Rogue (Gladiator Series #2) Page 7

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “I’d be really impressed if you said yes. We’ll go over it again later.”

  “So, what do you do on long plane rides like this?” It’s not like he could sleep like he was a passenger on a major jetliner.

  “Stare out at the sky.” His eyes were directed out the two large windows at the front of the plane. “And do some thinking.”

  “What kind of thinking do you do?”

  “I think about my properties and if I need to do anything to maintain them. I think about my mom and my sister. I think about you.” His hands were in his lap, and the steering wheel remained stationary. Despite the intimate words he just said, he continued to stare straight ahead. “I think about lots of things.”

  I watched him for a few more minutes before I looked out the window. “How do you feel about this mission?”

  He took a long time to respond. “The same as I do for all other missions.”

  “Meaning?”

  “It’ll probably go well. Everything will probably work out okay. But I never really know.”

  “Have you ever had an unsuccessful mission?”

  “Many times,” he said. “They had nothing to do with my incompetence. Sometimes things just don’t work out. Sometimes people die…just how it goes.”

  He said it so plainly when I knew he didn’t feel that way. Every loss was personal to him. He was motivated by righteousness more than revenge.

  “But I’ll make sure you’re okay,” Wilder said. “So don’t worry about that.”

  “I’m not worried about it.” I was more concerned with coming face to face with my father. What would I do if he tried to kill me? Would I have the strength to pull the trigger first? “I’m more concerned about seeing my father.”

  “I’m not gonna lie. That’s gonna be difficult.”

  “Yeah…”

  “I suspect your presence will do nothing to make him sympathetic. But I sincerely hope I’m wrong.”

  I would always have a hard time believing my father would hurt me. But if he’d committed hundreds of crimes, would I really be any different to him? I was just another victim to add to his collection. “I don’t think I can kill him, Wilder…”

  “I know, sweetheart.” He spoke gently through the speaker. “You won’t have to.”

  I turned my gaze out the window and watched the clouds move by in the sky. They were puffy and white, looking like pillows I could sleep on. My father was no longer the man I knew, the man who raised me. And I couldn’t be with the man I’d fallen for, the one right beside me. Life didn’t always work out that way, and I had to accept that ugly truth.

  ***

  After we landed on the small trip, we got into the car waiting for us and drove into Serbia. It was cold despite the summer season, and I was grateful I brought a thick jacket. It was nighttime, and the lights from the city were just as bright as the stars in the sky.

  Wilder pulled off onto the street in front of a three-story building that looked like an apartment complex. The cars along the street were small and compact just like ours. Very few pedestrians were on the sidewalks, covered in their thick jackets, most of them made out of fur.

  Wilder and I entered the building and took the stairway to the top floor. There wasn’t an elevator, something that would be inside every complex back at home. The hallway was ordinary with a wooden banister along the wall and bright lights along the ceiling. It was quiet, the other tenants probably dead asleep.

  He got the door open and revealed an ordinary room. It was cramped and small, a studio apartment a student at university would rent. He tossed his bag on the couch and pulled out his laptop immediately. He sat down and opened his server then quickly typed.

  I took a look around, seeing the small bathroom and the single bed. It was a queen size so it could fit two people, but I doubted that’s what Wilder had in mind. The couch was small, but either one of us could fit on it.

  I set my bags down then looked out the window. The rounded roofs of the churches and the dim streetlamps made me feel a world away. After meeting Wilder, I had the opportunity to travel to so many gorgeous places, and it never would have happened without him.

  Wilder finished his work then shut the laptop. “Everyone is in the clear.”

  I turned around, my arms across my chest. “Everyone is safe?”

  “Yeah. We all arrived exactly when we should. We’ll intercept your father tomorrow. My sources say he’s staying at the same place. We’ll intervene when he least expects it.”

  “Great.” The sooner this was done, the sooner I could move on. I eyed the bed and turned back to him. “So, what are the sleeping arrangements?”

  He leaned back into the cushions and glanced at the bed. “We sleep in the bed. That’s what it’s for.”

  “Together?” I asked incredulously.

  “I’m not sleeping on this hard-ass couch.” He stood up and kicked off his shoes. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”

  “Well, I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly chiseled body. Both he and Ben had the full package. Either one of them could be on the spread of a calendar. “Then it looks like we’re sleeping together.”

  “That’s not appropriate.”

  “Why?” He moved for his jeans next and stripped down to his boxers. “We’ve done it before.”

  “Things are different.”

  “Ben isn’t your boyfriend, right?”

  My eyes narrowed. “No, but that’s irrelevant. It’s not very professional.”

  “Well, I’ve never been very professional.” He set his phone on the nightstand then got into bed. The sheets reached his waist, and he rested his hand under his head. He closed his eyes even though the lights were still on.

  We had a long day coming, and I didn’t want to be uncomfortable all night. A good night of sleep made all the difference in the world. I grabbed my clothes and changed in the bathroom before I lay beside him in bed. The second I was beside him, his smell washed over and reminded me of our tenure in Switzerland.

