Until It's You (15 page)

“It’s over, Kristina. You don't have to worry about it anymore.”

“It could have been so much worse.”

“But it wasn’t.”

She swallowed hard. He was right and it did not make it any easier to accept. Sometimes life could be that way.

She turned from him and looked down at her younger brother’s still, pudgy face. Thank goodness things hadn’t turned out worse.

“What were you two doing, anyway?” she asked, not taking her eyes away from Tom’s face but desperate to move on. “Why were you in a Recall?”

“I was checking up on one of my meetings with Fordelli. Tom and I had already finished up with analyzing that pharm.”

She looked up and studied Landon's face. “Finished up? What do you mean, finished up?”

“Yes. It...doesn’t work. On the back end.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t work? I was hallucinating. I
know
that.”

“You were. That part works. Front end. I think they probably got that from Agent Smith, if I had to guess. Maybe they tried to deconstruct it, because the mechanism is nearly identical. But the deployment of the desire enhancer on the back end is a dud.”

She blinked, trying to catch up. “How do you know?”

He hesitated, but only for a moment. “Because I design these things and I know,” he said patiently. “The way they synthesized the pharm on that side is just wrong. It’s not going to hit the right receptors when they use that ratio, it all gets lost in the blood stream.” He seemed to see her blank look and smiled ruefully. “Just trust me.”

Kristina shook her head slowly, her mind swirling. What was he saying? Was this...was he telling her that her mind...what?

“I...this is a lot to process,” she said.

“Of course. I just think you should know.”

Kristina studied him closely, watching his sharp, dark eyes for any hint of a lie. Not that he would lie about this. Right? But she had been feeling something so foreign, and now she was being told that even if it
felt
foreign, it wasn’t.

“You’re sure you haven’t made a mistake?” she asked, knowing the answer.

He gazed at her levelly. “I’m sure.”

“But I mean, everyone can make a mistake.”

“That’s true," he said, his voice still calm. "But you can ask your brother when he wakes up. The mistake they made with the pharm is pretty stark once you see it.”

She looked at him skeptically.

He shrugged and gave her a boyish, half-apologetic look that seemed so wrong on his face. "It's science, really."

She took a deep breath. This was totally outside her expertise. There was no point in arguing.

“So what does it mean?” she asked.

Did he lean closer? It felt like he leaned closer. Blood rushed up to her face. The butterflies in her stomach all decided to flutter in sync so that it seemed she was floating.

“Between finding your brother and this,” Landon said slowly, his voice low. “I would say that’s up to you.”

She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. Landon’s thin lips seemed to be calling her to, and she clenched her fists, desperate to get away from their gravity. Her brother was right behind them on the bed! Even if he was unconscious.

“Well, look at you!”

She froze, and the fire inside her was doused. That was Kevin.

She spun around to look at the doorway. He wasn't there. Her shoulders sagged in relief.

He was in the other room. So who was he talking to?

“Looks like we’re going to have ourselves a good time, aren’t we?” Kevin continued.

The man on the floor! Roy. He had woken up.

She looked up into Landon’s face. He seemed to have figured it out at the same time she did, because he led the way out of the bedroom and into the main living area. This could be bad.

When they both got there, she saw Kevin with an empty glass in his hand. Roy's face was dripping with water, his short dark hair matted to his scalp. So this was who Kevin was talking to.

Now he was crouched down on the cherry wood floor in front of him, his weight up on the balls of his feet. The room's bland white walls felt like they were closing in on all of them. Kristina felt nerves through her whole body.

She had seen him like this before, and she hated it. It was about to get nasty. Resigned, she took up a spot within two steps of Kevin. From this position, she could jump in if she really needed to and pull her brother off the downed man. Restraint was not one of Kevin's best qualities.

Landon positioned himself between her and her brother. She gave him a look, then motioned with her chin toward their problem. Landon nodded. His wide eyes showed he was on edge. 

“So, you like it down there?” Kevin asked, his voice artificially sweet. “Feeling good and comfy?”

Roy looked up at him but said nothing.

