Spider Game (51 page)

“I’m looking at one,” Trap said, “so yes, I do. Tell us your fucking plan or I’m walking right now.”

Cayenne’s fingers curled around his and then brushed the back of his hand. Slowly. Gently. There was something beautiful to him in her gesture. She wasn’t in the least bit affected by Violet’s vile prejudice. He could sense his teammate’s reactions to Violet’s bigotry. They all loved Pepper and the girls. They were beginning to have affection for Cayenne, and in any case, she was theirs. They looked after their own, and all of them were offended on her behalf. Cayenne remained the calmest of all of them, her gaze on Violet, her hand in Trap’s.

“I want to bring together all the top scientists we have to work on cancer research. I have Whitney’s research.” She sounded triumphant. “Everything he’s compiled over the years. I know you’ve been working on producing some kind of molecules to surround and strangle cancer cells. There are so many breakthroughs happening right now, so many people coming up with ideas, but Whitney’s tried all sorts of experiments. He documented them all. Flame wasn’t the only woman he gave cancer to. She was the only survivor, but his research provides a platform for all of you to start from. It will advance your work by years.”

“Why haven’t you assassinated him yet?” Trap asked.

She swallowed hard. “I can’t do that. There’s no way. It’s impossible.”

Because she’s paired with him. She isn’t strong enough,
Joe said.
Get this over so we can all get the hell out of here.

“You’ll have all the funding you need, Dr. Dawkins, I can guarantee that. You’ll have access to the work of the greatest minds we have in the United States. I know curing cancer is doable. I know absolutely you can do it. You and Dr. Fontenot. When the two of you published your paper on protein and sugar molecules and the possibilities of what they could do to fight cancer, so many other researchers jumped on that. You opened new doors. This platform will ensure that we will win the election. Once I’m in power and I can ferret out everyone who supports him, I can take him down.”

She’s lying,
Cayenne said instantly.

Are you certain?
 

She wants to win the election and she intends to hunt for Whitney’s supporters. There was truth there. She genuinely wants a cure for cancer. That’s truth enough, although her reasons are self-serving. But taking down Whitney was a lie. I think she wants power over him, but she doesn’t intend to destroy him. More, she is involved with others, people in power, I can feel their influence on her, ones who would destroy Whitney’s GhostWalker program. Others who have her same prejudice.
 

Cayenne,
Joe broke in.
Are you absolutely certain she’s lying about destroying him? Absolutely, without a doubt, certain.

Yes.
There was no hesitation on Cayenne’s part.
Her voice changes pitch when she’s lying. I can hear the difference. Also, there are changes in her body, physical changes that are so minute, you can’t see them, but I feel them.

Trap, tell her that you’ll think about it. The idea of seeing Whitney’s research is certainly intriguing,
Joe said.
And then get out of there. This is turning my stomach.

“I can’t pretend the idea of seeing Whitney’s work isn’t huge,” Wyatt said, when Trap remained silent. “We’ve worked on various ideas for curing cancer, but his work might really advance ours by years, Trap. If she can bring other researchers together, and we have more funding, we really might be able to make this happen.”

Trap pulled Cayenne up and turned his back on Violet as he strode toward the door. “We’re in, but there better not be any more attacks on our families.” He turned his head and pinned Violet with his ice-cold gaze. “You’d better fucking hear what I’m saying to you, bitch. I’ll kill you. If I don’t get you, one of the others will. In case you don’t believe me, you remember what happened in this room, and right now, you have a fucking phantom behind you who could snap your worthless neck in seconds.”

Gino emerged behind her, his arm dropping and then locking around her neck.

“Right now, this moment, you’re one second from death.” Trap paused to allow her predicament to fully sink in. She’d all but forgotten Gino was in the room. He’d been too still, too quiet, fading into the background. She had no idea when he’d come up behind her, because she hadn’t heard him – or smelled him – or felt him and she had a built-in radar for trouble. “You will have every GhostWalker from every team coming at you, not Whitney, if there’s an attack on any GhostWalker again. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? It won’t matter that you’re the vice president or the president. No one, nothing will protect you from us.”

