Steel Vengeance (Blackthorn Security #6)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

S loane jumped up as the door opened, and Stitch walked in, followed by one of the tallest guys she’d ever seen. Stitch was big, but this guy was a giant—easily six foot five or six, with a chiseled jaw and sharp, piercing eyes. He even had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe.

“Sloane, this is Blade. Blade, meet Agent Sloane Carmichael.”

She shook his hand. It practically swallowed hers.

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Call me Sloane.”

“Hey, Sloane. Sorry to hear about your arm.” Stitch had given her a sling to keep the weight off, but the bandage was a different story.

“Thanks.” She grimaced at Stitch. “I tried redoing it, but it’s not tight enough.”

“I’ll fix it. Take a seat.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

Blade dropped his rucksack on the floor and pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna call Lilly real quick. She’ll want to know I made it here in one piece.”

Stitch nodded as Blade stepped out of the room, but not before giving them a curious glance.

Sloane sat down, and let Stitch take off the sling and ease her arm out. “You’ll need to undo your shirt so I can get to it.”

She hesitated, meeting his gaze in the mirror. Still no mention of last night.

He looked away.

So that’s how it’s gonna be, is it? Just pretend like it didn’t happen.

Fine .

She unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her injured arm. He helped, gently holding her elbow. She wanted to pull away, especially after last night’s disaster, but she needed his help.

“Let me take a look,” he said, in medic mode, calm and professional.

He stood right in front of her, his legs between hers, wearing jeans that hugged his thighs a little too perfectly and a black T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest.

Memories of last night hit her like a tidal wave.

His hand in her hair, holding her head still as he kissed her.

His rock-solid body under hers, their legs tangled together.

She sucked in a ragged breath and focused on his hands as he undid her bandage, trying not to notice how close he was or the clean, masculine scent that filled the air. His chest was inches away, and if she looked down?—

Hell, no.

She wasn’t going there.

Then the bandage was off.

Stitch frowned as he inspected the wound.

He leaned in closer to get a better look. His breath brushed against her chest, making her nipples react under her bra. She had to fight the urge to grip his hair and draw his head down to hers.

“What?” she asked, her mind barely able to focus.

“It’s a little inflamed. I’m gonna give you another antibiotic shot.” He straightened up.

“Is it bad?”

“Not too bad, but I don’t want it to get infected.”

He turned and dug through his medical kit, pulling out a syringe and a small vial. After drawing the liquid into the syringe, he tapped it to get rid of the air bubbles.

“This’ll sting for a second,” he said before jabbing it into her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth at the sting.

“Sorry.”

He removed the needle, capped it, and tossed it into the wastepaper basket. She remembered seeing him do the same thing with Fatima.

“All done,” he said. “Now let me rewrap it.”

He placed a fresh strip of gauze over her stitches. The skin was puckered and warm to the touch. She shivered as he smoothed down the edges.

Then came the torturous part—winding the bandage around her arm.

With every turn, the back of his hand brushed against her breast. By the time he was finished, she was a hot mess of molten heat. Any longer, and she would have spontaneously combusted.

“Thanks,” she croaked when he was done.

He gave a tight nod. “No problem.”

She slipped her arm back into her sleeve, buttoning up her shirt as fast as she could. He studied her, without saying a word.

Was he thinking about last night, too? About how he’d ripped her shirt open? Maybe, because his gaze grew heated, and his eyes drifted back up to meet hers.

She refused to look at him. She couldn’t.

“Sloane, I?—”

He didn’t get to finish because Blade walked back into the room.

“Lilly says hi.” Blade nodded at Stitch. “She was really sorry to hear about Soraya.”

Sloane slipped the sling back on.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

If Blade noticed the tension in the room, he didn’t comment on it.

“So, you gonna fill me in on this lead?” Blade asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Stitch leaned against the dresser. “Yeah. My contact said a guy matching Jeremy’s description was spotted at the basement bar in the Serena Hotel. It’s a hidden expat bar. He drinks there several times a week.”

“Are you sure it’s him?” Sloane asked.

