Extreme Measures

8

Landon Miller stood in the early morning darkness on the quiet, tree-lined street on Bainbridge Island and cursed his dumbass luck for the hundredth time.

He was gonna wring Archer’s motherfucking neck when he found the idiot.

Leave it to the dipshit to ruin the first vacation he’d had in over a year.

He thought of Marissa’s long, shapely legs and those stilletos she’d been wearing when they’d met. He’d picked her up in a hotel bar, waiting for his principal during his last assignment. She definitely wasn’t anything special, but the woman had a killer rack, and he’d been looking forward to locking her in his suite at the Fairmont and exploring her big tits, that tiny waist, and her luscious mouth from every angle during the next seventy-two hours. Now, though, he wasn’t sure she’d even be there when he finally got back. And thanks to this mess with Archer, she’d probably already found some other nameless guy to fuck senseless for the next three days.

Tension gathered in his shoulders, and he rolled his head from side to side as he eyed the white one-story home on the banks of the water. The streetlight above was burned out, the drive was empty, and the windows were dark. But that didn’t mean no one was home.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, then glanced down at the screen.

ADDISON: Find him yet?

His fingers flew over the keys as he typed a response to Marley at Aegis headquarters.

MILLER: Not yet. Located his hideout. Cell phone’s on and transmitting a signal, but the place is dark. Pretty sure he’s in there tho.

ADDISON: Be careful. Ryder’s not sure what you’ll find inside.

Landon frowned.

MILLER: Archer’s a dumbass, not a psycho.

ADDISON: I agree with you, but Ryder’s not so convinced. Authorities put out an APB on Archer in connection with the bombing.

MILLER: Fuck.

ADDISON: Pretty much.

MILLER: Ryder busting a vein yet?

ADDISON: Not yet. But it’s close. I’ve got Jake under control. Just get Archer out of there before the authorities find him. It’s not going to be long before they connect him with Aegis. Jake has first dibs on him.

Landon snorted. Yeah, he just bet Jake Ryder wanted to get his hands on Archer before Uncle Sam. Archer had been a loose cannon ever since the raid in Guatemala had gone to shit, not that Landon blamed him. That kind of fuckup wasn’t one you bounced back from easily. He hadn’t been surprised when Archer had fallen off the grid for nearly a year, nor had he been shocked when the guy had resigned from Aegis with no warning. But showing up in the middle of this fucking mess? Yeah, that was a new one, even for Archer.

MILLER: You deserve hazard pay dealing with Ryder on a daily basis, girlie.

ADDISON: You don’t even know the half of it. Call me when you’ve got Archer. And watch your six.

Landon smiled. Marley was a saint. How she put up with Ryder’s grouchy ass day in and day out he’d never know. God knew he couldn’t do it.

MILLER: Will do.

He pocketed his phone again and eyed the dark house. Thoughts of Marissa’s sinful mouth flashed in his mind, but they dimmed and faded when a shadow moved in front of the window.

If he was gonna go in, he needed to do it now, before dawn hit and before Archer decided to run again.

He just hoped like hell he didn’t have to shoot the fucker.

Zane was in heaven. The grinding beat of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” echoed through his ears, and against his lap, Juliet ground her luscious body and gasped.

He didn’t care that they were in a shithole apartment in the worst part of a crappy city. He didn’t care that Carter was in the next room taking his shift on watch. He didn’t even care what was happening outside these flimsy walls. All he could focus on was the woman straddling him, whispering naughty words, and doing insanely wicked things with her tongue.

“Zane . . .”

He tugged her mouth back to his, slid his tongue along her lips, and then dipped in for a sinful taste. And groaned when she leaned those full, heavy breasts against his chest and reached back to unlatch her bra.

“Zane . . .”

She never called him by his real name. He was pretty sure she didn’t even know his real name. Which meant this was special. It was . . .

Fuck. It wasn’t real.

His eyes shot open. Darkness surrounded him. Silence met his ears. He rolled his head to his right and found the bed beside him empty.

Son of a bitch. He jerked upright and looked at the broken zip tie around his wrist. The arousal he’d just been feeling fizzled and died. No fucking way.

