Wicked and Bound (Wicked Lovers: Soldiers For Hire #10)

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

T he following afternoon, Nash’s satellite phone with its encrypted signal buzzed as he watched Haisley stare out at the ocean, her arms wrapped around herself. The continued distance she put between them mirrored the emotional gulf that had only grown. He didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

“Jasper King here,” he answered quietly, knowing the Velvet Cove’s surveillance could hear his side of the conversation…but his caller could spill the world’s best kept secrets, and no one would be the wiser.

“Mission accomplished. Kaylee is home.” Relief tinged Ethan’s voice. “Her parents couldn’t stop crying. Or thanking me. The girl herself… Man, she broke down the moment we were off that island.”

“Not surprising. Hopefully, that’s all good now. Anything else?” Nash was intentionally vague. Ethan knew he had to maintain cover.

“She’s traumatized, but she’s got a good support system. She kept asking about the other girls still on the island. Wanted me to make sure we’re going to help them, too. I promised we would.”

“That’s the plan.” Nash glanced at Haisley’s rigid back. She was listening, but she wouldn’t look his way.

“You holding up? I know you can’t talk, but the other night—you and Haisley—that looked…rough.”

“Incredibly.”

“Not good, huh?”

“Nope.”

“You two have been through a lot. I know you love her. I think she loves you, too. She’ll remember that once she’s had a chance to clear her head.”

Nash sincerely hoped so, but he responded with a noncommittal sound. “Anything else?”

“Not now, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay frosty.”

“Back at you.”

Nash disconnected, his frustration building with each passing hour. The weight of their situation, of Haisley’s pain, pressed against his chest until he struggled to breathe.

Unable to take the silence anymore, he headed to the gym, punishing his body with a five-mile run and an hour of heavy weights. Each rep, each mile, felt like a futile attempt to outrun his rage and helplessness.

After a shower, he found Haisley still curled into the window seat, one finger absently tracing patterns on the glass. The afternoon light caught the copper highlights in her hair, reminding him of happier days when he could have simply pulled her into his arms.

His phone buzzed again. Trees this time.

He answered quickly, aware of Haisley’s attention shifting to him. “Hey.”

“Heads up. We’re making progress through these assholes’ encrypted files,” his brother said. “It’s slow going, and some of the images I’m getting are horrifying. Fucking stomach turning. I wish I was there to kill these bastards. But this footage…basically an engraved invitation to prison.”

“No shock there.”

“But what we’re finding… This operation is even bigger than we imagined.”

“How much bigger?”

“Massive. The bosses have been coordinating with their FBI contacts. This ring operates in at least eighteen cities across the US alone. International presence, too. Hunter contracted a female agent, Karliah Dane, to join us undercover as a hairdresser in the spa. She’ll make contact when she arrives.”

“Good. You know I never turn down a woman,” he quipped for the surveillance. “But will one be enough?”

Haisley sniffed and looked away again. Nash bit back a curse.

“To make a difference in this investigation?” Trees asked. “Can’t hurt. I’m telling you, this fucking operation is a disgusting ball of worms. This new operative is supposed to be damn good, so I figure getting her there as backup and listening in on any employee gossip can only be a bonus. Need anything else? Something I can pass onto the bosses? I know you can’t talk much.”

“You’re right about that.”

His older brother sighed. “I’m worried about you. And Haisley. Laila is pacing a lot.”

That brought a little smile to Nash’s face. “I can picture that now. Send my best.”

“She’s going to need it.” Trees paused. “She’s pregnant again.”

Nash’s chest tightened, the word pregnant hitting too close to home, given his standoff with Haisley. Still, he forced a laugh for his brother’s sake. Trees was deliriously happy. “You know, you need to figure out what’s causing that.”

“Oops,” Trees said with a smile in his voice.

“In other words, you’re not even trying not to stop it.”

“I love my wife, and I love my kids. Shoot me.”

“I won’t. She might. But congrats.”

“Thanks, bro.” Trees sobered again. “Stay safe.”

“Will do.”

Nash ended the call, then turned to study Haisley. She wouldn’t look at him, but the afternoon sun illuminated the tears she tried to hide.

Fuck, he hated that he couldn’t just hold her and make everything right. He hated the trust that had evaporated between them. Maybe he could help her escape this nightmare, if only for a while, and earn some goodwill.

“Come here,” he commanded in low tones, gentle but firm enough for their audience. When she hesitated, he raised a brow. “Now.”

She moved to him slowly, like a wary animal. He plopped onto the plush sofa and pulled her down beside him, arranging her against his side. She was stiff, but she didn’t pull away. Because she knew better with all the technical eyes watching their every move? Because she still liked being near him, despite everything? Or because she was afraid to cross him?

