Hostile Attractions Page 6

  “I know,” he says. “I was going to take you back home, when…” He goes hard as steel, all of him. “What the hell were you doing?”

  “I told you—”

  “The fucking hard drive.” He jerks his chin at it like he wants to throw it into the street. “If you hadn’t tried to grab it, you could have been off the tracks in time. It’s not worth your life.”

  I laugh, because of course it is. What else were the past five years about except a sacrifice of myself? My life, the one I wanted to live?

  “It’s not funny. When I saw that asshole toss you over…”

  I tilt my head to get a better look at him because— No, those aren’t tears. He’s just angry he had to interrupt his schedule of hating me to rescue me.

  “Did you get a good look at him? Because he came up behind me. I didn’t see anything.”

  Elliot shakes his head. “Once you were on the tracks, I could only look at you.”

  There’s a long moment of quiet between us. He was probably only frightened or angry or panicking. It doesn’t mean he cares or anything like that. He’d probably be more worried about a dog or something on the track than me.

  But he still rescued me.

  “Thank you,” I say finally. “For saving me.”

  Elliot says nothing in return, but his throat bobs.

  He gets me back to the houseboat so quickly I don’t have time to worry about the cameras or someone else coming after us. He sets me down on the couch next to the windows lining the living room and then whips out his phone.

  With a quick glance at me, he steps outside to make his call. I can hear the low murmur of his voice, intense, commanding. Whatever he’s asking for, he wants it now.

  I loosen my arms and take stock of the drive. That stupid, horrible hard drive that I almost died for. There’s some dirt on it and some scuffs, but the case is intact. Hopefully nothing internal got damaged when I fell.

  With shaking hands, I put the drive on the coffee table. I can’t stop shivering suddenly as delayed shock rolls through me in a frigid wave. My teeth chatter as I wrap my arms around myself and clench my jaw to make it stop.

  I was only out on the street a matter of minutes and he found me. More than found me—he tried to kill me.

  Oh God. Oh God, oh God. I thought Fuchs would just send me to prison, but this…

  Elliot comes back in, his gaze sharp and assessing when it lands on me. “A private security detail’s coming. Five men, round the clock. And you’re not stepping out of here, not until we…” He bites his lip. “Until I figure out the safest place for you.” He looks out at the canal and then past it to the bridge and the bay. “Maybe I should have asked for a diver too. They have some ex-Navy SEALs on the team.”

  It’s funny what he’s done and the bit about the diver, but I’m also wound too tight to really laugh, so instead what comes out is more of a hiccup. “No, it’s probably okay.”

  I have no idea if it is. I have no idea if anything is okay.

  He gives me one last look, then goes upstairs to his bedroom. He comes back with a fluffy blanket that he wraps tightly around me, tucking me in as if I were a child.

  When he’s done, he stands up, looming over me. His mouth is stern, flat. “You almost died.”

  Another hiccup laugh. “I know. I was there.” I can feel crazed laughter bubbling in my chest, trying to break out. Oh boy. After everything I’ve been through, a little murder attempt is what breaks me?

  Elliot shakes his head. “No more smart remarks. No more arguing. I want the entire truth from you. Now.”

  “Or what, you’ll throw me out again?”

  He leans in so close I can smell mint on his breath. And a hint of something warmer. “That was your only warning. No. Smart. Remarks.” He gives me just enough space to breathe. “And no, you’re not going anywhere.”

  That’s the biggest threat he’s ever made to me. It’s exactly what I asked for, but not like this.

  “Fine.” I stand up, toss away the blanket. My shoes are gone, probably lost in the street somewhere, so he’s got at least a foot on me. I don’t care. “Let me tell you everything. You want a confession?”

  He doesn’t reply, just keeps that stony stare.

