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Caught Between [LeatrixSage x Mr Quixotic]

As he stalked through the steam, Cole felt Valentina's gaze on him. Years of High School and College sports and the constant training required by the Marshal's service had ensured that while Whittaker wasn't a ball of gym muscle, he was lean, toned and did not carry an ounce of fat. Likewise, he appraised Valentina. Water flowed over her breasts with their peaked nipples, down her stomach and cascaded between her legs, where she had two fingers buried in her slit. If Cole hadn't already been hard, that visage would have done the trick. Judging from her facial reactions, she also appreciated the sight of him.

Cole's confident demeanour and fluid movement spoke of a man on a mission who wouldn't be deterred from his task. After he gripped her wrist, he thought he was going to get the fight he'd anticipated, and walk out of the shower bearing claw marks. Valentina hissed like an angry cat, and her eyes flared, but when he gained control of her second arm and slammed her against the tiles, she accepted her fate.

Scared of him?

Doubtful.

Or did she think she'd won? That he'd been unable to resist the teasing taunts and attractiveness, and now intended to fuck her senseless?

If so, she'd read him wrong.

When his erection pressed to her stomach, and their entire bodies pushed together skin to skin with their lips close enough to kiss, he almost changed his mind. All it'd take was to jerk her arms higher, hook Valentina's ankles apart and fill her with his cock. He held her there and stared into her eyes. Instead of kicking, screaming or resisting, she smiled.

“Who said anything about there being rules to this game,”

The claim of victory that smile inferred was the trigger to bring him back to his senses. Cole relished the surprised gasp when he slammed two fingers into her pussy, and his palm found her clit. He'd meant what he said; that he wasn't here to fuck her, not with his cock, and Whittaker believed he witnessed a look of shock on her face. For once, Valentina Rossi hadn't got her way.

"There are rules to every game, Valentina." Cole spat out as he continued to finger her, and attempted to shut out the effect his actions were having on him. Valentina's pussy was soaked, and every thrust elicited a groan or gaps of pleasure and caused her muscles to clench around his digits. Finally, she resisted, if you could call it resistance, but he wasn't going to let her go. When she gripped onto his arms, he pulled her away from the wall and shifted. That changed the angle, and his ministrations hit different parts inside her as she ground her clit harder into his calloused palm. When she wrapped her legs around his hips, the man's eyes fluttered, and he bit back a groan. The tip of his erection rubbed her skin and pressed against Valentina, and the throbbing of his cock was painful in its intensity.

The scenario, with its combination of challenge and power, was a pure aphrodisiac to the man in his hyped-up state, and he needed relief as badly as he wanted to force her to orgasm. "Are you close, are you going to come for me?" Cole finger-banged Valentina without respite, her increasingly frantic writhing telling him she'd reached the edge of the cliff. Eventually, she tipped over it. "That's it. You just came all over my fucking fingers." Cole's satisfaction could have been sweeter only if she'd been looking into his eyes, instead of having her head buried in her arm.

After she deigned to look at him, he arched a brow. Cole's chest heaved from exertion, and the muscles in his forearm ached from keeping her pinned. When she moved, his digits, glistening with her juices, slipped from her slit, but remained trapped between her thighs. She brought to mind a snake coiling itself up in readiness to strike when she pulled herself up his body, and Cole's nerves tingled in anticipation. Then, strike she did. He let out a yelp and grimaced in pain with the suddenness and force with which she'd gripped his hair, but resisted ripping her hand away. The kiss that came next caught him off guard. His eyes widened and he stared at her quizzically. She seemed to have regained composure, and Cole presumed that meant there'd no thanking him for the orgasm.

“My fingers are going numb.”

Determined to return the nonchalance that she'd displayed, Cole held back a shiver when she traced his scar. Not wanting to betray the fact that he found the sensation pleasant and that the light touch there sent a thrill through his veins for the possibilities of what it meant. Was she as curious about the story behind his injury as he'd been on first seeing the marks on her flesh?

"No problem." Cole returned her smile, and released her wrist in the process, leaving her to stand on her own two feet. "I've other uses for my arm." He indicated his erection, which jutted out and begged for attention. When he stepped away, he didn't re-extend his offer to Valentina to stay and watch; he didn't think she'd go anywhere anyway; nor did he ask her to help. It wouldn't take long.

Moving to the far side of the shower, he wrapped his hand around his shaft. Out of reach of Valentina, Cole remained intimately aware of his surroundings, prepared to react if she moved. With his back resting against the tiles, water rolled off his body and the muscles of his six-pack rippling with each breath he took, he started to stroke. Legs spread apart and his hips arched off the wall, Cole's breathing tightened, and his soft gasps morphed into pants. He slid his hand up and down the length, rolled the webbing between his thumb and index finger over the tip of his engorged head and twisted his wrist in a corkscrew motion as he jerked and pumped his cock.

Conscious that he provided Valentina with a show that evidenced the effect she'd had on him, he heard every word thrown his way as he got himself off, but Cole didn't care. His ministrations increased in tempo, the moans became louder, and the heat in the pit of his stomach grew hotter. When it reached boiling point, he slapped the palm of his free hand against the wall behind him, then clenched it into a fist. His nails dug into his skin, and the Marshal's body spasmed before a groan of ecstasy left Cole's lips. The eyes that had hooded over flew back open to look straight at Valentina when he exploded; writhing, moaning and shooting jets of cum.

Once done, Cole collapsed against the wall. He remained there until his breathing had somewhat steadied, then pushed off it and approached Valentina. His legs quivered like jello. "Enjoy the performance?" The shower had mostly washed away the remnants of his climax by the time he hooked her chin with his index finger and pulled her head up to address her earlier comment.

Amusement departed his tone. "A broken woman is no fun, Valentina. Although, I won't deny that the process of breaking one could be. However, this isn't about you, it isn't about me, and it sure ain't about us. It's about putting Curic away and if your antics do anything at all whatsoever to screw up my chances of achieving that goal, rest assured that I will make your life a living hell. So." Cole smiled cheerily, "why don't we call a truce in this supposed war and try to be friends," then exited the shower and collected two fresh towels from the rack.

One he tied around his waist. The other remained in his hand when he turned back to her. "Now if I remember correctly, I promised a shopping excursion?" He tossed the towel in her direction, "I'll wait downstairs," and paused only to pick up his clothes on the way out the door. Whittaker knew in his heart that this was nowhere near the end of it and despite his threat, a part of the man's intellect looked forward to the battles ahead.
 
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As fast as he had snatched her up, Cole had just as easily let her go.

Well, what do you know?

It was surprising, but she supposed it shouldn’t have been, along with his smile, and his assertion that he had better things to do with his arm. He was, after all, a man of his word. Her eyes dropped to admire his erection as he indicated the only proof she really had that the man was just as affected by her as she was by him. The fingers that were settled over the scar at his side twitched, caught somewhere between her own wanton desire to see if he felt as hard as he looked and her will to deny him any more satisfaction than he’d already stolen.

