Page 80 of Deadfall

I got out of dinner by telling Lev I didn’t feel well and after the house was asleep, I snuck out my window and commandeered one of the SUVs. I knew in a house full of ex-military men and copious surveillance cameras that truly sneaking out was impossible, but I wasn’t stopped and I surprisingly wasn’t followed.

The cashier looked up from his magazine with a bored look when I entered the store. I resisted the urge to yank the collar of my jacket up further and quickly handed over some cash. Once seated at the ancient computer, I took a deep breath and hovered my gloved hands over the stained keyboard, debating where to start.

Theron North.

The search pulled up nothing. Not even any articles regarding the fire at the lake house, or our family’s disappearance. I typed in another search.

Kraven North.

Nothing again—

Theron North military.

Again, nothing. I spent the next five minutes searching everything I could think of, but no matter what search I did, nothing came up about my father. It was more than suspicious, and I’d been around Lev long enough to know what it meant—he didn’t want to be found.

I hunched over the keyboard, hands clasped under my chin. I could still give up and ask Lev, but I knew it would open up all sorts of questions I didn’t want to answer. And God forbid, Riggs found out. I wasted a minute of my time lost in thought. The timer on the screen said I only had two minutes left. As a last ditch effort, I typed in my last search.

Private military contractors.

I wrote down all of the ones that populated the first page with their contact info and drove back to the safe house. My mind whirled with next steps and the possibility of actually finding my father that I didn’t notice the shadow move in the hedges under my window until a muscular arm wrapped around my neck from behind. My training blended with instinct and I reacted. In a split second, I had the man, who I realized was Riggs, on his back beneath me, the flat of my dagger pressed against his throat.

“I don’t like being snuck up on,” I growled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so careless then.” He surged up, his arms banded around me. I inhaled sharply, unsure how I felt at the abrupt contact.

“You gonna put that away?” I couldn’t make out his features very well, but his voice vibrated through me and sent a shiver up my spine. I hid it by stashing the knife back at my waist. I went to get up, but Riggs' hands slid down to my ass and pulled me harder against him.

“Riggs,” I warned, but my voice sounded breathless.

“Where’d you sneak off to, Syn?”

I gritted my teeth. “None of your business.”

“I disagree,” Riggs rumbled.

Despite my dislike of Riggs, my entire body felt alive. I realized my fists were bunched in his shirt and forced myself to relax my fingers. He was hard between my legs, and although warnings blared in my head and told me I needed to get off his lap, my body rather liked where his cock was pressed. His warm breath tickled my ear and sent electric sensations straight between my legs.

“One wrong move from you could compromise everything.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but before any words could come out, one of Riggs’ hands snaked under my clothes and tweaked my nipple over my sports bra. I slapped him on impulse, even as my breath caught in my throat. I froze, because fuck, I hit him—again. But, instead of getting mad like I anticipated, he hardened even more between my legs.

“Where were you tonight?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice.

He still held my hardened nipple between his fingers and squeezed it with firm pressure that quickly woke me up everywhere. Everywhere, but my rational thoughts. When I still didn’t answer, his other hand squeezed the crease of my hip and thigh, his thumb millimeters from my center. The tension between us was so thick, I couldn’t take a breath without being completely consumed by his scent.

“Stop.” My voice was no louder than a choked whisper.

“Stop?” Riggs sounded amused, but there was also a rough quality to his voice I liked a little too much. Or rather, my pussy liked it—I just wanted to slap him again.

His finger twitched against my breast and I tried to shove him away but only succeeded in shifting my hips against his. My thin leggings rubbed against his hard length that strained in his jeans. Something very close to a growl came from Riggs, while I had to fight myself not to do it again.

“Syn,” he breathed.

The way Riggs said my name, in that rough voice that sounded suspiciously close to a plea, was deadly. I cursed quietly and surged off his lap. I shoved him away as I half-stumbled, half-fell backward to get some distance between us. I grabbed onto whatever shred of self-control and decency I could find that told me this was a bad idea. Because, it was a very, very bad idea.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarled.

We both climbed to our feet. I was glad the darkness hid our features. I didn’t want to see his face, and I sure as hell didn’t want him seeing the confusion on mine. Or worse, how fucking turned on I was. I was surprised when he let me run away and I made it all the way back to my room unmolested. I crawled into bed still irritated. I tossed and turned before I ended up staring at the dark ceiling, wide awake with an itch under my skin.