Slow Burn (31 page)

He stopped me. “No. I can’t.”

“You have to,” I said. “Because if you don’t, she’ll always have this over you. Just let me try.” I reached for him.

He clenched his teeth together.

I backed off. “Not like that, baby. Relax.”

“I
can’t
.” He glared at me. “You don’t know what it’s like. You touch me, and all I can think about—”

I put my hand back, loosely holding him. “Shh. You aren’t there. You’re here with me. Don’t let them stop this. Don’t let French stop this.”

He swallowed.

I stroked him slowly. Gently, gazing into his eyes. He looked back at me, tense, half-soft in my grasp. I didn’t let go. I didn’t stop.

His breath began to grow more and more shallow. I could see that he was relaxing at the same time as he was growing stiffer. Finally, he flung his head back, closing his eyes. “Shit.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He was growing more and more rigid under my fingers. I lowered my head to him, ran my tongue over the head of him.

He made a gravely noise in the back of his throat.

I slipped him between my lips, sheathing him with my mouth.

He grasped my shoulders, his fingers digging tightly into my skin. I looked up at him, and his gray eyes met mine. I could see it all there, warring—desire and terror, fear and longing. But he was still immense and firm, filling up my mouth. He seemed to be getting even bigger. So I moved against his grip, dipping down to take him deeply, dragging back up. Tasting him thoroughly.

And his hands loosened. Moved, searchingly, for my breasts.

He gasped in surrender, in pleasure, and I took him in and out of me, pushing and pulling, over and over. And over.

I drifted into the rhythm of it, of his groans and sighs, of the power I could feel mounting in him. My body echoed it, building as well. We were one, connected, united, and I wanted his climax to explode within me, taking me with him—

He stopped me. “Wait.” He was out of breath.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” I said.

“No,” he said. “If we live, again and again, but if we’re going to die... I want to be inside you one last time.” He pulled me over him. He clawed at my clothing. I was naked over him. He ran his hands over me, over everywhere, before he pulled me close, arranging me where he wanted.

I was wet, ready for him. And then he was pushing into me, forcing me open.

I cried out, pressing back against him, trying to take all of him.

He grabbed me by the hips, holding me in place.

It was quick for both of us. He speared me somewhere, deep and dark and thrilling. I moaned. And then there were only a few more strokes before I was convulsing around him, going into spasms, rippling out as he burst into me.

I collapsed against his chest, breathless.

He exhaled, tension leaving his body.

I closed my eyes.

“Well,” he gasped. “I guess that was a good way to die.”

It must have been hours that passed after that. There wasn’t any way to be sure, but nothing happened for a really long time. We didn’t die. We kept waiting for gas to come furling out of the ceiling, but nothing happened.

“So, this is what it’s going to be like,” I said. “I’m going to be so bored out of my skull that I’ll want to die just to break up the monotony.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, doll,” he said. “We don’t know how much longer we have left.”

“What do you think is happening out there? You think that French and my dad are arguing or something?”

“Maybe,” he said. He paced the length of the room, rubbing the top of his head.

I wished I knew more about this place. All I knew about it was what Griffin had told me, and he’d only given me surface details. I remembered the things he told me near the waterfall, about the memory wipes and the gas room.

Wait. “Griffin, didn’t you say my dad told you something about this room? That he knew the password to get out of it?”

Griffin stopped pacing. “He did tell me that.”

We both turned to look at the door. There was a keypad next to it.

“The password would open the door, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, coming over to me. “Do you think you know it?”

I really had no idea. “Well, I used to know the password for his bank account. You think it’s the same?”

He shrugged. “Let’s try it.”

I went over to the keypad. There was a screen over it. It read,
Input password, followed by the enter key.

I typed in the password I knew.

Incorrect,
flashed the screen.
Nozzles engaged. You have two more tries to enter the correct password or gas will be dispensed.

I stepped back. “Oops.”

“Whoever programmed this thing is sick.”

“Well,” I said. “If we don’t put in another password, everything will be fine, right?”

The screen blinked.
Enter password in thirty seconds or gas will be dispensed
.

