Chapter Three
Katarina awoke when Tin’s alarm sounded.
She was jetlagged as fuck and could probably have slept ten more hours. Stretching, she realized that even with the jetlag, she hadn’t slept so well in ages. Her fingers didn’t burn, her headache was gone… she was still stiff, and her back ached, but it was a good ache.
She realized that she’d slept in Marcus’s bed in nothing but her underwear. Luckily, the sheet was still wrapped around her.
The scent of rose oil and Marcus’s unique scent greeted her and she felt safe. She never thought she’d feel that around a man again. Not that she thought he was some kind of monster, or that any of the guys on her team were—they all had a stronger bond. With Marcus it was different. Just his presence soothed her, comforted her. Almost like he was the Big Bad that could shield her from the dark.
Damn, but it was too early in the morning for such deep thoughts.
Marcus reached over and fumbled with his phone, silencing the alarm. “We’ve got debriefing in an hour.”
“If I shower here, I can lay here another thirty minutes.”
“Fifteen, if you want coffee.” He got up and she was startled by the way the sunlight shone through the narrow slats of blinds and revealed what seemed to be a new dimension to his body.
Or maybe it was a new dimension of her.
She liked looking at him. At his tattoos, his scars, and the muscle beneath. She’d always thought they were like a banner on his skin, a victory cry of all that he’d survived. A badge of his strength and everything she admired about him. From the scarred-over and demolished angel wings on his back that he told her meant he was a messenger of God—an Enforcer—to the suit of clubs on his bicep that meant he was a criminal. The six-eight tattoo on his throat that had been scarred when it was slashed, and even the Kansas Chiefs tattoo which identified him as Blood. He said it meant Crips Hated In Every Fucking State. She loved them all.
But her gaze had changed. It wasn’t just the tattoos. The scars. She found herself admiring his body. The way it moved, his strength… and because it was him.
She pursed her lips together.
That wasn’t something she’d ever expected. Not after what happened to her and especially not since sometimes she still had to use her body in ops. Make no mistake, she was no one’s victim. She chose what to do with her body, chose to use it to further her goals. Men had become tools, their bodies were either to be feared or utilized for her own gain. She didn’t like to look at them, didn’t want to touch them, didn’t like the way they smelled.
Marcus smelled like safety.
Like home.
Waking up next to him, even in her current state of undress caused no panic, no fear.
No unwanted memories.
And no pain.
She thought about touching him, just because she wanted to. Tracing her fingers over those angel wings. Would he let her?
But what if he did allow it? What if he liked it? What if he wanted more?
She’d seen lust in his eyes once or twice, it had never scared her. Never made her steel herself, waiting for some onslaught. It was a normal reaction for him to look at her that way—they were frequently in high stress situations. Adrenaline could easily translate to lust. It was just science.
He wanted fat babies.
Yeah, that was the thing that stuck most in her mind while she was looking at arms that were strong enough to rip someone’s head off, and shoulders that fairly often did bear the weight of the world.
Fat babies, indeed.
She hadn’t been kidding when she confessed to him that she’d thought about what a child of theirs would be like. One of the consequences of having a job like this was considering all angles, all situations. She found herself wondering what if she did decide she wanted children? She certainly didn’t want to go about it the old-fashioned way, but she wouldn’t want a random donor. She thought about the best man she’d ever known and it was Marcus Grant. Despite his past, despite the blood on his hands—or maybe because of it.
Only she knew he didn’t want that kind of life. He wanted the fairy tale. The wife, the yard, the kid and a dog with weekend BBQs and the PTA. He’d be a wonderful father, she was sure.
When he did reach out to take his dream, she knew she and Elite would have to step aside.
The thought of him having that, getting his dream, it made her happy for him. Yet, the thought of him having it with someone else, some other woman who wasn’t her would be first in his life—and no doubt, that was as it should be, but it pissed her off.
Katarina was already jealous of a woman he hadn’t even met yet. She’d probably be perfect, too. Tall and leggy, she’d know just what he liked. She wouldn’t be afraid of it, wouldn’t shut down when she saw the lust spark in his dark eyes. She’d probably dare him to fuck her against the wall after the kids had gone to school.
Christ, what was wrong with her?
Her brain was just a fucked up place to be.
Why was she thinking about those things? About Marcus? Probably because he was her anchor, more than family. More than friends. Vital. And this unnamed, faceless, Betty Crocker porn star was the one who could take him away from her.
