Locke and Load (7 page)

A smile twitched her lips while she gazed out the window. “Swell. How are things up north?”

“Hot as hell.”

She laughed and scratched her temple. “Same here. I need you to work some of your magic for me.”

“Ah, and here I thought you were calling to hear my deep, sexy voice.” This time, he laughed.

“Of course. That’s always a bonus.”

“Okay, what can I do you for? Who do you need found?”

She smiled broader. TJ’s no-nonsense manner had always been an asset. “Check your email. I sent you a name and photo.” 

“Ah, the queen of efficiency. I see Florida hasn’t changed you yet.”

Not true, but her demeanor and reason for the change were her problem, not TJ’s.

“Marek Prochaska. Looks like a peach,” TJ commented dryly.

“Yeah, a rotten one.”

He chuckled. “You know how this works. I’ll have to run this in between my…
jobs
. Do you have a starting point?”

“Yes. Lock on my location.” Her phone was government issued, complete with GPS chip.

“Got it,” he said a few seconds later. “What time?”

“Yesterday afternoon.” She turned around and stared at the two watchful detectives. Her gaze shot from Delaney to Cage before she continued. “He left here at about five thirty-three.”

The two men nodded.

“Okay. I’ll start the search a few minutes earlier, say around five twenty-five,” TJ informed. “I won’t kid you, this could take a day, maybe more. It’ll depend on how long it takes me to get past…ah, you don’t need to know. I’ll call you when I get a hit.”

“I understand. Thanks, TJ, I appreciate it,” she replied before hanging up, her heart heavy. A few days? Damn. She was hoping the case would be closed and she’d be back in D.C. in a few days. Away from temptation. Away from putting Cage in danger.

Away from Cage.

“So, what now?” Delaney asked before bringing the cup to his lips and tipping his head back to drain what was left of his coffee.

“Now we wait.”

The detective nodded and tossed his to-go cup in the garbage next to his desk. “For how long?”

“A day or two.”

“Days?” Cage’s brows knit together as he stomped closer and joined the conversation. “What the hell do you mean a day or two? Who did you call? Mr. Magoo? I thought you were a spook. Don’t spooks have access to top of the line technology?”

Nikki knew she should be angry at his words, but instead, she found them funny. Laughter raced up her throat with the speed of a bullet. Her outburst echoed through the room, catching Cage off guard, causing him to blink while Delaney’s mouth split into a grin.

There was no reason to laugh. The words Cage uttered weren’t unusual. She walked to the desk to retrieve her coffee, sobering enough to take a sip as she shook her head. Maybe if she had gotten some proper sleep, she wouldn’t have found the glowering detective so amusing.

His expression darkened further. “I’m glad you think wasting time is so funny, Ms. Locke.”

“I don’t. It’s you I find funny.”

Lord, she really had to do something about her thought process. Whatever happened to think before you speak?

Delaney’s snicker broke through the tense silence.

“We aren’t wasting time,” she told Cage, jamming her free hand on her hip. “TJ is the best there is. He can’t just stop the other projects he’s working on to run our surveillance. He’ll fit us in when he can and call when he gets a hit.”

Cage’s jaw clenched, a myriad of emotions claiming his expression, all of them grim. He swiveled around and strode from the office without so much as a word.

The Jersey detective rose to his feet and stepped close to place a hand on her shoulder. “You know he’s only grumpy because he still has feelings for you, right?”

A combination of the friendly gesture and the words brought fresh tears to Nikki’s eyes. Damn, and she had been doing so good, too. She blinked against the stinging and patted his hand. “He’s better off without me.”

Those words kept echoing through her mind all through the next day as she found herself sequestered with Cage in his house. The captain and other three detectives insisted it was for her safety until they found Prochaska. They had this foolish notion the Czech might have figured out she’d helped them the other afternoon.

Little did they know they were putting her in a different type of danger.

Swallowing a curse, she loaded the last of the supper dishes into the dishwasher and straightened. Now what? Normally, she had no problem with waiting around. Hell, half of her job involved hours and hours of surveillance. But being cooped up with detective-sexy was a very bad idea. Irritation and annoyance only compounded the pent-up sexual energy simmering inside the damn house.

