Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(66)

I shrugged. “Not everyone has a Deirdre.”

“So why do you try to pretend you’re not related to your dad?” he asked as I layered chicken and vegetables in a pan.

“Yeah, how long have you known about that?” Parker had even spoken to my parents before, but I hadn’t realized he’d known the truth.

“Since you were hired.”

That got my attention. I slid the pan into the oven and set the timer. “You’ve never said anything.”

“I am now. So what was it? Too many people wanting handouts? Friends who weren’t really your friends? Favors you never wanted, but then they expected something in return?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” I replied. “All of the above. I just wanted to be … normal, for a change. Make it on my own.”

“I’m surprised your dad didn’t have more to say about it.”

“My dad is self-made. I think he understands. But he still insists on helping out here and there. I don’t mind. They’re my parents and I love them. It makes them feel better to know I live in a decent place, that I’m safe.”

“And how would they feel if they knew you were putting yourself in danger by refusing protective custody?” he asked.

I reached for a bottle of wine. Way better than beer. “It’s my life, Parker. My decision.” I twisted the opener into the cork and tried pulling it out. It wouldn’t budge.

“What happens to you affects everyone who cares about you,” he said, taking the bottle from me. “So not just your life. Not really.” He pulled, easily leveraging out the cork, then handed the bottle back to me.

“Ditto,” I shot back, shooing McClane away from sniffing the counter. As if I was going to hide away like a coward while Ryker and Parker were putting their lives on the line.

My cell rang and I dug it out of my purse and answered.

“Dear Sage, how are you? I heard you’ve had a couple of close calls recently.”

The sound of Viktor’s thick Russian accent in my ear made me stiffen and my gaze flew to Parker’s. He knew instantly something was wrong.

“Why are you doing this?” I hissed. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

“Your boss did, and where I come from, payback is always personal.”

The cell was suddenly snatched from my hand.

“You have something to say to Sage, you say it to me,” Parker growled into the phone.

I watched his face as he listened, his expression a mask of cold fury.

“You want her, you’re going to have to come through me.” He ended the call, then turned off the phone.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked.

“I don’t trust those Russian hackers,” he said. “You’d be amazed at what they could do with a cell signal, including finding you. We’ll get you a burner phone tomorrow.” At my questioning look, he clarified. “Untraceable.”

“What did he say to you?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

“You don’t want to know.” Grabbing the wine bottle, he poured us each a glass. Taking his, he went into the living room. I picked up mine and followed him.

A familiar tension marked the lines of his body as he perused the shelves along one wall, and I wasn’t sure if he was really seeing the books that lined the shelves or was still thinking about Viktor.

Dinner was done before long—a blend of roasted chicken and veggies with olive oil, fresh rosemary and thyme—and I dished it up, serving us both on the small dining room table. Both of us seemed lost in our own thoughts as we ate. I was worried about Ryker, and the call from Viktor had scared me more than I wanted to admit. McClane lay at my feet, hoping for a scrap to fall, his big brown eyes following my every movement.

“It’s ironic,” Parker said after he’d had a few bites. “The first meal you’ve ever cooked for me … is in Ryker’s house.”

It was an odd thing to say, lending more meaning and intimacy to the impromptu dinner than I’d considered.

“Well, how is it?” I asked. He’d eaten nearly half his plate already, so I was assuming I knew the answer to that one.

“You could give Deirdre a run for her money.”

I was absurdly pleased at the compliment, prompted though it may have been. He’d mentioned Ryker, though, and I wondered if he had him on the brain as much as I did.

“I hope you and Ryker can patch things up,” I said. “And I’m sorry he brought me into it. I’ve tried to tell him you’re just my boss, but …” I shrugged, at a loss as to what to say.

“Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Just your boss.”

The blue of his eyes seemed deeper in the soft lighting as he gazed at me, waiting for my answer. We were sitting across from each other, but given how small Ryker’s table was, he was still too close.

“What do you want from me, Parker?” I asked tiredly, setting down my fork. My appetite was suddenly gone.

McClane began to growl, easing up onto his haunches as he stared into the darkened hallway. My panicked gaze went from him to Parker, who was already up, gun in hand.

“Call off the dog, Parker. It’s me.” A man stepped around the corner and I recognized him as the CIA agent who’d been undercover as an assassin for Viktor. His real name was Sasha.