Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3) (24 page)

“You don’t feel forced,” she said, with a wave of concern that made her recall other things Art had said while he was dying. “He said that you loved me, that I loved you, that’s not the reason that… that’s not why you picked me or let me hang around while you were grieving.”

Cupping her face, he grazed his thumb over her cheek. “Art had a way of knowing what I was thinking before I did. You’re sort of the same in that way. He knew that I loved you, I just couldn’t say it because… I don’t know, because I just couldn’t.”

“You say it now,” she said. Though she could count on one hand the number of times he had said it, she still liked to hear it. “I wonder what Art would think about this, about us finding our way together, about how the Kindred has changed without him.”

“We haven’t changed that much,” Brodie said. “He’d be pissed at me for dropping the ball for so long.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, leaning against the high arm of the couch and lifting her legs over his lap. “He wouldn’t want your grief to consume you. But I think he would appreciate you grieving him, it showed how much you cared… it showed me a lot about who you are, and that his death affected you in the way it did was endearing.”

He blinked. “Endearing?”

“I was flying in the dark. I could barely find my way to the garage, and it’s right at the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing or how to run this place.”

“I let you down.”

“No,” she said, sitting up and holding the back of the couch to help her keep her balance while his strong hands rested on her legs to give her an anchor. “I liked looking after you and that you let me… I appreciated it. Seeing you affected like that, it made me hope that you could one day love me… and now you do. Being thrown in at the deep end was the only way I’d have learned. Otherwise, it would’ve been too easy for me to let you or Art do everything. This place, and you, it’s home to me now. I don’t feel like just a guest when I’m here. I just wish we didn’t have to lose Art for us both to learn our lessons.”

When his gaze left hers and he started to caress her legs, she worried that she’d pushed too far. In speaking about Art and that dark time in their lives after losing him, she was reawakening demons that Brodie had barely managed to put back in their box. Sliding a hand to his face, she pulled him closer to kiss his cheek then nuzzled near his ear.

“I love you and I will always be here. I will always be beside you… no matter what we face.”

He didn’t respond in words. His hands stopped on her flesh and he breathed for a few seconds. Then in a quick action, he scooped his arms beneath her body and stood up, carrying her off.

“Even when I’m being a jerk, I’d never walk away from you,” he said, taking her to the door.

It was nice to get that assurance and to know that even if one was out of line, it wouldn’t jeopardize their love. “Where are we going?” she asked because with Brodie, she could never be sure what he had planned.

“Time to go to bed, partner.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” she responded and opened the kitchen door to let them out of the room.

“Who said anything about sleep,” he said. She should’ve realized that he was talking about sex after his reference to spending the night thinking about her.

“Shouldn’t we be planning tomorrow’s op?”

“You might get to call the shots to ensure a team effort in the field,” he said, stopping on the stairs to bend and put her down. With the upper stair digging into her lower back, she was forced to arch against him when he lowered to kiss her, then he murmured his words into her mouth. “But don’t forget who’s in charge of this body in the bedroom.”

“We’re not in the bedroom,” she teased, opening her arms wide to drape them over his shoulders.

“Wherever the fuck we are, your pussy is mine. If I want it, you bend over and yield.”

The tickle of her clothes made her wriggle and wish they were in the bedroom. “Tuck is home,” she whispered, tightening her arms to lift herself into another kiss. “We should go to bed… where it’s private.”

“He said he was going to sleep.”

“He also said he was going to talk to Zave, and he could be downstairs doing that.” Meaning he would have to come upstairs to go to bed, and finding them in flagrante delicto while he was aching for Kadie would be incredibly insensitive.

“Whatever you want,” Brodie said and scooped her up again. This time they were torso to torso, giving her access to kiss his throat as they ascended. “You said we had to talk to Cuckoo. Don’t you want to get that out of the way instead of taking it to bed with us again?”

Running his hands down her hair that was cascading around her, he didn’t bother holding her tight because she was clinging to him so much that their bodies were glued, just as they loved to be.

