Blacklisted: Blacklist Operations Book #1 Read online

  Her face darkened, the color rising in her cheeks. “It’s nice to know that you didn’t want to hurt me before you tortured and murdered me.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “May I please have my soup now?”

  “Do you want to feed yourself?”

  “No. I’ll just throw it at you.”

  He nodded and sat, spooning soup into her mouth until the bowl was half empty and her eyes were fluttering closed. She slumped back against the headboard and he put the bowl aside as a whistle blew somewhere on the ship. It was almost time to go.

  Chapter Eight

  Iran

  Bubhehr was a small, crowded port city that smelled like rich spices and salt from the ocean. Before the boat had docked, the scent was already overwhelming and Aidan, with great difficulty, maneuvered Sophie into a padded canvas tent bag.

  She was going to be furious when she woke up, he knew, but it wasn’t like they were on their way to being best friends in the first place. It was the best way to get to safety without attracting unwanted attention.

  The powder he’d mixed into her soup would put her in a dreamless, deep sleep. Even knowing that, he worried while he carried her through the docks on a luggage cart. Aidan imagined her waking, twisting in her handcuffs. No matter how many blankets he’d used to line the bag, it couldn’t be comfortable.

  Three years before, he’d snuck a hostage out of Spain in the same bag. She’d confessed on the long trip home that she still couldn’t stand confined spaces.

  Alexa had been like him, though, cold to the bone. Sophie was different. She gave all to protect the people she loved, but she wasn’t strong enough to bounce back and put it behind her. Knowing that fucked with his head, because he hated to be the person who’d caused her to warp.

  Every time he’d walked into the cabin after she admitted to being scared of the dark, she’d been staring blankly at the wall. When he realized that, he’d opened the blinds, hoping that she’d like being able to see glimpses of the azure sea.

  While he melted into the crowd, then turned and headed north for his car, Aidan allowed himself a moment to wonder what it would have been like if they’d met somewhere else. If he’d been more like her. Undamaged.

  “You can’t keep knocking me out.”

  Her head and limbs felt packed with cotton, and her body was sore from the way he’d transported her. When she’d first woken up, she’d leaned her head against the glass window and watched the landscape fly by. Cutting through populated communities, the highway that wound through Iran reminded her of the sun-scorched deserts between California and Mexico. Sophie lapsed dreamily into a memory of her father letting her select the music for the trip to Los Sonjoras.

  She woke again in the dark and Aidan was humming to a song on the radio. The lyrics were French, something about love and the moon. Of course he couldn’t carry a tune, but he kept singing until her head was pounding.

  “Can you shut up?”

  “Sorry,” he said, lapsing into silence.

  Once her head was clear enough for her to pull herself up in her seat, she turned to face him. The effort exhausted her, made her head loll on her neck as if her spine was cooked spaghetti. “What did you do to me?”

  “I got you into the car without having to chase off a crowd of concerned men.”

  “How?”

  “Sleeping powder. You’ll be fine in a few hours. Not even a headache.”

  “Damn it. I really fucking hate being drugged.”

  “You’ve been drugged before?” She answered his question with a glare, then they both lapsed into silence. When the music ended, Aidan reached out and twisted the dial, shutting it off.

  “Who drugged you?” Each word snapped from his lips, crisp and angry.

  “No one,” she said. “It was just an expression.”

  He quickly glanced away from the road to check her expression. She smiled at him, wondering just how much influence the drugs he’d given her was still having on her system, because she felt okay for the first time in a long time. Sophie closed her eyes and thought of her father.

  “So how do you manage to live all over Europe on a teacher’s salary,” he asked, awkwardly trying to continue the conversation.

  “My parents weren’t hurting for money. When they died they left most of it to us.”

  “How did they die?”

  “Car accident. They dropped me off at ballet when I was ten and I was standing outside the studio with my best friend, waiting to go in. The ground shook. I saw a fireball. They were gone.”

  He didn’t know what to say in the face of such a flat explanation, so Aidan focused on the mountains and waited for her to continue. The dark peaks mirrored his mood, put him on edge. He wasn’t sure whether he had enough left in him to drive through the night.

  Sophie spoke. “The police told me later that a gas truck driver had been drinking and ignored a stoplight. The funny thing is, his truck was fine. The problem was with my mom and dad’s car. The impact caused an explosion. Ironic, I guess, that it was with a gas truck.”

  “It must have been hard to lose them so young.” He loved his parents, though his work meant he couldn’t stay in close contact with them.

  “It was. I don’t remember it, honestly. I just remember the heat and running to the car. I knew it was them from the second the ground shook.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. I remember a man grabbed my shoulders and held me back, kept me from running straight into the fire. My knees were covered with blood later. Must have fallen down in the gravel. It was so hot that the metal on the car melted.”

  “Where did you go after that?” He realized that he wasn’t going to be able to continue much longer, though he hated to break the spell that made her come alive and speak to him.

  “Lyle. He took care of me. He and Dad worked together. Best friends for life kind of thing. Both Army guys.”

