Smoke and Shadows (34 page)

Jack leaned in closer and snarled, “My wife. You have no idea of the rage I felt when I thought you had killed her. Or the agony I went through seeing her hooked up to those machines and knowing that she had lost our child because of one senseless act of revenge.”

“So your answer is also revenge?” Stuart challenged.

“Yes. An eye for an eye and all that. The difference between you and me, I don’t let others do the job. Revenge is personal. And if you don’t have the grit to get your hands dirty, don’t do it at all. Besides, the world is a better place without scum like you. I’m considering this my patriotic duty.” Jack’s hand shot out and jabbed Stuart in the throat causing him to choke, gasp for air, and fall across the seat.

“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” Jack growled, stepping out of the car and pushing the button to lock it. He strode to the front of the car, popped the limo’s hood, took a device out of his coat, and fixed it to the battery.

He heard Stuart screaming and pounding on the limousine door. Unfortunately for Stuart, the paranoia of having bullet-proof glass also made it harder to break. Jack walked away. And with grim finality, he pulled out the trigger and pushed the button.
 

The blast shook the ground. Small pieces of debris flew past him, and the shockwave ruffled the air around him. He paused to look back at the inferno. It was done. Stuart Kwon was dead.

A car pulled up in front of him. In the driver’s seat was Erik Costa, who had become a good friend of the McCords after the daring rescue of Maia and some Guardians. He’d always been a freedom fighter, and when he found out what had happened to Maia, he offered his assistance and his extensive Russian network in any way needed. That was how they were able to get the jump on Kwon’s security team.

“Another POS down, huh?” Erik said as Jack got into the passenger seat. Erik turned the car to head out of Moscow to a private airfield where a chartered plane was waiting for Jack. When they were at a respectable distance from the explosion, Erik handed him his phone.

“Call her. She’s worried.”

She answered on the first ring.

“Jack?”

“It’s done, babe.”

“Good. Come home.”

“On my way.”

Ending the call, Jack finally felt the release of the vestiges of the darkness that had lingered since the whole incident started.

The desire to protect Maia was there at every turn.
 

It would never go away.

*****

Four weeks later

Marissa lined her suitcases in the living room and looked around her row house wistfully. She was going to miss this place, at least for a while. She had buried herself in work, television, and tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while she examined her discordant feelings regarding Viktor. She knew her way back to him was distancing herself from the source of her turmoil, which in this case, was also Viktor. She needed to work through her issues on her own to gain some perspective and bearing. He took a choice away from her, but this was Viktor—the forceful, overly dominant man who loved her. And she loved him for being who he was. And when Marissa finally wrapped her mind around his mortality, she managed to climb out of her emotional quagmire. He was just a man, he wasn’t invincible. Oh, she was still conflicted, but hating him for etching that horrific picture of him dying in her brain, slowly diminished with the almost daily reports of his recovery.
 

Before she had disappeared from his life, she had talked to Maia, making the Guardian promise to let her know how Viktor was coping. After two weeks, Maia had grumbled that Marissa better come back soon because now that Viktor had regained his voice, he’d been cutting and bullying everyone around him.

And Marissa promised. But what she didn’t anticipate was that as one week rolled into another, her courage to face Viktor started crumbling. He saved her life and she left him. It was surprising no one despised her. However, Maia assured her if she didn’t pull her head out of her ass soon, the redhead was going to come over and kick her in the butt.

So Marissa did the one thing she was good at: running. She had accepted a six-month assignment in Morocco. Even Yeager didn’t want to sign off on it, but he finally gave in, thinking that she truly needed to get away from it all. Allison was furious at her, but she would still be her analyst. And there was that fallout from Kwon’s assassination. The agency had been under investigation for allegations of taking an unsanctioned hit on a Russian citizen. In the end, there was no proof and it was deemed an internal Russian problem with organized crime. From a political standpoint, it would be best if the team lead on Kwon’s case—her—removed herself from the crosshairs of the Senate Oversight Committee. That had been her excuse for taking the Morocco mission, although Yeager, not one to play politics, would have defended her against the suits in Washington.
 

