Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
A ugust needed to be alone with Gigi more than he needed his next breath. Circling his fingers around her wrist, he led her to the bedroom.
They were getting somewhere. The memory Gigi uncovered could end this whole thing quickly. So, as much as it annoyed him that four other men were crowded in what he’d come to think of as Gigi’s and his oasis, he’d deal.
Because the faster this shit came to a close, the faster he could figure out where things were going with Gigi and him—either right down the tubes or down a path they never should’ve strayed from two years go.
“What’s going on?” Her eyes were watchful as she surveyed his face.
He closed the bedroom door and turned to face her, cupping the delicate slope of her jaw in his palm. “Nothing. Just wanted to get you alone for a minute.”
That familiar pretty pink blush colored her cheeks. “Well... that’s nice and all but there’s a room full of your friends out there.”
He lifted a shoulder. “They’re not all my friends. Toth and Rami, sure. Taschen I tolerate,” he added, with a note of amusement. Taschen was annoying as hell sometimes. “And Ghost, I just met him so he doesn’t count.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “Well, you might not have a problem with them hearing a quickie, but I sure do.”
He studied her mouth, the way her lips parted to reveal her even, white front teeth. She drew in a breath of air as if inhaling his scent and, goddamn, it fucked with his head. She fucked with his head. In the best way. “No show,” he drawled out the syllables like an artist with a paint brush. “I want you uninhibited—and I don’t do quickies.”
She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, taunting him to take it between his teeth. “Good to know.”
Her matter-of-fact answer made him grin. Smoothing the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone, he fought the urge to kiss her. If he gave in to temptation, there’d definitely be something for his friends to hear, and there sure as hell wouldn’t be anything quick about it. “I think you gave us some helpful information.”
She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, making her long, luscious locks curl all the way down to her elbow. “I hope so. I’m not sure how I feel about all this.”
“Don’t feel. Just do.” Christ, was he even talking about the same thing she was?
Just keep moving forward with her. Don’t stop to think about the bolt of lightning in your chest every time she looks at you. Don’t acknowledge the blinding desire that consumes you when you kiss her. Don’t focus on the fact that you couldn’t survive her walking out again...
“That’s good advice. I think.” She placed her palm on his sternum, her hand small and feather-like. “It’s possible we won’t find him. You know that, right?”
August fought the anger that sparked in his veins. All it took was her mentioning the asshole and part of him wanted to go apeshit and break stuff. If he had his way, he’d start with Todd’s legs. Femur probably.
Dragging his gaze to his computer, which sat on the desk near the window, he snagged her wrist and towed her in that direction. Pulling out the chair, he sat then tugged her onto his lap. He could’ve just been a gentleman and let her sit, but no. Selfishly, he wanted her sweet little body as close to his as possible. On him.
Her ass settled on his upper thigh and his cock shot to attention. Wrapping his left arm around her hips, he held her in place and brought the screen to life.
Todd’s stupid face was exactly where August had left it. Gigi stiffened. “What’s this?”
“This is how we’re going to find him.” Reaching around her, August typed Washington . Best place to start was right at home. The program would bring up anyone who matched Todd’s facial analysis based on the match percentage August had inputted.
After plugging in 70 percent, he waited. Random images of men blipped across the screen right next to Todd’s photo, reminding him of a slot machine.
“Whoa,” Gigi wheezed.
“No doubt.” The program was impressive. Government level. If they didn’t find Todd after this, maybe Gigi was right and they wouldn’t.
A few minutes passed. August’s eyes stayed glued to the computer as he watched the number grow on the right side of the screen. Lots of possible contenders. Finally, the glitchy images stopped and the results were displayed.
202 matches
Gigi groaned. “This might take a while.”
“Yup. Let’s get started.” He clicked on the first image. Gigi studied a photo of a man taken from a street camera.
“Nope.”
“You sure? Try to look closely because—”
“It’s not him.”
“’Kay.” He flicked through the next and the next and the next. Occasionally Gigi would have him stop for a beat so she could examine the photo. Just over an hour later they had fifteen possibilities.