  “It’s hard to imagine Wells taking care of anyone.”

  Her eyes snapped to his. “If you knew him at all, you wouldn’t say that.”

  He kept his thoughts to himself, though his hands were so tight on the steering wheel that his knuckles went white.

  “Why do you hate him so much?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Right, Aidan. Because I haven’t already figured out from your tattoos that you were in the military. Oh, and I bet I’m too stupid to figure out that you work in intelligence. Even though you thought I was a spy or a terrorist.”

  Aidan, who was known for his silence and composure, had revealed too much to her. Something about her made him careless. Maybe it was what he’d done to her, thinking she was as much a monster as he. Remorse crept in around the edges when he started to get tired. With an internal groan, he took an exit.

  “Listen, Wells is bad news. When you get back to your real life, stay away from him. You’re not safe as long as he’s in your life.”

  “He’s not the one who took me from my hotel room.”

  “Maybe not, but I tracked his calls to Veronica and that’s how I found you. I don’t know if she’s using a cloned phone or if my information was fucked up or how I found you instead of her.”

  “No one like that would have anything to do with Lyle.”

  “You’re wrong. He doesn’t just have something to do with her. He trained her.”

  Sophie’s eyes lit with curiosity. “What makes you think that?”

  “It’s no secret that he’s a major player. We’ve had information for months that Lyle and The Hellenic Agency are planning something nasty; I don’t know if I can stop it without finding Veronica.”

  As the word left his mouth, Aidan realized that Sophie could be more than just a temporary hostage; she might be a valuable source of information. She had grown up with Wells, after all.

  “Do you remember any women coming to the house? She’d look kind of like you, but maybe five or ten years older. She’s a smoker.”

  “He had lots of women
over, but I’m pretty sure that none of them was a terrorist.”

  “You might be surprised. Most terrorists look like normal people.”

  “He wouldn’t associate with someone like that.” He loved her prim tone, but Aidan wanted to disabuse her of her notions.

  “He does. I swear to you, he does. I’ll prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

  “How?”

  “Pictures of them together. Pictures of him in places he shouldn’t be.”

  “Fine.” She seemed to deflate. “But I still think you’re wrong.”

  “I wish I was.”

  She watched the muscles in his forearms tighten as he steered the car through the empty streets. Aidan looked like he was close to falling asleep; the stress was affecting him more than she’d realized. When he stretched, she caught a better glimpse of the tattoo on his arm and wondered how far up it went, whether it stretched across his broad back.

  As inconvenient as it was, Sophie was a realist and refusing to admit to herself that she was attracted to him wasn’t helping anyone. She shifted in the seat and felt the heat between her thighs intensify. Pulling her gaze away from him, she focused on the apartments that lined the street.

  “I guess it just bothers me that you’re so sure he’s a bad person, especially with everything you’ve done.”

  “I’m not a good man,” he said, “but everything I do, I do to protect people who can’t protect themselves.”

  “Including what you did to me?”

  “If you understood…you’d see why I rushed in and refused to believe the obvious truth in front of my eyes. Your damn face and hair are so much like hers.”

  “Understood what?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Why? If I’m involved, then I already know. If I’m not, then I’m basically a dead woman walking anyway.” She took a deep breath, fully aware that she might not live through the next few days. The thought had flitted on the edges of her mind, but she’d rejected it and focused on her anger and, in a sick way, on him.

  Now, though, she let it wash through her. She closed her eyes and counted to three, then let it go.

  “You’re not a dead woman.”

  “I might be. Don’t lie to me, please.”

  “I’m going to fight for you, Sophie.” She turned back to him and saw him looking at her, then back to the road. Truth was in his mossy eyes, along with something she didn’t want to think about.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want you dead. Part of keeping you safe is not telling you everything. Isn’t staying in the dark worth your life?”

  “I’m not sure it is. Not if other people are at stake, too. What if you’re right and Lyle is involved? Maybe I could help you find what you’re looking for.” She knew that it wasn’t even a possibility, but she wanted Aidan to open up to her. He was different than she’d thought.

  “It’s not a fucking video game. You don’t follow the clues and find the treasure, then turn it off and go back to your comfortable little life. You don’t have what it takes to make it in this kind of world.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “When I slipped in the bathroom, you could have taken me down fast. You didn’t. I slipped, and you let me live.”

  She lifted her hand to her mouth and rubbed her fingers over her lips, considering his words. “Maybe it didn’t occur to me to kill you. Maybe I’m not that kind of person.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Suddenly it felt urgent that Aidan tell her how he classified himself.

  “It’s not that simple. Good, bad…it all depends on the day of the week. You’d probably consider me good. Others would see me as bad. Neither of you would be totally right.”

  When he’d started in the Army and been selected for Delta Force after four years, he’d considered himself wholly good. Serving overseas hadn’t shaken that image, nor had the first years with his elite squad. But things became gray and he left after a mission went bad and he found a way to get to Bartek.