“Yeah, I showed him that photograph I took at the graveyard.”

“He didn’t tell me his last name.” She frowned. “Not even his fake last name.”

“Yeah, that’s the name he’s travelling on. He obviously has fake identity documents too, probably issued by the Agency.”

Sloane shook her head. Obviously, she was important enough to know those kinds of details.

“I’m guessing he didn’t want you to know his full name so you couldn’t track him,” Stitch explained. “Hotel bookings, flights, and so on.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

So much deception. She really wasn’t cut out for this spy stuff.

“When are we going to check out the bar?” she asked.

A look passed between Stitch and Blade—just a flicker of an eyelid, something subtle, but she picked up on it.

“What?” she asked.

Blade looked a little surprised, but Stitch grinned.

“She’s good at reading people,” Stitch said. “Knows what you’re thinking before you do. Not much gets past her.”

Blade raised his eyebrows. “Nice skill to have.”

“I guess it is,” Sloane replied. “But it kind of ruins the fun when you see everything coming.”

Blade chuckled. “I can see that.”

Except last night. She hadn’t seen that coming—his gentle words, his protective tone.

I’ll never let anything happen to you.

She’d wanted to believe he was talking to her. She’d wanted to believe it was real.

And that kiss…

Yeah, she definitely hadn’t expected that.

“We’ve got an idea we want to run by you,” Stitch said, his eyes on her.

Blade pursed his lips. “His idea, but it’s a good one.”

“Okay.” She felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

Stitch continued. “When we find Jeremy, we need to distract him long enough to download everything off his phone.”

Blade held up a small USB-like device.

“This plugs into his phone and downloads the data,” Stitch explained. “It only takes a few seconds, but we need him distracted.”

“And that’s where you come in,” Blade added.

“Me?”

Wasn’t she supposed to be laying low? And wasn’t Jeremy the one who’d tried to have her killed?

“What better way to shock Jeremy than you showing up out of nowhere?”

“I don’t get it.” The nervous flutter turned into an all-round bad feeling.

“Well, what if you confronted him, like you were looking for him?” Stitch said. “He is your handler, after all. You got shot, so naturally you’d want answers from him.”

“If he wasn’t a corrupt piece of crap, you mean?”

Stitch grinned. “Exactly.”

She looked from Stitch to Blade. They both had that smug look, like they’d already made up their minds. This was happening whether she liked it or not. They were easier to read than a kid’s book.

“You want me to confront him at the bar?” she asked, shaking her head. “Am I supposed to just walk up to him and be like, ‘Hey Jeremy, remember me? You tried to have me killed?’”

“Something like that,” Stitch mumbled.

Blade tried—and failed—to hide a smile.

She crossed her arms. “Well, you’re right about one thing, it would shock the hell out of him.”

“That’s the point,” Stitch said.

“We’d only need a minute, tops.” Blade nodded toward the device. “It works fast.”

“He’ll know I’m here,” she warned.

They both nodded.

“He might try to kill me again.”

Another look passed between them, this one more obvious.

“Yeah, it’s possible,” Stitch admitted. “But if we want to bring these guys down, we need evidence. His phone is a burner, but it might have messages or numbers that can help us track the others.”

“Or use it against him in court,” Blade added.

She thought it over. They were right. Even if they stopped the drug shipment, they still wouldn’t have anything solid on Jeremy or Matthew.

Heat rose in her chest as she thought about Matthew.

He’d seduced her, convinced her to join his shady CIA unit, and then sent her off to die. Had he known all along she wasn’t coming back? Was the whole no-contact rule just a way for him to remain unaccountable?

Asshole.

“If you don’t want to, we’ll figure something else out,” Stitch said. “I get it if you’re nervous. You did just get shot.”

Anger coursed through her veins. No way. Jeremy and Matthew were going down, and if this was going to help it happen, she was in.

“I’ll do it,” she said firmly.

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Blade slapped his thigh. “Great, we’re on!”

Stitch grinned, and she saw something like pride in his eyes. “I knew you’d say yes.”

Her heart did a teeny-tiny flip. Would she ever stop wanting him?