“I have better spots I can think of for you, chump. Trust me.” He jerked his head over toward Kristina, then turned back. “You want to move somewhere a little more private? I think she might be starting to feel sorry for you. I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“The fuck do you want?” Roy said wearily.

“Oh! You’re talking. The first thing I actually wanted from you was to hear you talk. So far you're doing great!” He looked over his shoulder toward the bedroom, then sneered and looked hard at Roy. “The next thing I want to know is why the
fuck
you put a couple of darts in my brother.”

Roy sighed, more weary than scared. “Orders, Andersen. You know about that.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me you fucking hood."

“Fine. I did it because I wanted the money and I didn't give a fuck what I had to do to get it. Same as a lot of people.”

Kevin snorted. He looked up at Kristina and she could see the madness in his eyes. Turned back down. "Well, you're an honest son of a bitch, I'll give you that. Who's paying?"

“I don't know. I do the job and I get paid.”

Kevin took a step forward. Kristina shuffled toward him slightly, keeping close in case she had to try and hold him back. Not that she was strong enough to do that, but he wouldn't hurt her.

“Are you more attached to your boss or your kneecaps?” Kevin spat.

“I don’t fucking know who it is," Roy said. His eyes flashed with something like fear. "Okay? I deal with an intermediary.”

“Intermediary, huh? That’s a big word for a guy like you. Who taught you to say that?”

A deep breath. “Fuck you.”

With a quick jerk, Kevin hit him with an open hand hard across the face. The muted clap of the impact made Kristina flinch, but she refused to close her eyes. She could tell Kevin had actually let up on the slap so as not to break anything. Needed to not leave too many marks if he had to turn Roy over to the police.

Still, though, blood was coming from Roy’s mouth. Kevin’s head snapped to Kristina. “Can you get him a towel, Kris? I don’t want this fucker’s blood all over the floor.”

Kristina swallowed hard and walked to the kitchen. A lot of this was for show, as nasty as it looked. The question was whether Roy knew that too.

She got to the kitchen and looked around. There were no towels hanging anywhere in the kitchen. She opened one drawer then another, looking for where Landon might have decided to stash his kitchen towels. He
had
bought kitchen towels, hadn’t he?

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself. “Where are they?”

Suddenly she became aware he was behind her. It was a quick thing, like a delay in processing information her conscious mind had half-known it was receiving. There were footsteps and then he was there, the enormity of his presence behind her like a second sun.

She spun to face him. “Well?” she asked, her hand on her hip. “Where are the kitchen towels?

Landon’s brows shot up innocently. “You mean paper towels?”

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“Just bring over a roll. He can’t be bleeding that badly. It was only a slap.”

She scanned the granite-patterned laminate countertop, found the paper towel, and took it in her hand before turning to go back to the living room. Landon grabbed her by her upper arm and leaned close.

“He’s not actually going to kneecap the guy," he whispered. "Is he?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so," she said, keeping her own voice low. "He’s very upset about Tom, though.”

“So maybe?”

“I think he would rather hand him over to the cops. We need to do that soon anyway, to be honest. Kevin has a security license and everything but the cops need to get involved soon with a break-in like this. They are sensitive about vigilantes after all the shit in the twenties.”

Landon nodded. Nobody liked to talk about the city in the twenties. It had been ugly. “Right. How long do we have?”

“I would have to ask Anna," she said with a shrug. "Probably not long, to be honest. Definitely have to take him in within twenty-four hours.”

“Assuming we turn him in at all.”

Her fists clenched, and she met his dark eyes. “Yes. Kevin’s killed people, but he’s not a murderer.”

“Does Roy know that?”

“I don't know," she said honestly. "Let's hope not."

Landon nodded, and she eased past him and out of the kitchen and into the main living area. Kevin and Roy were staring silently at each other, with Kevin's mouth in a hard line.

She handed the paper towels to Kevin. He looked at Landon briefly, then turned back to Roy.

“Looks like paper towels will have to be good enough for you,” Kevin said.

He ripped some off and put the wad roughly to Roy’s face, soaking up the blood. Roy looked up at him, his eyes hard.

“I have an ID I can call,” Roy said. “That’s my intermediary.”

