Soldier For Hire

His lids had only just closed when he heard a familiar voice.

“You’re getting sloppy, Scott.”

His eyes opened slowly to find Scarlett standing in the aisle, looking pissed and deadly as hell. He wanted to say she wouldn’t shoot him in front of all these passengers but he was willing to guess her trigger finger was damn itchy after what he’d done.

Damn it. He should’ve rented a car. “You going to stand there all day? You’re gumming up traffic.”

Scarlett smirked as she swung into the seat beside him, flashing her ticket at him. “Looks like we’re travel buddies.”

He eyed her warily. “Yeah? And how do you figure that?”

Scarlett leaned toward him, her voice lowered to a sexy rumble. “Well, it seems this is your lucky day, Scott. I’m going to see for myself if your story is total bullshit. If it turns out you’re innocent, I get a valuable member of my team back. If it turns out you’re a damn liar, I get to put you away. Either way, it’s a win for me. So yeah, buckle up, baby, you’ve got yourself a travel buddy.”

Awww hell. He didn’t want Scarlett riding shotgun with him on this adventure but the way he saw it, he didn’t have much of a choice. Either he accepted Scarlett’s dubious help or he tried to ditch her again and spend the entire time looking over his shoulder for one angry TL who was a crack shot.

Yeah, seemed better to play nice.

Xander chuckled and shrugged. “Guess it is my lucky day. The team on board with this?”

“I wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”

He didn’t want to seem like a sap but it meant something that the team was willing to take a chance on him. He jerked a nod and sent his gaze out the small window, needing a minute to collect himself. He wasn’t usually a crier but this hit all the feels in all the tender spots.

“You going to cry?” Scarlett asked, frowning. “Pull yourself together or I’ll put a bullet in your kneecap.”

He laughed, not entirely sure that she was joking. “How’s that head of yours?”

“Pounding like a mother. You clocked me good and don’t think for a second that I’m not going to pay you back for that one.”

“Oh, I know you will.”

“Good.”

Maybe he was an asshole but he took a certain amount of pride for getting the jump on Scarlett. She was TL for a reason—shrewd, smart and always on target—Scarlett didn’t mess around. “Admit it... I got you good,” Xander couldn’t resist teasing, even though he knew poking at Scarlett was like poking at an angry bear.

She leveled a short look his way and changed the subject. All business. “What’s your plan?” she asked.

“My plan? Well, presently, I plan to sleep. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been on the run for the past week and a half and it hasn’t exactly been a vacation filled with rest and relaxation.”

“Boo-hoo. You shouldn’t have run in the first place.” She had zero sympathy. “If you would’ve trusted your team, we could’ve handled this the right way. Now we have to do things the wrong way and that means it’s going to be ten times harder than it needs to be.”

“Yeah? So turning myself in would’ve been the right way? What makes you think that I wouldn’t have met an untimely end while in custody? Something tells me that whoever is framing me isn’t real keen on having me around for long. Dead men tell no tales and all that.”

She conceded his point. “Still, you made it worse by running. You could’ve at least told me.”

There was something behind her curt response that tugged at his conscience. Did Scarlet have feelings? And if so, had he inadvertently stepped on them? To be real, that was more disconcerting than the idea of being framed. “Yeah well, hindsight and all that. Kinda hard to think rationally when you’re being framed for a crime you didn’t commit.”

“Copy that,” Scarlett acknowledged with a solemn nod, then added, “But you have to believe in your team. You know that without the strength of your team behind you, a mission is bound to fail. You panicked—and that’s exactly what a rookie would do.”

He disagreed. “You call it panic—I call it calculated self-defense. I wasn’t about to give up my control and walk into a potential ambush like a lamb to slaughter. Sorry, it is what it is, but that ain’t happening.”

The idea of walking meekly into anything remotely close to what Scarlett had been suggesting made his balls shrivel up.

Scarlett could tell he wasn’t going to budge and she wasn’t going to waste the energy, which was good because he was done talking about it anyway. Pulling his ball cap down low, he folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

“You’re really going to sleep?”

