Enemy Mine (The Base Branch Series Book 1) (12 page)

“
W
hat in the
holy fuck happened to you?” Devereaux bellowed.

Every head in the dining room snapped to attention, eyes a little wide as they searched out the cause of their master’s displeasure. Sloan watched too as Baine walked to the table where she’d been seated for nearly ten minutes. The ease with which his hips rolled and his shoulders swaggered gave no hint of the beating he’d endured earlier. His face, however, told another story. It appeared camouflaged in lop-sided tactical paint. Black bruises underlined his left eye and peeked out from under his hair on the right side of his forehead. The cut, having scabbed over, blended with his eyebrow pretty well. The marks had darkened significantly since he left her at the door to her room nearly three hours earlier.

“I tripped and fell. Isn’t that what Mom used to say?” Baine answered.

The razor’s edge of his voice and the words they conveyed whittled at Sloan’s heart some more. Whether consciously or not, Baine had been carving himself a home in her chest all afternoon. All her life, really. But today the whittling ramped up. He’d protected her, even when she didn’t need protecting. Though he had the ability to tip her on her ear, like he’d done last night, he also had the ability to ground her. He gave her a sense of long sought peace and quieted her demons.

Now, if they could just vanquish their snarling creator. “Don’t get smart with me, boy. Your mother earned every punishment she received.”

Sloan’s left hand clenched so tightly in her lap her close-cropped fingernails cut into her palm. She waited for Baine’s to do the same, but none of his rage showed as he eased into the high back chair next to her. He dragged the napkin off the gold-rimmed plate and smoothed it onto his lap. Calm and collected. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on his father.

“As did I?” Baine asked the callous man.

“Someone had to rid you of your fanciful notions. Aren’t you glad I did? Look at the fine man you’ve become.” Devereaux leaned forward, squinted then added, “Minus the wreck of your face.”

“Damn,” Baine said with an
aw-shucks
snap of his fingers. “There goes my modeling career.”

Devereaux scoffed. “Whoever beat you should have done a better job.”

“You can give him some pointers. Learn from the best, they say,” Baine shrugged.

“Enough,” Devereaux said. The plates and silverware bounced in front of him as his fist gave his order exclamation. His gaze shot straight to Sloan. She did her best to breathe and smile. “Though I have an idea about what went on in my own home. Tell me now, what happened.”

As they’d planned, Baine didn’t acknowledge her, even with Devereaux’s wicked gaze cursing her for living. He signaled Lawrence with a nod. “The usual.” As the
more-than-a-butler
butler bowed and turned, giving her his signature wink, Baine smiled. “I stepped on your dog’s tail. So, I let him take a swing.”

“Or three,” Devereaux said. His head shook as he spoke. “I’m tired of playing referee to an adolescent game of ass chasing. We have far more important things to deal with.”

“I realize that, Father, which is why Kobi and I are square. Aren’t we?” Baine asked the man in question as he entered the room. “There are no hard feelings, are there?”

Kobi’s gaze bounced back and forth between Baine, Sloan, and Devereaux, ignoring the other five people in the room. Finally his roving eyes settled on his boss. The pitiful man’s jaw puffed like it’d been stuffed with cotton. It muffled his words, but no more so than his drinking had the previous night.

“No, sir. We’re just ready to make this deal happen for you, Mr. Kendrick. And I want to say how sorry I am for the other night. I don’t know what got into me, but I can guarantee it won’t happen again. I’m about business.”

As Kobi nuzzled up to Devereaux’s plump butt cheeks, Baine slipped his hand up her thigh, straight to her core, where he slipped his finger into the lace of her panties. The boldness and shock of his action, especially since they’d talked about being hands off as to not draw attention to her or get anything started with Kobi, released the first wave of adrenaline from the gates. It galloped like a ’roided gelding from her crotch and plowed smack into her heart, causing it to ripple from the impact.

Just as quickly, his hand retreated to the scotch glass without the least wiggle on her clit or nod of acknowledgement. Curiosity and frustration rolled through her until she shifted in her seat and felt it. Something was in the crotch of her panties. Small and thin, but definitely a foreign object.

Man, she’d passed information a whole number of ways, but this one took the cake.

The men had lapsed into serious discussion about a shipment of weapons due to drop soon. Sloan would kill to know the when, where, what, and how of the deal. It sounded huge, and if a shipment like that succeeded, a whole lot of people would suffer. But this was her cue to move. She’d have to trust Baine to relay the details or find them out for herself when she got the damn black book.

Anticipation tickled her fingers as she rose from the table. Talk about wish fulfillment. She was about to accomplish a goal she’d worked toward for twenty-plus years.

“Can I help you, miss?” Lawrence asked. His formidable bulk towered over her.

“Sure. Point me in the direction of the nearest ladies room,” she said.

“Through the double doors, down the corridor, first door on the left,” he said with a smile. “Hurry back.”