“Crap,” I said. I looked at Griffin.

“You don’t know any of his other passwords?

“I...” I bit my lip. “No, I do know another one. He used this for all kinds of stuff. He tried to password-protect the internet with it.” I keyed it in.

Incorrect
, blinked the screen.

“We’ll be okay, though,” I said. “We’ll wake up after we get gassed. Right?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll go dark, that’s for sure.”

The screen started to count down from ten.

“Let me try something,” said Griffin.

Eight. Seven. Six.

He stepped in front of the console and began to key in something.

Five. Four. Three. Two.

The doors opened.

I gaped at him. “You guessed it. You guessed the password.”

“It was your name,” said Griffin. “I guess your dad thought about you more than we knew.”

Griffin and I crept through the hallways of Op Wraith, ducking into empty rooms when we heard anyone coming.

At the end of the hallway, we saw that French and my father were sitting inside one of the rooms. Along the wall were several rows of needles and syringes. One row was labeled, “stage one,” the others labeled, “stage two.”

“I won’t let you hurt her,” said my father. “Honestly, now that Caldwell is out of the picture, I don’t see why we can’t give her the memory wipe and send her back to her life.”

“That would never work,” said French. “Everyone would wonder where she’d been. She’d wonder where she’d been for a year.”

“A full memory wipe then,” said my father. “True amnesia. It can be accomplished with the stage two injection.” He gestured to the needles on the wall.

“You’d do that to your own daughter?” French sounded amused.

“I want her alive,” said my father.

“If alive is all that matters, then why is it a problem for her to be one of our assassins?” asked French.

Griffin touched my arm. “We’ve got to get in there. But we can’t underestimate French. She’s—”

There was a crashing noise from inside the room.

We turned back to look.

Knox was leaping out of the duct work, gun in hand. “Hands on your head,” he snarled.

French and my father both complied, their eyes wide.

Griffin pulled me into the room.

Knox tensed, training his gun on us as we entered.

“It’s us,” said Griffin.

“Great,” said Knox. “I’ve been having trouble killing French.”

“We noticed,” said Griffin.

French turned to Griffin, her voice urgent. “You’re nothing but a cocksucking faggot. Now get the gun from Knox.”

Griffin sneered. “Yeah, that’s not going to work, anymore.”

She glared at me. “What did you do to him?”

I smirked.

French sucked in an audible breath and turned to Knox. “You. You didn’t lift a finger to save the woman you loved.”

“Shut up,” said Knox. “I’ve got a gun to your head, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

French smiled. “You’re adorable, Knox. Very sweet in your confident act. You think you’ll be able to keep it up, though? You’re just a coward, really, aren’t you? You knew about the order to kill Beth, and you did nothing. And from what I understand, you didn’t manage to save her when you left on your last mission either. You aren’t very reliable, are you?”

Knox clenched his teeth. “Listen up, you bitch.”

“Don’t,” said Griffin. “It’s what she wants.”

“Leigh,” said my father, “tell Knox that I’m not part of this.”

Knox swung the gun around to face my father. “That’s the thing, Thorn, you are. You helped establish this place. You ran it. You didn’t do anything to make it better.”

French moved quickly, sweeping Knox’s feet out from under him.

He stumbled. The gun went off. Knox fell into the wall, scattering “stage two” needles everywhere.

French wrenched the gun from his hands. “How convenient. A gun.”

“Damn it,” said Knox, getting to his feet.

French gestured with the gun. “All of you in that corner, please.”

Griffin, Knox, and I did as she said.

“You too, Thorn,” she said.

He pursed his lips. “But French, you and I are—”

“Move,” she said.

My father joined us.

“Now,” said French, “I’ve got to figure out what to do with all of you. You’re all very interesting subjects, and I’m sure I’d have a lot of fun getting inside your heads, but I don’t know if that would be wise.”

Knox nudged Griffin and me. We looked down. He had one of the “stage two” needles in his hand. He must have gotten it when he knocked them off the wall.

“I just want you all to know,” she said, “that your lives won’t be given in vain. You’ll be helping me to set up my new rule here at Operation Wraith, and you’ll be dying for a good cause.”