“Mmmhhmmm.”

“Damn it, Xander. We need a strategy.”

“No, I need sleep. It’s two and a half hours to Oklahoma. Cool your jets until we land. Read a magazine or something.”

Scarlett exhaled in irritation, muttering under her breath, “You’re making it real hard to remember why I’m putting my ass on the line for you.”

He smirked from beneath his ball cap. Because I’m the best dick you’ve ever had, baby. In the interest of self-preservation...he kept that comment to himself.

Scarlett was fuming.

She narrowed her gaze at Xander—who, by the way, was already lightly snoring as if he were sacked out in the Hilton and not folded into an economy seat two sizes too small for his solid frame—and wanted to shove him out the plug door.

And if she took a moment to enjoy the image of Xander flailing from the plane at thirty-thousand feet elevation, she didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, mostly because her head hurt and that was squarely Xander’s fault.

She’d purposely purchased the seat next to her so that no one else would be sitting in close quarters to them; the last thing she needed was some yahoo eavesdropping on their conversation.

But as it turned out, the extra seat was unnecessary. Well, Xander was going to pay her back for that extra seat, seeing as she’d purchased it with her own money.

Almost three hours to kill and Xander was off to la-la land, sleeping like the dead. Scarlett grabbed the in-flight magazine and thumbed through it, not really looking at anything in particular, just using it as a distraction.

But her mind was difficult to distract.

Part of the reason she suffered from insomnia.

Her brain didn’t recognize the “off” switch.

And one of the memories her brain liked to chew on was that night with Xander.

First, it had been an epic mistake. Let’s just get that out of the way right now.

Second, it had been the best sex of her life.

Third, she had been pretty drunk so it was possible her recollection of the event couldn’t be trusted.

Yet, knowing that she’d been sauced didn’t seem to water down what she did remember.

Xander, his body crisscrossed with scars and tattoos—she was a sucker for both—with muscle cording that solid frame like he’d been carved from stone and his hands, calloused and rough like a real man’s should be, touching her bare skin with urgency.

Yeah, that kind of loving was hard to forget.

It didn’t help that she’d been in a bit of a drought, either—did three years qualify as a drought or a cry for help?—and she’d been about ready to hump the table leg.

The liquor had only made that need for human contact worse.

Most people didn’t understand their job, how ending an assignment successfully is an adrenaline rush unlike any drug and if that adrenaline wasn’t channeled, it turned restless, which with their demons, was dangerous.

Blowing off steam was a necessity, not a luxury. Usually, she went off on her own but that night she’d needed companionship.

She’d known better than to drink with the guys, especially Xander, but she’d been weak. There was no way to pretty that up and she hated that she’d succumbed to her baser needs with barely a fight.

But there’d always been something between her and Xander, that tiny spark that was hard to ignore. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief most days made her stomach tremble and when that intensity swiveled her way, she about melted in the most feminine way imaginable.

And it freaked her out.

Scarlett was more comfortable with the prospect of shooting people than opening up to another human being. Being vulnerable—no, thanks.

So why’d she let down her guard with Xander? Hell, she wished she knew. Maybe if she’d gone home that night, she would’ve spent some quality time with her vibrator and then gone to bed alone. Maybe if that’d been her course of action, she wouldn’t be threatening her career for a man who may or may not be guilty.

She glanced over at him. He seemed pretty chill for a guy who was on the run but that was Xander’s gift. He never crumbled under pressure—a quality she admired—but would it kill him to show just a smidge of human emotion. His life was on the line, for crying out loud.

Not even a thank-you for risking her ass for his. Typical Xander, but she couldn’t complain too much. He hadn’t asked for her help or for her involvement. She bought tickets to this shit show all on her own.

Scarlett blew out a short breath, shaking her head as she replaced the magazine in the mesh compartment on the backside of the seat in front of her.

The thing about alcohol, it did more than drop panties... It dropped walls.

Walls that were there for a reason.

Scarlett shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with her memories.

