Sweet Revenge

Chapter 19

Laney awoke to the smell of fresh coffee. She stretched. No bad dreams. She’d finally gotten some good sleep. Turning over, she buried her face in Matt’s pillow. His scent surrounded her, and a warming hummed in her belly. The man had slept with her last night, knowing she was afraid of the nightmares. He was one of the good guys, whether he knew it or not.

She slipped from the bed and sought socks from the dresser before heading into the attached bath to brush her teeth. She tamed her hair into a ponytail and headed out for coffee, stopping short at the sight of her living room.

All of the furniture had been pushed to the far walls, leaving a large clearing. Oh.

Matt loped out of the kitchen in sweats and nothing else. Smooth skin on his chest covered unrelenting muscle, his body moving with tightly controlled power. Sharp angles defined the tendons and muscles in his arms, and hard ridges made up his abs. His feet were bare and lent an intimacy to the moment.

Oh. Her mouth may have dropped open. Sure, she’d touched him. But she hadn’t had a moment to study him… and the guy should be admired. Her fingers tingled with the need to trace each line of those ripped muscles. To feel him over her, thrusting inside her again. Taking her over, stealing her control, making her forget the danger and the past.

The various old wounds and scars enhanced his wildness. What she wouldn’t give to jump into that storm again.

He held out a coffee cup, one eyebrow raised. “You okay?”

She wrapped her hands around the mug and nodded, not trusting her voice. Not at all.

“Good. Nice socks.” Amusement lightened his eyes to an intriguing hue.

She glanced down at the purple and blue stripes through her thick socks and swallowed a drink of the potent brew. “They’re warm.”

“Good.” He glanced around the room. “I figured we’d start training this morning before opening the bar.”

“Why?” she asked, taking another sip.

“I’ve been thinking. If you’re right, and I need to take you into the facility to use the computer, you need some training. Just in case.” The determination in his hard jawline didn’t bode well for her.

She scratched her elbow. “So this is about the mission. You training me.”

“Yes, and I need to know you won’t freeze if there’s bloodshed, because there will be blood.”

She coughed. “I won’t freeze.”

“Right. Tell me about the nightmares.” He took her mug and placed both cups on top of the entertainment center.

“No.” The idea of all of that blood made her want to vomit, and the last thing she wanted was to puke in front of him.

He stretched his torso one way and then the other. “You’re going to have to talk about whatever happened. I’m assuming it happened in the facility before you escaped.”

She jerked her gaze away from the ripple of muscle. “Yes, and considering this is strictly business, I’m not opening up to you.”

“Yes, you are.” He drew in a breath. “The only way to deal with it is to talk about it, and we don’t have a lot of time. Get your head wrapped around that truth, because next time I ask you, you’re going into share mode.”

The man had been right. He was an asshole when it came to training. Her chest already hurt. The previous night, when he’d slept in her bed, she’d thought maybe they had a chance… that he’d let go of his anger over her past. But that would mean his taking a chance, risking more than his body, and he wouldn’t do that, now would he? To cover up her hurt, she donned anger. “Don’t be so bossy. I just want to know how to punch somebody.”

“Bossy?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Baby, we’re past bossy. I’m training you, and that means you’ll obey every damn order I give.”

“Then I change my mind. No training.” She pivoted to head back into the bedroom.

And didn’t make it.

He caught her by the elbow and swung her around to face him. She gasped. His grip didn’t hurt, but the restrained fury in the hold stole her breath. “Your choice in this matter ended the second you confirmed I’d need you on this mission. You will train.”

Instinct ruled her, and she nodded.

Appeased, he released her. “What training with firearms have you had?”

“Um, none.” Her feet arched with the need to retreat.

He shook his head like a dog with a faceful of water. “Yet you own a gun? Where did you buy the gun?”

She bit her lip. “Um, at a garage sale,” she whispered.

He blinked as if she was speaking a foreign language. “Have you even fired the weapon?”

“No.” She figured she wouldn’t fire it unless she wanted to shoot somebody, and so far, she hadn’t wanted to shoot anybody. Until now. “I thought I’d shoot it when I needed to.”

He studied her like she’d grown three heads. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” Now she felt like a total dumb-ass, though it was interesting to see the unflappable Matt nearly speechless. His training with guns had probably began in the crib.

He blew out air and reclaimed her coffee cup to place on the table. “You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he muttered.

Wait a minute. “I haven’t had time to shoot.” Although she should have.

“Okay.” He loomed over her, looking more befuddled than dangerous. “Lesson one with guns… know that the one in your hand actually works.”

She sighed heavily. “I know that.” Great. Now he was going to treat her like some helpless female from the fifties.

He rubbed his chin. “You know where the bullets go, right?”

She snorted and laughed, quickly sobering. He wasn’t messing with her. “Yes.”

Relief crossed his hard face, and he nodded. “Good.”

She shook her head, wondering how to redeem herself. “If you’re finished with questioning me, maybe we should get to the hand-to-hand training.” What she wouldn’t give to knock him on his butt just once.

His gaze narrowed at her tough tone. “All right, Dr. Roberts. Or do you prefer Dr. Peters?”