“Shut up,” yelled Knox, brandishing the needle. He dove for her.

French shot him.

He landed on her, driving the needle into her skin. Then his body went still. Beneath him, French wasn’t moving.

“Oh my,” said my father.

I took a deep breath. Knox would be okay. He’d only gone dark.

Griffin knelt down and picked up the gun. He pointed it at my dad. “Frank, what did he give her?”

“Very concentrated,” said my father. “Full amnesia, I’m afraid. She’ll be unconscious for a few hours. When she wakes up, she won’t even know her name.”

I grabbed another of the syringes. “Sounds good.” I advanced on my father.
“Wait,” he said. “What are you doing, Leigh? I did everything for you.”

“You killed people for money, dad,” I said. “You would have had Griffin killed. And you wanted to make me a killer.”

“Please,” he said. “I’m your father.”

“You’re a terrible father,” I said. I pushed the needle into his neck.

His eyes rolled back up in his head, and he slumped to the floor, lifeless.

Griffin was watching me.

I turned to him. “I had to do it.”

He nodded. “You did.” He pointed the gun at French. “Move Knox out of the way.”

“Wait,” I said. “She’s not going to remember anything.”

Griffin’s jaw twitched. “She deserves to die.”

“You don’t want to kill, though, do you, Griffin?”

He wavered a little.

“She’ll have amnesia. She’ll be someone else.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay.” He looked at me. “For you, doll. For you, she lives.” He bent down and hoisted Knox over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Twenty

Griffin, Knox, and I stood together in another anonymous hotel room. The lights were out, and we were gathered around a row of unlit candles.

Griffin took a deep breath. He struck a match, brilliant flame in the darkness. He brought the match to the wick of the candle. “For Beth,” he said.

“For Beth,” said Knox.

Griffin handed the matches to me. I struck another match, and then I lit the next candle. “For Stacey and Jack,” I said.

I handed the matches to Knox. He struck a third match and lit the next candle. “For the other casualties. The assassins killed doing Op Wraith’s dirty work.”

Griffin took my hand. I reached out to take Knox’s, and, to my surprise, he let me. We stood silently, gazing into the small, flickering flames.

“Gone, but not forgotten,” whispered Griffin.

I gazed at Knox, who was bouncing Dixie in his arms. “I still don’t see how you convinced them to give you that baby.”

He tickled her tummy. “I got skills. And I know how to fake documentation. I learned stuff in Op Wraith.”

“I know. You said that, but...” I shook my head. “I mean, they just gave you a baby.”

“Well,” said Griffin. “It
is
his baby.”

“That’s true,” I said. “But you walked in there and came out with a baby.”

Knox shrugged, grinning. “Like I said, I got skills.”

“You sure that you don’t want to come with us?” Griffin asked.

“Positive,” said Knox. “I need to be alone with my daughter for a little bit. That’s what I want. Just the two of us.”

“All right,” said Griffin. He offered Knox his hand.

Knox shook it. The two looked into each other’s eyes, both gripping the other’s hand. “Look, about Beth—”

Griffin shook his head. “I tortured you for days. I think we’re even.”

Knox nodded. They dropped hands.

“Come here,” I said, hugging Knox. “You know if you ever need anything to find us.”

“Definitely,” he said.

I kissed the top of Dixie’s head. She gurgled.

“See you around,” said Knox. He turned to Dixie. “Can you wave bye-bye?” When she didn’t do anything, he raised her hand for her and made her wave.

I waved too. Griffin took me by the hand and led me away. We walked to the street, where a sleek, black car was parked.

“You know,” I said, as I opened the passenger door. “You’ve got to stop stealing cars.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna have to go legit. Luckily, you remembered your dad’s bank password, and he’s got total amnesia, so he doesn’t even remember he
has
money. I used some of that information to procure this fine automobile.”

“Wait,” I said. “You bought this?”

He closed the door after himself. “Sure did.”

I grinned. “Okay. Well, I guess that’s cool.” I looked back to see that Knox and Dixie were going inside. “Knox seems happy.”