As he stepped away, he solved her dilemma for her, and Val’s hand dropped back to her side. Her gaze jumped from his tightly toned ass to the broad expanse of his back. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the Marshall was a breath-taking example of manhood, and she wanted to touch him. Not to seduce him; not to draw him in or manipulate him. Valentina wanted to touch him because she wanted to conquer him, and the realization was threatening to make her reevaluate the nature of their association.

Not going to happen.

Her legs were still unsteady, and Val leaned her weight into the tile wall to hide it. Staggering across the bathroom in orgasm-induced weakness wasn’t high on her to-do list. Watching the Marshal carefully move outside of her easy reach while he prepared to fulfill the other half of his promises, however, was deeply amusing. She observed the man with a calculated interest, learning a thing or two about how he like to be touched, and just what sounds he made when it was just right. Had she been feeling a little more gracious, or a little less vengeful, she might have given in to the temptation to lap the warm water off his skin or replace his hand with her own. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her waist to keep her itchy fingers to herself.

“If only you weren’t so obsessed with the rules,” she murmured thoughtfully as his tempo increased. “But, if I heard you correctly, I’m only aloud to watch.” He was listening, of a fashion, but his attention was focused on other things. Not that she blamed him. She’d barely heard half the things he’d said while he’d fingered her into oblivion.

"Are you close, are you going to come for me?" his words were still echoing in her head and Val stifled a shiver. Yet again she found herself wondering if she’d gotten the man all wrong. Boundaries, laws, rules, the general constraints of polite and civil society, those things caged the man that slapped the wall and growled out his pleasure. They kept him in check, perhaps more than even he knew. Val caught her bottom lip with her teeth, chewing at it gently while her thoughts turned over themselves. She had believed it was some high moral calling that kept Cole Whittaker honest and drove him to be a staunch champion of the far-reaching arm of the law.

Now she was seeing him from a different angle, and it was just then – her eyes alight with curious interest and chewing delicately at her bottom lip – that Cole’s head turned. His dark blue eyes were bright with something she couldn’t quite define, and she grinned at him as she watched him writhe. Valentina surreptitiously pressed her legs together, determine to ignore the fresh rush of heat that settled into her skin and pooled at the juncture of her thighs. She’d hidden her face from him out of anger, trying to hide her pleasure from him, but he stared her down while his body shuddered. Heat spread through her cheeks as her lips parted, but she didn’t look away. Fine, he affected her, that fact was beyond contention at this point.

God damn you, Cole, she thought without malice as he collapsed against the shower wall. He managed to look just as vulnerable as he was dangerous, and so completely content with himself that some of the bite behind her annoyance bled away despite how much she wanted to hold onto it. Begrudgingly, she acknowledged a deepening respect for the man. It was going to make things more difficult if she didn’t put an end to it.

It all has to play out in its own time, or this won’t work. Just stick to the damn plan, Val.

She remained carefully unmoving when Cole pushed himself up and came back to her. He looked almost playful with his head ducked to look down at her, but his amusement was short lived. Before she could tell him that she’d very much enjoyed the show, he had tucked a finger beneath her chin to till her head back. He didn’t hold her face still as he had before, but exerted a different kind of control over her, one that almost asked her to disobey or try to get away. It made goosebumps raise on her arms, but she stubbornly remained relaxed, calm, and smiling up at him despite his threats.

“If we were friends, there wouldn’t have to be rules, Cole,” she answered him as he left the shower. “If we were friends, I think our morning would have played out much differently.” While he collected the towels, Valentina shut off the water. Neither one of them had washed, but, that little tidbit seemed trivial compared to what had actually taken place. “But, I will admit that fighting with you in the bedroom was a lot more fun than running from you when you’re threatening to shoot me.”

When he brought up that shopping trip he owed her, Val’s eyebrows raised in surprise before an eager grin settled across her lips. She caught the towel he threw her as she stepped out of the shower and gleefully watched him gather his things on his way out. And here she had thought she was going to have to remind him. If there was anything Val liked more than getting into things she wasn’t supposed to, it was shopping on someone else’s dime. Shopping on Cole’s dime sounded like a wonderful way to spend a morning.

As she marched back into the bedroom, the scent of coffee caught her attention, and when her eyes caught the coffee cup on the nightstand, she had to laugh. She felt awake enough not to need the caffeine jolt, but she had to admit that it had been nice of him to bring her a cup. She was going to have to thank him for it. And, after she towel dried her hair and got dressed, she brought the cup of cold coffee down the stairs with her.

As usual, Cole was true to his word, and waiting for her downstairs.

“Thank you for the coffee,” she told him as she walked into the kitchen to rinse the cup and set it on the counter. “I’m sorry I let it go to waste.”

Unlike a good deal of what she said, that, at least, she genuinely meant.

On their way to the mall, Val was remarkably reserved. She sat in the backseat so that he could feel comfortable, didn’t bother than man with useless chatter, and mostly kept to her own thoughts. It was still early, the air was still cool, and she wanted to simply enjoy the short drive. It was pleasant, being outside the crush of the heart of the city for a while. But, as the start and stop traffic began and the noise built around them, she had a sense of being back in her element. Being anywhere out in the open in Curic’s city was questionable at best, particularly when she had no idea what his recent movements had been. But, she’d gotten herself a Marshal, and the city itself would hide her for a while. Eight and a half million people in a 304 square mile area were as much and asset to her ability to stay hidden as they were eyes for Curic to try to find her. Not that she underestimated the man’s ability. If he wanted to find her, he would. It was just a matter of time.

Manhattan Mall was at West 32nd Street and 6th Avenue, and absolutely bursting with activity. It was one of the few malls that didn’t provide off-street parking, but the first basement level usually had a few spaces open for those lucky enough to find them. When Cole found a place to park, Val waited patiently for him to step out of the car before she did.

“All right then,” she smiled at him before she began to cut across the parking area to get to the elevator, talking to the man over her shoulder as he brought up the rear. “First things first, I need a fresh pair of panties, Victoria’s secret is on the second floor.” Valentina slipped into the elevator as it opened, and then raised her eyebrows at the man as she motioned for him to move faster.

“Oh, come on, you’ve already seen the set I’m wearing. How can I seduce you without a decent collection of lingerie?” she was teasing him as he stepped into the elevator with her and she punched the button to take them up to the second floor of the shopping mall. “After that, we’ll just cut across to the nearest clothing store for a couple pairs of pants and some shirts, and I’ll be content with that so long as you can resist being a man about this.”

