Hot Rebel Page 7

  Emily might not have a clean record once it was done, but she’d at least be safe and out of an evil man’s control. Victoria would spend every moment she had making sure that Emily got the life she deserved.

  Victoria balled her fist and thumped it on her thigh. If only Emily was still alive. That was the thing that worried her in the middle of the night. She’d gone over and over that last conversation, Emily’s statement that she missed their mom, and she wondered. Why had Emily said it? What did it mean? Was she ready to leave this place? Was she afraid of Zaran?

  Why hadn’t she called in six months? She hadn’t been allowed to call, obviously. But what if it was something worse? What if she was unable to call?

  Victoria closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. And then she reached for her phone on the nightstand. She’d tried calling Emily before, but there was nothing except endless ringing. Even the voice mail didn’t work anymore. She got the same result this time.

  She ended the call and scrolled through her contacts until she found Nick’s name. He’d said he’d be nearby if she needed him. She’d wondered what that meant, but she’d decided it was best if she didn’t know. Now she clicked on his name and called up text messaging. She hesitated for a moment before typing.

  You there?

  She pressed Send before she could change her mind. It took only seconds before she had an answer.

  Yes. You okay?

  Fine. Just checking.

  Thinking about me, weren’t you?

  She could feel his smirk through the phone. Her cheeks heated. Two could play this game.

  Oh yeah. Touching myself too.

  Jesus, don’t say that.

  Why not?

  There was no reply for the longest time. Her heart sank a little as her phone remained silent. And then it buzzed.

  Because I want to touch you, V. Everywhere. Until you scream my name.

  Her breath shortened. And her pussy tingled with heat. She knew how to take care of herself—hell, it was how she got off when she needed to—but she found herself wishing he could touch her.

  We barely know each other, PB.

  We know each other enough.

  Her skin was so hot. The fan didn’t help, and she wanted to go kick the AC unit. But it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.

  Best we don’t go there. Work and play don’t mix.

  Maybe not, but we won’t always be working.

  She sucked in a breath. Her nipples tightened against her tank top, the fabric almost torture against her sensitive flesh. She pushed that thought away and typed.

  What were you doing when I texted?

  Sleeping.

  Sorry I woke you.

  I told you to let me know if you needed me.

  She stared at the screen, her heart thumping, wondering what to say in reply. She’d needed someone just now, someone to answer her in the middle of the night when she was lonely and scared for her sister. But she couldn’t say any of that to him. She couldn’t let him know she was anything less than tough. Because he wasn’t her friend. He was just a guy she knew who’d helped her out of a tight spot.

  Good night, V. See you soon.

  She texted him back, then slipped the phone on the nightstand and flopped onto her side. She’d left him in the desert two weeks ago, desperate to escape him. Now she couldn’t wait to see him again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nick met Ian Black at an out-of-the-way cafe. The other man was sitting at a table, chatting to the server in Arabic, when Nick walked in. Black stood, his eyes moving over Nick, assessing him. There was nothing but suspicion and hostility in those eyes, but that’s pretty much what Nick had expected to find.

  Black held out his hand and Nick took it. They gripped each other hard, that age-old contest between men to prove they had a firm handshake. Nick could remember his dad yelling at him when he was about eight years old for not squeezing harder. The old man had been worried he’d turn into a “sissy,” as he put it. Nick hadn’t quite known what that meant then, but he did now.

  It meant, among other things, that his father was a hypocrite who preached about forgiveness and loving one another and yet still had hatred in his heart for those he didn’t approve of. Even when that person was his own daughter.

  “Have a seat,” Black said, motioning to a chair and taking the one opposite. When they were settled, he fixed Nick with a level stare. “So you managed to be in the right place at the right time yesterday. Happy coincidence.”

  Nick shrugged. “Not quite a coincidence, but whatever.”

  Black’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Really? What’s that mean?”

  “It means I’ve been watching Vicky. Saw her in the market once and followed her home. Then I followed her to Akhira.”

  Black’s brows drew down. “Why would you do that?”

  Nick shrugged. “You’ve seen her, man. She’s hot.” He paused for a second, gauging the other man’s response. Black’s jaw tightened a fraction, and Nick’s gut clenched. Victoria had said she wasn’t sleeping with him, but that didn’t mean Black didn’t want to. Or that she’d been telling the truth. That was possible too.

  “But that’s not the real reason,” he continued. “I’ve been looking for work since I left the Army, and when I saw Vicky that day, I didn’t think she was here as a tourist, considering her special skill.” He leaned back in his chair. “Wanted to check you out, see what the lay of the land was.”

  “And what did you decide?”

  Nick could tell that Ian Black was angry. The implication that he’d followed Victoria, found out where Black was holed up, and then kept tabs on them for days wasn’t sitting well with the man’s inflated sense of self-importance. Fucking mercenaries.

  Fucking traitors. Or at least Black was, anyway.

  Nick leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’m good at what I do. Hell, I’m as good as your girl—probably better, quite honestly—and I’m willing to do whatever needs doing.”

  “And if what needs doing involves things that might be considered counter to the best interests of your country?”

