Versions (The Blacklist Series Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: Versions (The Blacklist Series Book 1)
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14

R
in stepped
from the narrow shower stall, dried with a towel that smelled of Luck, and then riffled through her bag for something to wear. She walked from the tiny room with a pair of cutoffs and a loose vintage tank with the MTV logo. Luck had traded his T-shirt for one that looked like it had seen battle several times and a pair of jeans to match. He set two glasses on the table on either side of a tray of steaming pizza.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect company and I haven’t been to the grocery in a few days.”

“Cereal wouldn’t cut it this morning anyway.” She sat opposite him and took a long pull on her milk. “You know, it should freak me out way more than it does that you’ve watched me for a year.” The damp ends of her hair tickled her chest. She swatted it back. “I mean, you probably heard me burp when I was home alone.”

“It was cute.” He bit into his pizza and waggled his brows.

“Burps aren’t cute.”

“They are when they come out of something so tiny.”

“Ew.”

“It’s natural.” He shrugged.

Rin scowled at him over the remaining pie. After several minutes in silent stalemate Luck reached for another slice and they finished the leftovers in record time. Rin collapsed back in her chair, completely full and still not ready to tackle the drama sure to come. Ready or not, her mind mulled over the scarce facts.

“She’s proud of you.” Luck dropped the bomb while snagging her napkin and empty glass. He turned away to clean the cups and she was glad for the reprieve.

How could her mother be proud? “I was a mess.”

“She understood why. Besides, you turned it around on your own. No one did that for you.”

“I had help.”

“Everyone needs it at some point. Some just aren’t smart enough to realize it. You were.” He placed the glasses on a dishtowel and sauntered his loose hips her way. “You turning your life around is what got this ball rolling in the first place. She never expected you to apply for a government job. When you took your position with the DOD it flagged the CIA. They put a team in place to watch you. Nate. Zach. Jen.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “They wanted to know if your mother had contacted you. They always suspected she’d faked her death, but could never find her.”

“Is she a bad guy?”

“In the eyes of the US government, she’s a traitor. But there’s always more to the story.” He offered his hand. “We need some fresh air.”

When they made it to the other side of the big-ass door, Luck headed up the steps instead of down. She used the railing and his hand for support, but by the third flight she limped from the bruise Nate had left on her back and the ache in her calves.

“Up you go,” he said, squatting low on the steps and presenting her with his back. She just stared at the fine V of his defined lats visible from the cut of his shirt. “You can hop on my back or I’ll toss you over my shoulder. Your choice.”

She hopped onto his back, cinched her legs around his middle, and hugged his lean muscles. As he walked his soft hair tickled the side of her face. Luck between her thighs fooled with her brain. They reached the roof access and he pushed through the door.

The clear blue sky opened up as far as she could see. In the distance skyscrapers and monuments dotted the horizon, but the other buildings that surrounded them hunched smaller than this one. He stooped, released his grip on her thighs, and she slid down his back. The friction curled her toes. She channeled her angst over the unfolding drama to calm her aching core.

They fell in step together, heading for a patio table with a throw-back boombox on top and an umbrella fanning out from a hole in its middle.

“Not scared you’re going to get sniped?”

He put a finger over his mouth. She shut hers and moved closer to him. Gravel crunched under their feet. The sun beat on their skin. By the time they reached the table no bullets had taken them out. Luck pressed a button on the radio and a DJ for WKYS announced Iggy Azalea’s Black Widow as the next on tap.

“If they knew we were here they’d come in hot. Try and take us alive,” he shrugged.

“Jesus! Give me the quick and dirty version. I need to understand this.”

Luck pulled out a chair and offered her the shade of the umbrella. She sat. He took the chair next to her and stretched out his legs.

“Your mom was recruited out of college by the CIA. She worked Russia, bringing in pivotal intel that helped propel the end of the Cold War. The man she used as her mark—your father—was the Soviet Minister of Defense. Years later he tracked your mother back to the States. She covered her tracks well and it took him a long time, but when you were a girl he showed up at your house, tried to take you back to Russia with him as payment for her betrayal.”

“That’s why she killed him?”

“Yep.”

A wave of nausea crashed over her, suffocating her in the heat of the day. Rin stood and hurried to the edge of the roof. Luck’s footsteps sounded right behind her. The tar-topped building lip burned her palms, but she didn’t much care. She leaned over and sucked a breath, then another. Luck’s hand slipped inside the waistband of her shorts and clamped down.

“I’m not going to jump.”

“Maybe I just wanted to cop a feel.”

“You already did that in the morgue.”

“It was nice,” his sexy voice rumbled.

A flash of heat that had nothing to do with the rays of the sun warmed her skin. Rin hung her head between her shoulders and watched the tiny cars roll by. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“You may never.”

“Why toss herself off a building in front of me?”

