With Every Breath (11 page)

Dane may not like the man, but he owed him a hell of a lot, and he wasn't stupid. Wade had made a claim on Eliza that any man in a ten-mile radius could recognize. Eliza, on the other hand, was oblivious, but then she was clueless as to her effect on the male population. Always had been.

He could almost feel sorry for Eliza because Dane was effectively throwing her to the wolves—or rather wolf. One large, surly lone wolf. But even losing her trust, friendship and loyalty was worth it if the end result was her safety, and one thing Dane had learned in very short order was that what Wade Sterling considered his, he protected with his every breath.

Eliza couldn't be in safer hands. Even if she didn't yet realize it.

SEVEN

WADE
Sterling stood inside the open gate to Eliza's small courtyard which was surrounded by a privacy fence to give her seclusion not only in the front of the homey end unit but all the way around the townhome, encompassing the slightly larger backyard where she'd obviously spent a lot of time landscaping and making it into her escape from the rest of the world. He'd made sure he blended with the shadows so his presence wasn't detected until he was ready to reveal himself.

Not that he'd ever been invited
inside
her private domain. The few times he'd approached her in the parking lot in front of her building, she'd made it clear there would be no invitation into her inner sanctum. Her apartment looked like all the others in the complex—on the outside. Wade would bet everything he owned that the inside likely resembled the control room of the CIA or FBI. The image amused him. Hell,
she
amused him, and, he'd grudgingly—finally—admitted that not only was she a source of rare entertainment for him, but she intrigued and fascinated him. It wasn't a feeling he was accustomed to when it came to women.

He wouldn't go as far as to say he was an expert on females. Who in the hell in their right mind would ever make, much less convince others to believe, such an absurd statement. Women, especially their moods and temperaments, changed with the wind.

Except Eliza Cummings. He found that interesting indeed, because he was certain there were a multitude of things buried deep inside. Feelings, emotions, reactions she never allowed to surface because of training and rigid self-discipline that enabled her to suppress them, control them and never allow them their freedom.

He wondered just what it would take to unleash tightly controlled emotions. Then he shook his head in disgust. While he was skulking around her apartment building, not paying attention to his primary objective, she could have easily given him the slip and he wouldn't have known until it was too late.

As it was, Eliza would be pissed and likely shoot him on sight if she knew he was this close to her
and
that she was so completely unaware of his presence. Something that pissed
him
off.

A woman who made her living in security, protecting others, but, most importantly, keeping her own hide from being kidnapped, tortured or riddled with bullets just as she'd been a few short months ago should damn well have better instincts than this. And leaving her door wide open in the middle of the night without once doing a perimeter sweep set his teeth on edge. Was she just
trying
to get herself killed? Did she have some sort of morbid death wish and that was why she was an unstoppable force for DSS, always taking assignments even if she'd just come off of one after three days of no sleep? She needed a damn keeper, something he'd voiced to her before, and
that
hadn't gone over too well. Not that it was a huge surprise. But she couldn't continue her current pace. Even if her coworkers couldn't see it, Wade could see the shadows in her eyes that seemed to slowly grow deeper. She had a burned-out look that said if she didn't have her shit sorted in short order, it was only a matter of time before she got killed on a job. And for reasons he refused to examine or dwell on, that bothered him. It bothered him a hell of a lot. Hell, bothered was too mild of a term. It pissed him right the fuck off.

Observing her with her barriers down, when she thought no one was watching her, made him understand now why Dane Elliot had called him. He hadn't quite known what to make of the phone call or the fact that a man who had obvious animosity toward him had basically humbled himself by asking for help. He'd never admit it in a million years, but he'd already planned an impromptu visit to Eliza's apartment with every intention of finishing or at least going a hell of a lot further than the last two times they'd met. He was tired of dancing around. Dane's call had just caused him to make his move in haste instead of executing a well thought out plan of attack. One that sealed any possible escape routes.