“We’re getting some sleep, some food, recharging. Once the sun goes down, we’ll get her at the apartment. While we’re there, Tuck will clear her from the CI systems so she’ll have nothing to go back to.”

Being an ex didn’t warrant her any kind of special respect. Brodie was pissed. In a few short hours, the bane of both their lives would be erased from the picture, and she should take Griffin Caine with her.

Brodie was right about one thing. Sleeping through most of the day and then enjoying a meal with Tuck while Zave and Thad were on video chat with them did leave her feeling recharged. Everyone was in lock step, and they were determined to achieve their goal. Brodie chose to fixate on taking down Kahlil and Leatt, and in drawing out Sikorski, so she kept her mouth shut about his parents and the others seemed to be doing the same.

Acting as though receiving that information was just incidental seemed to be Brodie’s way of dealing with it. For now, while they were still mission-focused, it would work. After time and distance, Zara would worry about being the girlfriend who had to help her man work through whatever consequences this news would have.

When she got the time to think about it in the shower before they left the manor, she’d prepared herself to go through another mourning period with Brodie. Yes, his parents had been gone for two decades. From how he relayed the story to her in the past, losing them had been the catalyst for his darkness to seep in. Art had pulled him out of that once, and she had done it after Art was lost.

If she had to do it again, then she would. Loving someone wasn’t about the good times or the adventurous missions. It meant sticking with them even when they went a bit crazy, as she had done after losing Grant and losing her way. Brodie had been there even when she jetted across the country, no distance was too far for him to travel to get her back.

These wonderful romantic thoughts kept her warm as she climbed off the back of his motorcycle and handed him her helmet. “I’m trying hard to remember how good you are in bed,” she said while he hooked the helmets on the handlebars. She took that move as a good indication that they wouldn’t be upstairs for long.

This was her apartment building and a place where they’d shared happy memories. Except this wasn’t one of those times. Brodie was sure that this confrontation with Cuckoo should happen here and that doing it as a team was best. Zara thought she understood that logic, until the bike stopped in the rear service alley and they got off. Abstract was over, she had to follow through.

He didn’t respond to her quip, just unzipped his jacket to reveal the black tee shirt she’d watched him don after creeping into the shower with her and interrupting her thoughts. He was good in bed. He was attentive. He’d kill for her if she asked him to. Listing the reasons she loved and respected him was helping her with the turmoil the anticipation of this meeting was causing.

Brodie took her hand, linking their fingers together while he entered the security code to get into the building through the rear. He knew his way through this building like it was his own, and he should, he’d snuck in here enough times in the dead of night.

“You have the power to talk me into anything,” Zara grumbled as she followed him up the stairs, trailing one step behind him. Out-sassing Cuckoo when they were alone was fun. With Brodie in the fray, things could get dirty.

Brodie’s hand slipped out of hers. He slowed to skim it up her spine and moved in close enough to speak into her hair. “You had my cock in your throat twenty minutes ago. If things get too tough in there, feel free to call that out.”

Turning her glare onto him, she couldn’t help but feel he was enjoying this. “Hope that memory is clear in your mind, bucko, ‘cause it’ll have to last you a long time if things get tough in here. I still don’t get why I have to be here.”

They kept moving up the stairs, one gradual step at a time, making virtually no sound. “Solidarity. And she’s a woman. I can’t smack her around if she starts shit.”

Zara stopped and with a hand on his chest, she brought him to a halt on the step below hers. “You expect me to smack her around? Throw in some jello and a couple of bikinis and you’ve got yourself a show.” He inhaled to retort, but she lifted a finger. “You make a quip about a threesome, and you’ll be in the basement for the next month with only Maverick to keep you warm at night.”

Pulling on her neck to bring them together, he burrowed his mouth in her hair and the quick, shallow huffs of humidity in her locks made her think he was amused. “You are the complete package, Swallow.”

As much as she appreciated unsolicited compliments, she surrendered her tension to rest her body against his then lifted in a full body nudge. “Get your game face on, Rave. We’re here to evict an enemy.”

