Colder than a fucking corpse in a meat locker.
It didn’t help her unease that he knew things he shouldn’t. Movement orders, the identities of covert operators, the names of people and places not written on any piece of paper or hidden on any hard drive in the basements at Langley.
He was government. That much was obvious. Someone near the tippy-top would be her guess.
And that was dangerous.
People at the top ate those beneath them.
“Get ready,” she told the men, narrowing her gaze on the Prius. It crawled along the dark road like a pale blue insect. So harmless. So unaware.
“Say the word.” Hummer’s thick hands tightened on the wheel.
She leaned forward as if she could inhale the moment. The seconds right before the action reminded her of the lead-up to orgasm. All the tension. All the anticipation. That ache for satisfaction. “Now! Ram her into those trees!”
Hummer stomped on the gas, and the van’s engine roared as the tires ate up the asphalt.
Vivian nearly moaned at the rush, at the spike of adrenaline and the giddy leap of her pulse.
When Hummer slammed the van’s front bumper into the car’s rear one, metal collided with molded plastic with a satisfying crunch. Tires screeched. The little car fishtailed once, twice. But the pretty brunette at the wheel couldn’t regain control.
When Hummer slammed the brakes, the crew in the back cursed as they slid across the cargo space. But Vivian? Her attention never wavered.
She watched the Prius skate off the road. The mud slowed it, just like she’d hoped. It clipped a few branches on the shorter trees before smashing into the thick trunk of a larger tree with a dull, perfect thud.
She threw her door open before the van came to a complete stop.
3
Black Knights Inc.
“What do you love most about being a soldier?” Sabrina angled her chin toward Hew but fixed her gaze on the fire pit. The red-orange flames danced in her pretty brown eyes, reminding Hew of melting chocolate.
“Notice I didn’t say ‘airmen,’” she added, with a self-satisfied grin. “Airmen are Air Force. Soldiers, even the ones who fly helicopters, are Army. Oh, the things I’ve learned in three months.”
Three months.
A mere ninety days.
In some ways, it felt like she’d just arrived. In others, like he’d known her forever.
When the Lake Michigan wind wasn’t sharp enough to slice through their clothes, it had become their custom to sit out by the fire pit after dinner. There was something mesmerizing about a fire. Something ancient and fundamental. The dancing display calmed the senses and soothed the synapses.
That’s what Sabrina needed. Calmness. Safety. Security.
He’d been doing his best to see that she got all three.
When he’d stayed quiet too long, her expression grew concerned. “Sorry.” She winced. “Was that too personal? I mean, I get how enlisting in this kind of work might be something you don’t want to talk?—”
“The thing I like most about bein’ a soldier is makin’ a difference,” he cut her off. “And what’s this bullshit about too personal? I thought we’d established nothin’ is too personal between us.”
He started ticking things off on his fingers. All the things he’d come to know about her in the three months she’d lived at Black Knights Inc. and took on the role of his best friend and confidante. “I know ya got your first period at twelve, and 'cause your ma was a mother in name only, ya thought you were bleedin’ out.” He sat back in his Adirondack chair. “I know Travis Parker was the first boy to kiss ya. Although I like to refer to him as Little Shit, on account of him catchin’ your lip with his braces.”
“He came at me like I was a pail of chum and he was a shark.”
“Ayuh. And when he made ya bleed, instead of apologizin’, he told the whole middle school you were the worst kisser in the history of kissers.”
A small smile played on her full lips. “He really was a little shit, wasn’t he?”
