Burned: Black Cipher Files #3 (Black Cipher Files series) (30 page)

They needed to move on. And it wouldn’t do to be on the phone for too long. “Any chance they’re tracking Lucas’s phone?”

“Doubtful,” Jamie said. She tended to turn her paperwork in as late as possible. They shouldn’t have too much on Lucas. As far as he knew the only people who knew about Lucas and Jamie were Zeke, Jordan Ramirez, Staci Grant, and Carson. And Jamie’s sister, Bella.

“So, any ideas on the favor?” What he’d started with before she got off track.

“Why a lab?”

“Sunshine has an idea.” Zeke knew she was right. At the very least the analysis would be another piece of evidence to refute that he gave his program to Susan Chen and her partner. “But we need a lab with an EEG machine.”

Jamie started laughing. “Well, I supposed Barb might be able to help you out.”

Zeke had no idea who Barb was or why that was so funny.

“Where is she located?”

“Outside of San Francisco.” Jamie whispered something unintelligible to Lucas.

Patterns. Zeke kept seeing patterns that created bigger pictures. And every thread was leading them toward San Francisco. And he couldn’t help but think that everything and everyone was converging in San Francisco for a reason.

Sunshine’s experiment was a worth a shot.

“Give me her number?”

“I’ll let Lucas do the honors.” Jamie inhaled, let it out slowly. “Be safe.”

Again that hidden bit of affection was there.

“You know it.”

“We need to keep our conversations to a minimum,” Jamie said quietly.

Zeke agreed. “I don’t want any blowback on you.”

“It’s not that. But it wouldn’t surprise me if they are tracking my movements again.”

“How?” They’d eliminated all of Jamie’s tracking devices when she was on the run from Susan Chen and her partner.

“Cell likely.” Jamie said sneakily, “It’s a good thing I’m right where I said I would be.”

“Any word from Carson?” Zeke couldn’t help it. He was feeling a little abandoned by his former mentor.

“He’s on his way out.”

“Out here?”

“Yeah. He wants to question Oliver. Because…how the hell did he get back in the country?”

Zeke would like to know too.

“We’re keeping this extremely on the DL.” Jamie confessed. “There are too many hanging threads and outstanding questions that don’t form a cohesive picture about this entire situation.”

“I didn’t do it.” Zeke wanted to make sure she knew that. That she heard it from his own mouth.

Jamie didn’t even hesitate. “I know that.”

“How?”

“You don’t have the subterfuge gene,” Jamie replied. “And I mean that in a good way. You risked your career to help me when the evidence pointed another way. I want to return the favor.”

A lump grew in his throat. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. Enough mushy shit.” Jamie handed the phone to Lucas and he gave Zeke the phone number for his friend Barb and instructions on how to introduce himself. Then they signed off quickly.

Zeke pressed end on the burner. It was time to get rid of this number. With efficient movements, he popped the SIM card and any other identifying pieces of the phone.

Then he headed downstairs, checked the path through to the kitchen, making sure there was no one on the beach before he scooted across the exposed area and into the laundry room. He found a tool box with the requisite hammer and smashed the phone, and the SIM card, into bits. Then he scooped up the pieces and dumped them into a baggie and put it in the trash.

“What’s going on?” Sunshine stood hesitantly behind him, clearly intuiting his mood.

He and Sunshine needed a nap. Because later on they were hitting the road.

“We’re on the move tonight.” Zeke crossed his arms over his chest. “A little after midnight.”

“Where are we going?”

“San Francisco.”

“But that’s where my mother is.”

“It’s where everything is.” Zeke still couldn’t see the pattern but he knew it existed. He clenched his fists in annoyance. If he still had the drug coursing through him he could see the pattern and the answer.

Thirty-Five

I hated the idea of going anywhere near my mother.

The ceiling fan was still, and the air in the kitchen was stifling. A stray beam of light speared through the dust motes and cast his face in sinister shadows.

The veins in his tanned forearms had popped when he crossed his arms over his chest. Something about that light altered his normal happy-go-lucky expression into a discontent mask. As if he’d hit the wall and was done being a nice guy.