  I’m on a roll though. I tap my chest, hard. “Here, then, this is what you wanted. I’ve turned people out of their homes, old people, poor people, because Fuchs wanted a building torn down. It blocked his office view, see, and he didn’t like it. They begged me—one woman even had an oxygen tank—but I smiled in all their faces and signed the eviction notices. And down that building came. Nothing else was put there.”

  He says nothing.

  “Gordian Development didn’t come to us—we went to them. Oh, have we got the scheme for you! I told them. All that riffraff, the people who can’t afford to live here anymore, those living reminders of how you drove out anyone who wasn’t rich—I can get rid of them for you. Make those property values soar.”

  He still says nothing.

  “They wanted more money of course, but what they really wanted was their guilt washed away. All those people they’d pushed out into the streets—they didn’t want to see them anymore, didn’t want the reminder of what they’d done. And I gave them that. Without hesitation.”

  Finally he moves. Just a twitch of his mouth.

  “Oh, there’s so much more,” I promise. “Do you know how many suicides we have a month at Corvus? It’s a lot. And when someone can’t take it anymore—the long hours, the lack of freedom, the secrecy—and walks up the stairs to the roof, I’m the one who goes to the family. I give them their blood money, so little as to be an insult, and I make it very, very clear that if they sue Corvus for anything, I’ll bury them. Personally.”

  Those were the worst. I thought I hid my old self so deeply in Minerva she’d never come out again, but seeing those families… threatening them like that…

  I suppose it proved I was still human after all. Just not human enough to stop doing it.

  Elliot is shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Liar.” I snap that out like the tail of a whip. “That’s exactly what you want. To hear all the ways you should hate me. It feels so good to hate me, doesn’t it?”

  “Stop.” His voice is deeper than I’ve ever heard. Deep enough to vibrate all the way to my toes.

  “No.” What’s he going to do about my smart remarks, kick me out? Besides, I almost died by Caltrain a few minutes ago. Something in me went sideways when that happened. I’m not Minerva, and I’m not who I used to be.

  I’m someone else entirely, and she wants to keep going.

  “I’m not done.” I ball my hands into fists. “I’m not anywhere near finished.”

  “Shut. Up.” His expression is stark, his skin blanched.

  “Why don’t you make me?”

  The dare I throw out bounces between us, springing off him, then me, then him again. Everything shifts, like the boat has tilted.

  He’s breathing too hard. We haven’t even done anything—he shouldn’t be breathing like that. “Stop talking.”

  It’s not a threat, more like a long-awaited promise.

  “I’m not going to shut up.” Another promise.

  He breathes heavily, too hard to be a pant. His eyes are dark pools, his face so close to mine. His control is just barely there. “Stop.”

  “No. You’ll have to shut me up if you want me to stop.” I shouldn’t taunt him, not when he’s so clearly on edge, but I can’t help myself. “You’ll have to cover my mouth, shove something in it.”

  Another heavy, serrated breath, more animal than human. “I warned you.”

  I snort. “What are you going to do? I know what you want to do.” The image blooms in my mind before I can halt it. “You want to shut me up with your cock. Your hard, thick cock in my mouth, finally making me quiet. Under your control.”

  Minerva would never say that. The girl I used to be wouldn’t either.

>   But when I say it, I mean every word.

  Elliot grabs me by the neck, his hand so big, so heavy. I tilt my face up, offering my mouth to him. He wants to take me, and I want to be taken.

  Chapter 10

  This woman is all fire.

  I told myself when I first encountered her that she was cold to her very bones and that was why I had such a reaction to her. That my reaction was all repulsion.

  But I lied. My reaction was more than that, just as I sensed Minerva was more than a cold, unfeeling automaton.

  She provokes me, and she always has. But now I have her.

  Her lips move against mine, soft, full. The rest of her is slim, almost angular, but those lips…

  Her taunts hit too close to home. Because, yeah, I jerked it to dreams of those lips wrapped around my cock, her mouth hot and wet on my skin.

  She’s kissing me like she had some dreams of her own. Of my tongue in her mouth—just like it is now—my hands sliding up her torso, cupping her breasts—like they are now—and her pussy, tight and achy. Needing my fingers.