  Then Oliver approached him and offered him another opportunity. No part of him wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t say no either. Not after what had happened.

  “So how do you see yourself?”

  “I’m just a man,” he said. Sophie wanted to ask more, but he was at the end of his rope, so she let it go. After a few minutes of silence, the car swerved.

  Sophie bolted to attention to find Aidan shaking his head, forcing back the sleep he desperately needed.

  “No way, Aidan. Either you stop for the night in the next five minutes or I’m driving.’

  “I wouldn’t let you behind this wheel for all the gold in Cairo.”

  “No. I’m sorry. You can hit me. You can drug me. You can force me away from my first real vacation in years and threaten to kill my best friend. But you’re not going to get me into two car accidents in one week. Not going to happen.”

  “You aren’t in change here.”

  “Maybe not. But if this car wrecks again, I will stop being cooperative. I will immediately run as far away from you as I can get and you’ll have to go explain to your precious boss that you were too stupid to get rest.”

  He sulked, but took a turn and pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. Turning off the engine, he slumped back in the seat and she gave a silent prayer of thanks.

  “Why did you think I’d run away from you when we got off the boat?”

  “Wouldn’t you have?”

  “I was planning to, but I reconsidered it after awhile. I guess I hadn’t made a decision yet.” The motor clicked as it cooled and she examined the rundown two-story motel.

  “Can I trust you here?”

  “If you promise me that you’ll actually sleep, I give you my word that I’ll be quiet and cooperative—at least until we’re back in the car.”

  He didn’t say anything, just searched her face as if trying to determine her sincerity.

  “I want to live, and I’m willing to work with you to achieve that if you’re willing to work with me.”

  “Deal.”

  Aidan climbed out of the car and walked around to let her out. Her legs were cramped, but the fresh night air helped her feel more awake than she had since the last time he slipped her sleeping drugs. Aidan unlatched her cuff and pulled her small, soft hand into his.

  “I have something to help treat your wounds. It was delivered with the car, or I would have given it to you on the ferry.”

  “What is it?”

  “A medication that’s currently being tested for field use. I can’t promise anything, but for most people it speeds healing fast enough that I’m willing to bet the last of your bruises will be gone by morning. Your hands should start to feel better too.” Remorse darkened his eyes, so she stopped herself from making any pithy remarks.

  They walked into the lobby and Aidan made arrangements with a man in a Red Sox hat. It seemed oddly out of place so far from America. Aidan took the key and guided Sophie to the elevator. The carpet was threadbare, worn from footsteps and weather. Even the air left a dry taste in her mouth, and she desperately wished for a glass of water to clear away the cobwebs in her throat.

  The room had little to recommend it. The bed was a double with stiff sheets and slick blankets that made a crunching sound when she sat down. The walls were papered in a red and gold pattern that had faded to maroon. There was no television, just a phone that Aidan unplugged from the wall.

  “Just to make sure,” he said, pulling back the covers on the bed. Sophie sat down in the single chair and took off her shoes. She heard the metal of the handcuffs and winced.

  “Can we please skip those for tonight?”

  Aidan went silent again, then motioned her toward the small bathroom. “If you need to go, go now.”

  “Thanks, boss,” she spat, stomping into the bathroom an
d slamming the door behind her.

  When she came back out, Aidan was laying on the bed with the handcuffs on the nightstand. “Here’s the deal: you can wear the cuffs or I’m going to put an arm around you before I fall asleep. If you try to get away, I’ll wake up.”

  “Can you actually sleep like that?”

  “I’ve slept through worse.” She scowled and he chuckled at her expression. She liked the flash of white teeth and the quick, lazy smile.

  He wasn’t advertising it to Sophie, but sleeping against her wasn’t going to be a hardship. Having that tight, curvy body pressed against his was more like a wet dream. Just thinking about it made his cock twitch in his boxer briefs. He clenched his thighs and willed it to settle down. He didn’t want to scare her.

  “Fine,” she said at length. “As long as I don’t have any damn metal on my wrists for a few hours.”

  She slid in next to him, keeping her back as far away from his chest as possible. The heat of her body crossed the space between them and warmed his skin. Aidan reached down and yanked up the covers, then moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. The soft t-shirt wasn’t much of a barrier. When he moved a little closer, he realized that she’d taken off her bra in the bathroom.

  His body clenched again, and he willed it to still. He hadn’t had such a problem controlling himself since high school.

  “Aidan,” she whispered, her hair a dull gold in the light that slipped through the curtain.

  “Yes?”

  “Why do you hate Lyle so much?”

  He didn’t answer, and eventually her breathing slowed. Each exhalation forced her soft breasts down to brush against his forearm. He waited an hour until he was sure that she wasn’t feigning sleep, then let himself slip away.

  In his dreams, she was there, too, just ahead of him in a field of yellow flowers. Sophie smiled in an easy, open way he’d never seen and plucked petals in handfuls, throwing them into the air. They spiraled out and brushed across his skin. God, she was beautiful. He laughed and started to go after her.