3. Chapter 3
“Stopp what yerr doing,” a deep voice slurred from behind her.
Kate froze.
Oh? Could this be Special Agent Raz Malone? A smile spread across her face. By the sound of it, he’d partaken in the vending machine goodies she’d spiked. She straightened her fingers from the back of the pricey bra she’d just clasped into place.
“Now get onn the grounnd.” He stepped forward with a tap.
She chewed her lip and glanced back, the pink bobbed wig resting over her shoulder. The bright flashlight blinded her from seeing anything about the officer. A spirit presence pressed against her with warmth and foreignness.
Wait, hadn’t she felt that before from another person?
“You doing okay, honey?” she purred. “You sound sick.” In slow increments, she widened her arms and lifted them above her head.
“I said get onnn the ground.” His words held a gravelly growl that caressed her senses like a kiss in the dark.
“Are you sure? I have a nice backside, but I have to admit this bra makes—“
“Ssshut’up. If I have to—“ His sentence ended with a gag.
The flashlight’s beam faltering was all the clue she needed—she dashed.
The three steps to the door seemed to take forever. Her arm hair prickled. He was giving chase.
A bubbling rose from within her, lifting her lips into a smile. Her shoes skidded on the linoleum floor as she rounded the corner. Need to get to the fire escape. She sucked in air and ran down the hallway.
Something thumped behind her as if someone were hitting a wall.
She snickered to herself, knowing the drug was working on Raz.
Gasping, she sprinted for the next room.
Straight through the office, she vaulted over the large cedar desk, kicking over the leather chair behind it.
She landed on the knocked-over furniture and dove partially through the open window she’d left cracked.
Her fingers gripped the metal grating of the fire escape and she heaved herself outside. Pain sliced into her mind as her knees and shins scraped against the windowsill.
”—fucking kidding me,“ yelled a strained voice from inside the office.
Heart jumping into her throat, she picked herself up and climbed the steps to reach higher ground. When she reached the fourth floor, her lungs bursting from her chest, heavy footsteps banged up the stairs.
Reaching the top landing, she glanced over the rail. As if the male sensed her pause, he stopped two floors down and leaned over to look up.
Fuck. His picture didn’t do him justice.
Furrowing his black brows, he gazed at her with narrowed dark eyes that shimmered red in the light of the setting sun. Something warm and decadent sizzled in the air between them. The baseball cap hid dark hair. His physique was like a bodybuilding runner, someone who could outmatch her any day.
“You done?” he called, his hands clenching the railing.
She winked at him, earning a frustrated curse in return.
Palms slick and mouth dry, she twisted and hopped to grab the building’s edge. She hooked her leg over the side and jumped to her feet. The landing banged as he hit the top. Breathing deeply, she ran at full speed.
Her shoes slapped over the puddle-riddled roof and she dodged around large metal obstacles. Footsteps sounded behind—gaining on her. As she approached the edge, a warmth brushed against her back.
She leaped.
Her stomach dropped and tingled. In midair, he grabbed her arm as he jumped with her.
Twisting away from him, she tucked into a roll.
She landed on the next building, somersaulting twice.
Her right shoulder rammed into something solid.
With a sickening thud, she stopped. Shoots of stabbing pain immobilized her.
“Shit,” she screamed, resting her head back against the metal box she’d run into. Lightheaded and unable to move her shoulder, she clutched her arm and rolled to her feet.
“Will you listen to me now?” he asked in a heated tone, his shadow touching the metal air-conditioning unit between them. “Get on the ground.”
Taking a timid step backward, she eyed him from his white Vans and jeans to his black leather jacket that displayed his lean, agile form in a casual yet dangerously alluring way.
His drawn eyes swept over her banged-up knees and her shoulder with concern.
Not what I’d expect given the situation.
Must be a caring guy to worry about a thief.
But she’d had worse injuries on some of her heists in her previous lives.
Naomi had patched her up every time, so she owed it to her sister to fix her mistake.
She walked another step backward, struggling to catch her breath.
The exertion didn’t seem to faze him, body tense but composed.
He took a few steps forward, mimicking her movements in a relaxed stance, as if believing he had her cornered.
When her foot hit the ledge behind her, she stepped up onto the small outcropping without looking away from him.
