Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen) (6 page)

“It’s not that—”

“You know what? Fuck this. If that’s how you’re going to be, this isn’t going to work.” If he wanted to accuse me of something, then he damn well better say it. I’d rather deal with the disappointment in Chris’s eyes than the cryptic and vague accusations Murphy was wielding.

Within seconds, he grasped my elbow and spun me back toward him. Anger seeped from him. His body was rock hard, tense and I couldn’t stop the small intake of breath as  his body came into contact with mine. Aroused yearning started deep within me, radiating outward until I swore he knew I was wet for him.

“Let. Me. Go.” I ground out, through clenched teeth. “My brother—”

“You think your brother can help you? This is my shift, baby doll.” He walked me backward, but I didn’t realize it until my back hit the wall behind me. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t take the intensity of his expression, of those icy blues. “You’re under my care. I’m in charge of this team.”

His hands tightened and he stepped so close, so that he was completely pressed against me. Every hard, delicious inch of him. The scent of his cologne sinfully wound its way around my senses. His face was close, his mouth mere centimeters from my neck. “The work we do here is far too important to trust outsiders with, even you.” His hot breath fanned against my skin. “You shot Rene Giroux to save my teammate’s wife, an act which I am extremely impressed by… and grateful for, but now your hands are dirty and you’re not safe anymore. You know that. You have to trust me.”

“Don’t hurt me.” I managed to whisper out between breaths. I didn’t really believe that he would, but I was shoved against a wall, unable to move and panic was slipping into my chest.

His lips brushed against my ear, his words hot and heavy against it as I trembled. “I promise you I will not hurt you. I do not break my word.”

He pulled back, and met my eyes. I lost myself in the whirlwind of my own emotions and his eyes. What he didn’t get was that I was predisposed to be hurt by him, and yet, I kept going back for more. “Where do you find such courage?”

His hand slid around to the small of my back, an anchor in the whirlpool of my emotions. He didn’t answer my question. “You need to stay here. I can’t protect you somewhere else. Only here. With me.”

The Giroux family would want me as soon as they figured out what Alex had done. They’d keep me alive long enough to get what they wanted. After that, I’d be expendable. Their enemies? They’d not be as nice. Rene had been a powerful, evil man. A tamer version of Simon Giroux. Marie and Jean were just as bad. Marie was dead, apparently, but Jean was out there still. And he’d been close with Alex. His anger would demand payback.

Their father was one of the most dangerous men in the world. His reach extended over several continents, which meant I wasn’t safe anywhere.

Like it or not, for now, I needed their help and I hated that. I didn’t want to trust them. I shuddered out a long, emotional breath, my body relaxing with the exhale. He sensed the change in me, and let go of my wrists, though his other hand remained on my back. I liked it there. It was comforting. Anchoring.

I lowered my arms down to my sides, feeling the weight on my shoulders where a moment ago he’d held it away from me. He didn’t have any idea the weight I carried. Hell, I wasn’t completely sure that I knew.

His hands left me, but only to cup my face in his palms. So close. All I had to do was tilt my head just so and our lips would touch. But fear kept me from doing it. His tender touch was a sharp contrast to his harsh, determined words.

“You’re Chris Hardy’s sister. I will protect you with everything I have.”

The determination in his gaze speared me between the eyes. I believed him, but I also knew he didn’t believe me. For all his talk of protection, there was a deep-seeded distrust in his eyes. I didn’t know that I would trust me in his position either, but it still hurt that he thought I planned this, that I was some sort of spy sent to find them.

My gaze lowered to his lips, such perfect lips. I just wanted to touch them, feel them against mine, but he pulled away. He released me altogether, stepping out of my personal bubble zone.

No that wasn’t me. I was just a girl who had been delivered into a bad situation, who had helped a good man try to be free, who had gotten sucked into a life she hated, and was now paying the price for that.

He blew out a breath. “Guess Hardy’s not bringing lunch. Maybe I should remind him.” Before I could even straighten up, he’d vanished into the next room and left me cold.

~*~*~

Murphy

I shut the bedroom door behind me. I expected Addison to burst right through that door if she wanted. I remembered her as a child. I was a couple years older than her and Chris, but I remembered the force of nature she’d been.

She never took “no” for an answer. She never accepted a situation she didn’t like. Growing up, she’d been infuriating. A little blonde tagalong that drove me to distraction even back then. Chris would tell her not to follow us, and five minutes later, she’d be there, asking her crazy questions.

She was testing my control now, but not the way she had then. Secretly, I had liked her all those years ago, but she’d been off limits, the twin sister of my best friend. It would have complicated things far too much.

I flopped on the couch and blew out a breath. How was she so good at making me bad? Every time I was near her, I just wanted to devour her. And I couldn’t, because she was part of the mission now and she was Chris’s sister. I had to be a professional.

The outside door opened, and Hardy came in carrying food. “Hey. She awake yet?”

“Yeah, she’s awake. And not happy.”

Hardy shrugged, obviously not as concerned as I was. “We knew she wouldn’t be. If it was up to her, she’d probably be halfway across the world by now.”

“You ever wonder if we’re doing the right thing with her?”

Hardy swallowed, pausing a moment as he set the food down on the table behind the couch. “She’s my sister, Murphy.”

“I know that. But protocol says—”

“I’m not sending her off to be interrogated by the NSA or the CIA or the FBI or any other group with three letters.” Hardy faced me, sheer determination in his gaze. “She stays here. With me.” Hardy didn’t normally contradict me, but I couldn’t blame him for that.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if it was my family in this position. Though really, Addison and Chris Hardy were as close to family as I got. I wasn’t about to acknowledge my parents, or anyone else that had a hand in my upbringing. It was a wonder I was sane.