She glanced past Cage lounging on the couch and studied the people on the beach in the distance. If only she could go outside. A run. A good run would do her wonders, or a vigorous swim in the Atlantic.

“Forget it, Locke,” he said without looking up from the newspaper he was now reading for the third time that day. “You can’t go for a jog.”

Bugger always could read her mind. She walked across the room and dropped down in the chair opposite him.

“Here.” He thrust the puzzle page at her and shook it. “You always liked to work on these.”

No. She always liked to work on those with him. Not alone. But it didn’t matter. She waved him off. “Did them three hours ago.”

He glanced at the page and frowned. “So you did. Guess you’ll have to find something else to do.” The paper hit the coffee table. He shrugged and returned his attention back to whatever he had been reading.

For the next ten minutes, her gaze traveled around, but the only thing interesting in the room was Cage. The way he held the newspaper covered his face, but she could see the top of his head and that thick crop of dark hair she’d once loved to run her hands through…and tug tight. Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair until her knuckles turned white. The longer style he now sported only deepened the urge trembling through her fingers. She’d had that pleasure the day before yesterday just outside the door in the backyard shower.

Jeez. It felt like a thousand degrees despite her tank top and shorts. Was the air conditioning on? Heat emanated from him and pricked her skin with tiny electric currents.

A muffled curse broke the silence a moment before he tossed the rest of the newspaper onto the table. Startled, she glanced up, her fingers still clutching the chair.

The already charged air instantly thickened.

C
age’s smoldering green gaze crashed into hers.
Ah, crap
. Nikki’s heart pounded a warning in her chest and ears.
Get up!

She needn’t have worried. In the next second, he jumped to his feet then stomped off, cursing under his breath. She closed her eyes and slumped back, hand on her thudding chest, willing her heart to adopt a slower beat.

A door slammed closed and echoed through the house. She let out a sigh and stood. This was insane. How the hell was she supposed to endure this torture? And not just her. She wasn’t naïve. The situation was hell on Cage, too.

Walking through the kitchen, she swiped her phone off the island and muttered her own curse. No missed calls, no emails. No relief from her prison.

The irony of her situation was not lost on Nikki. Once upon a time, she’d been imprisoned by another man—one she hated. This time—she was imprisoned with one she loved.

Neither was healthy.

She pocketed her phone and headed for the sanctity of her room. Better to keep her distance and give him his space. After all, it was his house. She was just about to enter her room when the bathroom door flung open and a freshly showered Cage stepped into the hall. The fact he only wore a towel was not lost on Nikki, nor was the heat that still smoldered in his gaze.

Oh, shit.

How was she supposed to resist him when he looked at her as if she was the only woman he ever wanted and if he didn’t have her he was going to die?

She opened her mouth, unsure what to say, but it didn’t matter. A moment later, his mouth was on hers before she could blink. He moved so fast it stole her breath, and her reasoning.

Hungry lips slanted across hers, and he slid his tongue inside and tripped her pulse. Her body’s reactions to his advances were so different than with Rojas. Cage’s fierce desire and passion inspired, touching off a spark deep inside her.

He wasn’t violent or oppressive, and she didn’t feel violated. She felt…a hunger. Need. Desire.

As he walked her backwards into her room, she clung to his broad shoulders, feeling his strength through his warm, damp skin.

Push away.

Common sense broke through her haze enough to plant the suggestion in her head. She should send him from her room. But then she wouldn’t feel alive. Her heart would beat with a boring thump of existence, not the rapid thumping of desire coursing through her body, reminding her she was normal…human…alive. And right now, Nikki wanted to feel, not just exist.

So when the back of her legs hit the bed and she began to fall, Nikki didn’t even try to remain vertical. She released him, fell back with a thud, and watched his emerald eyes darken when she sat up to rip off her shirt. A split second later, he was crawling over her, kissing a path up her body while his hands made quick work of her bra. The white lace joined her tank top on the floor.

“God, I want you,” he said before capturing a nipple in his wicked mouth and the other in his hand, reacquainting her body with his touch.

