Sight Lines (The Arsenal Book 2) Read online

  Whatever. Head on her arms sounded phenomenal, like a short nap without the time commitment of real sleep. One of these days she’d have to give a full five or six hours at a time a go, but she’d managed with two or three here and there so far. Once Danny was safe and they had Jian in custody, she’d sleep. She rested her head between her arms.

  Deft hands massaged her neck and shoulders. She tried not to tense beneath the ministration, mainly because the man doing it was an unknown assassin and there was a six-million-dollar bounty on her head. Dying might almost be worth it, though, if she got a few more minutes of his fingers kneading the tension away. He angled downward, working the tired muscles in her back. Then upward to her arms. Then back to her shoulders and neck. The contact alternated between light and deep, so she remained fully focused on it, never quite knowing what to expect.

  Her pulse quickened, her breathing turned erratic. Anticipation beaded along her skin in tiny goosebumps she hoped he couldn’t see along her arms. It’d been forever since anyone touched her like this. She still remembered him touching her ankle in the hallway. The man was impossibly tactile. Was he like that with everyone?

  “Come on, Viviana. Time to walk around some.”

  She lifted up and realized fifteen minutes had passed. How the heck had that happened? Wait. “Where did everyone go?”

  Though it appeared she and Jud were very much alone, they weren’t. Cameras observed in the corner.

  “The mess hall to eat,” he answered with a smirk. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get some grub then we’ll walk you a bit.”

  “Walk me? I’m not a dog, Judson Jensen.” She kinked up her nose. “That’s insulting. I’m not a dog person. I’m a cat girl. I think.”

  “You think?” He turned her to face him. “No pets?”

  “No, it doesn’t seem fair to them, you know. I work all the time. But, I’m settled in here with The Arsenal.” Or sort of settled. Did unpacked boxes count? “I figured a cat wouldn’t mind. They’re kind of anti-social animals like me, right?”

  “Dogs are curious and intensely loyal. Protective.” He bumped her nose with a finger. “That’s more like you than a fur ball with attitude and whiskers, though I have to admit you have a lot of sass.”

  Okay, he really was comparing her to animals. That was…adorable. Insulting. She see-sawed between the two reactions as she looked up at him. An awareness pebbled beneath her skin, she could still feel his hands on her even though he was a good foot away. He prowled closer, an uncaged hunter. His hand settled around her waist. She trundled alongside him as he guided her down the hall like he’d been at The Arsenal for years.

  “You’re very tactile,” she blurted.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “On why,” she admitted. “You aren’t touching all the others. Are you hoping to get the perfect opportunity to snap my neck or something?”

  He turned, guiding her backward until she was against the wall. He leaned forward, settling both hands around her head like muscular bookends. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mary, or anyone else here at The Arsenal, Viviana. I touch you because I find it impossible not to. It’s been a long time since a woman stirred my interest for something more than some quick fun between the sheets.”

  Vi thought any fun with Judson between the sheets wouldn’t ever be quick. That’d be a downright travesty if it were true. She must’ve blurted the thought or done something equally embarrassing because his laughter echoed through the corridor—the very empty corridor. His handsome face really did turn nuclear when he smiled full-on. Riley hadn’t been wrong.

  Vi reached out and caressed his face. He liked touch. Did that mean he craved someone’s in return? “Were you always in contact with your family?”

  He leaned toward the contact, but tension corded in his arms. “No. That was recent, a perk I demanded because I’d earned it with a bigger graveyard than most of their operatives combined. I’m not a good man, Viviana. I never will be.”

  “That’s not true,” she argued with a whisper. “A bad man wouldn’t have put himself on the line for a woman he didn’t know, a team he wasn’t part of, because his nephew wanted him to. A bad man would’ve put a bullet in my brain and demanded his nephew’s dad be cut loose.”

  Jud looked down, as if unwilling to concede the point he’d made. Vi ran her hand down to where his face met his neck and squeezed until he looked at her again. The fiery intensity within his gaze silenced the voice in her head a moment, the one demanding she walk away from whatever the awareness between them meant.

