Night Moves: A Shadow Force Novel (6 page)

“Suit yourself.” He led her to the window. “You’re not going to like our exit, but it’ll be effective. And you’ll be alive.”

“Is going out the window really necessary?”

He pointed to the far window and she left him to go look and she saw a truck that looked suspiciously like the one that had been following her earlier. She wasn’t planning on getting close enough to be sure.

She was back by his side in seconds.

“It might not be the same men,” he said.

“If it is, how would they keep finding us?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“You think I’m leading them to me?”

“I don’t know—are you? Because if you’re screwing with me, you’re playing a more dangerous game than you know.” He had her by the shoulders, shook her a little, and he looked fierce, like an untamed predator.

And that’s exactly what he was. Danger radiated off him in waves and she should be running in any direction but his.

Instead, she asked, “What do you want me to do to prove it?”

“Strip.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I need to see if you’ve got a tracking device planted in your clothing.”

“And that’s the only way I’ll convince you?”

“Yes. Or else I’m leaving you here.”

“You bastard.”

“I’ve been called a lot worse.”

Furiously, she stripped the tank off, exposing her tiny, lacy bra, a leftover from her former life when fun lingerie was a luxury she’d indulged in just because she could. Her underwear matched and as she stood there, his eyes took her in, head to toe. “I need it all off. I have to inspect it.”

“You can do it while it’s on me,” she said, and then realized her mistake, but it was too late. She would’ve been less exposed standing naked in front of him than she would be as if he actually touched her.

“Suit yourself.” He moved close, ran a hand along the bottom of her bra, starting at the back and moving toward the front, feeling the underwire, his warm fingertips brushing the undersides of her breasts.

Her nipples puckered. “Is there anything there?” she asked, and he looked at her with a gleam in his eye.

“There’s something … but not what I’m looking for.”

She went to push him away but he looked down and she relented. Because there wasn’t much time. Because she wanted to prove to him that he could trust
her, and she wondered when and how those roles had gotten reversed.

His hand went around her waistband and she tried not to shiver, but failed. He was so damned close and her body was responding in a way it hadn’t in forever. For the past year, she’d felt alone; sex had been the last thing on her mind.

Now it was in the forefront, despite the danger.

His hand dipped between her legs and she bit her bottom lip and tried to look anywhere but at him. He, in turn, was looking directly at her.

“Find what you were looking for?” It was all she could think of to say, to stop herself from asking him not to stop.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “No. I just wanted to keep touching you.”

Before she could respond, his phone was ringing and he moved away from her, leaving her to dress while he spoke.

“Where the hell have you been? Okay, yeah, we’ll meet you.” He hung up. “Reid’s got new wheels for us. Let’s roll.”

She wasn’t sure who she hated more at this moment—herself or Kell. But there wasn’t time to dwell because the window was open and he was tying a rope around himself and hooking it to a girder while she finished putting her clothes back on, and when he motioned for her to come to him, she did.

There was no other way for her to do this but wrap her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and bury her face against his neck as he dropped them down from the roof, the rope tied
pulley-style, the metal gutter creaking as it struggled to hold both their weight.

When they got to the bottom, he let her go and she took a stumbled step back. And then she came forward and punched him, a left hook that caught his lip. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, grinned, and she knew she’d miscalculated. Badly.

In a flash, he pinned her to the wall, leaned in close. “I’ll give you a place to put your hands, Teddie.”

Despite her fear, a thrill uncurled in her belly, heat flooding between her legs at the thought of his big hands on her.

And he knew it. Bent down, capturing her mouth with his, kissing her until she was dizzy.

When he pulled back, she still tasted him—the metallic taste of blood, mixed with mint and man. Her body had definitely responded; it wanted more and he knew it. He laughed a little—a hoarse sound—and backed away.

“Let’s go. We’re still not out of danger.”

We never will be
. The thought made her shiver.