She stilled, waiting for the repulsion…but it never came.

Even when she’d taken this step with Rook, Nikki hadn’t been able to lie beneath him. She’d taken top. But with Cage, her mind was too fogged to think straight, let alone remember anything. All she knew was she needed to touch him. Too feel him. All of him.

She grabbed his head, thrusting her fingers through his glorious hair, and held him tight to her chest. His groan vibrated through her and sent a slice of pleasure trembling to her core.

With a small tug, she pulled his mouth back to hers, touching his lower lip with her tongue before slipping inside to slide over the roof of his mouth and elicit another of his sexy, low sounds.

She lived for those groans. She lived for him.

Without breaking the kiss, he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and ran his hands down her body, one stopping to cup her ass while the other caressed her shoulder blade.

If this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up.

Fueled by a need to feel and taste, she drew back to explore with her hands and lips all the muscles and ridges he’d added to his body since the last time they’d made love.

“Yes,” he crooned, hands loosely on her shoulders. “Love me like you used to.”

She smiled into his chest, her hand running down his magnificent torso until the towel met her fingers. About to free the erection she longed to feel pulsing inside, she found herself underneath him again, his mouth claiming hers in a long, drugging kiss.

Heat rushed through her limbs and she shook with a yearning long absent in her life.

He left her mouth to bite the curve where her shoulder met her neck. Damn, he was good. He remembered her special spots that had her putty in his hands. She moaned, arching into him, gripping his back as goose bumps raced down her side.

“That’s it,” he said against her throat, his voice husky and low while his hips matched her movements. “Give me what you’ve given the other men. Give me what used to be mine.”

Air shot from her lungs.
Other men?

She stiffened, then pushed him off and rolled away until she fell on the floor. “What?”

He leaned on one shoulder and looked down at her, desire still heating his gaze. “You left me for another man.
And
you’re a spook. You’ve had sex with men you don’t like.” He shrugged. “I know you like being with me. I just want you to give me what you used to. Give me what you’ve given them.”

Nikki’s heart rocked into her ribs and hurt so bad she swore it would burst from her chest. She’d never given anyone what she’d given Cage. What he brought out in her…what they’d shared was special.

Her few times with Rook had kind of been a therapy, an exercise in finding her feet again, so to speak. The only other man she’d been with since Cage was a bastard. A monster.

Now, she suddenly wished this was all a dream. That none of this was real. That he’d never said such horrible words.

She slowly lifted her gaze, unsure what she was looking for, just wishing there was something that would take away the pain. Green eyes stared openly at her, without malice, without hatred, and she realized the stone cold truth.

He wasn’t being cruel. He was being honest.

Four years ago, Nikki had done her job well. Too well. Cage was supposed to think she’d slept around. He was supposed to think she’d cheated. That was the only way to ensure his safety. Her eyes and throat burned, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down her face. There was no denying, this was a bed she alone had made.

God, it hurt like hell.

Inhaling, she swiped at her face and nodded at the door. “You should go.”

His gaze narrowed and he opened his mouth as if to protest, but her phone chose that moment to ring. She shifted slightly to fish the cell from her pocket. A quick glance at caller ID had her gaze shooting back to Cage.

“Hi, TJ.”

Cage immediately straightened, his gaze never leaving her face.

“Hey, sunshine. I found your man.”

She nodded at Cage. “Good. Where?”

“A camera on the eastside docks picked him up entering a warehouse ten minutes ago.”

Her heart rocked. “Where?”

She immediately recognized the address he spouted.

“I made a timeline and a copy of his travels and sent it to your email.”

“You’re the best, TJ. Thanks. We’re on our way. Let me know if he leaves.” She hung up and rose to her feet, grateful her hair was long enough to cover her naked chest as she faced a now standing Cage. “Call the others. Have them meet us at the docks where Drew was murdered.”

I
t was ridiculous.

Prochaska finally surfaced and they were on their way to where the Czech was last seen, yet all Cage could think about was Nikki’s wounded expression as she had sat on the floor in his guest bedroom.

