Master No (Masters and Mercenaries, #9)(2)

Dawn had, but he’d been too stupid to see the predator behind those soft eyes.

“They’re sleeping right now, but in an hour or two, they’ll be ready for another round. You don’t look like you’re ready, lover,” she said in a low voice.

He watched, those f*ck-me shoes coming ever closer. Just a little bit more.

“Won’t break,” he said, slurring his words only a bit more than he actually needed to. He was kind of far-gone. The meditation techniques he used only kept the pain and suffering away for so long, and he needed to be in the moment now. She was overly confident that he couldn’t do any damage.

He was going to prove her wrong.

“Damn, your body was already scarred. Now you’re pretty much one massive scar. It’s unattractive, you know. You’re quite good in bed, but I had to close my eyes and pretend you’re not a monster. You’re ruined. I honestly don’t know how anyone looks at you after this. At least they’ve left your face alone.”

She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t know. He was scarred, his body bearing the marks of long years of abuse, neglect, and accidents. Now he had burns from electricity torture and that damn poker they’d put through his side. That would be a beauty if he managed to survive it.

“All you have to do is give my group the information they need and this will all be over, Tennessee.” She’d softened her voice, and he felt her hand on his back.

He tensed but didn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but hurt her in this position. He wouldn’t mind hurting her, but breaking a couple of bones wouldn’t solve his problem. Physics. He needed height and momentum to get out of this situation, and he couldn’t get it where he was.

She needed to feel safe around him. Needed to forget that a wounded predator was often at his most dangerous right before death.

He let out a shuddering breath and allowed his head to fall back.

She chuckled and traced the new scars. “Poor Ten. All you needed was a little affection from a woman and you caved. I was told you were the hardass, the mighty Ten Smith, Agency golden boy. A few kind words, some regular sex, and you’re a man like the rest of them. Tell me something. Where is your meet with Taggart scheduled for?”

Shit. She was after Ian Taggart. Well, naturally. Tag was one of his latest recruits, a man who was already a damn legend due to his years with the Green Berets. Tag was working another side of this operation and they were scheduled to meet…how long had he been here? God, he couldn’t remember but it couldn’t be more than a night. So he was supposed to meet Tag this morning in a teashop on the edge of Riyadh.

“I’m not meeting Tag for a few days,” he managed.

He bit back a scream as she pushed a finger against one of the wounds on his back.

“That’s a lie, Ten. I know you’re supposed to meet him some time in the next few hours. We’re not far from our apartment. You wouldn’t have scheduled a meet more than thirty minutes away. I’ve learned all your habits.”

He’d kept the meetings close because he hadn’t wanted to leave her for long. They were in a dangerous situation and she was his partner, his lover. He wouldn’t call it love. He didn’t get that dumbass grin on his face the way Jamie did, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t capable of the emotion. But Dawn had been his to take care of, and that meant something to him. Or rather it had. “Tag couldn’t make it this morning. He’s got a meeting with a man who can lead us to an arms dealer. I told him to take it.”

How long would Tag wait before he called it in? Tag was smart. He was probably the best operative Ten had ever trained. He would still likely be too late. Even if Tag called Jamie and Jamie started looking for him, there was no way they found him. The first thing Dawn had done was to remove the subcutaneous tracking devices they had both accepted. A surgeon had removed hers. She’d simply torn his back open with a knife to get his. Another scar.

No. Taggart would be too late no matter how good he was. It would take him days to get the kind of crew they would need to track and find him.

If the Agency came after him at all. More than likely they would put his name on the wall and forget Tennessee Smith ever existed. He would be one more cautionary tale told to junior operatives. Jamie would take over Ten’s post and the world would keep right on turning.

If he was going to live, it was up to him. He was alone, but then he’d always been alone.

“Should I tell you what they’re planning for you today?” Dawn asked.

“Nope. I like surprises.” She was moving behind him. He was hyperaware, as though time was slowing and he was waiting for that one perfect moment.

“Such a liar.” Her shoes thudded against the concrete. She came into his peripheral vision. Thank god he still had that. At one point his vision had been so fuzzy he would have sworn it wasn’t coming back. Now the adrenaline was pumping again and he was clear. “Let me make this plain to you. I don’t get paid if you don’t give these *s something to work with. Give them Taggart. He’s gotten too close to their base of operations. These are men who don’t like their ties to terrorism to be published. They like the dark. If you give them Taggart, I think I might be able to save you.”

He was the liar?

“How much?” He had to get her in the exact right position. Everything had to be perfect or he would miss the chance. God, could he even make his body move the way he needed it to?