The men after her were very dangerous. The man in front of her, more so … and she hoped she was on the right side of danger.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t know for sure for a very long time.

CHAPTER
4

K
ell hadn’t been lying to Teddie about the danger. Although he hadn’t seen who was in the truck waiting outside their hideout, he knew that a building like this was a perfect spot for criminal activity. Plus, it gave him the perfect excuse to search her.

Someone—or several someones—were stalking them. Going out the window was the best move. They were still boxed in but he’d rather fight out here, where there were two openings for escape, than inside.

But the fact that they were still running from an unseen enemy had Kell on edge. Teddie had nothing on her that they could track. If the men after her were trained mercs, they would be good at their job, but this was ridiculous, and he and Reid weren’t exactly slouches.

He licked his lips again, tasting her now. The bleeding
had stopped, but the sting was still there, and hell yeah, he’d deserved it.

He was nearly beyond the point of no return—the kiss, the slap, Teddie in her underwear had his blood boiling in a way it hadn’t in months—years, if he was honest with himself—and despite the fact that this was neither the time nor the place, his dick didn’t care.

But the rest of his body had better sense, because something in the air made him stop cold. He paused for a long moment, looked down one end of the alley and then the other.

Nothing.

But he still didn’t move.

“Shouldn’t we run?” Teddie asked softly but he placed a gentle finger over her mouth to stop her from making another sound.

They wouldn’t get far. He’d been hoping by waiting it out here, they’d escape. But there was no such luck.

There was also no place for Kell to hide Teddie. “Don’t move. No matter what happens, don’t move away from the wall,” he told her.

The danger whipped around the corner seconds later, in the form of a man wearing a blue shirt and jeans, carrying a baseball bat. Kell went for him, noting out of the corner of his eye that Teddie instinctively moved away from both of them.

Shit.

“Against the wall,” he barked, but she was too busy staring at the approaching man.

Dammit. He turned his attention to the guy with the baseball bat—Kell had no doubt he was more heavily armed than he appeared to be. He also wasn’t
one of the mercs from the picture Teddie had taken at the market in Khartoum. His gut clenched as he realized this had nothing to do with Teddie and everything to do with him. DMH? Or something else?

Before he had time to think further, Blue Shirt made his move, coming toward him with the bat raised.

It was time for Kell to make his, to let loose the adrenaline that soared through his body at full speed.

T
eddie wanted to listen to Kell, but the fear made her dizzy. It was all she could do not to scream as Kell threw himself at the danger like he could extinguish it with his body. She stepped back as if pushed by the sheer brute force of the action, right into another man’s chest. Arms wrapped around her and she screamed before a hand clamped over her mouth.

It was only then that she understood Kell’s directive and she promised herself to never again ignore it if she could just get out of this safely. If she’d remained with her back against the wall, she would’ve seen the second man coming at her, the one now attempting to drag her back down the alley and away from Kell.

She would not let this happen. If she died tonight, she’d go down fighting, and so she concentrated on escaping the man’s grasp. She flailed her legs, twisted and turned and then went limp, so that her captor nearly dropped her. He didn’t, though.

Instead, together they pitched forward, Teddie narrowly avoiding landing on her face with the big man on her back. But although she’d saved herself by rolling at the last second, she still wasn’t free.

She caught sight of Kell, moving like a blur of action
against Blue Shirt and another guy in a yellow shirt, who’d come out of nowhere. She heard grunts and fast breathing—but oddly, nothing else. A fight to the death that was eerily silent and she fought again as her assailant pressed her body closer to his.

She jammed an elbow back, heard a satisfying crunch and a howl and suddenly she could move. Her panic rose when the man attempted to grab her tighter, but she twisted away, tried to keep her eye on Kell as he continued fighting his attackers.

Hers called her a stupid bitch, ruthlessly twisting her arm behind her back and she cried out in pain.