  He didn’t touch me, but the bed was too small for his large size. Throughout the night, we were bound to bump into one another. His searing skin would heat the sheets, enveloping me in his warmth. I missed those nights when we would cuddle together. Nothing made me feel more at home. Ben was a great guy, the perfect man, but it was never the same with him as it was with Wilder. He wasn’t even spooning me, and I felt the same electricity that I always did.

  I turned over on my side and faced the other way so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at him. I wouldn’t be tempted to touch him or do something else stupid. I stared at the wall for a few minutes before my eyes closed. After the long flight and the constant hum of the engine in my ears, I was tired. We were in a new country, but I didn’t have any desire to explore it. I just wanted to sleep.

  Wilder turned over and his large arm wrapped around my waist. He pressed his face into the back of my neck and his hard-on against my ass. His gentle breaths fell on my skin because he was so close to me.

  I should push him off because this was inappropriate, but it felt too good. Too incredible. My arms moved over his, and I concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest. It pressed against me every time he took a breath, solid and warm. The definition of his cock was pressed against me, and I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth and everywhere else.

  Instead of pushing off and telling him to stick to his side, I let the embrace continue. My life could end tomorrow, and I didn’t want to waste my last night on earth pushing him away. He knew how I felt about him, and I knew exactly how he felt about me.

  So I didn’t bother hiding it.

  ***

  We woke up the following morning, had breakfast, and then got ready for the day. My phone rang just a few minutes before lunch.

  “Hey,” Ben said into the phone. “How’s your first mi
ssion going?”

  I thought of the way Wilder and I slept together through the night. When I woke up the next morning, our bodies were intertwined even more. I hadn’t slept that well in so long I couldn’t remember the last time it happened. It reminded me of warm nights in front of the fireplace in Switzerland, when we were getting to know each other. I wished we could do that every night. “It’s okay. But then again, nothing interesting has happened yet.”

  “Give it time.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Moscow. We’re gonna be moving in shortly. The target is right on course for interception.”

  I got chills thinking about it, knowing this was it. We were pulling off a multi-faceted plan. We all had to do our jobs in order to be successful. “This is really happening…”

  “Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ve got this.”

  I hoped I had the same confidence when I came face to face with my father. “I hope so.”

  “You got it in the bag. Don’t doubt yourself. You’re one tough chick.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I guess I’ll talk to you when this is all over.”

  “Alright.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” I knew I needed all I could get. I hung up then stuffed my phone into my pocket. My gun was in my holster, and my Glock was stuffed into the pocket of my jacket. I had a knife in my boot, some rope hidden in my jeans, and at thick metal ring that would cause some serious damage once I punched someone.

  Wilder returned to the room, looking exactly like a secret agent with his black attire and black jacket. “He’s going to be on the move in fifteen minutes. Are you ready?”

  Was it okay to say no? “Yes.”

  “Need anything before we leave?” His gun was hidden by his jacket, along with all the other deadly stuff he possessed.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Alright. Let’s get this asshole.”

  We left the apartment and got into the car Wilder left on the street corner. It was unremarkable, black and run down. He probably didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves with something fancy like the cars in the garage at the estate. We headed down the road, and I watched the pedestrians pile into the street. Steam rose from the vents in the road, and people wore gloves over their hands to fight the cold. Almost everyone had a cup of coffee in hand, both to wake them up and keep them warm.

  Wilder was focused with laser point accuracy. The radio was off, and he swept the streets with his eyes, constantly searching for unsuspecting obstacles and suspicious men.

  I kept my eyes in front of me, using the skills Wilder had taught me himself. It was impossible to take in every detail of an image, but if I took in everything calmly, I could catch things that stood out as abnormal.

  Wilder drove fifteen minutes before he pulled into a spot that a car had suddenly vacated off the side of the road. “Thanks, Cameron,” he said into his earpiece. He slid into the spot and put the car in park.

  Now the nerves were getting to me. I knew my father was inside that hotel, having no idea we were about to snatch him or fully aware of what was about to happen. Agents had a talented way of knowing when trouble was about to strike.

  I already knew the plan, so Wilder and I didn’t need to discuss it.

  We left the car behind and entered the lobby of the hotel. It was quiet since no one was up yet. The two receptionists stood at the counter but didn’t address us since we were too far away. Wilder headed for the stairs, and I followed.

  We walked to the fifth floor and down the carpeted hallway. Wilder eyed the numbers on the wall until he located the exact room. My father was inside, aware or unaware of what was about to happen.

  Wilder turned to me and asked a silent question.

  I nodded in return.

  Wilder tapped his knuckles against the door and bowed his head, making his face impossible to see through the peephole. He spoke in Russian, announcing that he was part of housekeeping.

  There were footsteps behind the door then my father announced he didn’t need any services.

  That’s when Wilder kicked the door open with unrelenting force. The door broke off the hinges and crashed down, hitting my father on the other side. Wilder’s gun was drawn quicker than I could see and pointed right at my father.

  Despite my father’s age, he was fast. He twisted the door and forced Wilder against the wall.