The idea that
now
one of Eliza's team members was concerned after her two horrifying near-death experiences just pissed him the fuck off, and he rubbed at his chest to alleviate the sudden discomfort. What the fuck was he doing here as Dane fucking Elliot's puppet? Wade could check up on Eliza in his own time. His way. His terms. And he sure as hell wouldn't answer to anyone else like some hired lackey.

Why hadn't he told Dane that his babysitting stint was over with and that if he was so goddamn concerned about Eliza to put a team on her? The little time he'd spent with DSS, he respected and admired them and their work. He secretly approved of their tactics and the fact they didn't always do things by the book. Sometimes justice was best served by old-fashioned revenge.

He wasn't in the habit of lying to himself, but neither was he willing to admit the truth to anyone else. He'd already made up his mind to keep a very close eye on Eliza Cummings and insert himself into her life in ways she would not be happy about when Dane Elliot had called. It just gave him the excuse to do what he was already going to do without admitting to his own reasons for doing so.

And so here he was, spying on a woman who hated the very sight of him. She was hastily packing and not paying any damn attention to anything else. He supposed he could at least give her a small semblance of credit for not having the lights on because that meant no one could see into the house.

And so it was in the dark that she worked with quick efficiency to pack her belongings and the alarm system wasn't even on for fuck's sake. He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and throttle her for upending his well-ordered life from the moment she barreled into it and got in his face. He'd been fascinated. No, he'd been fucking obsessed from that moment forward. She'd dressed him up one side and down the other and despite her very real fury and loyalty to her teammates, Wade had never felt so compelled to kiss a woman in his life.

He almost
had
. But they'd had one clusterfuck of a situation going on and he'd had Gracie to protect, not to mention if he had so much as touched Eliza, she would have laid his ass out. Also, Dane would be on him before he could even push Eliza off and, well, then the rest of DSS would take great satisfaction in kicking his ass. Especially Zack, who had the most reason to harbor resentment.

Admittedly, the lights being off would prevent people from being able to see into her home, but the silent cloak of night didn't hinder him in any way. His eyes, well accustomed to the dark and seeing what most others couldn't make out in the shadows, could see her hurrying from room to room, tossing several suitcases on the couch in the living room and hurriedly stuffing clothing into them.

Hardly the actions of a woman who merely wanted a leisurely vacation and was in no hurry, had no worries, only where the wind blew her and taking some much-needed R&R. It looked to him as though after her “request” for vacation, she was getting out of town as fast as possible before any of her coworkers, or Dane, decided to pay her a visit to say their goodbyes. Odd behavior for a woman who treated the people she worked with as family, and if she truly was just taking some downtime, wouldn't she want to say her farewells?

His eyes narrowed as he continued to watch from his post. Eliza was definitely packing for an extended trip. But not a single item of clothing was remotely suitable for a vacation at the beach or any other place of leisure. In fact, other than jeans, shirts, underwear, socks and a pair of tennis shoes, the rest were fatigues, lots of camo. Face paint. And, Jesus, lethal-looking knives that took up one entire side of one of the suitcases.

He was astonished, and he had never been a man who was easily surprised. He'd learned his lessons young and had taught himself to always expect the worst and never be caught off guard or surprised by anything.

Shit. There went that rule . . .
again
. Fuck!

Her latest addition to her suitcase was several flashbang grenades but what really worried him was the addition of very real grenades and, Jesus, a stash of definitely illegal C-4 of the likes no average civilian would ever be able to get their hands on; and if that wasn't bad enough, there was also a shit ton of items one could use to build a bomb. Hell, she could probably build a nuclear missile. All she lacked was uranium. For all he knew, she had a stash of that somewhere as well. She certainly didn't lack for anything in her armory. She was better stocked than most third world military units. Was she planning to go to fucking war?