His cheekbones were harsh angles, and his hooded eyes were dark with secrets. A visceral thrill shimmied over my spine at his intensity.

“We can’t leave now?”

“Under cover of darkness we’ll leave.”

“I…guess we should get some rest.” My breath caught. I didn’t want to rest. I wanted all that intense awareness on me.

“We should.” He stalked toward me, his chin lowered as he gobbled me up with his stare. The powerful regard was like a physical caress. “But we aren’t going to.”

The air simmered with unspoken promise.

“What are we going to do?” I didn’t even sound like myself. My voice was breathy and demanding, as I waited for him to tell me what I wanted to hear.

He yanked open the drawer and grabbed the box of condoms. Then Zeke seized my hand. His rougher, callused fingertips slid along my palm and threaded our fingers together. Without a word he tugged me toward the loft.

Hours later, I lay naked, entwined his muscular arms and surrounded by his heat. The embrace should have been pleasing, but the way he curved around me felt more like possession than comfort.

His erection prodded my butt, and I wondered how he could possibly be ready to go again. The hard length of him was like a brand against my skin. He cupped my breast with his palm and squeezed gently. That little bite of pain pulsed low in my belly. And even though I was sore, I was game.

I tried to roll over, but he wouldn’t let me. “Not this time,” he growled against the shell of my ear. The puff of breath tingled through me. And my heartbeat quickened when he wouldn’t let me move.

Zeke slung his leg over my thighs, pinning me in place as he pressed wet open-mouthed kisses down my spine. The combination of his burning skin and the cool suction of his mouth was an interesting dichotomy that ramped up my arousal. That and being held in place as he rolled me on to my stomach.

In one fist he gripped my hair and turned my head for his kiss as his other hand slid down the center of my body and his fingers found the nest of curls guarding my sex. I tried to lift my hips but he held me in place while his middle finger rubbed my clit in little circles, playing with me, before he plunged his finger inside.

He groaned against my mouth. “So fucking wet.”

His cock throbbed against my hip even as I tried in vain to move. The combination of his hand moving inside me, rubbing against my slit, pressing into me, while his tongue thrust in my mouth was dizzying.

He broke away from our kiss. “How sore are you?”

“Not that sore.”

And oh my Goddess he did something with his fingers, pinching my clit as he rubbed and thrust. “Let me move.”

“After.” He nipped my shoulder, then sucked the spot hard.

My hands were under my head so I was basically helpless against his explorations. I wanted to touch him. But he refused to let me up.

My sex wept with arousal as he continued to slide his fingers in and out, each time he curled them and tapped while he held me captive.

My orgasm was building, each thrust, tap, kiss pushing me to a new high. I trembled with an excess of energy and no way to release it. If I could just move. The sensation of being trapped should have made me panic but I trusted him. Trusted him to take care of me. Trusted him to not hurt me. Just…trusted him.

I trusted him. In a moment of pure physical sensation, I tumbled over that edge. I began to convulse around his fingers, but he pulled them from me and quickly rolled on a condom. I cried out, bereft at the loss of him, the sound shocking in the quiet stillness of the loft.

I convulsed around nothing. Empty and unfulfilled.

In an athletic move, he lifted my hips and slid his cock all the way to the hilt. My fingers were bunched around the sheets at my head. As he knelt between my spread thighs, Zeke paused, held himself still. His thick hard rod filled me, the sensations on the edge of uncomfortable. But then other impressions registered. His balls swollen and snug against my sex, his palms spreading me wide, and the hair of his thighs brushing against my softer inner thighs. He grabbed my hips with his hands, the gesture primitive and demanding.

And then he started to move.

His movements slow, he rocked back and forth. And all the sensations from my overstimulated body began to build again.

On all fours, I began to push back against his thrusts. Hard. Every time he pounded into me he rolled over that spot, tension escalated as we hammered against each other.

His fingers tightened on my hips digging in so fiercely, I’d likely have bruises. And I didn’t care. I slammed back against him, reaching, reaching for another high. With each thrust he hit my cervix, rubbed his head against my g-spot, pulled out until the head of his cock caressed my clit. He was pushing and prodding every one of my erogenous zones and my head was swimming and my body began to shake. The sensations, the bombardment was too much for my system.

