Damn it. “I am not a fucking Bratz doll. If anything I’m a Bratva doll. One whole side of my family is syndicate, you know.”
Sosa shrugged, her eyes widening as though sayingthank you for making my point. “Yes, that is where the Bratz dolls come from. Everyone in Russia knows this. They are dressed like the syndicate whor…lovely women who take care of physical needs in exchange for many presents.”
“I would like to talk to you about honey pots, Taggart,” Ben said suddenly.
What?
She was rapidly losing control of this situation.
Kenzie stopped the car near the end of the drive. There was only one way to deal with Sosa and that was to beat the shit out of her. She felt for the young woman, but sometimes the pack hierarchy needed to be reenforced. She put the car in park in front of the gate. On either side was a line of trees so they had some privacy. “All right. It’s time for fight club.”
Her dad turned to her. “You know how much I love a fight club, but now is not the time. Also, have you considered that…” He glanced back at Sosa. “Are there dude Bratz dolls?”
Sosa shook her head and didn’t seem deeply concerned that Kenzie was about to wrap her arm around her throat and squeeze. “Yes, but they are sad. They wear very…how do you say…bags of douches clothing. But our friend here is not like that. He is Canadian Ken doll. It’s okay. Even if he be doing her for intel, it is probably polite. Like the donut.”
Now the Russian brat didn’t even make sense, but she did seem to know exactly what buttons to push. She could maybe even handle being compared to an obviously skanky doll, but no one was calling what happened last night polite. “It was kinky as fuck. That man had his filthy mouth on every part of my body for hours.”
“Kenzie.” Now her father was outraged.
“I am not honey potting my sub,” Ben announced. “Why would you even think that?”
“Who is sub? Oh, is this sandwich thing?” Sosa seemed genuinely confused. “He makes meal of you. But he is probably doing this so he knows what your pickle knows.”
Now they were venturing into the ridiculous. She didn’t have a damn pickle.
He’d needed time to process the whole she-was-two-people thing.
But he’d called her his sub, and he knew what that meant to her. He certainly didn’t have to go so far as to learn an entire lifestyle. She would have been happy to have vanilla sex with him. At least in thebeginning.
“I am not trying to get information out of Kenzie. That’s what debriefs are for,” Ben explained.
“I mean, from what I can tell you did de her briefs,” Sosa insisted.
Her father got out of the car. “I can’t. I’m not going in today. I’ll head to Colorado with the boys. I might actually retire and never come home.”
She wasn’t sure she was his sub yet. Not technically. Right now they were just playing around, but she kind of liked how he said it, and it made her less fight clubby. Also, her father was not thinking. “Dad, get back in the car. Have you forgotten there’s a price on your head?”
It was precisely why she was here, and why her whole family was going to have to split up.
This was all part of Huisman’s plan.
Chaos. Huisman loved it. Which made her worry he was planning something big. He was definitely a “look here while I do something much worse somewhere else” kind of villain. And that particular kind was moving up on her list after all this mess.
Ben shot out of the car and before Kenzie could move, he tackled her dad, both of their big bodies hitting the thankfully recently mowed lawn.
Which was weird because while her dad hadn’t been particularly kind to him, it could have been so much worse. She’d kind of thought Ben was planning on winning her dad over. Honestly, sometimes the old guy did appreciate a good fight.
Then the reason was clear because a shot sounded out and Kenzie realized the chaos had found their home.
Chapter Eight
Ben saw the glint of metal coming from the trees a hundred feet away and shot out of the car. As much as Ian Taggart was a pain in his ass, he wasn’t about to allow Kenzie’s father to die on his ridiculously large front lawn.
Even as he tackled the mass of muscle, he admired the softness of the grass and how well kept that sucker was. He thanked the universe they weren’t doing this on concrete outside the office building because while the guy was in good shape, there was a reason people his age talked endlessly about their hips and sciatica.
He hadn’t expected Kenzie to come from wealth. He’d thought she would be one of those brilliant poor kids who had no family and a flexible moral character that all intelligence agencies preferred. But no, she had grown up on this beautiful compound with two loving parents and a family that rallied around her whenever she needed them.
Unlike his, who asked him not to contact them again. Who told him it was his fault they’d had to go into hiding.