The doors to the elevator closed as she turned to face him, already reading the subtle signs of discomfort most men seemed to be plagued by when it came to shopping for anything feminine in nature. “Let me enjoy shopping, and I promise I will be a good girl,” she purred, grinning at him. “Scouts honor and all that.” Valentina planned on enjoying this small chance to pretend the world was a safe place no matter what he did. But, allowing him to enjoy the illusion that he was firmly the one in control wasn’t something she was above to get her way. What would be even better was stretching the man’s tolerance in public where he simply couldn’t manhandle her without someone asking questions.

“Does that sound fair,” she asked as she absently plucked a bit of fluff from his shirt, simply waiting for the doors to open as they arrived at their floor, “or do you need a list of rules to go by?”
 
“If we were friends, there wouldn’t have to be rules, Cole,” she answered him as he left the shower. “If we were friends, I think our morning would have played out much differently.”

Whittaker attempted to put the thoughts of what that meant out of his mind as he'd walked downstairs. In the shower, he'd heard Valentina's words as he took care of himself, but more than that, he'd revelled in her gaze, and the appreciation he'd felt in it. Was that for him, or only his physique, and why did he care about the answer?

Hadn't he already, by exerting his physical dominance and refusing her overtures, demonstrated that he had no interest in pursuing a sexual relationship? If she'd been anyone else, a woman like Valentina Ross, but one without her history and with similar moral views, it could have been a different story.

By the time he arrived in the kitchen and was free of her presence, his concerns had calmed, and he'd turned his attention to the present. Cole wasn't a domesticated man by any means. However, he was one who preferred cleanliness and order. Uncaring of whatever taunts it might generate from the woman upstairs, he cleaned up the dishes from the previous night's meal.

After he'd placed the last plate in the drainer and removed the latex gloves, he heard her footsteps on the carpet, but he paid her no attention until she spoke. When he turned and laid eyes on her, Cole blinked away the images of Valentina orgasming in the shower. "No problem, it's only coffee. Be thankful I didn't go to the trouble of bringing you breakfast in bed. If that had gone to waste, then I would have been irked." She appeared content to let the situation upstairs remain unmentioned. He stepped away as she rinsed her mug, collecting his wallet and car keys.

Cole had changed into a pair of jeans and a plain polo shirt, no hint of his status of a Marshal visible, and pulled on a denim jacket that covered the bulge of his weapon holster. A few minutes later, they were on the road, Valentina had taken place in the back seat, this time sans restraints, and Cole puzzled on as to why. To provide him space, or to get away from him?

Assuming the latter as she remained quiet during the journey; not that he made much of a conversational effort either; Cole checked the mirror and the following traffic to ensure they weren't being tailed. He discovered that Valentina hadn't decided to grace him with the silent treatment for the rest of the day when she spoke and smiled while they waited for the elevator to arrive. Although at the mention of Victoria's Secret, he almost wished that she had.

Valentina's tone and the tease in her words caused Cole's brow to furrow. It seemed as if she was enjoying herself, selecting that store on purpose. Why was that? Did she find the concept of dragging Cole Whittaker, US Marshal, along for a bout of lingerie shopping entertaining? Did she think it'd make him feel out of place?

If so, she'd be right. The only occasion Cole had shopped for woman's underwear had been for an old girlfriend, and that online. Prisons, police stations, interview rooms, gunfights, courtrooms and standing face-to-face with the dregs of society were Cole's domain and where he felt at ease. Perusing woman's clothing with a smug Valentina Rossi was so far out of his comfort zone, it wasn't in the same ballpark.

"You're aware that Walmart sells panties, aren't you Valentina, and that there's no need for seduction, I've already an open invitation. Which, if I ever do accept, well, what's the point of buying expensive underwear for a man who'll only rip it to shreds?" He shrugged, pretending nonchalance, "But since we're here and I can't be bothered turning back," and entered the elevator with her. The car was crowded, leaving Cole unable to respond to her other comments until after it came to a stop on the second floor. That provided him the time to become more and more annoyed.

Following their exit, he grabbed Valentina's wrist and jerked her around to face him. "Get me to Curic, and I might prove you wrong about those fucking rules. A jail cell is too good for that asshole. Also, while we're on the subject, consider the fact that if you'd followed the damn rules, you wouldn't be here needing me to keep you alive. You should try it sometime. Now, since I think you are incapable of being a good girl, even if you tried, let's cut the crap and hurry the hell up."

Having relayed his point, Cole released her wrist and lifted his gaze to the Victoria's Secret storefront, which stood a short distance away. He shuffled on his feet and turned his attention to a coffee kiosk in the opposite direction. Should he send Valentina in or her own and get her to call for him when she needed payment?

The Marshal hadn't asked if she carried credit cards, but even if she did, he couldn't chance her using them. With the assets at his disposal, Curic would possess the know-how to trace the transactions, and Cole's service card provided an extra three layers of security. He mulled it over, running the various consequences through his head, and decided that to leave to her own devices would constitute a win for the woman. He couldn't have that.

So, why not make the best of a bad situation?

He caught Valentina's eye. "Are you ready?"

Despite his discomfort, Cole was curious to appraise her choices.

And suggest his own.

After linking his elbow in hers, Cole tugged Valentina into Victoria's Secret. As he'd suspected, the store was filled with woman, of all shapes and sizes, and he was surrounded by mannequins adorned in skimpy lingerie and shelves and racks of frilly bras, panties, corsets and other items he couldn't identify by name. Not another man to be seen.

"Can I help you?" A shop-assistant, pretty, blonde and all of nineteen years of age, greeted the duo.

"Oh, hi. Yes, it's our fifth anniversary, and I'm looking for something special for my lovely wife." Wary of Valentina's intentions and certain that she'd try to play upon the situation to his detriment, Whittaker launched a preemptive strike. "Would you have a black-and-white pinstripe ensemble with matching handcuffs, if not a ball and chain, in her size? Or are we in the wrong store for those?"

As the clerk's jaw dropped and her mouth opened and closed, searching for a response, Cole flicked Valentina a victorious smile. "We'll pretend you're a convicted felon. How does that sound, honey?"
 
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“Yes, Walmart sells panties,” Valentina chuckled as the elevator doors closed, unphased by the little crowd that was listening in to their conversation as she whispered loudly to him. “And having a man rip them to shreds is the point. If I walked around in floral patterned, cotton briefs that looked like something a child would wear, you wouldn’t want to rip those off.”

The elevator dinged just as someone behind them tried to hide a laugh behind a cough, and Val smirked as the doors opened and they all began to file out. She was feeling on top of the world while she dragged Cole around behind her without laying a finger on the man. He didn’t have a choice, really. She was his ticket to Curic, and that made her valuable. Where she went, he had to go, and it made her absolutely giddy with the sense of power it gave her. That, and while Val was not a conventional woman, she shared that love of spending money with the rest of her race. That along with her drive to hoard her favorite trinkets, meant she spent a lot more time thieving than she really needed to. Not that changing those things would stop her from seeking out the high that came with the influence and prestige that her profession and skills afforded her. Maybe she was as conceited and arrogant was people claimed she was. Did it matter? Val was happy with her life, even now that she had a bounty on her head. Hell, maybe even more so.

