Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1) (12 page)

There were kids to save and people to kill.

He cupped her cheek and forced her back even though she growled as she looked up at him, her lips swollen from the small nips he’d given. “We have to gear up if we’re going for the kid. The clothes will be here soon, and then we need to leave. Scarpa is going to be very unhappy with me in a few hours when he checks in again.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we sure as hell won’t be here. We’ll need to avoid this house until I have it all figured out.” His cock slid from her and he mourned the loss of her slick heat.

Camille leaned back on her hands, giving him a doubting look. “And where do you plan on all of us going since we’ll be plus one kidnapped fourteen year old? The local Ritz tends to frown on people screaming for help, or being hauled out of a trunk in their parking lot.”

“I’ll handle it,” he growled at her, stepping out from between her legs to shove his pants the rest of the way off. He needed a shower.

“No, I’ll handle it.” She leaned over and picked up Tony’s phone, tilting it. “This is mine now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do what I do.” Camille winked and hopped off the counter, the insides of her thighs shiny as she walked out of the bathroom.

“Don’t answer that phone, or the door if the clothes arrive - and don’t kill anyone!” He called after her as he flipped the water on.

“Hypocrite!” She yelled back and he couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter Seven

Camille didn’t have a ton of numbers memorized, but she did have the important ones. After all, when you might need to drop your cell phone down a garbage disposal at any moment it was useful to be able to recover somehow.

Nighthawk was almost always her first call – as ridiculous as his chosen code name was.

The phone trilled in her ear as she lay out across Mateo’s bed, using his sheet to clean up the mess between her thighs.
Fuck
he had been hot fingering her while he bluntly told Scarpa what he’d done. He was so cocky, and confident, and -

“South Abrams Floral and Décor, how can I help you?”

“Hey Nighthawk, it’s C.” She grinned as he started laughing.

“Well, hello, princess! How’s my favorite Barbie doing today?”

“Fuck you very much, I’m doing fine. You remember that kid’s address I had you track down?” She heard him mumble an acknowledgement. “I need you to text it to this number.”

“What do I get out of it?” He asked, but she could already hear him typing. Nighthawk would give her the address after a bit of negotiating. She’d already paid him for the data once, but nothing was ever free.

“What do you want, nerd boy?”

“Nerd boy? You wish you knew me, Barbie.” He laughed, the sounds of his typing increasing in speed while she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I do? Why don’t you meet me for a drink and call me Barbie to my face?”

“I like having all of my arteries intact, that’s why.” The playful edge of his voice had been dulled by his nerves, but this was how all their calls went. He flirted with her, baited her, but whenever she suggested they meet up in person he backed down. Camille was pretty sure he was the kind of guy that lived in his mom’s basement, although how he had stumbled into her world she wasn’t sure. Nighthawk was an enigma, but he was a wizard with computers and for that she didn’t ask questions.

“Alright, but you know I could rock your world.” She grinned and he laughed, once again playful.

“I’m sure you would, I just may not survive the experience.” A sharp tap came from his end of the phone and he sighed. “Alright, I’ve got the address, but I’m going to need a favor.”

Camille winced, thinking over her bank accounts for a moment to figure out exactly what she could agree to. “Well, before you add up my bill, there’s one more thing I need.”

“What’s that?”

“A safe house. I need a place to crash for a few days, maybe a week. A place that’s off everyone’s radar.” The words fell into empty air on the line and she could almost feel Nighthawk weighing the risks and rewards.

“You mean off Callahan’s radar.”

“Him too, but I’d prefer if no one knew where I was.” After all, Scarpa was about to be a problem too.

“Does this have anything to do with you not showing up back at your hotel last night, C?” Nighthawk’s calm question made her heart skip a beat.

“What do you mean?”

He laughed softly. “Did you really think Callahan didn’t have someone watching you there? He stalks you worse than I do.”

“Dammit, why didn’t you tell me?” Camille growled the words out, but he didn’t seem flustered.

“You weren’t paying me to tell you who all is tracking you, and I figured you knew. Either way, you don’t need to tell me what’s going on, but I just gave you that little fact for free. I can get you a safe house too, but I’m going to need something big.”

“What?” Her chest tightened, too distracted by the idea that Callahan already knew something was up to even worry about how much money he’d ask for.

“I’ve got a guy who decided my intel wasn’t worth what I charged. The other half of the payment never arrived and he disappeared into the wind, but I found him – of course – and he’s holed up in a hotel. I also happen to know he likes pretty little blondes.” Nighthawk’s voice was low and serious and he suddenly didn’t seem so out of place in their world. Maybe the nervous virgin act he put on with her really
was
just an act.

“Want me to scare him or kill him?”

“I don’t need the money.” Nighthawk signed the man’s death warrant without even a stutter in his voice, and Camille shrugged.

“Alright, I’ll reach out to you tomorrow for the details and I’ll take care of it. Are we good?”

“C, if you kill
him
, I’ll still owe you one.” Nighthawk laughed as she heard a ding on her end of the phone, and then another. “You’ve got the kid’s address and the address for a safe house. Make sure you don’t leave a big mess, cool?”

“Deal. Talk soon.”

“Later, Barbie.” The phone clicked off and she pressed her arm over her eyes. If Nighthawk thought he’d still owe her a favor after this guy died he was not going to be an easy mark.

“Fuck…” she cursed to herself and sat back up, watching through the doors as Mateo stood in all his glory drying off in front of the mirror. The man was built, broad with hard muscle, and every golden inch of him looked good enough to eat. He turned towards her, rubbing the towel in his hair for a second before he let it dangle at his side, not even trying to cover himself.

“Well?”

“I have the kid’s address and a safe house secured for us to take him to.” She grinned at the impressed look he gave her.