“On it,” he said and separated their bodies to continue up the stairs. They were one flight away when he spoke again, and their easy rapport was gone. “Baby, anything she says in there…”

“She could never make me doubt us,” Zara said, wanting to reach out and reassure him. Bringing her here, doing this as a couple, was a risk for him. He hadn’t said it aloud, but the trust exercise for them would be a harsh slap in the face for Cuckoo, and that was what she needed.

Much as she hated to face it, Zara had to admit that Brodie knew the psycho and knew how to influence her. This unannounced meeting was about more than getting Cuckoo out of CI. This was about Brodie showing his ex that there was no equivocation. He didn’t want her, didn’t love her. He belonged to another woman, and he wasn’t interested in playing Cuckoo’s games. 

Zara wasn’t sure of the etiquette when going to your own apartment to evict an unwanted, unofficial, tenant from the property. That Cuckoo was Brodie’s ex was just another factor complicating the situation.

She didn’t have to ask questions, her man had a handle on how to deal with this. Zara would take her lead from him. Brodie took a key from his pocket—one she didn’t know he had—and put it in the lock. “Is that my key?” she asked because she didn’t have her purse with her.

“The spare from the drawer,” he said and glanced down at her. “You should keep better track of this shit. Do you know how easy your place is to break into?”

Well, that was a dumb question, one that gave her an opportunity to get her sass on. “Having walked in on a certain unexpected guest more times than I can count,” she hissed. “Yes, I do.”

He kissed her head. “Hang back a second.”

So she’d come all this way just to act as look out. Fine by her. Brodie opened the door just enough for him to go inside, then he stayed put, blocking the gap in the entrance. There were cameras at the manor and while Tuck was working to erase Cuckoo from CI he was also watching the feed that had been switched over to the security room monitors.

“Showing up unannounced,” Cuckoo drawled from somewhere in the apartment. Zara couldn’t see where because Brodie was in the way. “Rude, but not unwelcome. You’re not a patient man or a considerate one. You take what you want… so take it.”

The seductive lilt of the accent as it rolled off her tongue didn’t make Zara jealous. In fact, hearing the European list Brodie’s apparent attributes amused her. Brodie was patient, when he wanted to be, and he had to be considerate of her now that they were sharing a bedroom. Cuckoo had a point about his sexual proclivities, but Zara was confident he’d been sated at the house, so he wouldn’t be taking what Cuckoo was putting on offer.

“I’m not here to play games, Mischa. I’m here to tell you to pack your shit. You’re on a plane tonight.”

“Your little project pouting, is she?”

Brodie moved forward, and Zara took this as a cue for her to make herself known. Following her love inside, she closed the door with a flat hand. Brodie took a sideways step, which allowed Zara to see her apartment and Cuckoo, who was in the middle of the room wearing a long silk robe.

The alluring pose allowed one leg to peek through the material, but when she registered Brodie wasn’t alone, she quickly straightened and pulled the fabric over her knee. “What is this?”

“You’ve fulfilled your purpose,” Zara said, stopping beside Brodie, who draped an arm over her shoulders. “Your services are no longer required. You’re fired. Put it anyway you like.”

“You have to get out of town,” Brodie said.

“You cannot be serious,” Cuckoo said, her gaze darting between them before her hands came to rest on her hips. “Is she so insecure that—”

“This isn’t her,” Brodie said. “It’s me. You’ve had Caine on my tail for years, reporting to you. You can play him like a fiddle. I don’t need that shit. You’re pathetic.”

Zara hadn’t expected him to be so direct. Shock made Cuckoo blink a dozen times, expressing that she hadn’t expected it either. It was a smart move to use the same words and tone with Cuckoo that she had used to describe Caine, but it had to be ego bruising.

“This is a game,” Cuckoo said. “It’s all a game.”

“And that’s why you’ll never get the prize,” Brodie said.

“Because you’re the only one playing,” Zara said. They hadn’t rehearsed this, but being here to witness the wrath of Cuckoo build behind that flawless face made her anxiety worth it. Now Zara understood her true purpose for being here. Brodie wanted to shatter any and all hope Cuckoo might have of winning his affection.

