Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) (17 page)

Trace called on every ounce of patience he
had, but the hard glare from his friend wasn’t something to take lightly. Even
he knew that much. And the warning about Marissa had been delivered exactly as
Clay had intended. It was also highly unnecessary. At the moment, Trace didn’t
have time to deal with Clay’s well-intended interference. He just needed to talk
to Marissa so that they were on the same page.

Ultimately, although he didn’t care for
the implied threat, Trace understood Clay’s reasoning. Clay was a good friend
of Trace’s. They’d grown up together, graduated from high school together. Clay
knew him better than anyone else. Well, anyone except for Z. And what Clay was
referring to was immensely more personal than a mere job. But in Trace’s
opinion, what happened between him and Marissa didn’t involve anyone else.

Would he have thought the same thing a few
months ago? Before the unthinkable had happened? Before he’d allowed his
emotion to get the best of him, putting himself in a position that could’ve
cost him his life? No. Probably not.

But Trace knew the extent he would go to
in order to protect Marissa. And it had nothing to do with the fact she was
practically family. Because what he felt for her was nothing even remotely
close
to
sisterly. It all boiled down to … he would
lay down his own life to keep her safe.

Clay clearly didn’t understand that. Or
maybe he did and he just wanted to be an ass.

Yes, Trace was well aware of the fact
Marissa was attracted to him. It was one of the main reasons he’d kept his
distance from the woman at all costs. He had an unexplainable attraction to her,
as well, but knowing who he was and the danger he flirted with on a daily basis,
he damn sure didn’t want to pull sweet, innocent Marissa Trexler down that dark
and dirty path. After all, he wanted to protect her. At all costs.

Even from himself.

Nodding because he wasn’t sure he could
make a promise in words, Trace held Clay’s stare.

“Shit,” Clay said on an exhale.

Trace was thinking the exact same thing.
Keeping his hands off the woman wasn’t going to be easy. But he was damn sure
going to try.

□«»□

Several minutes later, Trace made it to
Marissa’s bedroom door. Refusing to waste any more time, he knocked firmly. His
heart was racing ninety miles a minute, and it had nothing to do with the
single flight of stairs he’d just ascended and everything to do with the woman
he was about to confront.

“Come in,” her clipped voice called from
the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath, Trace turned the
knob and pushed open the door. Doing his best to appear aloof as well as
professional, he tried to keep his gaze focused on her face. Not an easy thing
to do considering who he was dealing with. There was something about Marissa
that drew his attention, and now was clearly not the time for him to get
distracted by her.

After weighing the repercussions, Trace
decided to close the door behind him. He hadn’t wanted to because, honestly, he
didn’t trust himself alone with her. Not in her bedroom—last night had been a
true test of his willpower, and it was a fucking wonder that he hadn’t failed.

But the conversation was probably going to
get tense, and they needed a little privacy.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind
him, Marissa turned to face him, her eyes widening slightly. Her body language
told him she felt the crackle in the air as much as he did, but she did a damn
good job of pretending she didn’t. He hoped like hell he could act as well as
she could.

“What?” she asked, her tone laced with
irritation, although he got the impression she tried to temper her reaction
somewhat.

Fail.

“We need to talk.”

“Then talk,” she said in a huff, her hands
landing on her slender hips as she stared back at him.

Trace swallowed hard, trying to rein in
the overwhelming need that seized him. With Marissa, there had always been an
underlying tension between them.

Sexual? Probably.

Okay, yes. Definitely.

At least in the last few years.

Physical attraction could be potent; Trace
was well aware of that. But when it came to his attraction to Marissa, it was far
more than the desire to have her beneath him, claiming her body with his own.
That was a large part of it, but Trace wanted more from her.

He wanted … everything.

Claiming her, possessing her, protecting
her... It was a need he’d battled for longer than he cared to admit to.

Ignoring the pressing urge that ignited in
his veins, Trace remembered the task at hand.

He was just about to open his mouth to say
something when Marissa interrupted him.

“I get that you’re gonna make all my
decisions for me. And I’m not gonna argue, especially after what happened last
night, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you boss me around,” Marissa said
suddenly, causing Trace to forget everything he’d been thinking about.

He wasn’t sure how to break it to her that
she wouldn’t be calling the shots.

“I’m serious, Trace,” she added, obviously
concerned that he hadn’t responded.

“Marissa…”

“Don’t ‘Marissa’ me,” she argued. “You got
your way. Where I go, you go. But you’re the muscle; you don’t get to tell me
what to do or when I can do it.”

For
fuck’s sake
.

If he’d thought at any point this would be
simple—keep an eye on her until they nailed the bastard who was threatening her
… no, amend that … the bastard who was trying to
kill
her—it was clear he’d been sorely mistaken.

“Until this asshole is caught, you won’t
be goin’ anywhere. We’ll go to my place, but that’s it,” he informed her,
inserting the dominance that was as much a part of him as breathing.

The idea of Marissa at his place still caused
an unsettling feeling in Trace’s gut. He’d managed to keep his hands off her up
to this point, but he was pretty damn sure that having her alone for an
undetermined amount of time was going to push him past his own limits.

“Or so you think,” she argued, and Trace
got the impression she was arguing for the simple sake of arguing.

Although she’d told him she wouldn’t.

He sighed.

Realizing he could probably get his point
across better if he was nice about it, Trace swallowed his retort. “Just for
grins, you mind telling me exactly how you intend for this to go?” he asked
nicely, dropping onto the edge of her bed.

