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“What if you’re not good enough?”
His hooded eyes stared at me with a combination of frustration and raw anger. I was pushing his buttons. That’s what I did best.
“Then we die.”
“Then that means you’re not good enough.”
“Listen here, princess. While you were basking in some yachting trip to the Mediterranean with your parents or one of your rich boyfriends, I was wallowing in mud, sweat, and blood in an attempt to keep the peace. You’re a goddamn spoiled little girl and I’m not in the mood to nor will I deal with your shit. You’re going to straighten up or I assure you that the punishment you received before will pale in comparison to what you’ll receive next.”
He rubbed his hand across his belt, growling loudly enough I knew he was trying to scare me.
“Fuck you, Cobra. I know my father pissed you off, but trust me, his nastiness was meant entirely for me.” The change in our connection left me cold and aching inside. I could tell he was frustrated by my father but so was I.
I could tell by his cold expression that I’d pushed him too far just like I did everyone else. What the hell was wrong with me?
You’re scared and angry.
“I’ll take you to your room.” He barely glanced at me before pointing toward the door, although his tone had softened. I hated the coldness, the inability to talk about what had happened between us. There was no other choice and both of us knew it. We were two ships that eventually would pass in the night.
Hopefully.
If we didn’t end up dead first.
* * *
Jagger
Little Miss Princess had every reason to act as if the entire world was against her. I’d been observant all my life, gauging both people as well as situations in order to develop a plan of action. Isabella’s relationship with her father was caustic at best, his emotionless statements to her enforcing an already existing edge between them. The man was banking on his ascension to what he believed would be a throne of power. He above most people should know that being president of the United States made him a puppet and nothing else.
Granted, even though I’d served in the Marines, no one could ever confuse me for being a politician. I abhorred the bullshit and lies both parties alluded to. From what I’d read, he was expected to win in a landslide.
Unless some scathing dirty laundry was surfaced prior to the election. The nagging remained. There were things going on behind the scenes that hadn’t been deemed important enough to discuss. And Isabella’s reaction troubled me. His words hadn’t provided a trust factor.
Then there were her words said in anger, but they held a ring of truth. What the hell had the woman endured?
I yanked on the tags I’d worn around my neck since the first day I’d entered the Marines. I’d never taken them off. Not once. They gave me limited comfort in a shitty world where broken men like me were tossed aside once their usefulness was gone. At almost five in the morning, the imprinted numbers did little but scrape against the rough pads of my fingers.
I’d remained awake the entire night, itching to get the hell out of the facility. We were far too close to a group of assassins that was likely combing every county close to DC in order to try to find her. I’d considered leaving the country immediately but there was no doubt every airport within two hundred miles, whether public or private, was being monitored. I needed to buy time and hopefully, members of the FBI and CIA would do their fucking jobs rounding up the bastards.
Until then, we’d lay low in a location I’d secured on my own.
The third cup of coffee had left a bitter taste in my mouth, finally able to replace the taste of her. Her. I could barely recite her name in my mind. I’d crossed every line, succumbing to physical desires I long since thought dead. That’s where they should have remained. I leaned against the wall, attempting for the tenth time to decipher why she’d broken through a barrier that years of anguish had built.
Fuck if I knew.
I remained furious with her father for acting as if he didn’t care about her in the least. What he couldn’t have in the last weeks before the election was to have the attention taken off him for any reason, including his family’s welfare. If I ever had a child, the sun, moon, and stars would revolve around him or her.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
There wasn’t a woman alive who’d want the likes of me to father her child.
Suddenly, I sensed her presence and tipped my head. She stood in the same jeans, wearing another shirt, her stare piercing through me. If the girl had expected I’d turn romantic after our… interlude, she was sadly mistaken. We’d fucked. That was all. Now I could shut down my desire and deal with the business at hand.
Or so I hoped.
“You said we were leaving early,” she stated, her arms remaining by her sides, her hands fisted. By her feet was the duffle I’d brought with the few things purchased to make her life easier. She appeared lost yet resolved to what she would face. That was good. At least she was being more realistic.
“Five minutes. There’s some coffee if you want it.”