  “That was never a consideration for either you or Jacob, was it?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “It’d be a lot easier. It’s not like you know me or Mary.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he argued. “I know the women Danny knew you to be, the Wonder Women who yanked him out of hell and refused to ever let go, ever give up.”

  Vi’s chest squeezed, twisted. “Don’t. You make it sound like we’re perfect, infallible. Mary is. She’s never made a mistake, never failed on a mission.”

  “But you think you have. You’ve run missions without her?”

  “A few. And, yeah, I’ve failed. I failed Danny,” she admitted. Heat rose in her cheeks when he dragged his feet closer. Heat from their bodies mingled, creating a furnace of awareness between them. Cocooned within it, she let the words she’d held onto tumble out. “I keep remembering the op, what went down. I didn’t do enough for his injuries. Maybe if I’d done more he would’ve…”

  “Don’t,” Jud growled. “Don’t take that as your strike. I wasn’t there, but I’ve heard Danny’s recount. There’s no way in hell you did anything that hurt him. He was already dead before you and Edge came into play.”

  She shook her head. He didn’t understand. “I failed Mary, too, you know. I should have known the mission Driggs sent me on was bogus. If I hadn’t gone, they wouldn’t have taken her.”

  “No, they would’ve probably taken you, too. Then they would’ve made you both break.”

  “You’re wrong. Mary wouldn’t have ever broken. Me neither,” she said.

  “Alone, you’re right. Neither of you would break,” he admitted. “But had it been my op, had I been tasked to make you break.”

  He paused. His gaze swept down her face. His fingertips stroked her cheek, the contact so slight it was a flutter against her skin.

  “Had I been tasked with making you break I would’ve used her to make you break, and vice versa.”

  “They did, you know,” Vi said. “They ran fake recordings of me being tortured. Raped. Screaming. When she first got back, when Dylan saved her, she’d scream my name, so loud and strong the entire building could hear. I still wake up hearing those blood curdling screams. I should have been there.”

  He settled her head against his shoulder and drew her into his arms. She suckled the confidence, the power he exuded and let the guilt and regret she’d carried escape a moment, long enough to vent some of the pent-up emotions. She didn’t understand why it was easier to share the darkness consuming her with him. He was a stranger.

  An assassin.

  Maybe that was why. No matter how dark her dark was, no matter the failures she’d reaped, he’d always be darker. It was rather ironic. The deadliest assassin in the deadliest organization around, The Judge, was the perfect confidant.

  “I’m not an expert, Viviana, but I’m thinking you need some help sorting through what you think. Someone’s done a number on you,” he whispered into her ear. “Someone has you thinking perfection is your responsibility.”

  Shock muted her a few moments. No one ever made the connection, except Mary and the girls. Even then, they’d never said it outright. Certainly not that quickly. “My parents were a bit…exacting. I wasn’t ever what they envisioned or wanted. I kind of did my own thing.”

  “That’s their problem, not yours. From where I�
��m standing, you’re pretty damn perfect, Viviana Chambers.” He drew her away so their gazes locked. His lips feathered across hers, slow and soft at first.

  The hesitancy burned away any insecurities she had. Whoever the hell Judson Jensen was, he was a damn good kisser. A frustrated moan escaped her as she deepened the contact, dared a foray of tongue along his lips. He repeated the motion, then added in a tantalizing seduction of tongue tangoing with hers. One hand cupped her face, the other remained at her waist. Hers roamed, ran along hard ridges of abdominals, up a sinewy back and across impossibly large biceps.

  “Well, it looks like she started with dessert first.” Mary’s amused voice fractured the moment.

  Vi scurried away like a teenager caught with a boy on her mom’s sofa. She’d never experienced burning shame until now. Mary and Dylan wore matching grins, but a hardness reflected in the latter’s gaze as he regarded Jud.

  “We brought you both some food.” Mary motioned to Dylan, who held two platters heaping with potato salad, beans and barbecue. “Momma Mason grabbed grub from Bubba’s. There’s even pecan pie.”