“Absolutely,” she nodded.

Down the hallway Sloan had to yank the reins in on herself a few times like a jockey holding back his eager horse. Her legs itched to run and her heart beat fast enough to supply oxygenated blood for the action.
Poom. Poom. Poom. Poom
.

She strolled into the bathroom, taking note of the cameras positioned at each end of the course with a casual glance. On the other side of the door Sloan kicked off her heels and stuffed them behind a potted plant. She removed the knife from her purse frame and slid it into the leather already strapped to her thigh then fished a tiny piece of paper out of her underpants.

A twelve-digit code spoiled the otherwise blank white parchment. Sloan vibrated with excitement. It started deep in her chest and radiated out to her fingertips.
How in the world had he gotten the code
? With zero time to ponder the question, she memorized the series, ripped it into bits, and washed it down the sink. She scooted the last piece down the drain then continued preparing.

Out of the clutch’s belly she pulled a small hook pick and shoved it into the front of her dress. She abandoned the electronic panel she would have used to crack the safe. The thing was too big to fit in her cleavage and since she had the code, she’d just as soon have her hands free to move. The radio jammer came last. She flipped it on, just in case things went sideways, secured it inside the bag, and shoved it out of sight with her shoes. All the while she’d been counting the camera sweeping sequence in her head on ten second intervals. So far she’d only lapsed two rounds.

At
seven
she placed her ear on the door, straining to hear any sounds beyond.
Nine
. Sloan held her breath and cracked the door, scanning the parts she could see. All clear. On
ten
she bolted midway up the corridor. Crossed to Devereaux’s door.
One. Two. Three.
After a well-placed pick the lock gave and Sloan swooped into the office, closing the door and locking it behind her.

After hours of studying the layout in her mind she moved surely through the room. Passing between two wingback chairs and a massive antique desk, she reached the exquisite painting at the end of the room. A woman with a flowing golden mane leaned her palms on a railing. The elegant gown and ethereal setting of lush green trees and bright red flowers did nothing to hide the sadness in her tight smile and dull eyes. She assumed the woman was Baine’s late mother, Elizabeth McCord.

Sloan tested the frame, running a hand along the edges. With a firm tug the right side swung wide. The safe lay behind it nestled into the wall. The proverbial pot-o-gold. It didn’t glitter. The gunmetal-grey soaked up the light, but the computerized keypad and screen sure sparkled. Her fingers glided over the keys, striking off the memorized numbers in a steady rhythm.

She would have sworn the world stopped spinning for a suspended moment in time as the screen went black while analyzing the data. Her entire body stilled in a second of wild certainty.

The screen flashed the words
Incorrect Passcode
.

“
I
f you needed a patsy
, Kobi would’ve been ideal. But I guess you found a better one. Taking down a Branch Agent will make Papa proud and give you a fall guy, or girl, as the case may be.

“I can’t believe I trusted you. You have more secrets than the CIA. You’re obviously no lawyer. I mean, what lawyer can fight like a pro, shoot like a trained sniper, and kill without remorse,” Sloan bit.

Baine eased the bathroom door closed and raised his hand in surrender. “I have never and will never betray you.”

He took a hesitant step forward. Sloan’s hand tightened on the custom 9mm she’d found in his safe. The twenty-eight-round clip the monster held would be enough to take out everyone in the house. Wisely, Baine stopped advancing and even stepped back where he’d been.

“I couldn’t stop a herd of women from leaving the dining room on their sacred bathroom ritual without being suspect. Since you had the code I expected you’d have already retrieved the book and been back in the bathroom. I figured you’d have been rushed to get back to rights, but I knew you’d manage.

“Now, put the bloody gun down and let’s authenticate the book, so we can get changed and move before Devereaux notices it’s missing.”

She may as well have handed him the gun and let him drill one shot in the center of her chest. His deception hit her square between the eyes like a sledgehammer’s blow. The choice to trust Baine ripped her psyche to shreds. The choice to love Baine decimated her heart like the coastal lands in a typhoon’s path. Though really, her feelings for him hadn’t been a choice, but a reaction she’d been helpless to stop, like the winds and roaring waters.

“It was always about the book for you, wasn’t it?” Sloan didn’t know why she asked. She didn’t expect anything from him but death. Whether slow and painful or fast and unnoticed.

His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. “Damn it, Sloan. It is only about the book for me as much at it is for you. If we don’t take this book from my father, he’ll use it to kill more people and claim more territories.”

“You only want to take his place. That’s why you made certain I wasn’t in the room when you discussed the next shipment. It’s why you gave me the wrong code.” Her voice pitched as she spoke and she was helpless to hold back the volume or her cursed tears.

Baine’s eyes widened. “What do you mean,
wrong code
?” He stepped forward then, seemingly oblivious to the weapon she had trained on his heart. “Did you get the book?”