He scrambled off the bed and cringed as pain shot up his leg. Grabbing his shirt from the floor, he tugged it on, then hobbled toward the door, cursing himself for being weak. For needing the drugs to cut the pain. For falling fucking asleep. He never should have dropped his guard with the black widow. Not when she—

His bare feet drew up short on the carpet when he stepped into the living room and found Eve asleep on the couch. Blonde hair fell across her face as she tossed her head from side to side, and her muscles were tensed and bunched, as if she were in the middle of a fight.

“No, don’t,” she moaned. “Zane, they’re taking her . . . Have to get them to let her go . . .”

A tightness took up space in the middle of his chest. He knew a thing or two about nightmares, and from the looks of it, she was smack-dab in the middle of a doozy.

Quietly, he moved into the room and tried to decide what to do while she thrashed from side to side. She definitely didn’t deserve any of his sympathy, but the last thing he wanted her to do was fall off that couch and hurt herself. Then she’d just be an even bigger pain in his ass than she already was.

Except . . . she hadn’t been. Not the way he’d expected. She’d tended his wound and gotten them somewhere quiet so he could rest. In the state he’d been last night, she could have overpowered him at any point, but she hadn’t. And she obviously could have run when she cut those zip ties. Yet she was still here. She was still with him.

His palms grew sweaty, and his pulse ticked up. He swiped his hands against his jeans and knelt on the ground in front of her. “Eve.”

“No . . .” She tossed her head again, all that light-blonde hair falling over her cheeks and eyes and lips. “Zane. Need help . . .”

He didn’t know what she was dreaming about, but unease lodged itself in his chest. Carefully, he placed a hand on her arm. “Eve. Wake up.”

She jolted, but he tightened his grip. Then her eyes flew open. Wide, fear-filled eyes that sent a tingle straight down his spine. Slowly, those eyes narrowed and focused on his face. “Ar-Archer?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, loosening his grip but still keeping his arm on hers, just in case. “You were having a bad dream.”

She looked up and around the dark living room like she’d never seen it before, then slowly shifted up to sitting.

He eased back on his heels and let go of her, waiting for . . . hell, he didn’t know what. Whatever she’d been dreaming about had rattled him in a way he didn’t expect. Especially because she’d called his name. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“I . . .” She placed a hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, still obviously rattled herself. “I don’t remember.”

Bullshit. He fought back the frustration. “Do you have dreams like this all the time?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean . . . I dream about the past, like they told us might happen, but not like this. I . . . I don’t know.”

PTSD. Yeah, he knew about it. Working for the CIA, they’d both been educated heavily in the aftereffects of an op. He still had plenty that kept him up at night. He just couldn’t help but wonder which one was tormenting her.

He ground his teeth at the pain in his leg as he pushed up, then sat on the couch next to her. He held up his wrist so she could see the one lone zip tie. “Should I even ask how you managed this?”

Her gaze flicked his direction, and something uneasy flashed in her eyes before she glanced quickly away again. “Oh . . . I . . . um . . . found a pocketknife.”

Where the hell would she have gotten a pocketkni—?

Zane patted his pocket and found it empty. A frown tugged at his mouth just before a memory flashed.

Heat—everywhere—grinding against his cock. Rubbing against his chest. Licking into his mouth in a sinful, suggestive way. And Eve’s breathy voice in the throes of passion, saying his name again and again. Warning—no, begging.

“Hold on.” His eyes widened. “That happened last night?”

Eve quickly pushed to her feet. “Nothing happened. Get your head out of the gutter. I snagged your pocketknife and cut the zip tie. Big deal.”

She moved into the kitchen, whatever PTSD she’d been experiencing long gone, but he saw the flash of pink in her cheeks. Confused, he followed and stared at her as she pulled the fridge open and warm light cascaded over her body. “Right. Nothing happened. Which explains why I woke up with a hard-on.”

She frowned his way, a sexy turn of her lips that only heated his blood all over again. “How you wake up and with what is not my concern.”

Understanding dawned, and his eyes grew wider. “You seduced me to get that damn pocketknife.”

“I did no such thing.” She slammed the fridge door shut and turned to face him. “I was simply looking for something in the nightstand so I could get the hell away from you. You’re the one who grabbed me and started getting all hot and bothered. You made it perfectly clear you don’t like me anymore, so why the hell would I not try to get free from you?”