How much had she told him about her past? The night was an erotic blur for the most part but she remembered lying in his arms afterward, a feeling of safety overriding her usual need for distance.

It had left her with a vague sense of disquiet, wondering if she was missing out on something potentially great. But by morning, all that had remained was the intense need to forget any of it had happened.

Shaking off the memory, Scarlett returned to her present situation.

She didn’t have access to the internet or her notes on the Tulsa case. Maybe she ought to follow Xander’s lead and take a short snooze.

Right after she downed some whiskey and a few aspirin for her pounding headache. She rubbed at her temples, casting a dark look at her snoozing travel companion. How was it even possible that Xander slept like the dead as if nothing were troubling him?

She’d need a horse tranquilizer to achieve that level of relaxation.

Signaling the flight attendant, she ordered her whiskey, tossed a few aspirin to the back of her throat and settled in for a quick catnap.

When she opened her eyes again, Xander was already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, preparing for the landing. Damn, had she really slept hours in a blink? Scarlett wiped at her eyes and tried to get her bearings.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Xander teased. “I thought you were going to sleep through the landing.”

“It must be the head injury,” she groused, sending him a dark look. “How close are we to landing?”

“About ten minutes.”

Scarlett checked her watch to confirm. “A few minutes off schedule but not bad.”

“We hit some turbulence and wind resistance.”

She nodded, secretly glad she’d slept through that. As many times as she’s flown and jumped from an airplane on missions, she wasn’t a fan of flying and always white-knuckled the bumpy spots.

Whenever Scarlett felt out of her element, she clung to training. “When we land, we’ll rent a car and get a hotel off the main path. Somewhere without a lot of traffic.”

Xander leveled his gaze her way. “Look, I appreciate you willing to come and see this thing through with me but you’re off the clock.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re not my TL right now. This is my detail and I call the shots. If you can’t do that, you might as well take the next flight back to McClean.”

“So you’re saying you’re in charge,” Scarlett summed up, amused and a little wary. “You’re the boss.”

“Exactly.”

Scarlett wasn’t on company time, so technically Xander was right. Although on the flip side, she was doing him a favor by not clapping him in iron bracelets, so a little respect wasn’t out of order.

She supposed it was better to work side by side than against one another, especially if they had the same goal, so she conceded with a nod. However, she didn’t hesitate to add, “If it turns out you’re guilty, I’m going to take you down.”

“I would expect nothing less, but I’m not guilty so I’m not worried.”

“I guess that’s what we’ll find out.”

Xander shrugged. “Yep.”

As the plane began its descent, Scarlett wondered if she was putting her faith in a really good conman or a man who had demons but was ultimately innocent.

The clock was ticking.

Please be innocent. I don’t want to have to arrest or kill you.

Chapter 5

He hadn’t planned on a travel buddy, but he was happy to have Scarlett with him while he figured this cluster out. Scarlett was a worthy adversary. The last thing he needed was her chasing after him while he tried to save his own ass.

“So how long do I have before the FBI starts sending in the goons?” he asked as they climbed into the rental car.

“A week.”

“How’d you manage to get a week?” he asked, impressed.

“I pulled some favors.”

“For little ol’ me? I’m touched.”

Scarlett cut him a wry look. “Don’t be. This is about Red Wolf, too. This situation makes all of us look bad. Especially me. People are already questioning my skills because of this situation. How’d I not know that one of my own was a psychopath? All anyone had to do was pull your psych eval and it was all over. Your file reads like a tragedy waiting to happen.”

Xander remembered his last evaluation. He hadn’t exactly been cooperative but then the doctor hadn’t exactly been warm and friendly. “That doc was an uptight prick. I wouldn’t trust anything in that report as fact.”

Scarlett shrugged with mild disagreement as she ticked off a few of the bullet points. “I don’t know... Unsociable, problem with authority, adrenaline junkie... Sounds about right.”

“Some might say those are my good qualities.”

“Only an idiot would say that.”

Xander scowled. “Yeah? Well, nowhere on that report does it say I’m a danger to society. There’s no law against being an asshole.”