“You have an ID you can call,” Kevin said steadily. “What is this, the voice of god? How do you trust it?”

“Listen, what the fuck do I get from you for cooperating? You going to turn me over to the cops or shoot me?” He spit blood out onto the hardwood. “Or do you plan on hitting me with my hands tied behind my back until I fucking die?”

“If you talk to me I might hit you less than if you don't.”

He spat on the floor again. “Sure. I have nothing useful for you, pal. I’m sorry. That’s how the boss keeps things nice and neat. You gotta find a bigger fish than me to get anything.”

“The boss who you don’t know?”

“Yeah. The boss who is dangerous as fucking hell.”

Kevin looked over at Kristina, then his eyes seemed to fixate on the blood on the ground. Then, in a flash, a tranq dart was in his hand. He stabbed it into Roy's shoulder. Within seconds, Roy was unconscious again.

With Roy unconscious, Kevin looked between the two of them. “I’m giving it twenty-four hours to try and get him to talk before we turn him in. I think this could be a bit of a bitch to get out, so I’m taking him to a safe house my security company keeps for some extra attention.”

Landon cleared his throat. “Extra attention as in what, exactly?”

“Nothing you should know about.” He motioned toward Roy on the ground. “Give me some help getting this guy into my car, okay? I’ll pull it up.”

“Won’t that look suspicious?”

“We’ll untie him and make him look drunk. Kris can watch out. If we end up fucked, then I’ll take the rap with my security license. Don’t worry about it.”

Landon looked to Kristina, who looked back at him blankly. It was hard to believe this was all actually happening. But eventually, Landon turned back to Kevin and gave him a short nod.

Kristina put her face into her hands and looked toward the bedroom, where Tom still wasn’t awake. Reluctantly, she went to the door to play her part.

There was nothing else to do. There was never anything else to do, really.

Landon had never had to move an unconscious man into a car. He’d never had to think about what was about to happen to that man once he was taken to another location to be worked over. Never had to think about how a woman would react to her brother doing that. Never had to worry that he was painfully attracted to that woman.

But there was a first time for everything. As he opened the door for Kristina and followed her into the apartment, he reflected on what had happened.

They’d taken Roy into Kevin's car, Roy stumbling so his feet were only occasionally touching the ground. Kristina kept watch a little ways down the sidewalk, her face calm. Had she done this before? It seemed like she had done this before.

Once they had gotten him in, Kevin had driven off with a grim expression. It was matched by his sister. Tom was still asleep in the bedroom when they came back into the apartment.

After checking on Tom, Kristina disappeared into the kitchen. Landon followed her.

“Think he’ll get Roy to talk?” he asked.

She sighed and shook her head, her gray hair shaking at her shoulders. “I don’t know how much the guy knows. I doubt he’s going to tell us who the mastermind behind this whole operation is either way.”

“Don’t think he knows?”

She opened up one cupboard, then another. “I doubt it," she said, fatigue in her voice. "It seems like whoever it is has access to enough muscle to not send one of their top people directly into a safe house.”

“So we keep working.”

She rubbed her eyes again, then closed the last cupboard and slumped against the fridge. “We keep working.”

She was exhausted, he knew. It had been one thing then another for her for a couple days without any letup. For him, either, but his fatigue didn’t bother him as much as seeing it on her.

“We should eat first,” he said, stepping toward her. “Or at the very least, you need to eat first. You look about ready to fall over.”

“When is the last time you had anything?” she said.

He shook his head. “I don’t remember. It’s been a while. I’ll be fine, though. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I can handle myself.”

But she looked like she was ready to drop. He studied her. Watched her shoulders slump against the fridge as she faced him, her dyed-gray hair around her face in strands. She felt awful about what had just happened, he knew, and he needed to help her rejuvenate. At least for a little while. The work would still be there if they took a small break.

“Let’s both handle ourselves and get some food," he said. "There’s a diner not far from here that should be fast, and I think we’re both hungry enough that it will taste great.”

Immediately, she brightened. “You? At a greasy spoon?”

“I’m nobody right now,” he said with a shrug. This was encouraging. “And so what if I have a weakness for diner food?"

“Is that the reason for the omelets?”