“I’m the one who . . . ? How . . . ? What the hell does that . . . ?” Words sputtered from his mouth, and then his memory flashed again. Hot, sexy, erotic memories of her body grinding down against his erection, making him ache. Her gasps. Her moans. The way she pushed her tongue past his lips and kissed him—like she couldn’t get enough. Like a woman starved.

He glared at her. “You sure didn’t put up too much of a protest.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” She brushed past him for the living room again. “Nothing happened. End of story. Let it go, Archer.”

No, it wasn’t the end of things, and he wasn’t letting it go. Because between her calling for him this morning and what had happened last night, he needed to know just what kind of angle she was working now.

“Stop, Eve.” He grasped her arm and whipped her back to face him.

“Let me go, you jackass.” She pulled back from his grip.

“For once in your life don’t fucking lie.” He tightened his grip on her arm. “Why didn’t you run last night after you got free?”

She slowed her frantic fighting. Her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths, but she didn’t answer.

“Tell me the truth. Why are you still here?”

Her amber eyes slowly lifted to his and held. And something like remorse trickled through those pretty gems.

The tightness lodged in his chest felt like it expanded, cinching down his lungs, making it hard to get air.

“I . . .” Her gaze slid from his and searched the room, searching, he knew, for another lie.

He squeezed her arm. “The truth.”

“I . . .” She exhaled a long breath. “I was planning to run, you jackass. Then I came out here to flip on the news and make sure there was nothing linking me to the bombing when I saw . . .”

“Saw what?”

She scowled. “Your face. On the news. The FBI’s issued an arrest warrant for you in connection with the bombing.”

“Me?” Disbelief had the blood draining from Zane’s face.

“I don’t know how they connected you. Someone must have caught video or stills of you leaving the blast site. It’s no big deal, though. I mean, we’ll call Carter today like you were planning to do, and I’ll tell him everything. He’ll be able to help. I . . .” Eve’s brow dropped low, and she hesitated, as if thinking through something. But before Zane could ask what she was plotting next, her eyes flew wide. “Oh my God.”

“What now?” What could be worse than the FBI being after him? Fucking fantastic. His shitty luck was turning to pure crap right before his eyes.

“No. Oh my God.” She swayed and gripped the back of a chair.

“Eve?” Something wasn’t right. Her face had gone ashen. “What?”

“Oh my God. Olivia. They have Olivia.”

“Who the hell is Olivia?” Zane raked a hand through his hair. He’d had enough. It was time she spilled the beans. About everything. “Start at the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

“Olivia is”—Eve dropped into a chair, crossed her arms over her stomach, and began rocking back and forth—“my sister. Oh God, they have her.”

Wood splintered, and the front door crashed in. Zane and Eve both gasped and jerked that direction. And looked straight into the barrel of a SIG.

“Son of a bitch, Archer,” the man in the doorway said. “You’re in so much fucking trouble right now.”

Every muscle in Eve’s body tensed, but she was still in too much shock over what she’d just remembered to react. The man dressed in black pants, combat boots, and a black T-shirt dropped his gun to his side and glared Zane’s way. He was taller than Zane, his arms and thighs as thick as tree trunks, and every inch of his demeanor screamed military. “Ryder’s ready to blacklist you, and the Feds just issued an APB for your sorry ass.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know, Miller.” Zane strode to the door and shoved it closed. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. You didn’t have to come in all Rambo-like. You could have fucking knocked.”

Surprise flicked over Miller’s rugged face, and he straightened. “I didn’t know what kind of scene I’d find.”

He wasn’t a threat. He knew Zane. Not that that helped Eve’s queasy stomach. Memories bombarded her. Ones she’d obviously blacked out after the explosion. The image of the purple butterfly on Olivia’s ankle in the window of that cell phone. The van across the street from the café. The smug look of victory in her contact’s eyes when he’d said, “Very nice doing business with you, Ms. Wolfe.”

The explosion.

Eve groaned on a wave of pain so intense it stole her breath. She dropped her head into her hands.

“Shit, Archer. What the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Zane muttered. “I didn’t do anything to her. Eve?” Panic filled his voice. A panic she didn’t need right now. “Eve? Tell me what’s going on.”