  “Pecan.” Vi groaned the word as she snagged a plate and headed back into the debriefing room.

  Food was the perfect distraction, mainly because it kept her mouth busy chewing food she shoveled into it rather than blurting out the things her brain was processing.

  She was attracted to Judson Jensen. It was the worst possible deduction and one she couldn’t refute, not after that kiss. Her entire body still hummed with need. Jud smirked as he sat across from her at the table. The bastard knew he’d knocked her for a loop with that kiss.

  And then there was what she’d spewed before. Talk about verbal diarrhea. Yeesh. She shoveled barbecue and some potato salad into her mouth and chewed through the thought. It felt like someone had scraped her insides with sandpaper. Her gaze flitted nervously from Jud to Mary and Dylan. He wouldn’t say anything, would he?

  Ugh. The thought made her stomach revolt. She set her fork down.

  “Eat, Viviana,” he ordered. “The only thing you need more than food right now is sleep.”

  “He’s right,” Mary said. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

  “I’ll catch some once teams are wheels up.” She took another bite. “I’ll have plenty of time to rest then.”

  “No, you and Mary will be handling the stateside teams and coordinating stuff. I know how you both are,” Dylan said.

  “It’ll take another few hours for HERA to provide more data. Cord and I will keep working with what’s coming out, but you need to get some sleep now. It’ll be crazy later,” Mary said.

  She was right. Vi hadn’t effectively time managed herself and now Mary and Cord would have to pick up her slack. Self-loathing seeped through her insides. Cord wasn’t as good with the data as Vi, which meant something could be missed.

  Mary shouldn’t even be working with the data, not after what she’d gone through. What if she stumbled across something that caused a flashback or upset her somehow? Vi wouldn’t be there to fix it because she’d screwed up and become too exhausted to function. She was hindering the team.

  “There’s a down room around the corner to the right. It’s the last door on the left and has a small sign,” Mary said. “Flip it over and people will know it’s occupied.”

  “Appreciated.” Jud’s voice tumbled near her ear. “I’m thinking you need sleep more than food. Put your arm around me.”

  “What are you doing?” The question proved unnecessary. He’d obviously lost his mind.

  Jud lifted her. One hand at her back and another under her knees, he carried her from the room.

  “Put me down.”

  “I’ll put you down in a minute. Relax.”

  Relax. The man was a loon. There wasn’t time to relax. She had data to mine, operations to plan, teams to debrief.

  “You’ll be more good to them and me after you’ve had a few hours rest, Viviana. You don’t know me, but trust me to care for you, just until you rest. Then you’ll be back to caring for everyone else.”

  Viviana relaxed against him. Exhaustion settled in her now that her hunger had been somewhat sated. Jud paused in front of the down room. He pushed the door open and pale light from the automated system turned on, bathing the small area in pale yellow. He sat on one of the two comfy loveseats she and Mary had picked out. They were a manly brown with plush leather and enough padding to feel like you were floating.

  He pulled a blanket from the table and settled it around her.

  “You can go now. I’ll rest,” she said.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Viviana,” he whispered. “Those screams are haunting you, aren’t they?”

  God. God. God.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and burrowed beneath the blanket and deeper into his arms. This was wrong on every level, she shouldn’t trust him with anything. Yet the admission tumbled from her in a nod.

  “Sleep. I’ll chase away your nightmares.”

  God. God. God.

  Deft hands moved along her arms and back, massaging the tension wherever they settled. Her mind moved past the impossibly long list of problems to fix and disasters to avert. The hypnotic glide along her skin lulled her thoughts.

  Sleep. I’ll chase away your nightmares.

  Vi smiled. For a few moments she had the biggest, baddest monster around to scare the others away. His name was Judson Jensen and he was trouble she didn’t want to avoid, not anytime soon.