“True enough. So let’s just get to brass tacks... Why would someone want to frame you for McQuarry’s death?”

Xander wished he knew. Unfortunately, the list of people who might hate him was probably longer than the list of people who would throw some water on him if he were on fire. A sergeant had once told him, You got a way of pissing people off, and he hadn’t been wrong.

“I don’t know,” he answered, navigating downtown Tulsa traffic. “But I aim to find out and when I find the bastard, I’m going to show him the error of his ways.”

“What makes you think it was a man?” Scarlett retorted and Xander had to admit, it could be a woman screwing him over. “Got any disgruntled lovers?”

“Do I know of any woman pissed off enough to kill innocent people just so I would take the fall? No. Contrary to what you may think... I’m not an asshole to everyone I come into contact with.”

Scarlett chuckled. “Okay, well, someone wants you to take the fall and we better find out who and fast. So what’s the plan?”

“First, I need to find out who hated McQuarry enough to want him dead. That’ll give me a direction to head in. I figure the best way to find out the skinny on a politician is to ask the press.”

“You can’t talk to the press,” Scarlett protested, flabbergasted at his idea. “Word has probably already spread that you’re on the run and you’d make a juicy story. No, forget it. No press.”

“Look, everything you just said is probably true but journalists have a way of sniffing out the dirt faster than anyone can. I don’t have the luxury of asking around myself. I need a shortcut to information—which means asking a reporter who was familiar with McQuarry and his work.”

Xander knew he’d made his point when Scarlett buttoned her lip, even though she still wasn’t happy. “Fine,” she bit out, her scowl darkening. “But we’re not just going to walk into the Tulsa World office, bold as you please, and start asking questions. We should meet somewhere private and you should wear a disguise.”

He barked a short laugh. “A disguise? Like a hat or something? Or maybe a Rastafarian wig?”

“I’m being serious, Xander. My ass is on the line, too. You shouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Xander knew she was probably right but he didn’t want to wear a disguise. “I’ll swap my ball cap for a cowboy hat,” he said. “Does that work for you?”

“How have you lived this long?” Scarlett grumbled in irritation. “You’re just bound and determined to do things all your way, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, darlin’, that’s just how I roll.”

“Oh, shut up and don’t call me darlin’. I might not be your TL right now but I’m not your sugar-tits, either.”

His brow climbed and there was no mistaking where both their minds went.

That night.

Did she have to bring up her breasts? Like it wasn’t hard enough already to forget how it felt to have those dusky rose nipples pearled in his mouth. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell her that. She was likely to turn him from a rooster to a hen just for bringing up the subject they’d both agreed to forget ever happened.

But funny thing about that... He couldn’t seem to honor his end of the deal.

That night with Scarlett was all he thought about in private moments.

Judging by the warning in her expression, Scarlett wasn’t interested in a repeat of that night. More’s the pity. He could use the tension relief of a good orgasm, and so could Scarlett if that pucker between her brows was any indication of her stress level.

“Since I can’t stop you from being completely reckless, why don’t we just book a hotel at the Ritz and see if we can get our mugs on the evening news for fun?”

“Now you’re just being sarcastic, which I can appreciate, but I’ve already got lodgings figured out. You’ll be happy to hear that I already had a motel picked out that’s off the beaten path, as you suggested.”

Scarlett nodded with silent relief. He wasn’t a complete idiot nor was he trying to take unnecessary risks, as she put it, but he knew in his gut that talking to a journalist was the right way to get fast answers.

If nothing else, it would give them a direction to go in.

He knew Scarlett was probably grinding her teeth at taking marching orders from him but that was too bad.

This was his rodeo, not hers, and they were going to do things his way.

There was something hot about the way Xander took control but being the TL was too ingrained in her blood to take a back seat without chafing.

She still thought he was being stupid talking to the press but that could pan out with a lead so she stopped raising a ruckus about it. He was right in that they needed leads—fast—and sometimes big gains required bigger risks.