In that moment, she hated Wellington Ashley and Red Wolf more than she thought it was possible to hate a thing. It burned her chest, like a flamethrower on the inside.
And more than that? She hated herself.
She hated herself for being so weak, so desperate, and so goddamn broken.
Yeah, they’d done this thing to her. Both of them had victimized her, but she kept allowing herself to be a victim over and over again. Every time she couldn’t breathe in a small space, every time a handsome man smiled at her and she felt nothing but derision and disgust tinged with fear, and even now thinking about Marcus. They won and she let them. They didn’t own space in her head, she’d given it to them.
Katarina knew bringing down Red Wolf and killing Wellington Ashley wouldn’t undo what had happened to her, but she’d make damn sure they didn’t do it to anyone else and that alone would help her sleep just a fraction of a bit better at night.
“You’ve got a pair of BDUs in the left bottom drawer,” Marcus called from the bathroom.
“Thanks,” she replied and found the spare change of clothes.
Katarina kept the sheet wrapped around herself and sat on the bed, waiting for him to finish.
He emerged from the shower in just a towel and despite her earlier admonishments to herself, she found herself watching the water bead down his hard body. Especially the line of his oblique muscles. It seemed to be like a runaway with flashing lights advertising what was underneath the towel.
Her staring didn’t go unnoticed. For fuck’s sake, how could it? She practically bore through his skin to his bones with the intensity of her regard.
He arched a brow. “See something new?”
They’d been in intimate situations before where they’d shared body heat so they didn’t freeze to death, or had to change clothes with little cover. She’d never been body conscious around him, and Marcus, well… he’d never been body conscious around anyone.
And why should he be? Even with his scars, he was built like a god of war. Correction, and it was something she’d just now noticed, but the scars added to the mystique.
She swallowed hard and decided to be honest. “I just realized you’re a man.”
“Well, no shit, Nickel.”
She tittered, and bit her lip, hating the sound. “No, I mean…you’ve always just been Marcus. And seeing you like this…” she gestured haplessly, as if the motion would somehow conjure the words she wanted.
His eyes narrowed, but then he exhaled heavily, taking a step back. “I’m not going to hurt you, Katarina.”
“I know that.” Emotion welled in her gut like bile. “You’d never hurt me.” When she exhaled, it came out in a shudder, almost like a death rattle.
“You’ve seen me after the shower before. What’s different now? Talk to me.”
His kind consideration was almost too much. “We have debriefing.”
“Fuck the debriefing. They can’t start without us.” When she didn’t say anything, he spoke again. “Is it because you liked what you were looking at?”
“I can’t do this now.” Fear set in, but it wasn’t fear of him. It was fear of herself.
“If not now, when? I don’t want things to be wrong between us just because I did some sit ups. This body is just meat. It’s okay if you like it. In fact, that’s fucking awesome. I work hard to stay strong.”
He took her hand and she let him, but she looked away even as her fingers came into contact with his warm, hard flesh.
“There, see. Nothing’s different.”
She looked up at him then and found herself eye-to-eye with his towel.
And his erection.
“Nothing’s different?” How could he say that? Everything was different.
“Nothing has changed. You’re a beautiful woman on my bed wrapped in nothing but a sheet. You liked what you saw of my body and I like yours. That doesn’t mean anything. You’re still safe. I’m still me.” He let go of her hand, but she didn’t pull away. “And you’re still you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she murmured, unable to look away from the towel, or move her hand.
It was as if time had stopped—frozen. Or maybe that was just the blood in her veins.
“Are you afraid of me now?”
“No, not you. Me. Of breaking the bond between us. Because I can’t…” She gulped and tried again. “I’m not…” She shook her head.
“Little One. Look at me.” He tipped her chin up with a gentle hand. “My face.”
Her stare followed the trail of his hard muscles all the way up to his dark eyes. There was nothing there but acceptance. No pity, no sorrow, not even any lust. “Have I asked you to be anything you’re not?”
“No.” Her heart thundered like a storm in her chest.
“It’s just biology, Katarina. It’s the same as eating, breathing or shitting. We all do it. ”
“Not everyone is like you.” His erection was gone. Why did it have to be a big deal? It was probably nothing more serious than morning wood.
You’re a beautiful woman on my bed wrapped in nothing but a sheet. You liked what you saw of my body and I like yours.
It was more than morning wood. He’d admitted he liked her body.