  7

  Viviana hadn’t moved. Dylan had brought in a Bluetooth device for him to communicate with everyone in the other room three hours before, shortly after she’d fallen asleep. Jacob appeared a few minutes later with a tablet so he could see data as it streamed across. It took a while to navigate and figure out how to move between the various screens of information that were on the various white boards around the room, but Jud got the hang of it easily enough. HERA was a sweet system.

  The computer ran data through endless programs, ones the brilliant woman passed out in his arms designed. Thanks to her and Edge’s creation, Jud knew they had a crazy amount of data gathered—about Jian’s operation stateside and Danny’s situation.

  “Okay, HERA’s identified the boy. He’s a five-year-old Russian, Mico Ivanenko. His father was supposed to testify against the Solov family, a new Russian crime syndicate carving out a presence for themselves in North, Central and South America,” Mary said. “We gained access to the alphabet soup’s assorted files on the operation. Connections and web identifying patterns are Vi’s thing. I’m afraid we need our girl awake.”

  Three hours of rest was better than none he supposed. He glanced down at her head rested where it’d remained unmoving for the past few hours. The only thing that’d moved the entire time was her left flip-flop, which thudded to the floor a couple hours earlier. He smiled at her multi-colored toes. Adorable. Quirky.

  “Give me a few, then we’ll head in.” He flicked the device off and put the tablet on the table.

  He ran a hand down her silky, dark blonde hair and kissed her forehead. She sighed into the touch.

  “Viviana, we need you awake,” he whispered gently. Her hand burrowed under his shirt along the waist. She smacked her lips together, but kept sleeping. Amusement rumbled through him. She was the kind of woman who was all in once she made a decision. She held nothing back, even in sleep. He’d become her pillow and she wasn’t surrendering her rest without a fight.

  “Viviana.” He added an edge to his voice, an urgency.

  “What? What?” She popped up like a live wire. “What’d I miss?” She ran a hand down her face and looked around. “Okay, right. How long was I out?”

  “Three hours, give or take.” He held out the tablet. “Give yourself a couple minutes to wake, take a look at what HERA’s pulled so far.”

  She flipped through the data quickly. Stood. Walked.

  He followed, opening doors and steering her blind walk back to the deb
riefing room. Definitely all-in with everything she did. Her hair was rumpled from sleep, but he doubted she’d ever realize. He snagged her about the waist. “Hold up for a second.”

  “What? We have to get back in there,” she said.

  He knelt and wrapped a hand around her left ankle. “Lift.”

  “What?” She looked down. “Oh. Right.”

  He chuckled and put the flip-flop back on her foot. “When you get a dog, you’ll need better footwear. Flip-flops don’t make good chew toys for golden retrievers.”

  “No. Nuh uh. Flip-flops are perfect for cats because they don’t care about shoes at all, but the noise they make when you walk is fun for their little ears. You should buy some for when you get a cat. I’m thinking one of those hairless ones.”

  He slid the flip-flop into place, stroked the soft skin around her ankle and then stood. “Not getting a hairless cat, Viviana. That’s unnatural.”

  “They’d be easier to clean up after. Think of all the time you’d save,” she clipped.

  He wasn’t sure why they were chatting about dogs versus cats, but he recognized the tactic—she wanted a step back from whatever trust she’d given when she’d fallen asleep in his arms, alone in a room with him. He should’ve left her sleeping and gone back to the debriefing area, but he didn’t like the idea of her having a nightmare and waking up alone. How often did she have them? Did anyone know?

  “True, but I’m a man, Viviana, a real man who doesn’t mind getting dirty. I’m okay with cleaning up a mess. I love it dirty and messy and real.”

  “Hairless cats are real, Jud.” Her gaze narrowed. “I found the name Judson Jenson on the car rental. Is that real? It sounds fake to me.”

  Laughter tumbled from him. “Afraid so. Judson Jason Jensen.”

  “Wow. I’m thinking The Collective did you a favor scrubbing that from databases,” she muttered. “And your sister was Judith. They had a thing for J’s. They sound like interesting people.”

  “They are, the best,” he admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen them. They moved a year ago, decided to give warmer climates a try. Dad just retired, so he’s driving Mom nuts.”