  This was the part Nick hated. Fucking bastard. He wanted to reach across the table and wrap his hands around the man’s neck. The Hostile Operations Team was solid red, white, and blue, and the operators worked hard days and long hours in the most dangerous situations. They worked to protect America and all it stood for, and Nick had taken a vow to die in the line of duty if required. They all had.

  But this asshole didn’t care about any of that. For the purposes of this assignment, Nick couldn’t either.

  “My best interests come first,” Nick said. “But I’m not helping some terrorist shit smuggle a nuke into Baltimore Harbor or anything, so that’s out. The rest is up for discussion… for the right price.”

  That hadn’t been part of the script, but he was fucking pissed and he wanted Black to know he had limits.

  Black leaned back in his seat and tapped his phone where it lay on the table. He wasn’t punching in buttons, just tapping the back of the case.

  “You have quite a checkered history in the Army,” he said.

  Nick knew not to show any surprise, but it still astounded him how quickly the man had gotten the information on him. Definitely a leak somewhere.

  “Yeah, well, me and the Army don’t quite fit. Better if I go out on my own.”

  “You disobeyed a direct order from a commanding officer.”

  “It happens. And the stupid shit was wrong. If we’d done what he wanted, the whole unit would’ve bought it when we drove through that town.”

  “How do I know you’ll do what you’re told out in the field if you’re working for me?”

  “I’ve heard about you. You don’t send men on suicide missions or fail to listen when they tell you something doesn’t feel right. You don’t have West Point up your ass and think because you have a couple of bars on your shoulders that you know more than the men who’ve been on the ground since your worst
problem was who to ask to prom and how to get rid of a fucking zit.”

  Black’s mouth twisted in what might have been a smile or a grimace. And then he stretched his hand over the table. “Operations are getting busier these days, and I need people willing to work. Your background checks out, and I’m willing to give you a chance to prove your worth.”

  Nick clasped Black’s hand and they shook.

  “Fuck up, though, and you’ll be on the next transport back to the States.” Black’s smile faded then. “And I promise you, fuck with me at all, and I’ll make sure you don’t work for anyone in this business ever again. You’ll be back home bagging groceries and wondering what the fuck happened, you got it?”

  Nick forced himself to smile. “Fuck yeah, I got it.”

  Black motioned to the waiter and the man hurried over with two glasses and set them down. Black lifted one and sniffed it. “Black-market whiskey.”

  Nick picked up a glass. Alcohol wasn’t precisely allowed in Qu’rim, but of course there was always a black market in just about anything you might want. And a whole lot of people wanted alcohol, even if it was against the law.

  Black held out his glass and clinked it with Nick’s. “To a profitable future.”

  “Amen,” Nick said. He didn’t drink, however, and Black finally laughed.

  “Don’t trust me?”

  “Don’t trust anyone.”

  Black tossed the whiskey back and stood. “Your call. Drink it or leave it, but we’ve got work to do.”

  Nick slammed back the whiskey and got to his feet. “Lead the way.”

  *

  Victoria was inspecting her gear in one of the common rooms when Ian walked into the compound with Nick Brandon. Her stomach did a flip and her heart kicked up a notch. She pushed herself upright and faced the two men. Nick’s gaze slid over her, leaving her feeling jittery in its wake. She dropped the cloth she’d been using to polish her rifle and waited.

  She hadn’t known whether Nick would be successful or not, but Ian needed new men and Nick had all the right qualifications. Apparently, Ian agreed. Still, it made her stomach churn since she knew why Nick was really here.

  “Brought you something, Victoria,” Ian said.

  “I see that.”

  Something tall and dark and handsome, with bulging muscles and a scowl that said he wasn’t all that amused. Nick had a pack over his shoulder and a duffel hanging off one arm. If he’d brought all his gear, he was here to stay.

  “You doing all right after yesterday?” he asked, his expression as serious as ever.

  She swallowed before nodding. “I was shaken up a bit, but I’m over it now.”

  If only that were true. She was over the physical fear of the situation, but she was more worried than ever about Emily. And if Zaran bin Yusuf wanted her dead, that definitely wasn’t a good thing for her health.

  “Good.”

  Ian motioned to her. “Take him to see Rascal.”

  Nick frowned and Victoria hurried to fill the silence before he popped off. She already knew he wasn’t predisposed to like Ian, and she damn sure didn’t want him saying something that could compromise her ability to get Emily out of Qu’rim.

  “Rascal’s our quartermaster, so to speak. He’ll get you a place to sleep and explain how we operate.”

  “All right.” He shouldered his gear and followed her through the compound. They walked into an open area where the sun beat down with blistering intensity and the only shade was provided by a couple of date palms. The compound wasn’t huge, but it was big enough for their small army. Still, you wouldn’t quite know what was going on here by the open space. There was no military-grade equipment out in the open and nothing that seemed out of place.

  “You look pissed off,” she said as they walked. A fountain tinkled in the center of the courtyard, nothing but a tease in this heat.

  “I’ve been better.”

  “If you say or do anything that means I can’t get Emily back home, I’ll shoot you myself.”

  He snorted. “Hell, you’ve already threatened to do that twice before. Hasn’t worked out so far, has it?”