He paled, arms spreading out. “I mean you no harm. Just come with me. Everything will be fine.”
She glanced down. The drop was long, but a glint of yellow from another fire escape had her grinning on the inside.
“What’s your name?” he asked, as if trying to keep her focus.
“Shouldn’t you know that before you go on the first date?”
His copper eyes gleamed with curious amusement. “Didn’t realize this was a date.”
“What is a date if not two people chasing each other?”
“And getting to know one another?”
“True…what have you learned about me?”
“You’re a risk-taker.”
“Bingo.” She grinned and stepped back off the ledge.
Something grasped her skintight top. Yanking her back, he caused her shirt threads to give way with a rip underneath the sequined bra. She gasped, her head whipping as she reached forward with her good arm and grabbed hold of his bulging, muscular bicep.
His knuckles pushed into her stomach as she leaned toward him to steady herself.
“You’re fast…” she whispered, out-of-breath. Warmth seeped through the leather in her grasp. Her heart throbbed with anticipation even through the pain.
“That was stupid,” he said, hot breath caressing her senses in a wave of mint.
“Not as much as you think.” She tilted her head to the side.
He grabbed her good arm and leaned over to scan the small fire escape ledge she had planned to drop to. Like he said, she was a risk-taker, and he’d given her no other option.
He shook his head. “Better luck next time. You’re under arrest.”
He walked backward, and she fell forward onto the roof without his support.
She landed a breath away from him. A sizzle caressed her skin again, and fire spread throughout her body.
She came to just below his chin, and oh, how she wished to bite that strong jawline just to see his reaction.
She gazed up at him from under her lashes.
He had an attractive face: hard, masculine edges and predatory coppery eyes.
She hadn’t felt attraction like this in, well…
forever. This man was carnal energy hidden under a serious exterior—though he was willing to banter with her.
Clearing his throat, he stepped back. The cold handcuff clicked around her left wrist. He grasped her other arm and agony shot from her shoulder down her spine.
She whimpered as tears stung her eyes. Gingerly, as if he didn’t want to hurt her, he moved her hands in front of her torso and handcuffed them.
The wail of incoming sirens accompanied him as he read the Miranda Rights. All the while, she watched him with interest and kept her inner mirth from reaching her face.
Hook. Line. And sinker.
“Hey baby,” Kate said into the phone to Clyde a few hours later.
As her Coheart, Clyde was a friend she’d chosen to give immortality to so he could assist her from one reincarnated life to the next.
She met the bemused gaze of the copper-eyed detective standing before her in the field office hallway.
Special Agent Raz Malone with the FBI.
His slicked-back, mahogany-brown hair refracted red in the warm fluorescent light above their heads. His casual closeness, arms crossed, and legs spread firmly, hypnotized her.
Taking a deep breath, she turned her back to him and continued, “How many episodes of Scandalous in Miami am I missing?”
“Ichikawa-san, you are going to be the death of me,” Clyde snapped in Japanese. “Did you succeed?”
“That’s a relief,” she beamed in English, answering his question in code since she didn’t want to speak plainly with Raz around. She twirled the phone cord around her finger. “Do you remember that episode where Claire goes to jail?”
Clyde huffed. Kate could hear his smile over the phone when he said, “Good for you. Let us know if you need any help, though I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Put’er on s-speak-her,” a woman’s voice slurred loudly across the line—her other, obviously drunk Coheart—Bonnie.
Bitter guilt rested in the rear of Kate’s throat, for she knew Bonnie had fallen off the wagon again. She forced a grin and an excited tone. “Celebrating early, huh?”
“I remember the episode, Ichikawa-san,” Clyde said. “It has a happy ending, remember?”
Right. I’m here to find the Dragon SEALs.
A weirdly named secret militant team she believed, fuck, she really hoped, that Raz was a part of.
When she heard someone had destroyed one of Matsuda’s secret labs without leaving a trace, she knew it had to be them and that she needed their help.
Their unique combination of skills, resources, and targeting of Matsuda made them the most viable choice for her high-risk, off-the-books deep-sea rescue mission.
But if there was one thing she understood about their team, she had to prove herself first for them to take her seriously—case in point: become the Bubblegum Bandit.