“Actually, I like it when you call me baby,” she said with a smile that even felt flirty.

“Okay, baby. Stop me.” He lunged at her, a powerful man with grace.

She yelped and tried to jump away, tripping over her feet and plunging to the floor. He caught her, one hand behind her head, the other wrapping around her waist. He turned, and she landed on top of his chest, her breath rushing out. The carpet probably would’ve provided a softer landing place than his hard body. She sucked in air, trying to fill her lungs.

He lifted his head, more surprise lightening his eyes. “Your self-defense move is to yelp and fall.”

She frowned, her face an inch from his. “You took me by surprise.”

“Most attackers do,” he said wryly. His broad hand settled at the small of her back. “You’ve had no training. I mean, none.” His eyebrow quirked in shock.

The muscled angles pressed into her flesh, showcasing their differences. Where she was soft, he was hard… and she softened even more against him. “No training,” she affirmed, her voice husky. While his heart beat slow and steady beneath her, hers ran into a full gallop.

His eyes darkened. He blinked once. Slowly. That heated gaze dropped to her mouth.

Panic and anticipation raced up her spine, followed by a tingling need for self-preservation. It would be way too easy to get lost in him… to forget the danger and the fact that he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust her, nor could he be blamed for the sad fact. She knew how much he had to lose.

“Wow. You’re thinking way too hard there,” he murmured lazily.

“Our previous sexual relationship muddies the water.” Could she sound any more prim and proper? God.

His cheek creased. “Every once in a while, I can hear the Ivy League education in your voice.” He sounded more thoughtful than irritated, so she chose to accept his statement as fact instead of insult.

“I lost the doctor-speak within a few months of working with soldiers,” she said softly, gauging his reaction.

“Good. Doctor-speak scares the hell out of us.” He lost his smile even while making the joke. Yeah, there was the guy who couldn’t forget she’d worked for his nemesis. He tapped her back. “Okay. Let’s get you ready to rumble.”

She rolled off him and shoved to her feet. “I don’t want to throw a wet blanket on your plan, but if we actually break into the facility, those guards are trained. Really, really trained. The little time we have isn’t going to prepare me.”

He stretched to his feet, all male grace. “I don’t need you to take out a guard. I just need you to be able to throw any threat off balance until I can get to you.”

“To take out the guard?”

“To take out anybody in our way.” He frowned and surveyed her body. “Your strength is in your legs, so we’re going to work on kicks first. Now bend your knees.” He dropped into a fighting stance to demonstrate. “Kick me.”

She couldn’t help the small smile. “With pleasure.”

Laney masked a wince as she leaned over to slide a beer across a table. Her legs protested every movement. When Matt had warned her about training, he hadn’t been joking. They’d worked on kicks for nearly two hours before moving on to arm blocks. Her entire body felt like it had been tossed over a waterfall.

But she could kick.

The sense of power that came with knowing even a little bit of self-defense surprised her.

The bar was hopping, and most of the patrons were having a great time. Several groups of bikers milled around and brought a sense of good-natured fun to the evening. Midnight had passed, and she was counting down the minutes until closing so she could go soak in a nice, hot bath. Apparently her morning yoga routine hadn’t been getting her muscles into shape like she’d hoped.

A whistle caught her attention, and with an inward sigh, she maneuvered around tables and bodies to three men who’d just finished playing darts. They had ridden in earlier on rustic bikes and didn’t seem to know any of the regular bikers.

“What can I get you?” she asked the guy who had whistled.

He ran a hand through his beard, his gaze dropping to her chest. “What are you offering, hot lady?”

“Last call will be coming soon.” She glanced toward the large clock over the bar. Maybe the casual dress she’d worn had been a bad idea. She felt tougher in jeans. “Would you like another round?”

He sat forward in his chair, his large bulk swaying. “I’d like a round of you.” His two buddies guffawed, one of them swigging back the remnants of beer from a pitcher.

God. What morons. “Let me know if you’d like to order another drink.” She turned to bus a table.

A beefy arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled. She windmilled, losing her empty tray as she flew back into the drunk’s lap, her head thunking on his chin. Ouch. She struggled, trying to get free. He tightened his hold, cutting off her air.

“Release me,” she gasped, her eyes watering.

A pair of long legs swam into her vision, and a long-boned hand reached for the band around her ribs. The drunk released her, and Matt gently drew her up by the shoulder to place behind him. She gulped in air and tried to keep from falling into a full-blown panic attack, pressing her hand against his back to keep her balance. Muscles vibrated beneath her palm like those of a furious German shepherd.

The snap of a bone fracturing halted her hysteria. Her eyes widened as she glanced around her rescuer.

The drunk howled as Matt yanked him from the chair with the damaged hand, his face sheeting white. “You broke my wrist!”

Good Lord. Matt had twisted the man’s arm and broken his radius. The amount of force needed to do that with his bare hands was incredible. Laney latched on to his belt to pull him back.

Matt pivoted, jerked, and a loud pop filled the air before the drunk gasped and dropped back into his chair. “Your shoulder is out, too.”