His hands slid against her arms, and he tried to lift her out of the chair, but the pain caused her to kick out and push against him. “They killed her. Oh God, she was in the van when it exploded, and they killed her.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes and turned to fury as they slid down her throat. “And I could have gone after them, but you fucking drugged me, you asshole, and I didn’t remember until just now!”

She flailed against him, but he held her tight. Tighter than he had yesterday. “Eve, stop. Stop, goddammit!”

Rage turned a blinding red behind her eyes. She wanted to hurt him the way she hurt. Wanted to make them all pay. The muscles in her arms and legs burned from fighting. She’d given up her life for this? No. No, no, no . . .

“They didn’t find a body in that van,” Miller said from somewhere beyond Zane.

Eve stilled and looked toward the newcomer through locks of stupid blonde hair that had fallen over her face. A scar ran down the left side of his face. One she hadn’t noticed before. “Wh-what did you say?”

Miller slid the gun into his shoulder holster. “There was nothing in that van except C4 and a homemade detonator.”

“Are—are you sure?” Hope bloomed in her chest, and her fingers, curled against Zane’s bare chest, relaxed and flattened.

“Pretty damn,” Miller said, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. “Ryder’s got a contact at the FBI who’s giving us updates.”

Confused, Eve turned wide eyes up toward Archer.

“Jake Ryder’s my boss at Aegis Security.”

“Or was,” Miller huffed, crossing his massive arms over his chest. “Until you fucking quit.”

When . . . ? How . . . ? A thousand different questions swirled in Eve’s mind. “You quit your job? Why?”

“We’ll get to that later.” He loosened his grip on her arms. “After you tell us what the hell’s going on and why you think they—whoever they are—have your sister.”

Eve could barely think, let alone breathe. But if her sister hadn’t been in that van, then it meant she might still be alive.

She turned to Miller. “Give me your phone.”

“What? No way.”

“Give me your phone,” she said louder. “I need to make sure Olivia’s okay.”

“Eve.” Zane placed a hand on her arm. “Think. They could be monitoring her lines. You call her from here and they could trace it back to this location.”

Eve’s chest vibrated. He was right. But . . . She looked up at him. “I need to know she’s okay.”

Zane glanced toward Miller. Eve’s gaze followed. Several seconds passed, and then Miller sighed and said, “You so fucking owe me, Archer. Not just for this, but for the hot piece of ass I left alone in my suite to come out here and find you. I’ll text Marley and have her look into it.” He glanced toward Eve. “What’s your sister’s full name and address?”

Eve swallowed hard. “Olivia Wolfe. She’s a . . . a teacher. In Boise, Idaho.”

Eve rattled off her sister’s address and waited while Miller typed into his phone. To Zane she whispered, “Who’s Marley?”

“Just the heart and soul of Aegis Security.” When she looked over, he added, “Ryder’s right hand. She monitors and runs all the ops. She’ll be able to locate your sister, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry” were words Eve was used to telling others, not hearing for herself. Nerves vibrating, she waited with bated breath while Miller shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“Marley’s on it,” Miller said. “She’ll call or text when she has news. Now,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest, “why don’t you start talking, little lady? What’s your sister got to do with all of this?”

Eve looked from Miller to Zane, but when her eyes landed on Zane’s familiar hazel ones, her chest squeezed even tighter. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, especially after their argument earlier when he’d accused her of seducing him to get away, but she didn’t have any choice now, and maybe . . . maybe it would be better if she finally just told him everything.

She dropped into a side chair and pressed her fingers against her aching forehead. “I work for the counterintelligence division under Assistant Deputy Director Roberts. My job is to ferret out moles within the CIA so the government can build a case against them. Three years ago, I was sent to Beirut because someone in the Agency was working with a local munitions dealer funding terrorism throughout the Middle East. Someone on our side was trading secrets for money.”

When Archer didn’t say anything, Eve swallowed and lifted her eyes to his. Doubt lingered in his gaze. Doubt and distrust. And for the first time in forever, she wished she’d chosen any other profession than this one. Because he so wasn’t going to like what she had to say next.

“You and Carter weren’t the only team stationed in Beirut, Archer, but you were the only one CI was looking at. I was sent to Beirut to take you down.”