There was a rap on the door. Her taxi was a few minutes early. And did no one use the doorbell anymore?

Looking through the peep hole, all the blood left her face. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the locks and opened the door.

Viktor stood before her. A bit thinner, but still larger than life.

“What are you doing here?” she squeaked.

“Is that how you greet the man who saved your life?”

There was cold sarcasm in his voice. She flinched. Emotions of guilt and indignation churned in her gut.
 

“Are you going to invite me in?”

Still not uttering a word, Marissa stepped aside. Viktor briskly walked past her and stood in the middle of her living room, scowling at the suitcases.

“I don’t have much time to talk,” Marissa said after she finally found her voice.

“Leaving for Morocco, I hear.”

“Yeager told you?”

“Who else?”

Marissa decided to change the subject. “How are you doing, Viktor? How’s therapy?”

“As if you care,” he sneered.

“Look, I may have stayed away,” Marissa said desperately. The last thing she wanted was for Viktor to think that she didn’t care for him. “But Maia kept me informed of your progress.”

“I know. She told me,” Viktor said.
 

“You weren’t supposed to know.”
 

“Maia was afraid I’d become a soulless bastard again, and made sure that I knew that you gave a damn about me.” He snorted with a trace of bitterness. “Though I really wonder.”

“I still love you,” Marissa whispered huskily.

Viktor’s face contorted in pain and he swiftly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her shoulders, looking at her with a mixture of anger and something else. “Then why didn’t you come back? You fucking swore, Marissa. That’s why I waited for you to come to terms with what I did.” His voice turned hoarse. “And waited. Then I hear from Yeager that you took a six-month assignment in Morocco.”

When Marissa didn’t say anything, he shook her gently, his eyes pleading. “Will you ever get past what I did? What you said about me not loving you enough and putting you through the agony of watching me die made me look real hard into myself. I can say without any doubt, that I did it because I couldn’t live without you. The chances of me surviving were better, so I boosted yours with the atropine. I’m too stubborn to die on you, Marissa. Come back to me, kitten.”

The doorbell rang.

“That’s the taxi,” Marissa took in a ragged breath. “I have to go. Your timing couldn’t be worse. I don’t hate you anymore, and I was meaning to come back to you. Hell, it only took me a week to realize how wrong I was, but I lost my nerve. I—I was too ashamed to face you.”

Viktor inclined his head, his face relaxed. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and strode to the door.
 

Wait. Was he just leaving
?
 

Marissa felt her temper flare.

She heard him tell the driver that his services were no longer required and handed him several bills.
 

Her temper hit the roof.

“What are you doing?” Marissa screeched. “You better have your car, Viktor, because you’ve just signed up to be my driver.”

“You’re not leaving for Morocco.”

“What? What?”

“I told Yeager to let the CIA station in Morocco know that you’ve changed your mind.”

Marissa was pretty sure her jaw hit the floor. Of all the arrogant, manipulative, autocratic . . . and yet she freaking loved the man.
 

He approached her warily. “I meant it when I said I would fight for you, even if the person I have to fight is you.” He sighed heavily. “I couldn’t let you leave.”

“So your answer is to make decisions for me again?”

“And why not?” he shot back, his jaw tensing. “You keep making the wrong ones. You let that stubborn head of yours get between us, and it’s getting aggravating.”

“I’ll show you how stubborn I am,” Marissa fired back. She pulled out her phone to call Yeager. Viktor grabbed her phone and threw it hard against the wall and it smashed into a thousand pieces—and put a dent in the plaster.

Marissa saw a haze of red. “That was my agency phone! You freaking caveman!” She pushed him aside and knelt by the fragmented pieces trying to figure out if she could put it back together.

Viktor was staring bemusedly at what he’d done and muttered, “Déjà vu.”

“What are you talking about?” Marissa replied irritably as she got up and faced him.

“The first time you left me? Eight years ago, I smashed my phone.” Viktor’s eyes had turned ink, almost feral. His face outlined by determination. “I let you go. Eight years of hell, Marissa. Not a single day has passed that my skin hasn’t burned for you.”