Even now his stomach clenched as he recalled the tears rolling down her face. Why had she cried? Why had she looked so hurt? He hadn’t meant to say anything hurtful. He was just being honest. He wanted her. That in itself was tough to admit out loud. But he had, and continued to tell her the truth. She’d given other men what she used to give him. He wanted all of that, too…

Shit.

He stiffened and momentarily closed his eyes as he realized his mistake.
Ah, hell.
He’d practically called her a whore
.
Opening his eyes, he glanced sideways at his silent passenger. She sat next to him in black tactical shirt and pants, rapid response boots, her gorgeous hair pulled back in a ponytail, posture stiff, gaze straight ahead, expression unreadable.

Nothing about this tough, composed agent resembled the woman who, less than twenty-minutes ago, had writhed underneath him, hair fanned out, her face and eyes alive with desire.

“Looks like Wilson and Hutchins just got here,” she said, pointing to the other detectives shutting the doors of their SUV.

Cage parked alongside as Delaney pulled in behind him. “Jersey’s here, too.” He motioned in the mirror.

Nikki nodded and made to get out, but Cage grabbed her arm. He couldn’t let his actions go unsaid.

“Wait. Nikki, look…I’m sorry.”

She turned to him and frowned, confusion muddying her brown eyes. “About what?”

“About what I said. I—”

“Don’t be,” she cut him off, gently freeing her arm. “Forget about it. It’s not important.” She withdrew her gun—a top of the line Kimber—from behind her back and nodded. “Let’s go get Drew’s killer.”

The agent was out of the car, marching toward Hutchins before he could reply. Fine. She wanted to brush it off, it was brushed off. He joined the group, all four men readying their weapons as Locke checked in with her man to make sure Prochaska was still in the warehouse.

“Roger that. Thanks, TJ,” she said before hanging up and storing the cell in her pocket. “He’s still inside.”

“Right.” Hutchins nodded. “Wilson and I will go in through the front; you three have the back and side.”

A few seconds later, he was outside the back door with Locke and Delaney.

“You two take this one, I’ll take the side,” Jersey said as he continued on.

Cage waited until his partner rounded the corner before he looked at Locke and asked, “Ready?”

She stepped back, gun drawn. “Ready.”

Opening the door, Cage went high, she went low, and together they entered the dimly lit building. Damp and musty, the unpleasant scent rose up to meet him, clogging his throat the further in they searched. Rows of skids with boxes piled to his chest columned the floor.

Slow and methodical, he and Locke zig-zagged their way through the maze until they met up with Delaney.

“Anything?” His partner asked.

“No. You?”

Jersey shook his head. “What about Wilson and Hutchins?”

“Over here.” Hutchins’ voice echoed through the warehouse. “Looks like we’re too late.”

He exchanged a frown with Delaney and Locke before rushing toward the front of the other end of the warehouse. They found Hutchins and Jersey standing in front of more skids and boxes by a set of open bay doors.

“What do you mean too late?” he asked, unable to keep his anger at bay. “Locke’s guy said Prochaska was still here. How the hell did he leave?”

A gust of air blew off the ocean, carrying with it an unmistakable stench…and his answer. Cage knew what he’d find before he even rounded the boxes.

Death.

Marek Prochaska lay in a pool of blood, eerily similar to that of Cage’s late partner. Knowing not to contaminate the scene, he kept his distance and refrained from feeling for a pulse. There was no need. The man had a gaping hole between his eyes. He clenched his jaw against the bile rushing up his throat.

A death befitting of this criminal. Not Drew.

“He was dropped where he stood,” Locke observed, her gaze scouring the body and floor. “Recently.” A second later, she stiffened, then glanced at the open doors.

“What is it?” Delaney raised his gun and slowly walked to the threshold. Wilson and Hutchins followed.

“Feels like we’re being watched…” She continued to glance out at the busy dock, her shoulders taut, gaze alert. She lifted her phone and hit a button, no doubt calling her man in D.C. “This had to happen while we were moving in.”

Shit. Someone had used a silencer on a riffle?

The instant he stepped next to her, two bullets whizzed between them. One above their heads, the other a little lower, grazing his shoulder as he grabbed Nikki and yanked her behind the boxes.