None were a 100 percent match.
“My eyes hurt.”
August had long ago given Gigi the desk chair and dragged one from the kitchen for himself. “We can take a break. See what the others came across.”
Gigi yawned and pressed her fingers to her lips. “Good idea. Hopefully they’ve got more intel than we do.”
August led the way back to the living room. “How’s it going?”
“Found the Radcliffe home. Well, one of ’em.” Taschen’s wry answer drew August to the kitchen island.
He stared at the images of a beautiful waterfront home that looked more like a mansion than any kind of lake house.
“Looks like they bought it five years ago. I found the original listing and specs. Satellite images taken in the last year show they have a speedboat and a plane that lands at their dock. It’s very possible they’ve hidden Todd here.”
Gigi went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Instinct told August that preparing food was her way of settling her unrest. Sure enough, she pulled out sandwich fixings and items for a charcuterie board.
Once again, he thanked himself for stocking the cupboards. He’d buy anything if it kept her content.
“You should see their personal residence,” Taschen said, disdain clinging to his words. “It’s pretty impressive as well.”
Turning his attention back to Taschen’s findings, August tilted the screen for a better angle. He didn’t even want to know what the Radcliffes had purchased the San Juan Island property for. There was no way that kind of money was clean.
“We need to get the Radcliffes to hand him over,” August mused.
Rami came up behind him and bumped his shoulder as he took the chair next to Taschen. “How do you suppose we do that?” he said with a snort. “Call ’em up and ask?”
“It’s a start,” August said. “Finding some dirt would be best.”
Taschen smirked, crinkling the scar at the side of his face. “I’m sure I can find something.” He stood and stretched. “But I need to stop by the office. I might need Dana’s help with something.”
“Why don’t you eat first?” Gigi stacked another sandwich on a pile of them and nudged a board filled with cured meats, cheeses, pickles, beets, olives, and crackers in his direction.
“Looks awesome.” Taschen scooped up a chicken salad sandwich and bit into it. “Damn, that’s good.”
Gigi grinned and handed August a plate. He accepted and began filling it while Rami stretched across the counter and made his own. Toth and Ghost came over for food, too, and minutes later they were all scarfing down Gigi’s snacks. August wanted to roll his eyes at the idiots moaning over their mouthfuls.
Fifteen minutes later Toth, Rami, and Taschen left, promising to get dirt on the Radcliffes and to see if they could find any surveillance footage of Todd coming and going from the island. Ghost stayed behind, quiet and pensive and making August’s pulse spike.
When Gigi disappeared into the bedroom, August swung his attention to the brooding newcomer, who struck August as a prick. “What?” August asked, not about to mince words.
Ghost’s brows twitched together.
“You’re still here. Seems like you’ve got something to say.”
Ghost plucked an olive from the small dish on the charcuterie board and popped it into his mouth. “I do.” His gaze flicked toward the bedroom, seemingly to make sure they were alone. “I don’t think you know what you’re up against.”
Annoyance poked August’s temples, but he tilted his head back and laughed. “Dude. If anyone knows what they’re getting into, it’s me. I dealt with this cartel months ago. They don’t scare me. We just need to get them in the right spot, that’s all.”
Ghost spread his long fingers on the white countertop. “I’m not talking about the cartel.”
August crossed his arms over his chest. “Who then?”
Ghost stood. The guy was built. Again, August got a weird vibe. The dude had a separation from the here and now that made August’s skin itchy. Ghost’s eyes—smoky and ominous—matched his name.
“The Radcliffes. Something tells me you need to be damn sure you want to bark up that tree. You might be facing people far more dangerous than the cartel.” He sidled around August and made his way to the door. “I’ll do some more digging on Todd. Hit at you later.”
Ghost left, and August stared at the closed door. Angst formed in the pit of his stomach.
He turned to find Gigi leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her slight frame and her hazel eyes fogged with worry. “I hope he’s not right.”
August locked his jaw. He couldn’t promise anything. Couldn’t assure her. And goddammit, he hated that more than the frightened look on her face.