“No,” she hollered, “because I trusted you. I left my tools and you sent those whores to the bathroom so I wouldn’t have time to get it.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, but he didn’t attack. Baine stood there looking at her, his jaw slack like he didn’t know what to say. His lips closed and his features softened.

Baine dropped to his knee before her. His brilliant blue gaze never left her face as he grabbed his holstered pistols between two fingers and laid them at her feet. “Sia Kolat Johnson, first-born daughter of Sylva Kolat and Daniel Johnson, first friend and only love of mine…I have never, and will never, betray you.”

Sloan hadn’t heard her given name since the day her parents were taken from her. In the protection of her father’s arms, he hid her face from the unmentionable things the soldiers did to her mother. But he couldn’t block her mother’s screams. So, rocking Sloan gently against his chest, her dad whispered the mantra over and again: “Sia Kolat Johnson, you are loved. You are loved. You are loved.”

The weight of the memory and the weight of Baine’s words brought her to her knees. The pistol slid from her hand. “You knew. This whole time, you knew,” she marveled, her voice as thin as a reed.

Baine collected her in his arms and held tight. His warmth encompassed her and his lips brushed her forehead and hair.

“When we met as children, I had no idea what my father did. I knew what he did to me and my mother, but I had no clue about the atrocities he’d committed. I wish I had known. I wish I’d cared to know where his wealth came from, but I was away at school. I only saw him on holidays and then I spent my time avoiding him.

“I fantasized later about what I would have done, if I’d known what he did to your family. I was only eight and couldn't have done anything to help you. Hell, I couldn’t even help myself when he got angry. And your parents were already dead, but if I could have saved you, I would have.”

His hands smoothed over her arms and back as he continued, the words tumbling from his lips. They hurt and soothed at the same time. Emotions whirled. Tears crashed onto her cheek.

“It wasn’t until college that I began digging. I questioned my mom and she always cautioned me to let it go, that it wasn’t safe. But I pushed relentlessly. Finally, she told me out of fear I would do something to catch my father’s notice.

“There were no words to describe the hate I had for the blood flowing through my veins.

“My mother hated my father and planned to leave only a year after they were married. She found out she was pregnant shortly after, but kept it a secret. Devereaux Kendrick has many on his payroll. The doctor she saw happened to be one of them. My father told her if she attempted to keep any other secrets from him, he would cut the baby from her belly, and if she tried to leave him, he would kill everyone she’d ever held dear. So, she stayed. I still can’t agree with her actions, but I wasn’t in her shoes either.

Baine’s chest heaved against her cheek.

“I demanded we find proof and go to the government. She was terrified of my father, of what he’d do to us for betraying him. But she agreed. And then he killed her.”

Sloan twisted in Baine’s arms and wrapped her own around his torso. She hugged him to her, longing to give him some of the comfort he gave. There were still so many things she didn’t understand about Baine Kendrick. So many questions to be answered. Sloan’s gut told her this man was good, despite everything he’d been through, despite the tainted blood that gave him life. In spite of every shred of intel she had on him. And her heart agreed completely. Her head, for once, gave itself over to the other ruling governs of her body.

Baine’s knuckle tipped her chin up and she drank in his face. The harshness of this formidable man softened and Sloan caught not a glimpse of the caring boy she’d once known, but of the loving man he’d become. His eyes shimmered like a clear lake with unshed tears. The constant rigidity of his jaw hung slack as he stared at her with an expression close to…wonder, maybe.

Sloan closed the small distance between them and fused her mouth to his. Baine gave himself completely, letting her own him. Her lips pushed against his, molding their pliant silk to her own. Slowly, she nibbled his bottom lip and eased her tongue inside his mouth. Warmth enveloped her seeking tongue. Swiping and tasting, over and over she caressed him while his strong arms held her to him.

His words danced in her head. Perfect sentiments in an imperfect world. Her heart floated on hope she’d banished long ago. For if this man could love her, if he could be a shadow of the compassionate kid she’d known, then she would do anything to help him remove his father from power and even more to try and keep him in her life. Self-protection and caution be damned.

Cool air drifted over Sloan’s wet lips as Baine pulled back, bracing both strong palms against her shoulders. His eyes were fiery blue and more intense than she’d ever seen, and for this man, this force of nature, that was saying something.

“I planted a camera in his office before I left for D.C. The code I gave you was the code he used yesterday. He must have rolling codes, which means he has a device feeding him the sequence. We have to find it. We have to find the code and get that damn book.”

Baine’s right hand moved to cradle the nape of her neck. He smothered kisses over her cheek and the bridge of her nose.

“We will take everything from my father for what he did to your family, my mother, and the thousands of others he’s hurt. Your attempt on the safe will show on his report. But remember,” he cupped her face and held it, making laser-straight eye contact. “You’re mine. You belong to me and I belong to you. Above all, I will protect you.”