“If I wanted an omelet, you know I could make one. Man cannot survive on omelets alone, though.”

“I am pretty hungry,” she said. Then her eyes went to the bedroom and Landon started coming up with a Plan B. “But I’m not leaving my brother alone.”

His heart fell. He'd known it from the moment he saw her eyes go to the bedroom.

For a moment, he had felt the beginning of his stress unwinding. Of both of them unwinding. But there was a reason they were wound so tight.

“Of course not," he said, scrambling. "My mistake.”

"It's okay. Maybe one of us can make a run to 7-11 and get something frozen"

Landon ran his hand through his short hair.  “No, let's just get delivery."

She shook her head. “I think my credit account is almost up on this pre-paid.”

He stepped toward her. “It's okay, I'll get it. I bought some pre-paid cards at the 7-11 after running from The Velvet.”

Her brows arched up, a  hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You went straight from The Velvet to 7-11?”

“Pretty much," he said with a shrug. "Wouldn't be the first time someone did that, right?"

She stared at him for a moment, then broke down into giggles. Seeing her laughter made his chest swell, and soon he was smiling as well. Here was another spot of unwinding. It felt so good. 

"Sorry," she said, once she had recovered. "I was just picturing you in a group of the guys typically at those clubs, making a quick stop at 7-11 before they go home to jack off or whatever else. It was too funny."

"It wasn't quite that bad," he said. "Anyway, the point is I can pay. And I'm buying. What do you want?"

The smile left her face and she stared at a spot on the wall for a moment, thinking. “I still don’t like the idea of a driver coming here," she said, returning her blue eyes to his. "The address on record, I mean. Someone could look it up.”

“Then we have them deliver to the corner. People do this all the time when they're out drinking."

"Jeez, you're really familiar with this."

"Enough to know how it's done. Come on, this is easy. You know the delivery cars don't care."

Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. "That's true."

"So what do you want?”

Finally, she threw her hands up. “Screw it. Get me fries and a diner burger with whatever on it, so long as it's greasy. I'm starving."

He pulled his comm out with a laugh, happy he'd broken through. “You got it."

***

While Landon got to work on ordering food for the two of them, Kristina went back into the bedroom to check on Tom. He was still out cold, but breathing easily and with a normal pulse. Nothing to worry about.

Landon was another story. Sometimes he was funny and engaging. Others he was infuriating with his insistence on control even when this was her area of expertise. He was not her type. She was not the kind of girl guys like him wanted.

And yet every square inch of her skin wanted him. Wanted his touch. Badly. And he made no bones about wanting her.

So why was she so hesitant?

She didn't understand it. No matter how much she understood it intellectually, she would not
believe
that what she was feeling was not some pharm-induced illusion, but rather something...real? How could you tell something like that, anyway? It felt real, and, even if this situation was unusual, she couldn’t say it was coerced in any way. When she was around him, she had feelings for him.

Or at least desires. Deep, intense desires that had a mind of their own within her body. Like each of her cells was individually feeling his pull.

She flexed both hands into fists and then straightened them out. There was so much work to do. If she kept her eyes on that, she would be okay. Feelings could come later.

She walked back into the living room with new resolve. Landon was sitting on the couch, working at his tablet. He looked up.

“Food will be here in twenty minutes,” he said, eyes trained on her. “How is Tom doing?”

She shrugged, then sighed before she realized what she was doing. “Looks like he’s fine for now. Sleeping hard.”

If he noticed her tension, he didn't mention it. “Two tranqs will do that," he said. "Should be far from lethal, though, given the compound in those darts. Assuming it’s the same thing they hit you with. He’d have to have maybe ten of them stuck in to be at risk of asphyxiation.”

“How do you know so much about the tranquilizers used in darts?”

“Same base that’s used for a lot of sedatives in more traditional delivery methods. The difference is in degree. We produce a few of them."

She shook her head. “Of course. I forget you're a science prodigy.”

“I have a hands-on approach to my business,” he said, his voice light. He leaned back on the couch and smiled. “It’s how I approach everything in my life. You know.”

Her cheeks warmed. "Mm hmm," she murmured.