“Nice. That was quick.”

“I’ve got friends in low places.” With a wink she pushed herself off the bed and shrugged. “No calls came in, and no one has delivered clothing.”

“Did you kill anyone?” He raised an eyebrow and she bit her lip, watching as his eyes traced her mouth.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Well… she had
agreed
to kill someone, they just weren’t dead. Yet.

“Minx.” Mateo tilted his head towards his closet on the other side of the bathroom. “Go ahead and pick something out so you’re not cold, we can pick out a dainty little gun for you while we wait.”

“Don’t push me, Mateo, I might still shoot you.” She brushed past him and he chuckled, turning to smack her ass.

“You didn’t try to get the gun when I was sleeping, Camille. I think you’re going soft.”

“You’re the only one soft right now.” She looked over her shoulder, pointedly staring at his dick, but he just laughed and flipped her off.

A half hour later Camille was dressed in the clothes he’d bought, and somehow they fit her. A dark skirt that stopped just above her knee, black patterned tights, and a fresh top in a blue color that he had thought matched her eyes. The matching bra and panty set also fit perfectly, but he had cheated by looking at the tag on the ones she’d left upstairs. It had been disappointing to watch her get dressed again, especially when she strapped knives high on each thigh and a gun to the small of her back.

Beautiful and deadly, like most things in nature that were pretty. All those bright patterns and colors were meant to ward off predators, but all she did was draw him in.

He was in over his head with Camille and he knew it. The fact that he was loading twin forty-fives with bullets and sliding extra clips into his pockets to make sure he could protect her was proof enough, but it was the way she smiled at him as she slid on her boots that really sealed it. A warm rush raced through his chest, as if her smile alone could turn on his emotions like a switch leaving him desperate for the next glance she’d cast his way.

No way was Scarpa getting his hands on her.

No one was going to touch her.

“Mateo?” Camille tilted her head, those blonde tresses slipping over her shoulder like a waterfall of gold. “You’re zoned out, what’s up?”

He shook himself, slamming the last clip home before he slid the gun into his shoulder holster. “Just thinking of how mad you’ll be if I have to knock the kid out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That won’t be necessary, if we leave soon we can catch him at home. His mom will be at her second job and I can go to the door and get him.”

“You know the kid’s schedule that well?”

“I spend more time than I should keeping track of him. I’ve always thought Callahan might kill him just for the hell of it, and I wanted to know if it happened.”

“So you could leave?”

“So I could slit his throat and
then
leave.” She ran her hands down the skirt, smoothing it, and the fact that the knives didn’t even leave a slight bump made his cock twitch in his pants.

“How were you planning to accomplish that?”

Camille grinned, her pink lips stretching slowly. “He’s always wanted me in his bed, he’s just been terrified of what I’d do to him if he were naked and unguarded, but I could seduce him in a minute.”

“I’m sure,” Mateo grumbled and turned away from her to snag a clean switchblade from his drawer of knives. The one he’d used on Tony was busy soaking in a bucket of bleach and water.

“What? Are you irritated by that?” She moved close to him and his hands itched to touch her. “Does it bother you to think about me climbing on top of Callah–”

He grabbed her and shoved her against his chest of drawers, his fingers digging into the flesh of her shoulders. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Her blue eyes flashed fire and he knew she liked this side of him, this violent side, and he loved not having to hide it.

“I don’t want to think of anyone touching you.
Especially
Callahan.” Mateo knew his voice held a growl in it, but he couldn’t suppress it. She made him feel primal, possessive, and he’d been around her only a little more than twenty-four hours.

“I can handle myself,” she whispered, and he felt a sharp prod high on his inner thigh. He looked down to see one of those pretty little knives angled dangerously close to his cock.

“You wouldn’t use that on me,” he spoke softly and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down. Reaching up he tugged it free and then leaned in to kiss her, but he didn’t rush it. This was exploring, memorizing the feel of her lips against his as if they had all the time in the world. She tasted like his toothpaste, but somehow she still smelled like
her
, even after using his soap. There was nothing more that he wanted than to take his time with her for once, to lick every inch of her and figure out every little noise he could draw out of her. To know her well enough to call them out on command – but they didn’t have time for that, and time wasn’t just running down for them, it was running down for the kid too. He ended the kiss with a simple press of his lips to hers, and when he backed off there was color in her cheeks and the knife dangled from her loose grip. “See?”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Her eyes searched his and he shrugged.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” With a grin he pressed his switchblade into her side a little and she twitched when she felt it. “But you’re not the only one good with a knife.”

“Dick.”

“I’m good with that too, doll face.” He laughed and she playfully shoved him back. They both tucked their knives away and then he walked them out to the car. The tarp he had stapled to the broken window was messy, as was the sheet he’d thrown across the floor to hide the blood on the tile, but both would work if someone decided to poke around. Once they were inside his car he flipped on the heated seats and he watched as she ran her hands over the dash.

“Nice car.”

“Much better view than you had your first time in it.” Mateo grinned when she flipped him off, and then they left. Using his phone they started navigating towards the kid’s house, and they filled the time with idle chatter. Favorite country they’d been to, favorite weapon, favorite knife, favorite restaurant in the world. Hers was in Milan, his was in France.

As he kept driving, all he could think about was how much he’d rather be driving her to an airport to charter a plane to either of those places. Sitting at a nice table waiting for the fourth course of a meal sounded a lot better than going up against one of the bigger monsters on the Eastern Seaboard – but she was tethered to Patrick Callahan with an iron chain that she wouldn’t let go of.

The car rolled to a stop and he hated having to park more than a building away from the kid’s. Not only was it too far for her to force a struggling teenager, but it meant he would draw attention if he moved towards them too quickly and he might spook the kid. “Let me go to the door with you.”