Nash hated wondering. “I’m in the mood to watch a movie.”

She wriggled to put space between them. “I’m not.”

He wasn’t having any of that. “You pick.”

He handed her the remote and dragged her flush against his body again.

“Fine,” she snapped.

But he caught a spark of interest in her eyes.

She scrolled through the available selections until she found a comedy they’d watched together years ago. He remembered that night perfectly: Haisley curled against him on his couch, both of them laughing until they cried, her face glowing with happiness. Back when things between them had been simpler. Back when she’d trusted him.

As the opening credits rolled, he stroked her hair and swept his fingertips over her shoulder. Her familiar scent teased his nose and made him hard. Somehow, she managed to hold herself carefully apart, even while he pressed her against his side.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, some of the tension left her. Twenty minutes into the film, he felt her lips twitch against his chest. Not quite a smile, but close.

It wasn’t much. They still had a mountain of issues to work through—his deception about Jasper, her secret pregnancy, the trauma of their current situation. But the fact that she wasn’t pulling away, that she was letting him offer this small comfort…

It was the first bit of progress they’d made since this shit began.

Unfortunately, the nightmare was casting a long shadow. Nash knew he was taking a risk by treating Haisley more like a girlfriend than a sex slave. Cameras were always watching. But she needed a little more time. He couldn’t give her long without arousing too much suspicion. Hunter would probably have his ass for putting her feelings first. But he couldn’t toss her on the bed and demand she put out because it fit their narrative. It would destroy her last shred of trust in him.

For now, he pressed a kiss to her temple, allowing himself to hope that maybe, if he gave her a little more time, they would find their way back to each other. If they survived this hell, he’d spend the rest of his life making sure she never had reason to doubt him again.

For now, though, he’d take this moment. This tiny victory. This glimpse of his Haisley underneath all the fear and pain. Then he’d try to repair their connection into something truly unbreakable and lasting.

Because losing her forever would destroy him.

The next morning, Nash woke to pale sunlight and the warmth of Haisley’s body against his. Her delicious vanilla-musky scent filled his nose. He glanced down and drank in her fiery hair spilling across his chest. Somewhere in the night, she’d tangled herself around him—leg hooked over his thigh, head tucked under his chin, fingers curled around his ribs. The feel of her splayed against him made him hard as fuck, even as it stirred his heart.

He’d give anything to lose himself in the moment and forget they were living this nightmare. To roll her to her back, kiss her awake, and heap pleasure on her. To worship her body and show her with every touch how much she meant to him until she screamed in ecstasy.

Not happening.

At least she’d sought him in her sleep. After the movie they’d shared last night, it felt like a step in the right direction. But there was no telling what her mood would be when she opened her eyes.

He shoved that worry aside and tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her crown. His body ached to explore her soft curves. She wasn’t ready yet, but he couldn’t give her much longer. Gray and his minions would get suspicious if he didn’t avail himself of his “prize” soon.

Nash would rather not touch her again until she came to him willingly…but he might not get that choice.

Sighing, he eased from her embrace and dressed. She made a small sound of protest, but he had work to do. Kane was waiting for him.

They had plans to make.

As he stepped out of the building, the humid Caribbean breeze blew in with the morning air. Kane was already waiting on the beach, his morning run providing the cover. Nash fell into step beside him, matching his pace.

“Tell me you have something,” Nash said under his breath.

“I think so. East side of the island. Supply dock in a shallow bay. Boats come and go at all hours, usually under cover of darkness. Security is lighter there. They’re more focused on the main dock where guests arrive.”

“Sounds promising. Timeline?”

“Give me a day or two to scout it properly.” Kane’s voice dropped further as a guard patrolled the area on his rounds. “By the way, you’ve got an appointment at the spa at nine. New hairdresser. Hunter’s contact.”

The bosses worked fast. “Got any other information? Background?”

“Karliah Dane is one of the best. Former CIA field operative, specialized in deep cover work. Did three years undercover breaking up trafficking rings in Eastern Europe. Two years with Interpol’s organized crime unit. She’s young, but her record is impressive.”

“Sounds solid. Let me know later how it went.”

Nash nodded. “You got it. Any other developments?”

“Nothing concrete. I’ve made, um…contact with Mr. Gray’s secretary, Lia.”

Despite the grim situation, Nash smiled. “Translation: you’re seducing information from her?”

Kane winced. “I’m trying to coax her in other ways.”

“You’ve never been shy. Is she a grandma? A lesbian? A troll?”

“No. Normally, I’d be…all in, if you get my drift. But Gracelyn…”

Nash nodded in understanding. “You caught feelings?”