  My hand tightens in her hair, pulling her close with a greedy urgency I hardly recognize in myself. I’m a careful, considerate lover. I don’t maul my partners.

  But goddamn, I want to consume this woman. It’s like she reaches inside me and snaps my reserve right in half.

  A little moan escapes her, half pain, half pleasure. I tug her hair again, hard enough to let her know I’m not letting go, and her mouth opens, giving me full access.

  Her shirt—my shirt—slips off one shoulder, revealing inches of gorgeous skin. I bend over, run my tongue over the arches of her collarbones. She shivers, and I smile with triumph.

  One tug from me and that shirt could be on the floor. Her breasts are hard against my chest, her nipples tight points driving me mad, and I can tell she’s not wearing a bra. Another tug and the sweatpants could join the shirt. And she’d be entirely bare to me.

  She couldn’t hide then. I’d see all of her.

  The thought beats in my blood, making my cock stiffen. She licks into my mouth, bold as anything, and I growl. Actually growl, like some kind of rutting animal.

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Do that again.”

  Fuuuck. The way she says that, all thready and broken… I bend her over my arm, arch that body of hers into mine, just like I imagined.

  There’s a sharp rap at the door, then another. Not someone coming to visit but here on official business then.

  Her eyes go wide, shock flooding her expression. She wriggles her hands between us, levering me away.

  I let her go just enough to make sure she won’t fall, then call out, “Yes?”

  “Just wanted to let you know we’re in place, sir” comes from the other side of the door.

  The security detail is here. Something unknots in my gut. If Fuchs or his goons were to come through that door, I’d fight like hell to keep them from Minerva, but it’s good to have backup.

  Minerva looks up at me, licks her lips. The desire is gone, replaced by reality. And a sad fearfulness.

  I lower both of us to the couch, keeping her in my arms. Somehow I know she needs the comfort. Even if it comes from me.

  “It will all be fine now,” I promise. “No one will get through those guys.”

  She leans against me, breathing in time with my inhales and exhales. Somehow, in only a day or so, we’ve fallen into the same rhythm. “I’m afraid.” She confesses it like it’s something to be ashamed of.

  “You weren’t before?” Because she had been, soaking wet and running to me in the middle of a storm. Even when I tried my hardest to keep hating her, that fear tore at me.

  “I was, but… not like this. I thought he’d only send me to prison.”

  “He can do that?”

  She sends me a look that says Oh, you sweet summer child. “You read those documents, saw who he controls in the government. He can do anything to me through them.”

  “It wouldn’t be legal.” God, it’s such a stupid thing to say, but I can’t help it. Even after everything I’ve seen, I still cling to some faith in the law. We don’t disappear people. We don’t extrajudicially murder citizens. We’re better than that.

  I know they’re all lies, but some part of me wishes they weren’t.

  She laughs, her eyes closed. “Fuchs is beyond the legal system.”

  “Tell me—” I stop, gentle what I was about to say. I can’t command this woman, not anymore. “Can you tell me more about what happened? At Corvus?”

  “I didn’t tell you the worst thing I did.”

  Jesus. I swallow down my reaction. “I don’t mean that. I know there’s more you haven’t told me. I meant about you, your friends. Tell me what you can. What you trust me with.”

  I can’t say that I trust her, and I’m certain she doesn’t trust me, not really, but we’ve got to start somewhere. That hard drive sitting on the table is like a ticking time bomb, and somehow we’ve got to defuse it. Or else she’s going to end up dead.

  My breath hitches. Goddamn, but she was so close today. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life about that train.

  Her hand slips up my chest, then hooks around my neck. As if she’s anchoring herself. Then she pushes me away. Sits up, alone on the couch, putting a foot of space between us.

  It’s the right thing to do—I was practically cuddling her, which I don’t do, not ever, and we’re not… not even friends. I cross my arms, putting even more distance between us.