I could feel him inside me, swelling impossibly larger. “Fuck, Sunshine.”

He was going to come.

“Not without you,” he gutted out.

Zeke reached around with one hand and lightly tapped on my clit. It was as if he’d hooked up a live wire to my sex and my orgasm hit like a supernova. Sparks, eruptions, explosions tore my body apart from the inside as I milked him so hard, I saw stars.

My blood gathered in my belly, and drained every other sense from me, as we continued to pound against each other.

I could feel the force of his ejaculation against my inner walls, sheathing him tight as he came, and came, and came.

Zeke brushed the hair from the back of my neck and gave me a hard kiss. Shivers cascaded through me as I floated down from the sexual high.

Zeke curled his arm around my tummy, the hair from his forearm brushed against me, and another burst of adrenaline shimmied over my skin.

He was still buried deep inside me, his belly snugged up against my ass, his arms curled around my waist. A sense of safety and peace flowed over me. Which was crazy since we were about to embark on the most dangerous journey of my life.

***

October 22

5:00 am

Livermore, CA

Hours later we pulled into a parking lot in Livermore, a suburb outside of San Francisco. We’d taken the Toyota Camry parked in the garage after we found a set of keys in the kitchen pantry. We left our stolen Honda, with some cash for the owner’s trouble, at a Best Western, one in a string of hotels along Moonstone Beach.

Instead of taking the highway to head north, we’d meandered through back roads, up and down mountain roads, through valleys, and along the ocean. At one point we hadn’t seen a car in three hours, because no one was driving at that time of the night.

Now we were positioned at the end of a deserted row in the parking lot as far from the security lights, but as close to the door, as possible.

We were supposed to meet Zeke’s friend’s friend at an Urgent Care clinic location. Only one other car, a bright red Tesla, was parked near the door.

“Are you sure about this?” I was nervous about meeting this woman. We didn’t know anything about her.

Zeke rubbed his palm over the fuzz on his head. “Jamie vouched for her.”

I was beginning to hate this Jamie chick. What made him trust her so easily? “And who exactly is Jamie?”

Zeke replied, “A friend. A good friend.”

“How good a friend?”

Zeke smiled and lifted my fist to his lips. “Not as good as you.”

Okay, then. We sat in silence in the stolen Toyota and studied the single door to the clinic.

“You told her what to bring?” Nervous energy coursed through me.

Zeke had set up the meeting, told Barb what they needed to do a rough approximation of the experiment. Supposedly she had somehow gotten access to the equipment at the closed clinic. And the Sodium Pentothal.

While we waited, Zeke seemed almost as reluctant as I felt, and the atmosphere in the small car thickened. Finally Zeke pressed the car keys into my hand. “If something goes wrong, get the hell out.” He curled my fingers over the sharp edge of the keys.

“What?” I tried to shove the keys back at him but Zeke refused to take them.

“Keep them.” He yanked open his car door.

“You want me to just leave.” It wasn’t a question.

Zeke blinked, his pale lashes crescents against his tan cheeks, then deliberately glanced away. “Yes. Find your mom and Blue.”

“Abandon you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m in some really deep shit here.” He propped his fists on his hips. “And I don’t want you caught in the crossfire if it all goes to hell.”

I knew he was trying to protect me but I was still mad. “I’m not running again,” I declared.

A light flashed on in the back window of the clinic. “We’ve got to go.”

“Fine.” I stomped toward the clinic door. The hiking shoes were unfamiliar and clunky on my feet. I usually wore loose flowing skirts and sweaters and no bra. The khaki shorts, long-sleeved gray Henley, heavy hiking boots, and my pretty pink bra took me out of my regular habits and the effect was somewhat startling. I thought I looked pretty good but I still felt a little weird and bundled up.

Zeke strode toward the clinic, subtly placing his body in front of mine.

“You think there’s something to be worried about?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His words beat like a drum inside my brain, the message pounding against my skull. He was protecting me. Before I could really process what his actions meant, the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen opened the door and gestured us inside. “Hurry.”