“It started out as a fun fling. But it’s turned into…more. Since it’s still early days, I don’t know what exactly yet, but…yeah. I’m into her. She’s not just hot, but she’s sweet. Kind. And I love me some dimples.”

Stoic lone-wolf Kane Preston shot by Cupid’s arrow? “I get it, man. Sometimes, you just fall when you least expect it.”

His fellow operative glanced out at the water like he was a million miles in the past. “It’s been a long time, but yeah.”

“All you can do is your best. But you can’t compromise the mission.”

Kane’s long sigh said he’d already come to that conclusion. “Same goes for you. I’ll reach out if I learn anything useful.”

With that, Kane was gone.

Nash returned to the suite, ordered coffee and breakfast, then showered. Haisley was still sleeping when he stepped out for his spa appointment. Time to meet their inside help. He hoped Karliah had new intel because this mission wasn’t proceeding fast enough for his peace of mind.

When he strolled in, the spa gleamed with marble and chrome, all luxury masking its darker side.

A stunning blonde approached, her smile professional but her green eyes sharp. “Mr. King?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Karliah. It will be my pleasure to take care of you today.” Her voice carried a hint of flirtation.

Nash played his part, raking his stare down her figure. “Lucky me. How long have you worked here?”

“I’ve been doing hair for years, but I just got to the island yesterday.” As she led him to the shampoo bowl, she chatted as if innocuously passing the time. “I’ve already met a lot of interesting people! Everyone has such exciting stories.” Her fingers worked his scalp, and it was clear that, even if she was an operative, she’d had decent training with hair. “I’ve already heard whispers about a special visitor in the next week or two. I can’t wait to find out more.”

Nash caught her meaning. Someone important was coming—someone who had the staff nervous.

“Hmm. Maybe you’d like to tell me more this evening?” he asked smoothly.

“I’d be thrilled.” She settled him into the chair and lowered it to compensate for his height before she reached for a comb.

Nash smothered a smile when she had to stand on her tiptoes. “What time does your shift end, sweetheart?”

“Six. I had no idea a big, strong man like you would be interested in beauty shop gossip,” she cooed.

“I’m not. But I’m always interested in a beautiful woman.”

She actually managed a blush as she snipped away at his hair.

The conversation lapsed, and he continued to watch her confident clips. She finished off his trim with a little hair paste, wielded the blow dryer to sweep the excess hair from his shoulders, then slipped something into his pocket as she removed the cape. “All done. I’m looking forward to seeing you this evening.”

With a salute, he left the spa and hustled into the bathroom adjacent to the gym. In the privacy of a stall, Nash unfolded the note, careful to ensure his head blocked any overhead cameras. The boss—whom everyone had dubbed Black Velvet—was coming. Karliah was trying to get more details.

Good. If the head of this warped operation was coming, maybe they could blow this investigation wide open.

He couldn’t wait to hear what else Karliah knew.

For now, he shredded the note and flushed it. Then returned to the suite to find Haisley at the makeshift breakfast table.

“You’re up.” He kept his voice carefully neutral. “Sleep good?”

“Well enough.” Haisley pushed eggs around her plate. “New haircut?”

He nodded. “New stylist.”

“Good for you.”

Yep, she was still pissed.

The silence stretched between them, loaded with things they couldn’t say. He ached to know precisely what she was thinking, to get her alone for ten minutes so he could explain. He could drag her to the beach for a private chat, but he knew Haisley. Until she was ready to cool down, his attempt to work things out would go nowhere. So he poured coffee and pretended normalcy instead.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in strained silence. Nash feigned an emergency in his textile business, typing pointlessly on his laptop while Haisley crashed on the sofa and zoned out with the TV. Every nerve in his body was aware of her every move and breath.

The weight of their forced performance pressed against him. If he didn’t take her to bed soon and start treating her like his “breeder,” this undercover operation could blow up in their faces.

Christ, he had to find the right way out—for Haisley, for the other victims, for everyone trapped in this hell.

Just before six, Nash snapped his laptop closed.

“Where are you going?” Haisley’s voice held a wary edge.

A man who’d purchased a woman would never answer to her, so he raised a brow. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

Then he slammed out the door, hating when he saw her flinch.

Goddamn it, something had to give.

Her aloofness worried Nash all the way to the spa, where he found Karliah waiting in the cool evening air just outside with a sunny smile.

He played his part, wrapping his arm around her and nuzzling her neck. “Know somewhere private we can…talk?”

She giggled, batting her lashes over big green eyes. “You tell me.”

In other words, no. “Walk on the beach? The waves are beautiful tonight.”

“I’d love that.”