Gino let her go and moved away from her, not even looking at her when she turned her head toward him. She touched her neck with shaky fingers. “I can’t control Whitney. You know I can’t.”

“True, but you can warn us. You can get word to us when he’s up to something,” Wyatt pointed out. He was already walking to the door, following Trap.

Trap yanked open the door. “Pull yourself together, Senator, you’ve got bullshit speeches to make. Go ahead and tell the others Wyatt and I are in. That ought to buy you a lot of funding.”

He tightened his arm around Cayenne and swept through the door, taking her with him. Stalking across the room, he didn’t look right or left. His face was a mask of indifference. He appeared totally aloof. Cameras were on him, people greeted him, and he kept moving, never changing expression, never answering anyone.

Trap said nothing at all as the limousine took them through the darkened streets to the airport. Cayenne didn’t feel much like talking either. Being in close proximity to Violet left her shaken. She’d been surrounded, from the day she’d been born, with cruelty. Viciousness. There was an oily feel to the aura surrounding the person that made her sick to her stomach.

Violet wasn’t vicious, but she was deceitful and selfish, capable of great cruelty. She was capable of only accepting what she wanted as her reality. She couldn’t see anyone else’s point of view. She believed in her own greatness and believed that it was perfectly okay for her to remove anything or anyone that got in her way. Her aversion to Cayenne was deep-seated, as was her revulsion of Wyatt’s daughters and his wife.

They’d been in the city three days preparing for their meeting with the senator. Both she and Trap were used to spending long days alone. Although they’d stayed in the penthouse, the team was often with them. When they went out they were surrounded. Sometimes Cayenne felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and she knew it had to be the same for Trap.

They’d given his uncles several opportunities to make their try, appearing often in public. Those times, the underlying tension had been terrible, but the uncles hadn’t shown up. Trap’s mood had gone from bad to just plain foul. She couldn’t blame him. He’d geared himself up to face the men who had helped to destroy his entire family and in the end had taken his last happiness from him. They’d changed the entire course of his life, and still, they were somewhere, hidden by the very money he’d given them for his aunt’s safe release.

At the airport, Ryland’s team boarded their private plane for home. She liked them all, especially Flame and Gator, and actually hugged them before waving as the two teams split. She waited until they were in the air before she went into the large, well-appointed bathroom to change out of her evening dress. The silk slithered to the floor to pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her panties. Every time she’d moved in that silk, her body had come alive with need for Trap.

She stretched and reached back to braid the long thick hair, needing to get it out of her face. She pulled on her soft, vintage jeans, her favorite pair, the ones Trap had bought her that fit like a glove. It felt good to become her again. She loved the dress and even the one dance she’d had with Trap, but she much preferred the swamp and their enormous, ridiculous home.

She pulled a T-shirt over her head, going without a bra. She much preferred to be naked, but that wouldn’t do until they got home. In the meantime, she was going for comfortable. She would put her shoes on later – much later – after the flight. Right now, she wanted to sleep. To get her mind as far as possible from Violet and the things she’d admitted.

Cayenne began to make her way back to her seat where Trap waited. The plane hit turbulence, shifting in the air. Bumping. Her heart jumped. She wasn’t used to flying, and it was a little frightening to have the airplane, so high in the sky, jolting like it might go down any moment.

The next lurch sent her sprawling forward. Malichai caught her, grinning at her with his devilish smirk. “Falling into my arms
again
, woman? I know you find me pretty, but seriously, Cai, I’m not for sale.” He winked at her, his white teeth flashing even as his hands steadied her.

“You’re breaking my heart.”

He didn’t let her go and when the next bump came, it flung her forward so that she fell almost in his lap. He pulled her into his lap, holding her steady while the plane dipped and shuddered.

“You aren’t afraid, are you?” He kept his voice low.

She was grateful for the consideration, even though everyone on the plane had acute hearing and probably, now, all of them were aware her heart pounded like crazy. She swallowed hard and glanced across the plane where Trap sat. His eyes were on her, all that ice making her shiver. Glacier-cold. But beneath the ice she saw that blue flame, the one that burned so cold it was hot. He looked – furious.

