Carter: The Sinner Saints #1 (8 page)

“Lucas Addams?” The worm from the party. Carter remembered him well. “That was quick. I take it he didn’t leave with the congressman this morning.”

“No. It appears he’ll be staying in town to oversee the investigation of last night’s shooting,” Mason said.

“How convenient,” Carter mused.

“My thoughts exactly,” Mason agreed. “So, I did a little digging on Mr. Addams, and found out this isn’t his first job with Buck Fuller. He also worked closely with Fuller as a Threat Analyst with the Security Department at Allied Dynamics years ago.”

Lucas Addams’ job title might have changed, but Carter was willing to bet that his position wasn’t all that different. So, he was the reason that Fuller had remained bulletproof all these years. At least Carter finally understood why he’d disliked the man almost instantly.

“How close is Charlie on the flash drive?” Carter asked.

“She’s working on it. Seems Harvey Price was seriously paranoid. She’s having a hell of a time trying to crack the encryption.”

Was it still paranoia if the man’s fears were justified?

“Let me know the second she finds anything,” Carter, said.

“Sure thing,” Mason said. “How’s Miss Weaver doing?”

Carter slowly turned around to face Ally. A warm feeling spread through him at the sight of her curled up on the bed.

“She’s holding up.” The truth was, she was doing a hell of a lot better than that. She was tired and she was stressed, but she was far from broken. Not that he would have blamed her had she fallen to pieces. Carter had known lots of strong people who would have cracked under the strain of two attempts on their lives in as many days.

“She seems like a fighter,” Mason said.

Carter smiled. His friend didn’t know the half of it.

He must have stared at her for a second too long, because the next thing, Mason was saying his name. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I was just wondering what the plan was,” Mason said.

“Yeah, of course,” Carter said, shaking his head to clear it. “Basic recon on Fuller’s office. We need to know what Addams is up to next, and that means we need eyes and ears on the place.”

Carter turned back toward the window as he laid the rest of the plan out for Mason.

Chapter Seven

Ally was used to the harsh beep of an alarm clock shocking her out of sleep, so the experience of slowly rising out of the depths of slumber felt almost decadent.

She rolled her shoulders as her eyelids flickered open. She licked at her lips and wiggled her toes. They brushed against the satiny softness of the comforter beneath her.

Someone had slipped her shoes off while she was asleep.

Not someone.

Carter.

Ally reached her arms above her head as she sat up, stretching out her back. There was still daylight pouring in from the large window that ran across the front of the room, but she was incredibly well rested. She must have had one heck of a power nap.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced around the room for Carter. She found him just where she’d left him, right by the window.

He was sitting in a chair, reading a newspaper. There was a tray in front of him with what looked like a carafe of coffee. A tower of covered plates was on the table.

The bedclothes rustled as she kicked off the blanket, and he turned his head her way.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said, with a devastatingly handsome smile. Ally turned her head before he could see her blush.

She knew nothing had happened between them, but still, there was something so intimate about waking up in the same room. Under any other circumstances, she would have been upset that he’d only taken off her shoes.

“Hey,” she said, pulling her feet in to sit cross-legged on the mattress. She combed her fingers through her hair. At this point, she was scared to look in the mirror. “How long was I out?”

Carter looked down at his wrist. “About fifteen hours.”

“What?” Ally’s spine straightened instantly. She twisted around to look at the clock on the side table.

Sure enough, it read 9:03 a.m.

She hadn’t taken a nap. She’d slept clear through to the next morning.

And Carter had let her.

She threw her feet down on the floor. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Because you needed to sleep.” He shrugged as he turned the newspaper page.

The newspaper
.

Dear God. She had to make a phone call. Her editor had to be wondering what had happened to her.

After that she needed to call her parents. Ally would bet a thousand dollars that her mother had already heard the story of her house being involved in a shootout from half the neighbors on the street.

She might have forgotten about all her responsibilities in the blur of yesterday’s chaos, but this morning, she was going to have to take care of business.

Ally ran over to her purse and dug inside. When she didn’t feel the familiar shape of her phone, she upended the bag on the entryway table and the contents poured out. Her phone wasn’t one of them.