Then she turned away and walked over to her bag to get her tablet. Was he flirting or was she just interpreting everything that way because her hormones had decided she was sixteen again? She felt Landon's eyes on her as she dug through her bag, but he said nothing.

Finally, she pulled the device out. She turned to him with the tablet in hand. “We need to figure out next steps,” she said, straightening up.

His dark eyes opened wide for a moment, but then his control was back. “We do," he said smoothly, "but we should also eat first."

Her nostrils flared. She hated it when she was dismissed like that.

He glanced down at his comm, seemingly unaware of how easily he had taken control of the conversation. “Our food is arriving soon. You said earlier you have a gun, correct?”

“I do,” she said grudgingly. 

“Get it out. I’m going to go get our food and bring it back. I don’t want anything to happen while I’m gone.”

She put a hand on her hip. “If anything is going to happen, it’s going to be you they’re after, not me,” she said. "Do you know how to use a gun?"

He stood up and patted his side pockets before he checked his back pocket for his wallet. Every movement was slow, almost languid. Definitely unbothered.

She continued to stare at him, waiting for a reaction.

Finally, he seemed satisfied. His eyes found hers as he walked to where she stood in a couple of long-legged strides. They stood face to face.

“Yes, I know how to use a gun," he said, his voice still silky smooth. “No, I'm not taking it with me.”

A lump came up in her throat, but she pushed it away. "You're not taking this seriously!"

His easy smile dropped in a flash and it felt like a freezer door had been opened. "No," he said, "I am taking this very, very seriously. And what I'm also taking seriously is your well-being. Someone just broke in here a couple hours ago and it could happen again."

"You're the one leaving the apartment!"

"I have a disguise, thanks to you. They seem to know the apartment, not me."

"But it's you they're after!"

His eyes flared dangerously. "Damn it!" he snapped. "Don't you think I know that?" 

Frustration laced every word, and energy sparked in the silence that followed. Kristina reeled back, blood pumping through her veins like a six lane highway clear of traffic. Where had that come from?

It didn't matter. She gathered herself and squared up to face him head on. Two could play this game.

"Then why are you being such an idiot?" she shot back. "Why make a big show of 'have your gun out' in the first place?"

He took another step toward her, so their bodies were so nearly touching and she could account for every molecule between them.

She swallowed hard and tried to take a step back, but her feet were frozen in place.

"Because I worry about you," he growled. "I'm not being an idiot. I'm just doing what I have to."

Her mouth was so dry. "What's that?"

His dark eyes trained on the space between their bodies. Her heart pounded in her breast.

"This.”

A warm glow blurred through her body, out from her chest all the way to her fingers.

"Wait," she gasped. "What are you doing?"

But she knew.

She couldn't do this. Not while people were after him. After
them
.

But there was the fact of him, his presence right there. The heat from his body commingled with the heat of her own body. Her face felt flushed. No, her skin felt flushed. All of it, from head to toe.

She turned her face away, trying to break from gravitational pull of him, of his tangible desire.

Then his hand came up, the smooth, firm skin of his fingers against her jaw, and her eyes were eased up to face him.

She didn't resist but it was wrong. 

His face was right there: his coal-black eyes, his sharp cheekbones, his perfect thin lips.

"Don't be a coward," they said, as if on their own and yet it was
him
.

"We can't," she whispered.

"Can't?" he asked.

The single word was a taunt she had no answer to. It hung there, nestled into the breath that sat in her chest. The air in her lungs went still like a snapshot. It was so irresponsible and they were here.

His thin lips parted and hers did likewise—reflexively—and their mouths sealed together.

A light mist of perspiration erupted on her skin. His mouth was warm, just as she'd remembered, and she realized she missed kissing him as she kissed him. His tongue probed skillfully toward hers, lightly, teasing to see how much she would let through.

This was happening. It was now or never for her to turn back.

She did not pull away.

Her hands trailed up the rough terrain of his muscular arms and up to the back of his head as she kissed him back, hard. His short hair peeked up between her fingers as their tongues moved together. She trembled when his hands came up on the backs of her arms and drew her even closer so her chest pressed against his.