Protectiveness surged inside him. Come at me. All of you bastards. Try to take what’s mine and I’ll kill you.
***
The smell of chicken slowly cooking in tangy tomato sauce and spices permeated the kitchen. Tikka masala was one of Gigi’s favorites and she hadn’t had it since making it for August two years ago.
Fresh naan bread was wrapped in foil on the counter, and she was waiting for the rice to finish on the stove. A rice cooker was one of the many appliances this place lacked, but one she could do without.
She’d also whipped up a batch of double-chocolate brownies and had just popped them in the oven. August was in his bedroom with the door open, and she’d heard him speaking on the phone a couple of times since everyone left.
Trying to track down Todd.
Now that the condo was quiet, her thoughts blared. Having everyone there had been intense, but the silence was harder. Fear crept in like smoke snaking its way under a closed door. Thick and dark. Suffocating.
And if she opened the door, she’d be swallowed by blackness. Her lungs would be filled with the toxic clouds until her last breath was squeezed from her chest and—
She pressed a hand to her thumping heart, forcing a deep sigh from her lips. Easy. August was close. They had help. The cartel couldn’t reach her. Not here and not now unless they were batshit enough to drive down to Seattle’s core and shoot up a thirty-story upper-class apartment building.
Unlikely. She swallowed and forced herself to check on their dinner. Then she took out plates and filled them with their sides. As long as her hands were moving, she’d stay calm.
After filling two glasses with water, she gathered utensils and the naan bread then set the table and called August into the kitchen.
He walked into the room with a hand on his stomach and his gaze skimming the lay out then moving to her. “Smells amazing. It was torture sitting in there waiting.” Warmth reached his eyes, and he approached and wrapped his hand around her waist. “Sit,” he said, leading her to the table. “You’ve been busy all day.”
“So have you.”
He shrugged. “I feel useless as shit.” He took a seat next to her and opened the foil. “You made naan?” he said, leaning forward and diving in. “Seriously?”
She chuckled. “It’s pretty easy actually.” She took a piece for herself and ripped off a chunk of the warm, moist flatbread.
August scooped chicken and rice into his mouth and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Damn, this is exactly what I’ve been missing the last two years.” He opened his eyes and his heated gaze ensnared her attention, making her heart pitter-patter in her chest.
“Really? Just the naan?” she asked tentatively. Seductively.
His mouth lifted at the corner and the skin around his eyes crinkled. “’Course not. I missed the tikka masala, too.”
She tipped back her head and a laugh rolled out. “You’re terrible.” With an elbow propped on the table, she pointed a finger at him, and his hand closed around hers before she could put it down.
With his large palm snuggly over her hand, her breath stilled. August’s eyes never left her face. Their emerald hues swirled with a mixture of feelings she couldn’t read. Passion? Lust? Regret. That was definitely there.
“I’ve missed you, Gigi. I missed you when I went on that fucking mission. I missed you in the jungle. I missed you more when I got back on American soil. And it gutted me when I found out you were engaged and I’d have to continue to miss you for the rest of my life.”
Her bottom lip went slack. His words slammed into her like darts being fired at a corkboard, each one disarming her. She swallowed, but the ball of remorse in her throat wouldn’t let her move her tongue.
“Gigi.” The syllables came out heavy. Pained. As if it took all his strength to utter her name. “I’ll never leave again. I don’t know what we have here,” he said, flicking his gaze around the dining room. “But I know I want more of it.”
“Me, too.” It was all she could muster. What else could she say?
Oh, god, August. I’m falling for you. No, I already fell for you. So hard it hurt. And now I can’t stop the gravitational pull that might impale me. Because lord knows I’m going to get hurt if something happens to you...
He winked. “Eat up. I’ve got dessert.” He released his hold and went back to his food. Her cheeks flamed at the implication and a deep tingle settled low in her abdomen, wanting release.
Then pain weaved through her chest, its merciless bites threatening to steal her happiness, warning her that this couldn’t last. That all the sex in the world couldn’t promise tomorrow.
That whatever this was between them could end as fast as it had started.
And leave her with a gaping hole in her chest.