Mistake.

Sitting on a bed—
her
bed—with Marissa standing a few feet in front of him brought
back a myriad of fantasies that he’d become intimately familiar with in recent
years. Bouncing back to his feet, because, um, yeah, sitting on the bed was
not
going to work, Trace paced toward
the large picture window that overlooked the front of the compound.

From where he stood, he could see his
parents’ house far off in the distance, just a speck on the horizon. He knew
that if he looked out the back windows of the house, he’d see TJ’s house on the
other side of the compound, as well, just as far off.

After years of taking down the bad guys,
infiltrating some rather revolting organizations, Casper, Bryce, and TJ had
decided that a secure location for them was the only option to keep their wives
and their children safe. Their decision: purchase hundreds of acres of land and
construct houses in various locations.

Mission accomplished. Complex created.

Casper and Liz lived in one house, Bryce
and Emily in another, and TJ and Steph in a third. From there, numerous smaller
structures had been built for the kids. Although Trace didn’t live on site,
Courtney, Hunter, and Conner, as well as Marissa’s brothers, did. TJ’s kids,
all under the age of twenty-five, still lived with their parents, although it
could possibly be the house that made them want to stay. With ten thousand
square feet, it wasn’t as if they were actually under foot at all.

But not
Trace
.
Trace had bolted from home the moment he was old enough. He would admit to
being rebellious.

Too bad the decision to keep everyone in
one place hadn’t helped to save one of their own. Conner’s wife had still died,
and it hadn’t mattered where they were living, because her murder hadn’t
happened there. It’d gone down where they worked.

“I want to go back to living my life like
normal. I’m sick and tired of being cooped up.”

Trace turned to face Marissa, thrusting
his hands in his pockets. “We all want that, but it’s not an option right now.”

Marissa’s face fell as though he’d
actually told her something she didn’t already know. He shouldn’t have to explain
this to her. Hell, the last attempt on her life had been merely a few days ago,
and the last attempt to get to her had been last fucking night.

Rather than argue, because truthfully, neither
of them were going to win, Trace kept his attention riveted to Marissa, willing
her to say more.

“What are the rules?” Marissa finally
huffed.

Trace wanted to smile, but he managed to
contain it. “Until this is resolved, we’re staying at my place. No going out.
No visiting friends, no friends visiting you.”

“No way,” she argued. “Not gonna happen,
Trace. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been locked up for almost a whole year.”

Oh, he’d noticed. He’d also noticed that
there were plenty of things she wasn’t aware of when it came to the threat to
her. And he damn sure wasn’t going to put her in the line of fire, no matter
how big of a fit she threw.

“Two options, Marissa,” Trace said, taking
a deep breath. “One, we stay here—if that’ll make you feel better—where I can
keep an eye on you and you’ll be closer to your parents. You’re safe here, to
an extent. In my opinion, too many people know where you are, but with the
security in place, I can protect you here.”

It was true, too many people, as in the
agents who worked for Sniper 1, knew exactly where Casper, Bryce, and TJ lived.
Trace probably wouldn’t have thought too much about it if it hadn’t been for
the asshole who’d tried to break in last night or the fact that Bryce and
Casper suspected there was a mole in their midst. According to what they’d
shared, they very well could be dealing with an insider, which meant Marissa
wasn’t safe no matter where they kept her.

Except…

“Or, what’s my other option? Staying with
you?” She didn’t sound at all pleased with the idea.

“Yes. Like I said.” Not exactly the ideal
place to take her when it came to his peace of mind, but it was as secure as dwellings
went and untraceable. “But I’m the boss. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I
say it. No questions. No arguments.”

“
What?
”

Yeah, that was the reaction he’d been expecting.

“You heard me. We stay here with your
parents or we go to my place. I’m even lettin’ you make the decision. But either
way, we do things my way.”

Trace was surprised by the conflict that flashed
in her clear blue eyes. Honestly, he’d made the suggestion because he’d thought
it would be a no-brainer for her.

Apparently he’d been wrong.

□«»□«»□«»□

Marissa couldn’t believe she was standing
here having this argument with Trace. She figured it had more to do with her
nerves than a true desire to fight with him. The thought of being alone with
him, at his place, was terrifying. Almost as terrifying as waiting for the bad
guys to show up at her door and attempt to take her again.

But in the end, staying with Trace was
certainly the lesser of two evils. If Trace wanted to play hardball, Marissa
was fully onboard. After all, he clearly hadn’t expected her to agree to go to
his place. Hell, she hadn’t known she would agree, but here they were.

However, it was obvious that the man
clearly thought she’d sit back and let them continue to tell her what to do.
That wasn’t the case anymore. This was her life.

Honestly, she would feel safer at Trace’s.

Sort of.

Marissa knew that Trace lived in a
warehouse—or rather, what used to be a warehouse. It had been converted into an
impressive living quarters according to how others had explained it. Not to
mention, it put an entirely new perspective on security. No, she had never been
there. No, she had absolutely no idea what to expect. Still, the idea of being
in a secluded place did have its appeal.

Because she wanted a change of scenery.

Because she wanted to keep her mother
safe.

Because she wanted to
feel
safe.

At least that’s what Marissa told herself.

Plus, he had a roommate, another Sniper 1
agent, to boot, so it wasn’t like she was going to be completely alone with
him.

As she stared back at Trace, she couldn’t
deny the true underlying reason for her decision. Being alone with him, for
just a little while, was too damned appealing. It was the highlight of what had
been a very, very bad year.