All of that came to a screeching halt as the small cluster of people swarmed out to their myriad of destinations and Cole’s hand clamped shut around her wrist and jerked Valentina around to face him. A careful, calculated smile that did nothing to sooth the flare of anger in her cold, grey eyes stayed in place to ease the interest of the casual observer as Cole hissed at her. Yes, she was needling the man on purpose. No, that didn’t give him the right to dictate anything, and he was digging on her last nerve. Standing toe-to-toe with the man she had just recently fantasized licking every inch of, she wasn’t at all surprise that her pulse quickened. She was, however, thoroughly annoyed.

“I’d like to see that,” she simpered at him, yanking her arm away from him at the same time that he released her wrist. “But, I don’t believe it for a second. And, If I follow any rules at all, they are my own. Not yours, not Curic’s, and sure as fuck not any the rest of the world might want to force me into accepting.”

The reminder that she did indeed need him as much as he needed her was a blow she didn’t want to acknowledge. If she’d just done the job and gave Curic what he wanted, she wouldn’t be standing in Manhattan Mall with a US Marshal holding her leash. He was right about that, and she did not like it when Cole Whittaker was right, any more than she liked the fact that her skin seemed to burn where he had touched her. His attention, however, had gone somewhere else for a moment, so she rubbed her wrist to ease the tingling sensation in her skin. When his gaze came back to her, she raised her eyebrows at him, and then rolled her eyes when he asked if she was ready. She was inclined to tell him it was a stupid thing to ask, but then he looped his arm in hers and began to march toward the Victoria’s secret like man marching onto a battlefield.

The brightly lit world that was the center of the mall faded away as they crossed the threshold of the shop and stepped into the dimly lit, black, white, and pink, twilight space that every Victoria’s secret nurtured. Little spot lights highlighted the assorted items on sale while the shadows they cast separated out each section of the store as much as, if not more so, than the walls. Everything from women’s clothes, shoes, and bags to perfumes, panties, and bras were on display under pink and peach indirect lighting used to create the ‘secret’ space for women to be women and indulge themselves. As Val took in the myriad of scents and sounds with a sense of familiar comfort, one of the many shop-assistants came over to great them, and her jaw just about hit the floor.

Did he just say wife?

The unexpected turn had Val watching him closely as he went on to ask the woman if they had a black-and-white pinstripe outfit with handcuffs. The insults he dropped were not lost on her, but Valentina laughed and hugged his arm as she caught the young woman’s attention.

“Honey, that would be Spencer’s,” she fussed in a doting tone that was so sickeningly sweet it made her teeth hurt, and then the clerk smiled as an understanding that was surely completely wrong settled in. “We can go by there next, if you really want to roll play.”

“Sounds like you guys are planning a fun evening,” you had to give the girl some credit, she had recovered quick and was right back into her sale’s voice, “have you been to a Victoria’s secret before?”

“Yes, you have a profile on me under ‘Anne,’” Val assured the clerk, who’s eyes practically lit up with dollar signs. A member with a standing profile was a woman that had money to waste, and the commissions that went with those sales could get the clerk all kinds of fun bonusses.

“I’ll get your information, you can take the couples booth, it’s already open.”

“Thank you, Cassie, just bring a few items from my fun times wish list.” Val read the girl’s name from her tag to create familiarity, and then bumped her hip into Cole to nudge him forward. The couple’s booth was a two-room changing station that would normally allow a lady to change in the smaller room, and then let her company appraise her choices in a slightly larger viewing space that had a couple seats and a full-length mirror. While Val had considered doing exactly that earlier, she found some of her fun being stamped out by the anger she was still simmering in.

Maneuvering Cole was no easy task, particularly as she couldn’t just hit the man a few times and then drag him around. Something she was imagining doing with the first heavy object that she could get her hands on. As it was, they had half the attention of the store just because he was a good-looking man in a sea of women. Their painfully obvious tension probably made them look quite comical, but she was anything but amused as she corralled the man into the booth.

“All right,” she sighed as she leaned against the door. “You can sit and relax, Cassie will bring me a few items and I’ll pick out a couple. As long as you don’t continue to insist on being an ass, this can all be over nice and quick, just like you want.” If he changed his mind and started feeling like a tight-wad, they’d just hold the charge to her profile for a few days, and then use one of her credit cards on file. She doubted Curic knew that she kept a tab at Victoria’s secret any more than Cole had, so it should be safe enough. After all, everything attached to her was under her middle name and her mother’s maiden name. Which was exactly why no one, not even the great Cole Whittaker or the IRS, knew where Valentina’s money was. “So, do you think you can sit there and just be quite?”
 
Cole had been happy to discover the elevator car crowded, so that it'd bring an end to their conversation. Memories of the shower remained imprinted in his mind, as did the lingering images of her body and all he needed was to enter into a discussion on how he'd go about fucking the woman. She didn't seem to share his privacy concerns, however, and Valentina's needling increased the annoyance that her next comments caused. Particularly when he heard a snicker come from a woman in the corner

He reigned in his temper enough to avoid creating a scene after they stepped out, although the tension hung heavily between them. From her reaction, it was easy to gauge that Valentina didn't appreciate the harsh tone or grip he'd taken on her wrist. Fortunately, she also restrained her simmering anger.

What had riled him most was that she'd been right. Cole followed the rules, but that's because they made sense, whereas Valentina delighted in breaking them for the sake of it. If and when he stepped outside of the law or societal expectations, it'd be only when the end justified the means - such as putting a slug in their target's skull to save the taxpayer the expense of a lengthy trial - and not for personal benefit.

He wouldn't admit that he and Valentina were in any way similar, nor that under other circumstances, he'd express admiration of her independent spirit and the strength of her convictions, even if he disagreed with them. That wouldn't do when taking down Viktor Curic was on the line and the responsibility for ensuring her safety rested in his hands.

Despite all that, Cole wasn't naive enough to try and collar Valentina too tightly. Allow her to claim small victories or believe that he could be manipulated and she'd be easier to deal with and manipulate to his will. He bit back a cutting reply when she snapped at him and yanked her arm free. Why poke the bear when it'd only result in a shouting match and achieve naught except to inflame the situation between them.

Instead, he turned to Victoria's secret.

Cole's demeanour changed and he caught Valentina off-guard with his comment to the clerk. Seeing her jaw drop, he restrained a belly laugh, but the mirth in his expression said it all. She quickly recovered - as did Cassie, according to her nametag, who was likely used to dealing with all types in the store - and returned serve.