“My phone is gone,” she called out.

“I know.”

Ally spun around.

“How do you know?” she asked slowly.

“Because I took it.”

What the hell was it about this man? One second he had her blushing over his devilish smiles, and in the next instant, she wanted to kick him in the kneecaps. Maybe if he didn’t take such perverse pleasure in making her pry every last answer out of him, she would be able to keep her blood pressure under control. But as it was, she was quickly reaching her boiling point.

Still, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of another screaming fit—he always ended up laughing at her anyway—so she tiptoed behind his chair and pantomimed wrapping her hands around his neck and throttling the life out of him. It was strangely satisfying.

“I can see your reflection in the window, you know,” he said, folding the newspaper and putting it down by his side.

“I’ll stop if you tell me why you took my phone,” she said.

“I tossed it out the window near your parent’s house yesterday, but I should have done it earlier,” he said, leaning forward and filling an empty cup with coffee. “The GPS on cell phones are easy to track. I’m guessing it’s how Fuller’s men were able to follow us.”

Ally dropped her arms.

“Oh,” she said, feeling instantly deflated. “You should have told me.”

Ally walked around to the chair opposite Carter, and sat down.

He looked at her for a long moment before he slid over the mug of coffee. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I had other things on my mind.”

Ally’s eyes widened. She had the feeling that an apology from Carter Macmillan was a rare and precious thing. And this one came with a cup of coffee. Even better.

“I’m used to giving orders, not explaining them.”

Ally’s lips curled up in a smile. “I’ve never been any good at taking orders.”

His brow arched in mock surprise. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“The second someone tells me I
have
to do something, it instantly makes me want to do the exact opposite.”

“You’d make a terrible soldier,” he said, putting one of the plates down in front of her.

“Yeah, but it’s made me a pretty good journalist,” she said. “Might even make me a great one if I can survive to get this story published.”

“Something tells me you’ll be kicking around for a while, if for no other reason than Fuller doesn’t want you to,” Carter said. His warm brown eyes were locked on hers as he spoke, and she saw all kinds of emotions flash through them—amusement, pride, something that looked a hell of a lot like desire.

But it couldn’t be. She’d just woken up from nearly a full day of sleep. She hadn’t showered in almost two. And she was wearing a sweatshirt with holes in the neckline. There was no way the ex-Special Forces guy with his finely tailored suit and rock hard body was into her. No way in hell.

“That’s the hope,” Ally said, looking down at the plate in front of her. He pulled off the metal cover and revealed eggs and potatoes and toast. “Wow. You ordered breakfast.”

“I figured you’d be hungry. You didn’t have a chance to eat anything other than a muffin yesterday. I plan on making up for that today.”

“Thank you,” she said, nervously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The mood had changed. Even though the room was large and airy, the space between them felt small and intimate. “I can’t remember the last time someone bought me breakfast,” she said, hoping a little small talk would distract her.

Carter’s brows arched as he leaned forward an inch in his seat. “What a shame.”

Ally put down the coffee cup. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I get it,” he said, picking up his own fork and taking a bite. “There are plenty of guys, just no one sticks around until morning.”

“I never said—”

“I’ve never had that problem myself.” His head was ducked down, but Ally still caught the teasing curve to his smile. “I’ve always had trouble getting them to leave.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real problem to me,” she shot back.

“I’m just glad I can finally talk to someone who understands,” he said. “It drives me crazy.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“Except for this one girl, she runs from me all the time,” he said between bites. “Try to make my move at a party, and—poof—she’s gone. Turn my back on her for one second while walking her to her car, and she just disappears.”

Ally leaned back in her chair, giving him a triumphant smile. “That must have been rough on your ego.”

“I don’t know. I think it ended up okay.” He glanced at her, his honey-colored eyes locking with hers. “I managed to get her to spend the night in my hotel room, after all.”

Heat was pouring into her cheeks now, and the harder she tried to stop it, the harder it burned. It was absurd. A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. Then another. And another.

What the hell was going on? A minute ago, she wanted to strangle the man, but now…now, she was picturing something entirely different that she’d like to do with him.

