistband of her pants. “But that’s even more reason to come to bed. You’ll need plenty of energy for what I have in mind.”

 

&

Nine Years Ago… São
Paulo, Brazil

 

Savi didn’t particularly like Samba music.

Inez, on the other hand, did, and she’d done a good job today, so she got to choose the after work event. They needed this fun after a task that could have gone spectacularly bad.

A task that
almost
went bad.

It was neither of their faults that their target had almost slipped away, in pursuit of a fat ass and a pretty face. Some men were just like that, easily distracted by the possibility of willingly spread legs. A curse, because it took him off the path they’d built their plan around. A gift, because it was easy to lure him back.

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