"Well, baby, I'm in a rush to get you home, so let's forget Spencer's and make do with whatever we find here. I'm not the most patient of men, remember." Matching her sickly sweet tone, Cole turned away from the gazes of many other women in the store who'd stopped what they were doing to appraise the lone male. He was accustomed to, and took pride in, receiving the occasional admiring glance and favourable comment, but not in this environment. He felt like an exhibit in the zoo.

Thankful when Cassie intervened, Cole didn't have much expertise to add to the conversation. On hearing Valentina utter something about a profile, his head snapped around and he stared at her in shock. The man's mouth still hung open as she tugged on his arm and tried to drag him across the floor. He resisted out of instinct, then relaxed and consented to trail behind her, careful not to knock a mannequin over or display more than a cursory interest in the display items they passed.

After they were alone, he pulled free of her grasp and surveyed the dressing room setup. Cole swivelled around to face Valentina as she laid down the Law.

Or were they rules that she expected him to adhere to?

"Surprise, surprise, you're the last woman I'd expect to be a Victoria's Secret club member, or cater to a man's fetish for lingerie and panties." With Valentina clearly unamused, Cole hid his curiosity behind provocation. "I could sit, but staying quiet and not being an ass is a different matter entirely. What other secrets do you have, Valentina? Or should I call you Anne? Humour me by answering a couple of questions. There's no detail in your file of a relationship, past or present, and I've long thought of you as a black widow who devours her partner after sex. Now I wonder if I've pegged you wrong. Is there a man in your life, or was there? Perhaps an ex, or a jilted lover out for revenge who I have to worry about along with Viktor?"

Cole continued speaking as he dropped into a chair and crossed one leg over the other; settling in. "Number two. Has it occurred to you that your refusal to comply with the rules is a rule? The sole one that you don't dare to violate, and could get us both killed?" He raised a hand to ward off any interjection, "Finally, number three," and indicated the dressing room. "How does this work? Do I get to help again, or is it my opportunity to sit back and enjoy the show?" He flicked Valentina a smile. "Either way, I'm good, so why don't I let you be in charge this time, and I'll follow your lead."

So much for not poking the bear.
 
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The minute they were alone the stubborn man went from relatively docile, but annoying as all hell, to exposing his fangs and trying to take little bites out of her. If nothing else, at least the biting was much more interesting than the cloying, simpering performance he’d put on for the many eyes that had kept tabs on them. Behind those teeth, however, was a rapid-fire set of questions that made her pause. As it turned out, there was a lot to unpack with the line of questioning he’d decided to take. So much so that Valentina wasn’t entirely certain she felt like answering them. Of course, giving the man the silent treatment could turn out to be the worst option she had available to her. She imagined him rattling on insistently while she was trapped in the little changing room pulling out her hair by the handful, and then took a slow, deep breath.

“You want to play, then let’s play,” she mocked quietly, throwing his words from that morning back at him. That moment played itself out in her mind’s eye, the naked man on a mission super-imposed for a moment over the one that was deliberately trying to goad her. She blinked, and the steam and sweat were gone and the changing room had come back. Cole was watching her from the comfortable looking chair he’d flopped into, smiling as if he’d just won a prize or something.

Grinning, Val crossed the small space, taking a page out of his book as she leaned over him and set her hands on the arms of the chair to invade his space. “Yes, Cole, I am a card-carrying member,” she smirked as she spoke, “and every woman caters to the fetishes and fantasies of men. What kind of world do you think we are living in? Beauty is power, I was lucky enough to be born with natural assets, I use them. It really is just that simple. And, I like feeling sexy.” She shrugged, and then chuckled, “Yes, you can call me Anne if you like. Annette is my middle name, I just shorten it. It is so much more…normal, than Valentina, don’t you think? It doesn’t stand out as much and is so easily over looked - forgettable even. It’s a wonderful way for a girl to keep her secrets secret.”

As a thought occurred to her, Val’s head tilted to one side while she studied the man a little more closely, “As far as my passed relationships go, why do you ask? Are you worried about where I’ve been? I think you pushed those fingers a few inches too deep to be worried about that now, don’t you?” she was sneering at him as she straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest as she considered some of the other things he’d said. He’d called her a black widow. The thought made her lips twitch and she cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing. The rest, however, hit uncomfortably close to home; much more so than she would have liked to admit, and not for the reasons he was suggesting.

“I think the only other thing I’m open to discussing with you is how this is going to work,” she deliberated aloud while she tried to decide how best to move forward. “Unless you’re planning on answering some things in return. You know, they say a little give and take is good for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

As if on cue, before there could be any outbursts about just how she was or was not answering Cole’s questions, there was a small knock and Cassie’s voice calling out.

“Oh, just a moment,” Val stepped into the little side room to collect the items Cassie had brought her. She told the young sales rep that they would come looking for her when they were done, and then made Cole wait while she hung up each item before she turned back around to face him again.

“Where was I,” she began as she rested her hands against the door frame, hesitating just inside the boundaries of the little changing room. “Oh, yes, the worthless criminal was being given permission by the benevolent arm of the law to be in charge,” she chuckled as she turned her back to him and began to undress. “If I am incapable of being a good girl, I am certain you are absolutely incapable of following my lead,” Val spoke as she set her clothes aside and then began to pick through the sets of silk, lace, and cotton that Cassie had delivered.

There were a couple of always-necessary push-up bras with their matching panties, one in a soft purple with a front close and a little lace in the back, and the other in white, but built more like the top half of a corset than the average bra. They were fun, flirty, but nothing devastatingly exciting. They would be comfortable, however, and much more practical than the babydoll and crochet-lace Corset. Actually, as she looked at Cassie’s selections, Val realized her Wishlist was heavier on the lace than the leather these days.

Might have to do something about that, she thought with a little grin, as she set the bra and panties that she was obviously going to buy aside and slipped into the black and tan lace of the corset. The way the pattern came to a sharp V just above her belly button made her waist look absolutely tiny in comparison to the flare of her hips, and the top lifted her delightful handful’s worth of breast and padded them to small D's. The adorable boy-shorts that went with the corset completed the illusion of making her toned backside look round and soft and took some of the thunder out of her well muscled thighs. Not that Val had anything against her legs being strong and toned, she needed them to be, but she enjoyed the softer, more feminine illusion the lace created.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Val’s attention shifted from her reflection, to that of Cole sitting behind her, watching her. “You know what?” she was laughing again as she pulled her hair back and up to see how her neck and shoulders would look, “Lingerie is wonderful and all, but it’s never quite as sexy as a cute pair of boy-shorts and a man’s shirt. What do you think?” she turned to face him again, crossing her arms behind her back while she curiously watched him look her over. “I think I’d look better in one of those button-up work-shirts of yours, more… domesticated, so to speak.”