“I know. I agree, or I would have said something earlier.”

Hardy ran both hands over his face and paced the length of the room. “I’m sorry, Murph. I’m just… this is fucking stressful. What the hell is she doing with Alex Giroux?”

“I know.” I was repeating myself, but I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t prepared to handle emotions, especially from Chris Hardy. “Listen, I promised her I’d keep her safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone imprison her, provided she promised not to try to escape again.”

Chris frowned. “You know you don’t have complete control here. If any of the officers visit and see her…”

“Yes, I’m aware. But if I’m getting results, I think that’ll go a long way to getting her released and sent home rather than being arrested.”

Our attention was drawn to the side, where Addison’s door creaked open. She steeled her shoulders when she realized we were aware of her. “I thought I heard voices. I figured I’d try the door and see if you’d reneged on our agreement yet.”

“Goddamn it, Addison!”

“I’m joking,” she chuckled. “Come on, Murphy, live a little.” Her gaze wandered over the bags of food on the table and then back to us. She met my eyes, but averted her gaze quickly. “Any of that for me?”

“Of course. There’s a lady that makes awesome
humitas
not too far from here. I thought you might like some.”

“I don’t know what those are, but I’ll try anything at this point.” She nodded and headed to the table. She rummaged through the bags. 

She grabbed what she wanted and sat down on the other side of the couch from me. Far enough that I couldn’t touch her. I noticed she was also trying not to let her leg bother her, but it had only been a few days. Gunshot wounds took weeks to mend right, more if it had been shells that bounced around inside her body and tore up her flesh internally. Luckily, White had said it wasn’t the case with hers. Still,  I was surprised she could walk on it at all. Her tenacity and perseverance was impressive.

She sat back against the couch, the food in her lap while she ate, content to completely ignore us. I glanced at Chris, who shrugged. So, she’d agreed to stay, but I didn’t think for a second she wasn’t going to find another way to fight us.

Addison

It was a little awkward sitting there with my brother in the room. I was a little sad that I hadn’t kept yup with him. But the awkwardness didn’t come from not seeing him. It came from the very obvious fact that I was a problem. I was stubborn, and I didn’t give up on what I believed in. But the thing was… the whole thing was laughable. I was one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of trouble in their opinion. But they’d taught me to be this way. They’d spent childhood forcing me to be independent and take care of myself. They couldn’t get mad at me for that.

The common room. That was the room I’d come into. It was well lived in. Almost like a real apartment. They spent a lot of time here, if I were to judge by the well-read gun magazines, and fitness books lying about on the coffee table.

There was a TV in the corner, which was strange. I wondered what they watched when they were in here. Behind me, there was a table with four chairs arranged around it, almost like a dining room table. But I knew they had a separate chow hall, so maybe they played games there or something.

The only thing missing were windows. You never really notice windows until they aren’t there anymore. It triggered a low level panic within me that I had to fight to keep it from barreling to the surface. I’d had claustrophobia as a child, and sometimes it still flared up. Considering the crazy tension in the room, I was feeling it.

But this was my current life, stuck in underground hell with my brother and his best friend.

“You can’t stay silent forever.”

Speak of the devil.

I could be silent if I damn well pleased. I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. I wasn’t really that angry, but honestly, I was tired of being dictated to.

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Addy. You have to talk sooner or later.”

“I will not say anything that might incriminate me. And you can’t make me.”

“Nothing is going incriminate you here. You living here for now—”

I turned my head toward him, slow and deliberate, but the expression on my face was enough to stop him from finishing that sentence. “Let’s get one thing straight, Chris. I don’t live here. I live in a really gorgeous house, with a nice view and a private beach, and a lush expense account. I may have agreed not to run for now, but I still don’t live here.”

“That was Alex Giroux’s house.” Chris spat out, his disgust apparent.

“Yep. Sure was.” With Alex’s death, I owned it all. Chris obviously had not found out that tidbit yet. No doubt that was coming soon, and I wanted to be gone before that happened.

Chris sighed and sat down on the couch next to me. I ignored him. “Addy… How did you meet Alex Giroux? How did you even get sucked into this mess?”

Twisting to look at my brother, it was hard to realize that we were twins. Sure we had the same grey-blue eyes, the same sunny hair, the same facial structure, though his were more angular and masculine than mine. But we were as different as night and day inside. He was the saint, and I was the fuck-up.

“Oh, are we due for another interrogation?” I folded my hands together and held them out. “Shouldn’t you go get your handcuffs? You know, let’s make it all official-like.”

“Fuck it all, Addy, would you stop being a brat?” My brother growled.

“Why don’t you stop being an asshole?”

“Children!” Both of us stopped and turned toward the sound. I think we’d both forgotten that Murphy was there. It wasn’t hard. He wasn’t talking. He just let us argue. Murphy leaned over the back of the couch between us so we had to look at him. “Do I need to put you two in time-out?”

“I’m already fucking there,” I shot back, and leaned back into the couch. I crossed my arms in a moderate sulk. My goal wasn’t to antagonize my brother. That was counter-intuitive to actually getting out of the prison he’d put me in. But with him, it just seemed to happen. It
always
just seemed to happen.

With Murphy, it was a different story. His eyebrow quirked up, his gaze shifting from me to Chris. The calm, silent way he commanded obedience and silence bled the fight out of me. I didn’t understand how he did that. He walked in and all I wanted to do was what he wanted me to do. And that ticked me off.

“Can’t leave you two alone for two minutes without the bickering. It’s like we’re ten again.” He shook his head.

“But when we were ten, you were twelve.”