But she didn’t. Sometimes, she hated it. She couldn’t say she wished he’d see her for more than her body, her meat, because she knew that he did. He’d never made a move on her, never made her feel unsafe, so why did it feel like the very foundations of her world were crumbling underneath her?
Of course he was a man. He was every inch a strong, courageous alpha male. And everything else that went along with that.
“Are you still afraid?”
“No.” She wasn’t afraid, but her head was a mess. Katarina spent the night here, in his bed. Now she was thinking about him in ways she didn’t want. In ways that could end them. She didn’t even like sex anymore. She didn’t seek it out. She knew better. Her mind was playing tricks on her, digging up that childhood fantasy of Prince Charming. She’d been engaged to Prince Charming and knew that he was just a douchebag in tin foil.
“My head’s not right, Tin.”
“Then get it right. We’ve got debriefing.”
That was the escape she wanted, and she trudged into the bathroom with her spare set of BDUs with the sheet wrapped around her tight.
She was grateful he brought it back around to their missions. When everything else was shit, she could always count on that.
On him.
The hot water of the shower felt good, soothed her. She realized when he’d been touching her, when she touched him, that she didn’t have any pain. No sensory pain, anyway. Her head was a wreck.
She didn’t want to think about what any of it meant. They had a debriefing that she was sure would lead to a mission. Katarina needed her head in the game.
She finished her shower quickly and dressed.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she was determined to be Nickel. Katarina had no place in the world at the moment.
She was strong. She was tough. She was smart. She was a motherfucking Marine.
Katarina repeated that mantra over and over again until the only noise in her head was “Oorah, motherfucker!” It drowned out everything else, suffocated it until the voices, the fear, everything was silent.
They met Titanium at the Mesquite airport in a small hangar.
She was pretty sure they’d be heading to Miami.
Katarina cracked her neck as the pain flickered to life. Her fingers burned, her back felt like she was being stabbed a thousand times and the sensation shot down her arms. It would settle in a few hours, her mind numbing itself to the messages her pain receptors were shooting like a Western Union telegraph.
“They’re here,” Poppy said as soon as she saw them and put her hand on Titanium’s shoulder.
“Is this true?” Titanium asked as soon as their footsteps echoed on the cement. “The intel you sent. Fedir Yukodvich is hosting high ranking members of Red Wolf?”
“Them and every other piece of shit on the eastern seaboard.” Tin nodded.
“So we all know what this means for both of you if you take this mission. You’re going to have to go deep cover and the fastest and easiest is in the flesh trade. You don’t have to. I can give it to Copper and Merc.” Titanium had an uncanny way of knowing where everyone was, even though he couldn’t actually see them. He tilted his head toward Nickel.
She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, you know, leading Elite is pretty hard. You should go ahead and hand it over to Steele and Chrome. I mean, what with your injuries and all.”
Titanium narrowed his unseeing eyes.
“Not nice, is it? I’m a fucking Marine. Just like Tin.” She nodded at Tin, even though Titanium couldn’t see her. “And just like you.”
“Point taken. But don’t ever give me shit for taking care of my team. That’s what I do. And I won’t lose you or bomb this op because you couldn’t handle it. I’m trusting you to tell me what you can and can’t handle because you’re a fucking Marine.”
He was right. She scrubbed her hand over her face. “Sorry. It was a long trip, but I’m good, Titanium. I swear, I can do this.”
“I know you can.” He nodded.
And just like that, it was all good. She knew he believed in her. Why had she even said that? She was proving herself incompetent already.
“Maybe we should let Copper and Merc take it. Gabriel has great connections.”
She turned to look at Tin, trying not to feel betrayed. “Why?”
“We’ve just been out on a lot of ops. Maybe it’s time for a break.”
“Now that we’re so close to Red Wolf?” And Wellington Ashley. No. Hell no. “You can sit this one out if you want to, but I’m going.”
“Actually, he can’t,” Titanium said. “Yukodvich is running a lot of merchandise, human included, through Kansas City. The Bloods are acting as security. Your 68th street crew is top tier.”
“Fuck.” Tin growled.
“I know things ended badly for you, but is there any chance anyone would be open to your overtures?”
Tin’s eyes went dead and blank. “Yeah. With the proper funding, we could make it happen.” Suddenly, it was like a heavy shadow had fallen over him. “But you have to understand. These guys are just as dangerous as Red Wolf.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t ask it of you if we had another option. It would take too long to get someone else in place. The funding, I have. The time, I do not.”