As she watched him, she wondered how badly he really wanted to know her secrets, and how far he’d go to try to learn anything about her beyond the fact that she was a thief. She suspected he was just lashing out at anything he thought would get under her skin. And, she supposed, he hadn’t really missed his mark. If he was surprised that she enjoyed the sedate, elegant cuteness that was Victoria’s Secret, he’d be even more surprised to learn that – not only did she not keep lovers – but their romp in the shower was her first sexual escapade after a stunningly long dry spell. Of course, she wouldn’t admit that it had been during her stent as Curic’s arm-candy. She’d never slept with the man, but he hadn’t wanted her sleeping with anyone else either. The whole scheme had been a touch too close to being his property for her liking, but she had gotten the job, gotten her hands on the flash drive, and never looked back.

It occurred to her that Curic had no idea what she had stolen, where it had gone, or why Victor wanted it, and her smile quirked into a sly, little smirk. No one even knew it had been stolen yet, and that was the most beautiful part of the whole deal. Only she, Victor, and her buyer knew what she'd taken, and Curic didn’t even know what crimes she had actually committed.

It was absolutely beaitiful.
 
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Valentina had provided Cole with the opportunity to raise her personal life by the insistence on dragging him along to Victoria's Secret, and he intended to use it. If she preferred to avoid the subject, well, she could hurry the fuck up. Then, after they'd dropped into Cole's apartment, they'd be on their way to her friend, whoever and wherever he or she was. Whittaker hadn't pressed her for information about her friend, but would when the time was right. No way in Hell the Marshal would go in cold.

His smile exuded satisfaction as he sat and peered up at Valentina, feeling comfortable in the environs of a woman's lingerie store now that there was only one set of eyes to look back at him. She didn't seem too happy with the line of questioning; the first asked out of genuine curiosity, though he'd never admit that's where it stemmed from.

How much of he'd heard about Valentia was correct, and how much was rumour and innuendo?

Why did he care?

If he was to place his trust in and, at some stage, potentially his life, in someone, then he wanted to know who and what he was dealing with. No bullshit or lies. Also, if he could figure out what drove Valentina Rossi, he'd be able to determine where her weak spots lay, and where she was shielded by impenetrable armour. There was a third reason too; - he simply wanted to know, for himself. She intrigued him.

He searched her face for any reaction, trying to read facial ticks and expressions. However, Valentina remained the consummate performer and didn't give anything away, tell him to fuck off or refuse outright to answer. She stayed composed and returned the barbs he'd slung. When she approached, Cole tensed his muscles, but moved nothing except for his eyes. Memories of the unexpected kiss in the shower returned when she bent over, her lips close to his and breath floating against his skin.

How would she respond to his inference that by catering to the whims of men, Valentin Rossi wasn't quite as capable and independent as she believed herself to be?

Per usual, she had the answer

Valentina's proximity and the scent of her perfume wafting into his nostrils made Cole hold his breath as she spoke. He exhaled when she'd finished and stepped back. "As long it's for your sake and not theirs, Anne, I applaud you."

Although she'd won the first round, Cole knew he'd scored a point when he queried her past relationships.

To that, she bit back more viciously than he'd expected. Valentina's sneering, contemptuous tone and dismissive attitude of what had happened got to him - why, when it'd been nothing beyond a battle of wills of which he'd come out on top? -and elicited a flare of anger. He struggled from keeping that turning from a spark into a fire, aware that by twisting it back on him, she'd deftly avoided the question and attempted to change the direction of the conversation.

Had he found a weak spot? Were Valentina's past relationships a matter she'd refuse to discuss? If so, why?

Was there something in her background that she didn't want him to uncover? That he could use against Valentina?

Was she just a private person?

A third option was that she didn't answer because Cole Whittaker had asked the question.

Before he could reply, Cassie interrupted. Cole glanced at the items she held and shot the clerk what he hoped would seem a friendly smile. She nodded in return, spoke something to Valentine that he didn't catch, then left them alone again. The tension as he and Valentina played a game of 'let's drag this out and see who'll speak first,' while she hung up her clothes was palpable. He covered up his impatience and need to break the silence with a clearing of his throat before she deigned to grace him with her attention again.

Sexual tension existed, but not of the same degree as that morning, meaning that Valentina's undressing didn't have the same effect on his libido. That's not to say it had none at all, but Cole was able to restrain his physical reactions and appraise her adorning the underwear with detachment. At least until she was done and asked him how she looked.

She looked good and despite his efforts, the view and her teasing words caused the heat to rise in his veins.. The hairs on his neck stood on end and Cole's mind unknowingly tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair and pushed back images in his mind of Valentina; bent over, corset ripped to the side and his hand buried in his hair as he banged her in front of the dressing room mirror. A cough left his mouth before he realised his jaw had dropped open, and he jumped to his feet.

"My opinion is irrelevant." He took a step toward her, expression darkening as her words rang in his head. Unintentionally, Val had hit a raw nerve. Corsets and lingerie had their time and place, but, as she'd said, boyshorts and an unbuttoned dress shirt spoke to domesticity and intimacy. It'd had been the favoured outfit of the only woman Cole ever considered asking to marry him.

Every morning, Jennifer would greet him with that sight; a smile on her face and a cup of coffee in hand. Up until it'd turned sour, and she'd claimed the time he devoted to her paled in comparison to the time he spent with his Mistress; the US Marshal's service. That, Cole hadn't been able to deny. At that stage, Viktor Curic's legal maneuvering and bribed witnesses had seen him slipping out of Whittaker's grasp. When Cole hadn't been working, he'd been thinking about it, and had badly neglected Jenny. He blamed Curic for the destruction of their relationship.

Stopping a foot away from Valentina, Cole collected the clothing she'd worn in and tossed it over her shoulder. "But it'll do the job. We're done here. Now let's get whatever else you need before we waste the entire day."

Without awaiting a response, he opened the stall door and popped his head out. "Cassie." Cole caught her attention at the registers and beckoned her with his finger.

As the girl acknowledged him and hurried to finish up with the customer she was serving, Whittaker buried his anger and focused on Valentina. "By the way, you didn't answer my questions, which tells me that I hit the mark, huh? He must have been a hell of a guy?" Pure guesswork. "If you want to play a mutual game of truth, it's no skin off my nose; I'll play. But I don't think you're up for it, I think you want me to stop prying because you're scared to let anyone in behind the wall you put up. Even if that helps us nail Curic. Because, and don't flatter yourself otherwise, that is the only reason I ask." Cole wasn't above lying to himself.

He stepped to the side when Cassie knocked, "If we forget anything, I'll gift you a couple of shirts from my closet," and forced a smile. "Or you can just steal them."
 
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Valentina leaned right across Cole and into his path to be sure he didn’t run before she was done with him as she snatched the door to the sitting room open. “Just ring up everything, use my card on file, put a bag on the door handle, we’ll be right out in a moment.” The startled girl just nodded as Val slammed the door shut again, the unfortunate thing caught in the middle of their row without even knowing what the hell the weirdo couple in her store were up to.