  “You haven’t pushed me far enough.”

  “And you all friendly last night. Texting me, saying naughty things… did you touch yourself, Victoria?”

  She sucked in a breath laced with searing heat. “I wasn’t serious about that, and you know it.”

  “How do I know it? Just because you say so?”

  They walked into the shade of a building, and she hurried to the door and opened it. Behind her, Nick laughed softly. She didn’t care; she wasn’t taking the bait.

  “Hey, Rascal, got a new recruit.”

  Rascal was a big man with a bald head and arms that looked like he’d bench-pressed a Humvee repeatedly. He was bald on purpose, not because he had no hair. He hulked over from where he’d been counting boxes of something and gave Nick a once-over.

  He looked meaner than hell, but Victoria knew he was actually one of the nicest guys Ian had, unlike some of the assholes Ian hired who had Rambo complexes. Those guys were typically much smaller than Rascal, so maybe they felt like they had something to prove. He didn’t.

  “Welcome aboard,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Nick took it and the two men shook.

  “So what’s your story, man?” Rascal asked.

  “Couldn’t take the Army bullshit anymore. They asked me to leave, so I did.”

  Rascal snorted. “And a job back home didn’t appeal, right?”

  “Nope.”

  Rascal cocked his head. “Got any special skills?”

  Nick shrugged. “Almost four years as a Ranger. My specialty was sniper.”

  Rascal’s eyes twinkled. “I see. Come to give our girl here some competition?”

  Victoria snorted. “As if. He’s my spotter.”

  Nick’s gaze burned into her, and she wondered if Rascal could sense the heat coming from her skin. It wasn’t all irritation, either. In fact, most of it wasn’t. Damn sexy jerk.

  “For now,” Nick said. “Until I prove I’m the better shot.”

  “Anytime, asshole,” she snapped.

  Rascal laughed. “Well, don’t kill each other yet. Boss Man has too much work needs doing, and we all benefit when the jobs get done.”

  Victoria turned pointedly away from Nick. “Don’t worry. I’d rather have the money anyway.”

  “Amen, sister. Amen.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “I’ve got gear that needs cleaning.”

  She could feel Nick’s eyes on her back as she left. A burst of male laughter came from inside the building when she walked outside. She had no idea if they’d been talking about her or not, but since she’d spent her life feeling like the odd one out, she always assumed it.

  She went back to where she’d been inspecting her gear, collected everything, and carried it up to her room. It was a small room with a small bed, but at least she was alone. There were no other women in Ian’s outfit—at least not here in Qu’rim, anyway.

  There was a window that looked out onto the courtyard, and she went over and watched for Nick. Eventually he came out of the building where she’d left him. He stood there for a minute, letting his gaze slide across the courtyard, and she knew he was cataloging it for his guys. A pang of guilt sliced into her, but she pushed it firmly away.

  She’d given Ian two years to find Emily for her, and he’d gotten nowhere. Besides, though he’d treated her well and paid her even better, she had no idea what he was really up to or where his loyalties lay. That thought had bothered her quite a bit since her chat with Colonel Mendez yesterday. Disavowed CIA. You had to do something pretty serious to piss off the CIA enough to do that to you.

  Just proved she didn’t really know Ian at all, and she had no real idea what he would do or how far he would go to protect his little empire. If giving her up to bin Yusuf was more profitable than not, she had no doubt he’d do it.

  Nick
began to walk toward the main building, his gear slung over his broad shoulders. He moved with the catlike stealth of a sniper, all fluid movement and tightly coiled attention. When he disappeared from sight, she breathed a sigh and picked up her phone. It was a habit to check for messages from Emily, but of course there was nothing.

  She heard movement outside her room, and she turned toward the door, her breath stopping in her lungs. Whoever it was moved on again, and she waited before going over and putting an ear to the door. Her phone buzzed and she gasped.

  It’s just me. No need to panic.

  Nick.

  Who said I’m panicking?

  You’re standing with your ear against the door. Of course you’re panicking.

  Victoria stepped backward, her heart thudding. Dammit. What makes you think that?

  Shadow beneath your door. Didn’t you learn a damn thing during training?

  She shoved her hair behind her ears and stifled a groan. Basic Sniper Training 101, for fuck’s sake. Be aware. She usually was, but having him here was throwing her off her game.

  Fuck off, she typed.

  More fun with a friend, he shot back.

  Victoria started to text something else, but then she shoved her phone in her pocket and yanked open the door. Why was she trading insults with him on a phone when he was right there?

  He was standing in the door to a room across the hall, leaning against the jamb like he had no cares. One eyebrow lifted when she appeared. Then he smirked.

  “Why are you giving me a hard time?” she growled.

  “Sweetheart, I’d love to give you a hard time. Anytime you want.”

  Victoria clenched her hands at her sides so she wouldn’t strangle him. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

  “Not trying to be. Just telling the truth.”

  “You never looked at me twice when we were in training.”

  “I looked at you all the time, Victoria. You just never caught me.”

  Her blood hummed through her veins, and her body stirred in ways she’d prefer it didn’t. She didn’t have time for this kind of distraction. Not right now. And not with him.