  “This was the plan all along.” Her voice is stronger, steadier. “For me to work at Corvus for a while, gather and smuggle out as much internal information as I could, and then we’d expose it. As a way to stop them. We knew even then that they were up to some bad shit.”

  “A while? How long was that supposed to be?” Five years is a very long time for a plan like this.

  She shrugs. “A year. At most. But the higher up the ladder I moved, the more awful shit I found. I hoarded it like a treasure. And at the end of each year I thought, ‘Just a little longer. A little more evidence. And then I’ll be done.’”

  “What did your friends say?” And who the fuck lets a woman like this—their friend, for Christ’s sake—work for a monster like Fuchs for so long?

  “Nothing.” She raises a clear gaze to mine. “I had no contact with them the entire time. It was too risky.”

  My mouth drops open. If that’s true…

  I fight the impulse to disbelieve her. If this is all a story—and it could be—she’s gone to some lengths to make me believe. But on some level, it’s too fantastical. No one has the resolve to do what she said she did.

  But if it is true, she’s been completely alone the past five years.

  “You have no idea if your friends are still… in on it?”

  She shakes her head. “That’s why I need to contact them. But carefully. I don’t want to lead Fuchs to them.”

  I frown. “But… he’ll find them anyway. Everybody’s connected online these days.”

  “He won’t.”

  She says it with such certainty. And it hits me—her real name is not Minerva. She’s been living an utterly consuming lie—as an entirely different person—for five years.

  And she isn’t going to tell me about it.

  I lean back, resettle my arms. I’m not going to let on that I’ve figured her out. I’m definitely not going to ask what her real name is. No, letting Finn do some digging in the dark corners of the internet will be much more effective. But I will get her true identity somehow.

  “How many were in on this?”

  “There were four of us, including me.”

  So she’s only got three people in this entire world who might help her. Emphasis on the might.

  “And your family? Didn’t they notice when you disappeared?”

  “We’ve had no contact since—for a while.” There’s not a flicker of anything on her face. It looks like the family got left behind a long tim
e ago if it doesn’t hurt anymore.

  Although, my dad’s been dead for years, and I’m still fucked up about it. So time isn’t the best measure.

  “Can you contact the others?” Five years is a long time. Emails change, phones get disconnected, people move. And her friends might not be committed to the cause any longer. Especially with the jail time they might be looking at, not to mention the legal fees. Whistle-blowing isn’t easy.

  “I have some emails I could try.”

  I grab my laptop, hand it to her. “Send them messages. All of them. I assume you already know what security measures to use.”

  She nods, then gets to it. Her hair is down, all around her shoulders, and she hasn’t hiked the shirt back up. At some point she crossed her legs, the better to balance the laptop.

  I can’t say she looks younger or more relaxed. Just different. Someone else entirely than Minerva.

  “You can’t tell anyone about this.” She doesn’t look up from the computer screen.

  “Pardon?”

  “The other Bastards.” When she meets my gaze, the old Minerva is back. “I know you’re planning to, but you can’t.”

  “This thing has spun way out of your control. And mine. You can’t set any rules.” Let her think I’m the world’s biggest asshole, but that’s not a condition I’m going to meet. I need help with this. And so does she, beyond those shitty friends of hers.

  Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t argue. I’m under no illusions—she’s not agreeing with me. She’s saving the fight for later.

  “Done.” She closes the laptop and takes a deep breath. “Hopefully they’ll answer.”

  “How did you find these people?” I don’t know anything about them besides that they put her up to this.

  “We’re young and idealistic.” She smiles sadly. “At least we were. And like attracts like. I’m sure you have a big circle of stuffy lawyer types you hang out with.”

  I don’t. My work keeps me too busy. And once the day is done, I only want to come home to this quiet island that’s all mine.

  Before I can answer, she yawns. Before she covers her mouth, I see the flash of her teeth, the pink of her tongue.