“When do we leave?” Tin asked quietly.
“Now.”
“Supplies and cash are on the plane. You’re going to Kansas City,” Poppy said.
Tin boarded the craft without another word. Katarina felt as if she should say something else to Titanium, but she didn’t know what.
“Sir, I—”
“Take care of him,” Titanium ordered.
“Yes, sir.” That she could do.
That she wanted to do.
She felt like it was always him taking care of her and maybe it was her turn.
She boarded the aircraft behind him and settled into her seat.
When they were in the air, he said, “When we get to KC, you can still back out. Let me go in alone.”
“Hell no,” she said quietly. “Number one, I’d never abandon you on an op. Ever. Number two, I don’t need you to protect me from this. We’re so close. Whatever I have to do to make this happen, whatever sacrifice it takes, I will make it. Happily.”
“Will you really?” He turned to look at her, eyes still dead and shadowed.
She’d never seen that look on his face before and she’d admit that it rattled her. “I will.”
“What if 68th Street decides they want to sample the goods they’ll be selling? Huh? Did you think about that?”
“I think that I don’t care. You’d better let them. I will do anything to get close to Red Wolf. Anything.”
“Anything.” He nodded. “I’ve seen what they do to women. I was part of it once. Once. She wanted to join the gang. You know how women join 68th Street? They get fucked by every senior member of the gang. Sometimes other members too, just because. To prove their loyalty. I was third, to reward me for the two Crips I’d executed that day. She wasn’t crying yet, when it was my turn. I was seventeen and I didn’t know any better. So I fucked her. But by the seventh guy who wanted to fuck her in the ass, she was sobbing. Begging for it to be over.”
Her nose twitched like he’d punched her. It tingled and her eyes watered. For a moment, he was like them. He was every horrible thing that went bump in the night. He was her nightmare, more so because she’d trusted him.
“You still so sure you want to do this?”
“How many times did you do that, Marcus?”
“That doesn’t have any bearing on the question I’m asking you and frankly, it’s not your business.”
“How can you say that to me?”
“The same way you can ask me to take you on this mission. To watch this happen to you.”
“Fuck you, Tin. Fuck you so hard.” He turned away from her, but she grabbed his arm, digging her nails into the skin. “I don’t care, do you hear me? I don’t care. Whatever it fucking takes.”
“Goddamn you, Katarina. Goddamn you.”
They were silent for a long time and she couldn’t bear it. The silence was suffocating and Katarina had never felt more lost.
“Please tell me.”
“Once. Just that once. They all called me a bitch, a pussy. Said my nuts hadn’t dropped if I didn’t want to ‘fuck a ho.’ But I never did that again.”
“She didn’t tell you to stop. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“How can you say that to me? It was all kinds of wrong.”
“Because I love you, dumbass. If she’d asked you to stop, would you have?”
“Of course. But here’s the thing, I didn’t help her when she begged for the rest of them to stop. Being complacent makes me guilty.”
“She’s still in the gang, though, isn’t she?”
“Last I knew.”
“Did she know that’s what would happen? That was part of the deal?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, you should’ve helped her when she said no. She had the right to change her mind. But you were seventeen. You were a child. There was one of you and how many of them?”
“I was a child with a 9 who’d already taken lives.”
“You’re not that child anymore. You’ve saved more people than you’ve hurt.”
“Don’t ask me to do this. For me, stay out of this one.”
For a moment, just a single second, his raw vulnerability tempted her to say yes. But she couldn’t. “Have you ever thought maybe I need this? Maybe I need to choose this?”
“You need to choose to go undercover in a sex trafficking ring?”
“Yeah. It’s my body. I need to choose what I do with it. How I use it. And damn it, Marcus. I know Wellington Ashley will be there. I’ll have another chance to kill him. To know that the monster under the bed is dead.”
“I’ll kill him for you.”
“No. I don’t want to be saved. I need to save myself.”
He turned silent and stony to stare out the window.
It hurt her that he didn’t understand, but it was okay that he didn’t. She didn’t care if anyone understood or approved of her choices. They were hers to make.
She wasn’t denying that this would be hard, but when she said any sacrifice was worth it, she meant it. If cutting off an arm would get her close enough to bring down Red Wolf, she’d cut the motherfucker off, beat them with her bloody stump and stuff it down Wellington Ashley’s throat.