Laney released him and backed up, a roaring filling her ears. “You—you yanked the head of the humerus from the socket in the glenoid fossa.”

“That’s what I said. Dislocated shoulder.” Matt kept his attention on the man now holding his arm and wheezing. “I suggest you refrain from grabbing women in the future.” Low, controlled, his voice nevertheless held a promise of certain violence.

Laney shivered.

Fingers wrapped around her arm and yanked her against a bony chest. A knife slid against her throat. “Matt—” she whispered as the entire bar fell silent.

He pivoted, his gaze shooting above her head and to the right. “I just broke your buddy’s hand for grabbing her. What do you think I’m going to do to you?” His voice softened with the deadly threat.

The body behind her trembled and tightened. “One move, and I cut her.”

Laney’s knees shook, and her vision wavered. God. Not now. Heat rushed up her body followed by chills. No panic. No panic.

Fire exploded in Matt’s eyes. “One chance. Let her go now, or I will kill you.”

So much truth lived in his words, Laney stilled. Even her panic was afraid of him.

The third guy went for Matt. Instantly, Matt dropped an elbow onto the guy’s nose and punched him in the throat, his gaze never leaving Laney’s attacker. The third man went down, his head smacking a chair on the way.

A loud swallow echoed from the man holding Laney.

The injured drunk stood, weaving as he regained his balance. He clutched his injured wrist, fear swimming in his eyes. “This is out of hand. Let’s get out of here.”

She had to concentrate to force out words. “If you let me go right now, I won’t let him hurt you. I promise.”

The man’s breath hitched. Silence ticked tension-filled seconds. The knife slowly moved away from her throat, and the guy pushed her at Matt. Then he leaned down and hauled up his friend, who was gasping for air.

Matt caught her, smoothly setting her behind him. “You have five seconds to get out of this bar. If I ever see you again, no matter where, I’m breaking your neck in two. I promise.” Anticipation lifted his consonants.

The three men quickly fled the bar.

Matt looked around at the quiet occupants. “Bar’s closed. Go home.”

People scattered like dropped nickels, heading for every exit. With minutes, the place was empty save for Matt, Laney, and Smitty.

Smitty rubbed his chin from behind the bar. “Holy shit, you can clear a room.”

Matt turned and grasped Laney’s elbows. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, swallowing several times. The panic lingered just out of reach and waited to strike.

He drew her into his chest, into safety, and rubbed from her neck to her tailbone and back up. “Deep breaths, baby. Take the air in, hold it for five seconds, and then let it go.” His warm palm continued to soothe her as she followed his orders. Finally, the buzzing in her head abated.

She stepped back. “I, um, forgot everything you taught me earlier.” Not even a hint of an idea had occurred to her to kick or punch the first guy who’d grabbed her. She had just struggled like a flopping fish.

Matt brushed a piece of hair back from her cheek. “One day of training doesn’t make you ready. You did fine.”

Tears pricked the back of her eyes. After seeing what violence he could easily employ, his sweetness toward her was almost too much. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you.” A twist of his lips showed a vulnerability he probably thought he hid.

“I wasn’t scared of you.” Something in her wanted to comfort him.

He ran a thumb across her cheekbone in a soft caress. His gaze lingered on her eyes, as if trying to reassure himself she was now all right. “Yes you were scared, and your instincts are good. I was created to be violent even before I learned to fight. Killing is in my DNA.” Sadness and regret darkened his eyes to a mysterious gray.

“No.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. He’d taken over and protected his younger brothers in an honorable way he’d learned on his own. She couldn’t allow him to think poorly about himself. “DNA is an acid—heredity material that determines traits like hair color… maybe strength. Killing is a choice, and one you didn’t make tonight. You let those morons go.” Going on instinct, she stepped into his space and cupped his strong jaw. His rough shadow tickled her hand. “You’re more than they made you to be—much more. Don’t let them win. Not now, when you’re so close.”

He closed his eyes and turned his head to place a soft kiss on her palm. “I wanted to kill them, Laney. The second they put their hands on you, I was all right with ending their lives.”

The fierce words spiraled down deep into her heart and took hold. He cared about her, and he wanted to protect her. Nobody had ever tried to protect her. “Why didn’t you?” she asked, wondering at the pain riding his words.

“Because you were behind me, and I didn’t want you to see me kill.” His eyes flashed open, so much pain revealed that she caught her breath. Then he drew down the veil. “I easily could’ve ended them, and I wouldn’t have lost a minute of sleep for it.”

He would’ve killed for her, and the thought brought a primitive thrill. Being loved by a man like Matt Dean would carry risks and responsibility. She stiffened and dropped her hand. Where in the world had that come from? He didn’t love her, and he never would. A sharp pang slashed into her heart. “Thank you anyway for saving me.” She bent to retrieve her tray from the floor. “Let’s finish and get cleaned up.” Keeping her gaze away from him, she gathered glasses and empty bottles to take to the bar.

“Laney.” His deep voice stopped her, and she turned around. His gaze was thoughtful, knowing. “We need to talk about this. Whatever it is between us, we need to talk… and I mean tonight.”