It was then she felt the cold barrel of a gun press to her temple, and that stilled her. She heard her breath coming fast, willed herself not to hyperventilate, if such a thing could be done.

And then her captor called out, “Kell Roberts, you need to come with us.”

He knew Kell’s name—his first and last? It was
Kell
they wanted?

She hadn’t seen the face of either Blue Shirt or Yellow Shirt—or the one holding her—didn’t know if they were responsible for killing her family. But she’d thought they were.

She’d wondered how they kept finding her, had almost wanted Kell to discover something hidden in her clothing that would explain it. But now she knew this attack at least wasn’t about her at all.

That thought was confirmed when the fighting slowed as Kell glanced over at her and moved away from Blue Shirt with his hands in the air. Yellow Shirt, whom he’d kicked to the ground, stumbled to his feet
now and moved forward, and his face was illuminated by one of the two dim lights in the alleyway.

It definitely wasn’t one of the mercenaries who’d killed her family.

“She doesn’t need to be involved in any of this. She can go, forget she ever saw you and write it off as an unfortunate one-night stand,” the man who held her continued.

What would happen to her? Suppose the killers who were after her were lurking?

It seemed an impossible choice and yet she knew in her heart Kell wouldn’t let her get hurt.

“Who the hell are you?” Kell demanded of the man who held her tightly. There was a bruise already forming on Kell’s cheek and blood on his forehead and running down his left arm.

Her captor laughed at Kell’s question, which jostled her. Her shoulder ached and she stayed as still as possible out of fear that if she moved, her arm would break.

“You’ll find that out soon enough,” he said.

“Who do you work for?” Kell persisted.

“We know who you’ve worked for. How many assassinations you carried out for Delta Force. How many more you did independently, with no record of them in any government files. Who knows what other intel I have on you, how many innocents you slaughtered on your quests … let me give you some examples, in case you think I’m lying.”

He went on to list about ten places—countries and cities—and dates. And numbers, which no doubt meant something to Kell.

She closed her eyes as if that would stop her from
hearing things she didn’t want to know—never wanted to know about anyone.

When she opened them, Kell was staring straight at her, his expression pained. “Let her go,” he said slowly. “I’ll go with you.”

She wasn’t sure what panicked her more—the thought that she would be without Kell, or that she’d be with him.

“Let her go right now.”

Blue Shirt snorted and tossed handcuffs his way. “Put these on first and then walk to me.”

Kell locked his wrists behind him, but he didn’t move. “Let her go down the alley. Now.”

Slowly, the man behind her released her arm and she winced at the jolt of pain. She turned swiftly as he brushed by her—she was no longer of interest to him, but Kell was. His face wasn’t familiar either.

And she turned to Kell, not sure what to do. Leaving him behind did not seem right.

“Run,” he told her as he whipped around so he and the man who’d first grabbed her circled each other and it was then she saw the look in Kell’s eyes. The man she’d been literally attached at the hip to was in fact as dangerous as the men who were after her—maybe even more so.

K
ell’s blood ran cold. The fact that these men knew his name was bad enough, but coupled with his dubious list of accomplishments, most of which should’ve been completely classified since they were Delta missions … Damn, this was not good.

When Teddie turned tail, all three men moved in on him, treating Kell with caution, as they should.

“Start walking,” the one with the gun told him and Kell turned the opposite way from where Teddie had run—and where Reid was parked—and followed the directive.

He hoped Teddie would run directly into Reid. And when he didn’t hear her footsteps anymore, he made a forced stumble forward. The one in yellow grabbed for his biceps to right him. Kell took that opportunity to throw all his weight against him, smashing him against the building hard enough to knock him out.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Blue Shirt swing his bat, tried and failed to move completely out of the goddamned way, so the bat caught him on the side of his neck and back of his head, taking him to the ground. He landed on his shoulder and when he rolled, the one who’d grabbed Teddie earlier was standing close, holding Kell at gunpoint.

Fuck.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said.

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