It was just the stress. It had to be. The stress, and the pressure…and the almost irresistible sight of a day’s worth of stubble lining his jaw. How would it feel grazing across her cheek? Her neck? Her—

Ally tried to shake the images from her head.

“I like it when you laugh,” he said after a long moment had passed.

Ally shrugged easily, even though the casual confession affected her more than she wanted to admit. “You’re pretty funny when you want to be.”

“There are those who would disagree with you,” he said cryptically.

She was about to ask who when a text alarm chirped. Ally started a little at the unexpected sound. Her brows pulled together as Carter pulled a phone from his pocket. He checked the screen, typed something back and slid it back into his jacket.

Ally realized she must have been glaring at him, because he widened his eyes as he looked back up at her.

“What?” he asked.

“Why do you get a phone?”

“Because it’s not an ordinary phone.” Carter held up the phone pinched between his finger and thumb. “The signal is run through a private satellite. It can’t be tracked through regular cell towers.”

Fresh hope rushed through Ally. She scooted forward in the chair. “So, I can call my work with it?”

Carter shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because while this line is secure, the Gazette’s are not. We have to assume that Fuller’s men are monitoring every call that goes in and out of that building to look for you.”

Ally’s face fell, as the brief flash of hope left her. “I guess that means I can’t call my parents either.”

Carter gave her a long sympathetic look. “I know it’s hard, Ally, but the fewer people you have contact with, the safer everyone will be.” He stretched his hand out across the table. “This will all be over soon.”

Ally didn’t think too hard about sliding her hand into his before she did it. He was offering comfort, and she needed some. It was as simple as that.

His fingers curled around her palm. He slid his other hand over the top. His skin felt warm on hers. Ally almost believed that she could feel some of his strength infusing into her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere.

Ally shook her head. No matter how tempting it was to lay the blame for her predicament on someone else, it wouldn’t be honest.

“Don’t be,” she said. “I knew what I was getting myself into by taking on Fuller.”

“But you did it anyway.” There was a note of admiration in his voice. For some reason she wasn’t expecting that. Admonishment, maybe. Confusion, certainly.

That’s what she was used to getting from people like her parents, her siblings, and her friends. She understood their reasons. They wanted her to be safe. It was what most people wanted for their loved ones. That was why Ally never resented their concerns.

But she could never agree with them.

“Once Harvey called me there was no other choice,” she said. “Whatever Fuller is doing, someone has to expose him.”

Carter slowly sat back. His fingers caressed the top of her hand as they slid away. Suddenly Ally wanted them back. The room was warm, but her hands felt strangely cold without his touch.

“Why did he come to you?” Carter asked.

“He read a piece I did on city corruption out in Prospect Canyon. All the other journalists gave up after the mayor lawyered up, but I thought there might be something there, so I kept digging.”

“And there was something,” Carter said, folding his hands in his lap.

“There was,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I followed the money trail, and it led right back to the mayor. I was the only one that didn’t back down.”

“So you think that whatever we find on Harvey Price’s drive will come back to money?” he asked.

Ally shrugged. “It almost always does. It’s why most people do anything.”

“Not you,” he said with a wry smile. “You’re out here risking your neck while driving around the world’s oldest Toyota Camry.”

“Well, I’m a freak,” she said. She finished off the last bite of her breakfast and then pulled her legs up on to the chair. It was a comfy position—not one she’d take in front of just anyone, but she was quickly coming to understand that Carter was hardly just anyone. “I’ve always valued the truth over fancy things.”

“That’s noble.”

“Most of the time it’s just foolish,” she said honestly. “Especially when it’s the first of the month and the rent is due.”

Carter chuckled.

“I’m guessing that’s not a problem that you’ve ever had,” she said, leaning forward and grabbed her coffee cup. She wrapped both of her hands around it. The coffee was hot, but it was nothing like the warmth that she felt in Carter’s hands.

“You might be surprised,” he said.

“Really, Mr. Black AMEX?”

“That’s not me,” he said, bringing his arms up and lacing his fingers behind his neck. It appeared that she wasn’t the only one that was getting comfortable. “That’s Sean Ward.”