That idea froze his blood and he felt the stirrings of something he wasn't at all familiar with, having never experienced it, certainly not to this degree, but it felt like fear. And fear was not a weakness he ever allowed himself. Until now. Until
her
, goddamn it.

Most people either packed well ahead of time and lined their luggage by the door, got a good night's sleep and then embarked on an early flight the next morning. Or they procrastinated and packed last minute, getting to the airport barely on time. And just how the hell did she think she was going to get on a plane with a large enough arsenal to build an entire army? She wasn't dumb, so flying was out unless she had a private jet lined up. He'd looked into her finances and while she could live well on the generous salary DSS paid, she couldn't afford shit like private jets. For that matter she couldn't afford all the shit she was packing, even on the black market, which begged the question, how the fuck had she gotten her hands on this shit?

He didn't disagree that the fool woman needed a lengthy vacation that included plenty of rest and recovery. He'd wanted to shake some sense into her stubborn head when she'd insisted on accompanying her team on the takedown of the remaining fanatics whose only objective was to take the women of DSS alive and subject them to unspeakable experiments and tests; even animals were afforded kinder treatment.

But his built-in alarm system was beating like a mother fucker because, despite the fact it would infuriate Eliza that her privacy wasn't quite as carefully guarded as she liked to think, he knew a hell of a lot more about her impromptu vacation than even her overprotective watchdog/partner, Dane Elliot. Because right now? Along with that alarm system cutting into his every breath, his vision was hazy with fury and heat scorched over his body as he curled and uncurled his fists.

Vacation my ass
. If this was Eliza's idea of vacation—being a Rambo beach bunny—then the local economy of wherever she went would suffer because she'd scare the fuck out of everyone.

Although he had to hand it to Dane because the moment Eliza had breezed out of his office as if she hadn't a care in the world, Dane had been on the phone with Wade and crisply outlined the situation to him.

Wade's curiosity was instantly aroused—after he'd gotten over his rage of her blowing off steam with a fucking cabana boy—because Dane simply didn't give a fuck and he was a bare bones man of few words. It was his show. He ran the business. But apparently, when something really mattered to Dane—which Eliza clearly did—he didn't give a shit about putting it out there. And to Dane's credit, when he, like Wade—now that he'd seen her—had observed whatever fucked-up excuse she'd given—he hadn't bought her spontaneous, out-of-the-blue request for extended vacation time. Dane was in a very delicate situation, hence the phone call to Wade, which must have pained him to no end, because if he interfered either as a friend or employer, he'd lose Eliza's trust and he knew her too well. She'd leave. She'd never stay and work under people who'd betrayed her. Even for her own good.

Hell, Wade hadn't known Eliza a fraction of the time Dane had and even he knew that much about her. It would figure that after Wade had vowed to never cross paths with DSS again, that the cause of his injury—the reason for so many sleepless nights because he couldn't stop thinking about her—would be the thing that brought him right back into their crosshairs. Or so he had tried convincing himself of. He was such a liar.

He wasn't clueless when it came to women, and he knew damn well Eliza Cummings was every bit as much under his skin as the bullet he'd shielded her from. Yet another thing she'd been highly pissed about. Like he was any happier? His life would sure be a hell of a lot easier if he'd never met the blasted woman. He smiled ruefully to himself. Since when had he ever liked things easy?

As signals went, that one was pretty clear. Death was evidently preferable to having Wade anywhere in the vicinity.

But Eliza and Dane? As more than partners, and apparently close friends? Wade was very good at reading people and he'd never seen anything that hinted of Dane and Eliza having a romantic relationship. No sign that Dane was overprotective of her in the way a lover would lock her up if he had to—like Wade would if she were his—in order to keep her safe. The fact that Dane treated her like any other teammate, allowing her to assume the same risks as the others, told him that in no way Dane considered Eliza his woman. All he'd witnessed was a deep camaraderie, a sense of loyalty that was deeply ingrained in all of them. Each and every one of them would give his or her life for one of their family.