She wasn’t certain what she had said to the man to tip him from petulantly annoyed into legitimately angry at her, but Val was finding she had a natural talent for sparking the man’s temper. Hell, the more time she spent with him, the more just her breathing seemed to get under his skin. He, however, was stabbing resolutely into her last nerve with the intent to find a reaction, any reaction, and despite knowing that, Val would be damned if he thought for one second that she was afraid of him.

And then there was the issue of the little flaw in her world that he persisted in poking. She had worked damn hard on her reputation, which was no small thing when she didn’t have the dozens of heartbroken and bereft men trailing at her heels like the whispers suggested. He had a nack for finding the cracks in persona, but she was learning the cracks in his as well, and she hadn’t missed that familiar tell of his fingers tapping at the arm of the chair.

“Look who’s talking about walls,” she chided flippantly as she closed the distance between them “the man that couldn’t have sex with me this morning because I might get to close, yeah?” Valentina reached out to snatch Cole’s left hand and press his palm against the inside of her left thigh, right over the two pucker-mark scars that were once bullet holes that had been created by her own gun at the hand of someone she had trusted.

“My last lover gave me these,” she snarled up at him, undaunted by his size, his strength, or his temper while her own boiled over in the face of emotions she refused to feel, and memories she refused to remember. “He was kind enough to use my colt 22, so the damage was minimal, and he wasn’t a very good shot, so he missed the femoral artery. He got what he wanted and left me for dead, so I don’t think you have to worry about him being jealous.” There had been rules for her before that day. A certain code of loyalty and trust built on a basic professional courtesy. She had been stupid, naive, and after digging the rounds out of her leg, she’d made damn sure she wasn’t the one on the wrong end of a double-cross ever again.

Furious that he had dug the information out of her, Val didn’t just release his hand when she finished, she threw it back at him and dared him to complain about it.

Only then did she noticed that her clothes had fallen off her shoulder where Cole had placed them and onto the floor at her feet. She snatched them back up as she put some space between them again by crossing the dressing room to toss her shirt into the chair he had been sitting in so that she could focus on stepping back into the pencil skirt. It was a great skirt, but Val was absolutely dying for a pair of pants. She was paying for the corset anyway, and she didn’t care to spend any more time than she had to getting dressed again, so she kept it on.

“Since you agreed to a mutual game of truth telling,” Valentina rejoined as she snatched up her shirt and pulled it on to begin buttoning it up, “what were you thinking about before you got out of your chair? Your mind went somewhere else, I want to know where.” She damn well knew it was something he would have rather not have been thinking, and she was almost certain it was about her, just as it had been the other night in the interview room when she’d suggested he could punish her if he ever caught her on his own. It was the same tick, and she had a damn promising idea of where his mind had gone if that was the case.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed as she went on,” it’s not stealing if you give me permission. But, if you want to see me in your shirts, I’ll be happy to wear them.” Val winced as she slipped back into her heels, the painfully gorgeous shoes becoming more painful and less gorgeous by each passing minute. “That leaves just a Pair of pants and a decent pair of shoes.”

Finally dressed again, Val crossed back to the door with every intent of abandoning him as she snatched it open, only to find the plastic bag Cassie had left outside the door for her to put her items in. “Only you could make shopping a fucking awful experience,” she complained under her breath as she slammed the door again and turned to gather the other bits of fluff out of the changing room in order to yank them off their hangers and stuff them unceremoniously into the pink and black shopping bag.

In that moment, Valentina hated him. If for no other reason than that Cole had goaded her into facing a part of her life she had never wanted to revisit. The defenselessness of it infuriated the woman in a way nothing else could, and because she was certain she was either going to start hitting him or start crying, Val was hot to get the hell away from him as quickly as she could. She’d stopped caring whether or not he answered her question just long enough to wonder why the hell she’d even bothered to ask it? Maybe because she was certain he’d never say it out loud, whatever it was. He was hypocritical that way, she thought, always demanding things he wasn’t willing to give himself. Just another powerful man that stomps on everyone around him. So much for the high and mighty, oh-so-moral Cole Whittaker. He was the mirror image of Victor Curic, and she was a fool to have thought for a second that he wasn’t.

What do you care? Get him to kill Curic, sell the flash drive, and you’ll never have to run again.

Val frowned even as she thought it. What did she give a good-God-damn what Cole was like and whether or not he was anything other than a man capable of doing what she needed him to do? Guilt warred against her anger as she turned around to face him again, because she had to face him to open the sitting room door and get out of the suddenly cramped and confining space. The fact that she felt guilty only made it harder for her to restrain the urge to try and deck him a couple times. Of course, getting into a brawl with the man was as counterproductive as letting him get under her skin had been.

“Well,” she goaded the man as she waited, changing tactics in the bat of an eye. “You’re in charge, big man, you lead.”
 
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Under the denim jacket, the hairs on Cole's arms stood on end, and his eyes burned with a dark fire as they bore into Valentina. Subconsciously, he knew her taunt hadn't been a deliberate ploy to incense him - how could it be? - and his fury wasn't directed at her personally. Valentina was merely the closest target for which to take out the anger roused by the stark reminder of his own faults. Faults that he'd dissected in his mind a million times before and unfailingly reached the same answer. He could not apportion any responsibility to Jenny for the demise of their relationship.

Just as he couldn't blame anyone but himself for Curic having beaten the charge that would have seen him sent away for a life stretch, and his burgeoning criminal empire dismantled before it's tentacles spread to the West Coast. If only he'd managed to convince his superiors to offer witness protection. Not to those weak of will who'd been bribed into silence, but those who'd stood tall and agreed to testify.

If only he'd been able to make the authorities see how dangerous Curic was, and the lengths he'd go to. But, he hadn't been able to achieve either, and the blood of those who'd subsequently died at Curic's behest was on Cole's hands. While Jenny remained a sorrowful memory; his love dead and gone, leaving a charred conscience behind, his hatred for Viktor and what he represented had intensified.

Taking a deep breath, he reigned his emotions in. All occurred in a flash, but there was no doubt Valentina had noticed the effect that something she'd said had on Cole Whittaker. Nor that she hadn't forgotten it after he'd called for Cassie, and accompanied his sarcasm with a forced smile. Fist clenched by his side, he determined that he'd not allow her to inflame him again, regardless of what she said or how she mocked him. Cole wouldn't provide her with another glimpse of his vulnerabilities. "I don't mix my job and my private life, Valentina. Screw a woman once and it gets complicated, whether you like it or not. "

When she took his hand and placed it to the warmth of her inner thigh, Cole almost lost it, thinking that she was trying to tempt him again. He tensed, but before he jerked his arm away, he noted the expression on her face and the pads of his fingertips touched the puckered flesh of her scar. There was nothing sexual in Valentina's demeanour or in her snarl. Cole realised that, as he'd intended, but forgotten with being caught up in his own head, his challenge that she was scared to let anyone in had worked.