Marissa took a step back, her hand involuntarily clasping her throat. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m done,” he said. Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around her neck and pulled her closer. Their lips were almost touching, but he didn’t kiss her.
 

“You’re done?” Marissa whispered. “Done with me?”

He grinned, a grin that reminded her of a shark scenting blood. Was Viktor just going to snap her neck and put them out of their misery? “Oh, not done with you.”

She found herself boosted up against the credenza, her pencil skirt pushed all the way up revealing what she was wearing underneath. Viktor looked down and groaned, dropping his forehead against hers. “She’s wearing garters. God, help me.” His hands were running feverishly up and down her thighs.

Marissa noticed the growing bulge in his pants. “Um, are you sure every part of you is cleared for action?”

Viktor chuckled. “If you’re worried about the performance of my dick, let me assure you that it was the first part of my anatomy that regained mobility.”

“You serious?”
 

“Uh-huh. Couldn’t move my fingers much, but I tented my hospital gown every morning.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Damned embarrassing,” Viktor mumbled against her ear. His fingers fondled the center of her heat. “Besides, I need it right now.”

“We’re still talking about your penis, right?”
 

“Yes, Marissa,” Viktor said with amusement which quickly disappeared when a rush of moisture coated his fingers. A strangled grunt worked in his throat as his fingers ripped off the strip of silk.
 

Marissa found her own fingers working frantically on his belt buckle, his zipper, and then she eagerly pulled out his thick, long, pulsing cock; the tip already wet with pre-cum.
 

“I missed this,” she whispered as she worked a thumb over the silky flesh.

“All your fault,” Viktor grunted. He pulled her hips forward, half of her ass dangling in the air as he rocked against her, the head of his cock nudging maddeningly at the lips of her sex. “I’m done being patient. And you should know, no matter where you run—”

He plunged inside her, all the way to the hilt. She gasped, thrilled with the fullness that hit her.
 

“—I will find you, Marissa.” His eyes seared into her with his promise, a vow. And for the first time in months, she felt whole again. She wanted to sob at the completeness and rightness of it. She was done, too. Done running from him.

“I’m going to fuck the stubbornness out of you,” he said. “Pound it out of you, thrust by fucking thrust.”

He pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back inside her. Then the pumping began, going faster, harder, deeper. Marissa rode the wave as Viktor proved to her that he was a man of his word as he proceeded to fuck her into submission.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The cheering and catcalls erupted in the gymnasium just as Marissa, Olsen, and Maia stepped into the building. It was the MDI corporate games, and for this event, AGS was invited to compete and Marissa joined as an honorary player. The women had just finished the track competition. Marissa won handily. Maia was out of shape and Olsen wasn’t much of a runner. Jack’s personal assistant ran the race, but it was evident that she was doing it just for fun.

The men were squaring off in a basketball game. Team AGS was led by Viktor. On their team were Manning, Edmunds, Nathan, and one other Guardian who made up their starting five. Team MDI was, of course, led by Jack, alongside Derek and some of their design engineers. The crowd was mostly comprised of MDI employees and their families, but there were some Guardians also present.

Sophie spotted the women and waved them over. She was sitting right behind the MDI team’s bench. Derek’s wife begged off from any competition, citing that sports were not her thing. But if Marissa knew any better, she’d say Sophie just wanted to be her husband’s cheerleader.

“How’s the game going?” Marissa asked, sitting down beside Sophie and Nathan’s fiancée, Lucy Cortez.

Before the blonde could answer, Maia gasped. “Why is there blood on my husband’s shirt?”

Sophie’s lips twisted derisively. “Viktor has a twitchy elbow. The man is a menace on the court.”

Marissa suppressed a grin while Maia’s frown deepened.

“Don’t worry,” Sophie added. “Jack paid him back a couple of times. They’re both even with four fouls each,” she huffed. “The only guys who play fairly are Derek, Nathan, and the MDI design engineers. Edmunds is a sly one. And Manning has a hot temper—”