  Now that I could see my father, recognize his bearded face, tan skin, and the same brown leather jacket he wore around the house all the time, I froze. This was really happening. My father was really an agent, and he would kill Wilder if he had the chance.

  Wilder punched him with the butt of his gun then kicked him in the gut.

  My father flew with the hit then drew his own weapon, aiming it right at Wilder.

  That’s when Wilder snatched me by the neck and pointed the gun right at my head. He cocked the gun, telling me it was fully loaded and capable of blowing my brains out. This must be the plan he was talking about. Now that the barrel was pressed to the back of my skull, the threat was real. With one slip of his finger, Wilder could kill me. “Hand yourself over, and she lives.”

  I tried to keep my breathing under control but I couldn’t. My hand was pressed to the carpet, and I could feel the rough texture under my fingertips. I tried to concentrate on the feeling rather than the fact a loaded gun was pressed to the back of my head.

  “You think I’m gonna fall for that?” he asked coldly. “I know what you’re doing, Wilder. I have to say, I’m not impressed.”

  “You don’t think I’ll shoot her?” Wilder asked coldly. “Her life doesn’t matter. My life doesn’t matter. I don’t have a single agent at RB12 who’s life means a damn thing. The only life that does matter in this room is yours.” He pressed the gun further into my head. “Yes, I’ll kill her, Matthew. I’ll kill your daughter unless you toss your gun on the bed and surrender.”

  My father lowered his gun, but he wore a smile on his face. “If you think I’m gonna—”

  Wilder pointed the gun at my arm and shot me.

  “Ahh!” I collapsed to the floor and felt the blood ooze out everywhere. The pain wasn’t as blinding as I expected it to be, but the shock was overwhelming. I shook as I lay on the floor, holding back the screams as my vision became blurred.

  I couldn’t believe he shot me.

  “Jesus Christ,” my father yelled. “Are you crazy?”

  Wilder moved the gun to my other arm, the only working one that I had. “You tell me. Is she gonna lose this one too?”

  This was the moment of truth. Would my father allow this to happen to me, for me to be in agony when I didn’t deserve it?

  “This woman traded her life for yours,” Wilder said coldly. “And yet, you hesitate. I’m glad Gray will get to see this before she dies. Now she knows I wasn’t lying when I said you were scum.” He pressed the barrel into my arm and squeezed the trigger.

  “Stop.” The arrogance my father used to possess disappeared. “I’m listening, alright?”

  Wilder kept the gun pressed to my arm as I choked back the hot tears behind my eyes.

  “Just put the gun down,” my father ordered.

  “No.” Wilder stepped on my injured arm, making me cry out in pain. “Put the gun on the bed and get on your knees.”

  My father stared at me, his gaze unreadable.

  Wilder stepped on me again, forcing more blood to ooze out of my arm.

  “Ahh!” I tried to stay strong, but I couldn’t. This was the most agony I’d ever experienced. Wilder didn’t flinch as he hurt me, forcing me to writhe in agony underneath him. He warned me that he would hurt me, but I hadn’t been expecting such brutal force.

  The fact my father still hesitated was insulting. I’d known him my entire life. He held me in the hospital the day I was born. We cooked dinner together and watched our favorite basketball team on the couch. Even if he was an agent who made a business being crimin
al, he couldn’t be immune to those memories.

  But maybe I was wrong.

  Wilder shifted the gun back to my skull.

  “She’s innocent,” my father said.

  “She’s a sacrifice for the greater good,” Wilder said as his finger hovered over the trigger. “And anything related to you can’t be that innocent. Any final words for your daughter?”

  My father stood tall and proud with his gun by his side. He wouldn’t give himself up to save my life.

  That stung—bad.

  “So be it.” Wilder pushed the barrel further into my skull until my head was on the ground.

  Finally, my father caved. “Okay, okay.” He lowered himself to his knees and slid the gun across the hardwood floor where he couldn’t reach it. “Let her go.”

  Wilder returned the gun to his holster and left me on the floor. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and hooked them over my father’s wrist, securing him so he couldn’t try anything else. The relief of not being shot overcame my body, but it couldn’t counteract the pain shooting up and down my arm. I already felt myself grow weak with the loss of blood. We’d succeeded in our mission to capture my father, but I didn’t feel any victory.

  Wilder spoke to his team through his speaker. “I need a medic on the fifty floor. Now.”

  I tried to get up but slipped in a pool of my own blood.

  “Gray, you’re going to be alright,” my father said. “Just stay calm. Keep your heart rate down.”

  “Okay…”

  A team came in a moment later, and a man I recognized from the base attended to me. He checked my breathing and my pulse before he got to work on my arm. Wilder took my father away, leading him by the arm out of the building.

  “No damage to the artery or the bone,” the medic said. “I’m just gonna stitch this up and give you some pain killers.”

  “Okay.”

  He worked quickly, putting me back together in record time. A few guys cleaned up the mess I’d made and returned it to as good as new. They snatched my father’s suitcases and left. The medic helped me to my feet and escorted me out of the building, supporting most of my weight with his since I felt a little dizzy.

  “Now what?” I asked.