They strolled arm in arm until they reached the shore. Their body language looked flirty for the cameras, but once the waves crashed over their conversation, it turned serious.

“Tell me what you’ve got.”

“You saw my note?” When he nodded, she went on. “Black Velvet is coming to address a recent security breach. Apparently, a woman escaped the island a few weeks back.”

His pulse leapt. “How?”

“I didn’t get details, but she managed to commandeer a boat and almost made it away from the island. Security hunted her down.”

“Where is she now?” He’d love to question her.

“Dead. Rumor has it, Black Velvet was furious about the lost merchandise and isn’t happy with Gray.”

Fuck. But that proved escape was possible. It would simply have to be planned with precision. That woman’s escape route would be sealed off now, but the fortress had weaknesses. He, Kane, and Karliah just had to find and exploit them.

“Anything else?”

“Everyone is terrified of Gray. In Black Velvet’s absence, he has carte blanche, and he’s absolutely ruthless. I’m doing my best to play the dumb blonde. But I’m super shy”—she rolled her eyes—“so I listen more than I talk.”

“Good. Any talkers? Allies?”

She bit her lip and glanced up at him with a coy smile. “Not really. Too early to tell.”

He caressed her face for show. “You’ve met the other operative on the island.”

“Kane? Yeah.”

“Good. He should be your primary contact going forward. Probably best if I keep my distance unless necessary.”

“Agreed. But if something big goes down, we’ll need to compare notes.”

She was right, and he hated that pretending to romance Karliah was probably the only way. “If I make an appointment to have my beard trimmed, you’ll know something is up. If you come across credible intel you can’t pass through Kane, just send me an appointment reminder.”

“Perfect.” She pretended to rub his arm like she was impressed with his biceps, but the shrewd look in her eyes wasn’t remotely flirty.

He pressed his face into her neck and whispered, “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Yeah. Every hour that passed ratcheted up the pressure. He could almost feel these bastards breathing down his neck.

Karliah blew him a kiss and playfully pushed him away before running down the beach with a final giggle.

Nash turned to head back to the suite. He stopped when he heard footsteps approaching on the sand. Mr. Gray—a shark in human form—appeared, looking immaculate in white linen.

His smile didn’t reach his icy eyes. “Mr. King, might I have a word?”

The smarmy bastard had come alone, so he probably didn’t have violence in mind. If he got aggressive, Nash could overtake him, no sweat. But it would blow up the whole operation. So he waited as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Sure. Beautiful evening,” Nash said casually.

“Indeed. I must admit to some…concerns.” Gray clasped his hands behind his back, circling Nash. “You paid quite handsomely for your breeder, yet our monitoring suggests you haven’t utilized her at all since your claiming.”

He’d known these freaks were keeping tabs, but damn. “Are you questioning my methods for dealing with my property?”

“Merely making certain you understand that she’s yours to use at your whim, however you like. Whenever you’d like. The goal is, after all, to impregnate her.”

Nash’s stomach turned, but he kept his voice steady. “I prefer to break a woman slowly. The longer they resist, the sweeter the eventual surrender.”

“An admirable technique, but given her…spirit, some might wonder if you’re being too gentle. Almost…protective.” Gray’s smile didn’t hide the veiled threat in his voice.

“I know what I’m doing, and I don’t need you or anyone else interfering. As you pointed out, I paid handsomely for her.”

“Of course.” Gray studied him. “Still, we do have certain expectations. It would be…unfortunate if your purchase required additional motivation from our staff.”

Images of what that might entail burned across Nash’s brain—the equipment he’d glimpsed in their dungeons, the screams he sometimes heard at night. Letting these monsters “motivate” her was unthinkable.

“That won’t be necessary. In fact, I’ve been planning something special for tonight. Something that should diffuse her attitude and make her putty in my hands.”

Gray’s wide smile said that idea excited him. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you taking the…situation in hand.”

As the asshole walked away, Nash breathed through his anger. But he had to take at least part of the blame. Last night’s cuddle on the couch with a movie had been unwise. He’d known it was a risk. Push had now come to shove, and he had to convince Haisley to play along tonight. Worse, he couldn’t even explain himself. She was going to have to trust him.

Which she seemingly didn’t.

His chest tightened as he headed back to their suite.

If he wasn’t careful, tonight might destroy everything between them. Even if they survived this hell and tore down this predatory operation, what he had to do to sell his cover might destroy any chance of winning Haisley back. But if he had to choose between breaking her trust or watching her die, he’d sacrifice her trust every time. Even if it meant losing her forever.

The weight of that choice pressed against his chest like a physical thing. Protector. Perpetrator. Lover. Enemy. The lines were blurring, and he was terrified of what that meant for them both.