“You can’t give me what I want,” Brodie said. “I thought you were a smart woman, but all this time you’ve been chasing after me like a lost little pup. I need my woman to be stronger than that. Need my woman to be able to handle herself.”

“I can handle myself,” Cuckoo asserted, as though the suggestion that she couldn’t was offensive. “I have run companies, I have—”

“Always had guys give you what you want,” Brodie said. “You’re no match to my girl. You can’t live up to her. She can’t be replaced and sure not with the likes of you.”

Zara was learning new things about herself, Cuckoo was getting her just desserts, and Zara enjoyed watching it. “The likes of…” Cuckoo stuttered. “I am a hundred times the woman she is!”

Brodie’s arm slid farther around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “She got to the top by working hard and proving herself, all you’re good for is a suck and fuck. Any board in the world you haven’t whored yourself for? That doesn’t make you worthy, it makes you sad.”

“Pitiful,” Zara said. Another word Cuckoo had used to describe Caine.

The confused dismay on Cuckoo’s face grew until suddenly it vanished and she smiled. “You’re saying these things because she is here,” Cuckoo said, pinning her disgust on Zara. “You don’t know who he is. You don’t know what he needs.”

“There’s only one thing I need,” Brodie said. “The woman at my side now.”

“No!” Cuckoo asserted, curling her manicure into her palms. “You love me! You only left because of that sick, stupid old man—”

“If that was true, why didn’t Raven come back to you as soon as he was free of that man?” Zara asked. Referencing Art was rocky territory, and Zara still felt protective of Brodie’s feelings for his uncle. “I understand your pain. I can’t imagine what it would be like to love Raven and not have him reciprocate. But you lost any sympathy that we might have had for you when you told me what you did to Caine… You don’t love Caine, you played him. Stalking Raven was never going to make him fall in love with you because this isn’t about love, it’s about control. You wanted Raven because he was the one man who walked away from you before you were done with him.”

“You know nothing,” Cuckoo said, lowering her voice to a growl. “He called me here, gave me his company because he—”

“Cormack Industries is no longer under your control,” Zara said. “Your credentials have been revoked, and an announcement will be made tomorrow that you are no longer with the firm. It will also be announced that CI is merging with Knight Corp, and talks will begin next week to arrange the terms of that union.”

Zara didn’t care that the woman was angry, she didn’t care that Cuckoo felt belittled and victimized. This situation only occurred because of the way Cuckoo handled herself. Dragooning a man into a life of servitude, forcing him to stalk and harass the apparent object of her love, showed Zara Cuckoo’s level of compassion, and it was the level she’d get in return.

“Pack your shit,” Brodie said. “You’re done.”

“A taxi will be here for you in ten minutes,” Zara said.

Cuckoo squeezed her lips together and held her breath. Zara wondered if she was going to have a full-on toddler tantrum. Releasing the steam of fury in one long inhale, Cuckoo spun around and marched into the bedroom, slamming the door behind herself.

“Should we go after her?”

“Why?” Brodie asked. “If she climbs out the window, we get what we want. There’s nothing in there she can steal. I had all the furniture moved out of here and put into storage. Nothing in here is our responsibility ‘cause everything you see was rented in Cuckoo’s name.”

Circumstance had prevented her from voicing her gratitude. “Except your chair,” she said, recalling it in their manor bedroom.

“That’s right,” he said and squeezed her close.

“She could call up reinforcements,” Zara said.

Pushing her forward, Brodie moved her to the black leather couch that faced toward the windows and sat down. Zara stayed upright, looking around at the familiar space that was now alien to her. She had been full of ideals when she bought this apartment, few of which had come to fruition.

Zara couldn’t deny that the space was beautiful with its hard wood floors and grand columns, but it wasn’t her home anymore. It wasn’t her sanctuary. Though she couldn’t pinpoint if that was because she considered the manor her home now or if because Cuckoo had sullied this space so it no longer felt clean or safe.