True to his word, they drove to a motel in an older part of the city, not quite as maintained and definitely not on anybody’s radar.

In short, it was a roach motel.

“This meet with your satisfaction?” Xander asked, smiling as he shouldered his duffel bag. “I don’t even think they have Wi-Fi in the room.”

Scarlett chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t gloat. It’s not attractive.”

“Is that where I’ve been going wrong all these years?”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, I’m sure.”

“Dating tips from my TL. I’m sure there’s a cautionary tale in there somewhere.”

They checked in under assumed names, Xander paid cash and they found their room. Xander did a perimeter check, they mapped exits and set up an escape plan in case they were spotted by anyone feeling adventurous enough to turn Xander in.

The room wasn’t winning any awards anytime soon.

One big bed covered in a 1970s-era-paisley-printed comforter dominated the small room and a small round table with two rickety chairs was pushed against the grimy window. Cobwebs dressed the corners—housekeeping could use a pointer or two—and the floor was stained with various spots of dubious nature.

Oh, yeah, this was a shithole.

Perfect.

“This is the place where dreams go to die,” Scarlett said, the corner of her mouth lifting. “How’d you find it?”

“I just Googled one-star hotels in Tulsa. This gem popped up. I have to be honest, it was between the Nesting Hen Motel and The Flycatcher Inn. Naturally, I went with The Flycatcher Inn because the flycatcher is the Oklahoma state bird. Seemed appropriate.”

She didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about their situation was remotely funny but her insides tickled at the absurdity of Xander’s thought process. Scarlett sobered as her gaze focused on the one bed. “I know you weren’t planning on a traveling companion so I’m not going to bust your balls about the single bed, but let’s be straight with each other right now... I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You’re going to be very tired.”

“Ha ha. You know what I mean.”

Xander seemed to force a rueful chuckle, saying, “Yeah, I guess I do. Okay, no sex. I get it. Keep things professional. Probably better that way.”

“Of course it is.”

“Just for argument’s sake, what if we could both use a little stress-reliever? I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to use me for my body.”

Xander’s earnest expression was totally fake and yet, Scarlett flushed with heat as memories of how good they were together crowded her head. Recovering with a scowl, she reiterated, “No, we need to keep things straight. You and I both agreed sex the first time was a mistake. Now is not the time to start repeating bad decisions.”

Xander sighed and flopped onto the bed, the old springs protesting loudly. “That’s one way to look at it,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. “Or you could look at it this way. It makes sense to deny our chemistry when you’re my boss but technically, right now, we’re equals so what’s the point in denying what we both want? You’re a logical woman. Chew that over for a minute or two and you’ll come to the same conclusion.”

Scarlett didn’t care how he packaged his offer—she wasn’t budging. “Stow it, Scott. This isn’t a damn vacation and you’d best remember that simple fact. You’re walking a fine line and if you don’t start taking this seriously, I’m out. I’m not going to jeopardize my career for a numbskull who doesn’t have the brains God gave a goose to recognize that it’s time to stop messing around.”

That poked a nerve. Xander lost the laughter in his eyes and sat up, his gaze hard. “I don’t need you to tell me that I’m in a screwed situation. I’m the one with his ass in a vise. I didn’t ask you to come along. You did that all on your own so don’t lecture me on consequences. I’m well aware of what’s at stake.”

“Then start acting like it.”

“Jesus, Rhodes, just for once could you pull that damn stick out of your ass? I get it, things are ugly and I’m staring down a good chance of being thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit—I get it—I sure as hell don’t need you shoving that fact down my throat just for shits and giggles.” Xander grabbed his coat and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Scarlett let him go. It was her job to hold the line, to be the cool head in a situation, even if that meant sacrificing her feelings and needs.

This was no different.

Yeah, sure, in a perfect world where there weren’t any consequences for sex with a subordinate she’d be riding that bad boy all day, but they didn’t live in a perfect world and the consequences were too severe to mess with for a few moments of pleasure.

Moments. Ha! Of course, she meant figuratively. Xander was no one-pump chump or minutes-only man.