“You weren’t supposed to be there, but your baby-sitter got sick and your grandfather brought you to the party. She didn’t know until…after…that you saw.”

“Why fake her death in the first place, if she killed him?”

“Because she killed him. Ansya Popov, his lead spy, would never have stopped looking for her. And she would have found you.”

“Why is my mother an enemy of the State?”

“In an effort to flush her out, Popov forged evidence that Cara, your mom, sold secrets while behind the curtain. She figured it would be twice as hard for her to stay hidden with two groups looking for her.”

Rin fished her lips and thought. “Okay, after all this time why would Popov continue looking for her? Why does any of it matter anymore?”

“Now it’s more about principal for her. She has no country. No place to call home and she wanted that for your mother. Also, Popov and your father were rumored to have been lovers before she was taken captive by the North Koreans.”

A cold sweat broke out over Rin’s skin. “Oh my God, she’s here. Nate talked to her the other day.”

“Here, in the States?” he asked, whirling her around to face him.

“Here in DC. The tape! The tape you stole, where is it?”

15

L
uck sprinted
down two flights before he remembered Rin’s legs hurt. He turned to check on her, but she blew past him. Adrenaline was an amazing thing. They went round, stampeding down side by side until they reached his loft. He tugged the keys from his pocket and popped the lock on the chest at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit. Is it legal to have all those guns?” Rin panted over his shoulder.

“It’s legal to have that many, but not all the types. And the RPG is a big no-no.”

“Awesome.”

He chuckled and grabbed the mini tape he’d confiscated from her the day before. “Didn’t have time to listen to it yesterday. I had to get to your place. I knew you wouldn’t stay with Nate. At least, I hoped you wouldn’t, even though it would have been safer for you.”

“Why’d you hope—”

He depressed play on the device he’d bought after he figured out Nate used them to record her, deliberately ignoring her question. He really shouldn't go there. He fast-forwarded through their morning routine and again through the silence after. When the tape played again a female voice berated Nate for the meeting location.

Yep, it had been a bad idea on the guy’s part. The conversation went on. The evidence mounted that this woman was in fact Ansya Popov. The clincher came at the end, just like Rin had said it would. Euphoria lightened the heavy weight on his shoulders.

Before he could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around Rin’s nape and sealed his mouth over hers. She tasted even better than she smelled. Pizza mixed with a delicate vanilla to drive him mad, and he didn’t even use tongue.

Luck eased back, dug his fingers into her hair, repositioned her, and went back for more. This time he teased her upper lip until she opened for him. He suctioned his mouth to her lower lip and nibbled before delving his tongue inside.

Her impatient mouth moved to accommodate him, becoming a pliant form of the woman he’d yet to fully discover. And Lord, how he wanted to discover every part, every nuance.

A
bang
forced him back. He reached for his gun before he realized the noise was from the tape.

“I fell,” she explained in a dreamy voice.

Me too.

His hand slipped from her hair and caressed her lips. “When I have time, I’d like to kiss you for an entire day.”

“And it can’t be today?” she asked on a sigh.

“It’s almost half over.”

“You could make up for those hours tomorrow.”

Luck brushed his knuckles over her cheek and leaned in, brushing their lips with measured ease. “I need to make a phone call.”

16

L
uck stuffed
his free hand in his pocket and Rin hoped it was because he couldn’t keep his hand off her otherwise. She wanted to strip his clothes off with her teeth and lick every inch of the muscled skin she’d seen far too little of. He’d enticed her the moment his decadent voice had rumbled in her ear and every moment since. Even when she wanted to sock him on the chin, another part yearned to pull him close and never turn him loose.

He speed-dialed her mother on speakerphone. She could seduce him while he was on the phone. But, she wanted this to be special. No, this was special.

He was different than anyone she’d ever been with. He was so much like her, walled off from the rest of the world. She’d never let anyone close, and somehow he fit next to her most intimate thoughts and hidden emotions. And she liked him there.

“Luck?” her mother’s raspy voice carried an anxious tone over the line.

“We’re good here. Better than. Your daughter is a damn genius. She found Popov.” A smile curved one side of his reddened mouth.

“How?” Cara Lee snapped like no ghost she’d ever heard.

“A conversation she overheard between Popov and Harlow yesterday in person in her condo,” Luck explained.

“How did that happen without you knowing?” she growled.

“Don’t yell at him.” Rin snapped the words with a force that silenced them all for a pile of seconds. Luck’s gaze narrowed, but amusement clung in his crooked grin. “He had no way to know I’d seen a text to Nate that made me suspicious enough to snoop after I should have left for work. Besides, I’m not his burden. I’m my own responsibility.”

His quiet delight vanished with his smile. “That’s not your call, Rin.”

“Mom, tell him I’m not his mission anymore,” Rin demanded.

“It’s not her call either,” Luck whispered. “I’m not protecting you for her.”

“Then who the hell are you doing it for?” her mother hollered.

