My stomach sinks. “Oh no.”
“What?” he asks.
“This is another helicopter situation, isn’t it?”
His head turns slowly. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Last time you pulled this mysterious ‘you’ll see’ bullshit, you unveiled the world’s tiniest helicopter.”
He has the audacity to look at me as though I’m making the whole thing up, but I have the back cramps to prove it. That thing was not meant for three people, yet somehow we made it back in one piece. “Itwas not tiny.”
“It looked like a child’s toy.”
“It was tactical.”
“My morgue freezer is bigger than your helicopter.”
He rolls his eyes and produces a stack of keys, finding the right one, sliding it into the lock, and pushing the roller door up. This is the real world of the Iron Viper, and he’s inviting me in as if we were walking into his home after a first date.
My brows immediately rise. It’s like getting the golden ticket for Willy Wonka’s Factory, only instead of chocolate, it’s every kind of weapon someone could want. But again, my collection is bigger.
“Wow,” I say, slowly making my way around as Raiden grabs a duffel bag and starts filling it up. Holsters, knives, you know, the usual tools of the trade.
It looks like a private armory in here—asmallprivate armory.
Weapon racks. Gear cases. Surveillance equipment. Training mats rolled against the wall. Two lockers full of ammunition. But there is one thing missing. “Where’s your training studio?”
“Huh?”
“Your training studio,” I say again, pausing to look back at him. “You know, where you can keep up on your skills. I have a yoga-Pilates section, a gym floor, and then a shock-absorbent floor for MMA and Jiu-Jitsu. Oh, and, of course, a first aid office for those times of need.”
He just stares at me. “You have all of that?”
“You don’t?”
He lets out a huff and gets back to doing what he’s doing as I continue making my way around the small unit, already making my plan for when I get to show him mine, knowing I’ll enjoy it immensely.
“Alright, here’s the plan,” Raiden says, grabbing the go-bag and walking it back out to the car before going back for more. “Your agency would know by now that the mission was a failure, and they’ll be scrambling for a new plan before you get the chance to disappear.”
I nod, already having worked that out.
“We’re going to make you bait. Lure them out and take them down.”
Bait? Sounds like my kind of plan. Chaos is written all over it.
“Fun.”
“Stay close to me. Do exactly what I say.”
I arch a brow. That isn’t exactly going to be the easiest task to accomplish, but there’s a hint in his tone that suggests I better not argue on this, and I realize that I’m not dealing withmyRaiden anymore. This is the Iron Viper, the most lethal man on the planet. So, I do what any other normal human being would do and offer him the double thumbs up. “Love that for me.”
Raiden huffs, sensing the sarcasm, but because I didn’t argue, he lets it go and delivers another bag to the back of his car. When he tosses me a black jacket, I catch it but look puzzled. I don’t know what good the jacket will do when I still haven’t got any underwear, pants, or shoes.
“Right. Let’s go,” he says, reaching for the roller door to close itup. “We get it done, and then we’re out of here. We’ll start a new life wherever the fuck you want. Lie low for a while. But you might have to chill on that travel blog. Doesn’t exactly help keep us covered.”
I nod as I walk out of the storage unit, having to duck my head as the roller door starts falling down. But then I stop. Job, then scram? But what about my home? What about . . . “Oh, hell no,” I say, stopping between the unit and his car. “I’m not going anywhere without Spikezilla and Needles. Are you out of your goddamn mind? We have to go home to get them.”
Uneasiness cuts through his stare, ready to fight me on this, but I shake my head. “There’s no me if there’s no Spikezilla and Needles. I know it sounds trivial, but they’re part of who I am. And it wouldn’t hurt to have just a quick shower and find a pair of pants and shoes. I know watching me get all hot and sweaty during a fight is what gets you hard, but doing it without underwear just doesn’t feel right. What if I got a knife right to the pussy and they cut my whole clit off? Likepoof, gone, just like that.”