“I’m a little afraid. I don’t like flying,” she admitted. She pushed out of his lap and stood in the wide aisle, holding on to the back of his chair. “I just want this over.”

She made her way to Trap, hanging on to each of the chairs as she went. When she neared him, his hand snaked out, settled around her wrist, and he all but yanked her into her seat.

Cai? Since when does he call you Cai?
 

She frowned at him and subtly moved her wrist in the hopes that he’d release her. He didn’t.
He doesn’t call me that. At least he never has before.

She closed her eyes, determined to ignore his foul temper. She was tired. Exhausted. Sick to her stomach thanks to the turbulence and he wasn’t helping. She didn’t like the city any more than he did. More, she didn’t like being in public
at all.
She was trying to be friendly to his team members because they were his friends. She stopped trying to take her hand back and forced herself to relax.

You aren’t wearing a bra. You like rubbing your breasts all over him?
 

What are you talking about?
Trap, it seemed, was spoiling for a fight. She was too exhausted to rise to the bait, so she pressed her lips together and kept her eyes closed.

“Hey, Cayenne.” Malichai made his way up the aisle to drop into the seat opposite her, next to his brother Mordichai. “Can you tie just anyone up with that silk of yours?”

Her heart jumped. She opened her eyes and regarded his teasing grin. It was open. Friendly. Genuinely interested, but more, something she couldn’t quite read at first – a kind of camaraderie – because she’d never had it directed at her before. The others moved closer as well, changing seats until the attention was directly on her. She
hated
that. She glanced up at Trap for some direction, but he gave her none, staring impassively straight ahead.

What did women do when they found themselves the complete center of attention? These men worked with Trap. They were his friends. She wanted to fit in, to become part of their team. She knew it was important they accept her. Still, her silks were private. A part of her she didn’t reveal ever to others if she could help it. She didn’t see the silk as a weapon. It was her art. The beautiful part of her existence when she was alone in her cell. Her silk kept her safe.

More, it had been the silk her tormenters had tried to rip from her by force. The pain had been excruciating. Trap’s teammates couldn’t know that and she didn’t want to enlighten them, so she said nothing.

“Leave her alone,” Trap said unexpectedly, coming to her rescue.

The relief was tremendous, but when she looked up at his face, his sculpted masculine features were completely devoid of feeling.

“I’m with Malichai,” Draden said. “I’d like to see what you can do. You managed to get the drop on Trap once. Have you done it again?”

“Maybe tied him up a time or two?” Malichai suggested, with a teasing leer.

She tried to control the blush moving up her body into her neck. She squirmed, forcing down the memory of her mouth and hands on Trap’s body for the first time.

“Could you tie me up?” Malichai persisted. “I think I’d like that.”

The men burst out laughing, and several had comments to make ribbing Malichai about needing a dominatrix in his life.

“Do it, Cayenne,” Draden urged. “Wrap him up in silk.”

She moistened her suddenly dry lips. She had no experience to draw on. They were all joking, teasing Malichai. Really, it was more about him than her, although they were all curious.

“I read spiders have seven different types of silk,” Mordichai said. “Use the kind on my brother that will make it difficult for him to get free. Tie him to the chair.”

The others burst out laughing at the idea and urged her to do it. Heart hammering, she lifted a hand toward Malichai. Trap’s hand hit hers so hard she actually felt the sting and then his fingers were clamped tight around her wrist and he jerked her hand into his lap.

That’s mine. It belongs to me, not them.
Icicles dripped from his voice.
You fucking never give that to another man.

What am I supposed to do?
She genuinely didn’t know.

You say no.
 

Sometimes the intensity of Trap’s moods wore on Cayenne. She had spent long periods of time alone without the constant bombardment of energy swirling around her before she’d ever met him. Now she felt overwhelmed by every new experience. She felt vulnerable and off balance. She didn’t know how to act and couldn’t seem to find a way to breathe without taking in Trap’s ice.