Page 37 of The Devil's Conflict

I’m not reliving it all again.

I move to climb into the car, just as an arm wraps around me, and pulls me swiftly back. But before I can take him down, Sniper has me in a tight grip and pressed up against the rear driver’s side of the car. His boots kick my feet apart and he puts a hard thigh between mine to prevent me from kneeing him in the balls. I struggle, but his grip is strong, and he barely budges. “Enough, Thea,” he snaps at me.

“That punch in the face is going to be nothing compared to what I’m going to do the moment I’m free,” I threaten him.

“You can take as many shots at me as you want in a minute, but we’re finishing our conversation from earlier. You can do it now, or you can do it over the next few days because you’re not leaving the grounds until you do.”

“You don’t get to demand anything from me, old man,” I spit. “And you certainly have no right to my past, or anything I don’t want to tell you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says in a voice so calm I’m not sure I’m hearing it right at first. “Because everything about you is mine to demand, little girl.”

“Excuse me? I don’t know who you think you are, but like fuck do you get to say that to me, you geriatric asshole.” I seethe. The audacity of this man clearly knows no bounds.

“Keep it up with the old jokes, baby girl, and all you’re going to do is add up your tally.” The statement is smooth, silky even.

A small part of my brain is clued in to the radical change from him, but the anger inside me is overtaking it. The only thing I can see is the red tinging my vision. “I’m going to enjoy putting you on your ass this time, you miserable old?—”

His mouth is over mine, drowning out my words, and I’m too shocked to do anything but go still. I manage to get my hands on his chest between us, despite it being a tight fit, but instead of shoving him away and punching him in the face again, my fingers curl into his cut, gripping it so tight I’m sure I’m leaving indents in the leather from my nails, and I kiss him back.

A part of me is screaming at me for being an idiot, but the other part of me—the girl that had a terrible crush on her superior officer—is cheering and screaming inside, desperate to enjoy the moment. To commit everything about it to memory.

The kiss isn’t kind or gentle. It’s hard, almost punishing, and everything I hoped it would be. The man can kiss and everything inside me is straining toward him, needing more. Needing everything he can give me. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me as I can only hold on for the ride. For everything that he’s forcing me to feel.

Suddenly, he yanks his mouth away, and I’m too stunned to do anything but stare at him. His dark eyes look down into minewith something that I’m not sure I’m ready to think about. And I’m going to blame that for the fact that he eases back, pulls my hands from his cut, and then pulls me away from my car, slamming the door shut.

My head is reeling as he pulls me back up the steps, and it’s not until he’s pulling me past the room full of people that I start to come back to myself. What the hell am I doing?

“Sniper, let me go,” I hiss, tugging my arm to try and get him to release my wrist. But he’s got in a tight grip and I don’t have the strength right now to pull it away.

“No,” he says simply, ignoring the stares aimed his way. Including one of the guys who has his mouth hanging open. Apparently, this isn’t a common thing to see for him. I try to dig in my heels, but he pulls me, making me stumble.

When we reach the top, he pulls me to the right and down a long dark hallway to a door at the very end. I struggle harder, but he just opens the door with his free hand, and yanks me inside hard and fast, shutting and locking the door behind him. The room is pitch dark, and every single one of my senses is on alert. I can hear him moving, the creaking of the floorboards under his feet, and the soft rattle of what I assume is change or something in his pocket. Then the light goes on, and I round on him, hands on my hips, glaring at him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demand once more.

“That is me getting you alone so we can fucking talk,” Sniper replies calmly, moving away from the door, and surprisingly away from me toward a chair that’s in the corner of the room, facing toward the bed. He shrugs off his cut, then hangs it over the back of the chair.

“And I already told you that I don’t want to talk to you.” God, this man is such a pain in the ass, and I don’t care how good that kiss was, I need to remember that.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad, because there is no way you’re dropping the bomb on me like you did earlier and then walking away,” he snaps; the calm he’s trying to portray slipping away.

“What is there to talk about? It’s done and over with. My team were assholes, it’s been handled, and that’s that.”

“It hasn’t been handled if those fuckers are still walking free and clear!” he yells. “You think I want to sit here knowing that they did those things to you and that they didn’t get punished for it? That just because you’re a woman, it was okay for them to treat you the way they did?”

I go cold with every word he says. There’s only one explanation of how he knows any of that. “You looked into me,” I say carefully. “All that shit is classified, and under a hell of a lot of red tape because they didn’t want that shit getting out.” The betrayal of it is sharp and threatens to suffocate me. But right behind it is shame, and then anger. Shame that he knows about it, that he knows I wasn’t strong enough to save myself; but then the anger that overtakes it. The anger that he feels as if he has some kind of right to knowanyof it when he shouldn’t.

I move before I can stop myself. “You had no fucking right,” I snarl. “No fucking right to look up anything about me. Whatever hero complex you have, get the hell over it. What happened is not your business, it wasneveryour business, and you don’t get to demand from me anything about this or anything I don’t want to tell you. Because none of this shit deals with or affects you.”

“I have every fucking right,” he snarls back. “And everything about it affects me, because anything to do with you affects me. As for me doing a run on you, that’s standard as part of you working at the security office. You signed it in the paperwork, so you can’t go after me for that shit.”

“Oh yes, I damn well can. Because like I said, they tried to sweep it under the rug, and put it under so much red tape that Cryos would have had to go through all of it to get the info,and he wouldn’t have done that without an order from someone else. Namely you, Shadow, or Viper. And Shadow and Viper don’t strike me as the types to care. So the only other person that would is you. And any obsession you have with me is your own problem, not mine. But you don’t get to hurt me to satisfy whatever sick curiosity you have, or to make yourself feel better over whatever guilt you’re feeling. I’m no longer under your command, and I’m no longer your responsibility. And just in case that geriatric brain of yours still doesn’t get it,I’m not your anything.”

SIXTEEN

SNIPER

I’m not letting us crumble before we’ve even started to build what we both need.

Her words are harsh,and I almost would prefer she punched me instead of curling her fists at her side as she holds herself back. The emotions in her eyes tear at me, but I have to force myself to push past it, to not let myself back off. Because if I do, I’m going to lose her, and after tonight, that’s never going to happen. And I’m almost looking forward to the fight we’re about to have. I learned a long time ago you don’t let shit like this fester, because that’s when things fall apart, and I’m not letting us crumble before we’ve even started to build what we both need.

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