“Me,” he said. “I’m protecting her because I want her…safe, cared for.”

Rin looked at her feet in total shock at the conviction in his timbre. Her grandparents had protected her as much as they could. They were family. They tried to make up for the absence of her mother. What did he have to gain from protecting her?

As if he’d heard her thoughts, his pointed finger pressed over her heart. He held it there until finally she met his gaze. Luck cupped her cheek. So much emotion channeled through his intense gaze and that simple touch. Rin molded her hand over his and held him close.

“I’ll take care of Popov,” her mother said. “You two stay put. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Luck’s thumb hovered over the end button.

“Damien Luck,” Cara Lee scolded, “you remember what I said to you.”

“Yep. You remember I said no promises.” With those words he ended the call. He tossed the phone into the open trunk and cradled her other cheek in his hand.

She noticed the lightest sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Those tiny dots twisted her durable heart like a clown balloon, changing the unfeeling organ into a squeaking, fragile piece of plastic he could crush under his boot. And though she’d honed the instinct to run at the first hint of such a liability, she tilted her chin and lost herself in his clear eyes.

“No one…has ever stood up for me.” The small creases on his lips bunched. His jaw worked and he swallowed as though struggling for composure. “I haven’t needed it for a long time, but you…” His grip urged her forward. “You make me want things I’ve never needed. You make me weak and strong at the same time.”

His mouth lowered and brushed her cheek with tender reverence. Those soft lips kissed her chin, her brow, her nose, as though she were fragile. In his arms she was and at the same time, she was powerful too—just like he’d said.

The emotion had her shifting, dancing uncomfortably in her shoes. He released his hold and stepped back, a pained expression drawing his beautiful face.

“What didn’t you promise her?” Rin asked.

“You don’t really want to know the answer to that question,” he warned.

“Try me.”

He stood, broad chest only inches from hers, and smirked. His taste still lingered on her lips and he mocked her.

“I’m not a child,” she goaded. “You can’t be any older than me.”

“Street wise, I’m forty, shorty.”

“And real world?”

“You’ve got me by a year, old lady.”

“So, give,” she ordered.

“Fine. She warned me not to go after Nate and not to fall in love with you.”

The first part she could see, but the second jerked the rug out from under her feet. Rin clamped her mouth together to keep from sputtering until she formulated a response. She almost took a step back, but refused to be cowed by the arrogant pout of his lips.

“Why would you go after Nate?”

“Let’s just say he’s not my favorite guy.”

“Why not? He’s not really the bad guy here.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

His jaw set. He folded his arms and the bulge of his biceps swelled.

“He doesn’t know Popov is a Soviet spy.”

“He tried to beat the shit out you to maintain his cover. A man who can screw a woman one night and smack her around the next is worse than Popov. At least she’s loyal.”

Rin gasped and her heart cramped. “You heard everything. That’s what you were saying last night.”

“Just stop.” His teeth ground together. “I’m a dick. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Her stomach pitched. He probably watched her and Nate go at it all the time. She bristled. “I’m not going to apologize for liking sex.”

He scoffed. “You shouldn’t and I didn’t ask you to.”

“But you have this judgmental look that’s making me sick to my stomach.”

“Well, talking about it isn’t great for me either,” he snapped.

“What? Are you a prude?” She folded her arms across her breasts, shoving what little cleavage she possessed into his face.

“Just let it go or you’ll end up pissed,” he said, lifting his palm from his arm.

“I’m already pissed.” Her cheeks burned.

“You deserve to be loved, to have a guy love your body and worship it with everything he has. He used you like a fist for a quick jerk, and then he rolled over and went to sleep.”

“Did you ever think that I was the one using him? No, you didn’t, because society has programmed you to think that way. A woman should find a nice guy, fall in love, get married, and have some snotty little kids. Well, I don’t do mushy. I don’t do love.”

“You never let anyone get close,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “Me neither. But I’m willing to admit that holding the world at a distance sucks. It’s exhausting and damn lonely.”

“Screw you,” she yelled because his words hit too close to her version of the truth, the one she couldn’t admit to herself.

“Not just for pleasure.” His thick brow arched.

“For what, then?”

“Your heart.”

“I don’t have one.”

“I saw it last night.”

“You must have been deliriously tired.”

“No, you were. That’s how I caught a glimpse.” He leaned forward, snatched his phone from the chest, and then closed and locked it. His lips opened to say more, but he hesitated. His heels caught traction as he turned and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” she yelled at the back of his head.

“Out.”

“She said to stay put.”

“She also said not to fall in love with you.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” she quipped.

“Too fucking late, is what it is.” He reached the door, turned, and heaved the screeching metal, rolling it between them.

“You can’t love me,” she panted against the quivering of her heart. “You don’t know me.”

“I watched you for a year, Rin. I know you better than you know yourself.” Their gazes locked and the eroded metal slowly broke the trance.

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