He'd wanted to force her to reveal part of herself, and now she was, but not in any he'd anticipated. As she told all, Cole was stuck for a response. All he could do was listen. He felt sympathy for her, but knew that's the last thing she'd wanted to hear from him. So, what did he say? There was nothing he could. That she'd hated being forced to reveal it was evident in her expression and demeanour - it felt to Cole that she hated him at that moment - and it was swiftly turning into the scene with Valentina that he'd wanted to avoid earlier. How much was being heard beyond the walls of the fitting room?

Then she changed the subject and goaded him again. Asking what he'd thought as he'd watched her from the seat, she clawed and scratched with her words. He'd struck that weak spot, but with the tension thick around them and the woman looking as she might physically attack him at any second, Cole didn't have the time to try and figure out what precisely what it was. Shit, he hadn't argued with a woman like this since.... Jenny. Valentina was on a tear, and before he could answer, she'd opened the door. The two stared at each other, faces only inches apart.

"Follow me." He bit back the 'little girl' in response to her big man comment and gripped her elbow.

Cole shoved Valentina through the door and graced Cassie at the counter with a look that almost turned the poor clerk to stone. She managed to croak out, "Have a nice day," after she'd rung up the charge and he'd snatched back the card he'd handed over from her grasp.

After Cole manhandled Valentina out of Victoria's secret, he maintained a grip on her and spoke as he took long strides and scanned from side to side; searching for a place that stocked women's apparel. "If you want honesty, I'll give it to you. Back there, I was thinking about fucking you. Your corset ripped aside, tits squashed to the mirror and my hand buried in your hair as I forced you to watch me pound you from behind in the glass. This way." Spotting a store, he nudged her in that direction and met her eyes. "However, there's a difference between fantasy and wanting it in reality, Valentina. What I can't answer is, if I ever did fuck you, would it'd be for my gratification or your punishment. When I figure that out, you'll be the first to know; maybe they're one and the same?"

Thankfully, being free of the claustrophobic confines of the fitting room had helped soothe Cole's nerves, and by the time he released his grip on her outside of GAP, his tone had lost its anger and regained a tinge of humour. He arched a brow and motioned towards the women's clothing section. 'Go ahead, and once we're done, can we please at least try to be civil to each other? We don't have to be friends, we don't even have to like one another, but there's not a snowball's chance in Hell that we'll get close to Curic if we can't learn to work together instead of turning everything into a shit fight. I'll apologise if that helps and, believe me, it's rare to receive an apology from Cole Whittaker. You hit a raw nerve back there."

It galled Cole to do it, however, one of them had to offer up the peace-pipe before any hopes of a successful partnership disintegrated, and he was prepared to forgo a little pride if it helped achieve the end goal. "I'm sorry, I could have handled it better."

Whether she accepted and, if so, for how long peace lasted remained to be seen.
 
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No Shit Sherlock.

Val rolled her eyes at him. Of course, sleeping with her would complicate things. That was kind of the point of the whole seduction racket. Most men didn’t even have to get the actual sex to cause the same effect. If they thought they could, that was usually enough. Cole didn’t seem to be too much different there, except for that his reaction was to simultaneously clam up and lash out. Although, at that very moment, she was really, really, hoping he’d give her a good reason to start shouting at him. The potential scene they’d cause, or had potentially already caused, was simply not something she cared enough about to even think about. She wanted to fight, she wanted to fight him, and the rest of the world could just deal with it until she found that place where she didn’t have to feel anything anymore.

Cole snagged her arm by the elbow to push her through the door and guide her through the store. Along the way she tried a couple of times to yank her arm free, earning for herself the painful bite of his fingers into her skin to keep her contained. As they emerged from the store and out into the bright, white world that was the rest of the Mall, her hissing and spitting attitude was mellowed slightly by the number of eyes that followed them. Oh, she still wanted very much to hit him, but Val was realizing the resulting spectacle would be very difficult to explain away. Blending in was the goal, and so far, they stuck out like a pair of sore thumbs. The fact that she had to practically run to keep up him as he dragged her along didn’t help matters.

Val very much wanted him to remain a villain in her head, just a monster of a different color, no better than Curic, and then he just had to do that damnably annoying thing of completely smashing her perspective of him by proving it partially, if not completely, incorrect. Cole actually answered one of her questions. What he said wasn’t quite as shocking as the matter of fact way that he said it or that he had answered her at all. But, on top of telling her exactly how he had been fantasizing about fucking her, he had to expound on where his personal thoughts about her actually where. Whether it was meant to be a dig at her or not wasn’t entirely clear, but it tasted of a level of honesty that she didn’t want to hear. Not now, not while she wanted to hate him and be angry at him. It left her stubbornly glaring up at him, but the heat had been taken out of her ire and she’d stopped struggling against him in favor of walking alongside him at pace.

If I ever did fuck you, would it'd be for my gratification or your punishment?

Valentina was chewing on that statement like a dog with a bone, lost in her own thoughts, when Cole’s sudden stop brought her up short, and then he let her go. The fact that he had released her was so startling that she looked down at her arm before she glanced up to see where they were.

“The GAP,” she asked slowly, glancing sideways at the man, “really?” Not that there was anything strictly wrong with the clothing store, but she had never stepped foot inside it before. He motioned toward the women’s section, and Val had begun to head that direction when he opened his mouth again. Part of her wanted to scream at him to shut up before he went and ruined the carefully crafted image she had only just built up to make it easier to not like him, but the words never left her lips. Instead, she listened quietly, struck dumb by the fact that he had just admitted that she’d hit a raw nerve – even if he didn’t elaborate on what that meant – and then that he apologized.

Cole Whittaker had just apologized to a criminal in broad day light where other people might have heard it.

God damnit, Val silently seethed as her cheeks flushed with color. ‘I’m sorry,’ wasn’t enough, but it was so unexpected that it sucked the wind out of her sails and left her floundering for something, anything, to say. She wasn’t ready not to be angry any more, and yet he already seemed calm again, and was being more than reasonable. He had her off balance again, and she was irritated at herself for allowing it to happen. She shouldn’t be allowing him to affect her so much, and she needed to put an end to it.

“If you want to work together and be civil, then you’ll have to tell me when I hit a nerve and how I did it instead of blowing up at me,” she fussed at him, but all her previous venom was missing from her tone. “At least then I will be able to avoid doing it again at a later date.” It was reasonable, but she was avoiding the fact that she had some blame in the man’s loss of his temper. She was ready to admit any wrong doing, not even to keep her much-needed ally an ally.

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered as she passed him the little pink and black bag from Victoria’s Secret. “Sorry, but you don’t want them to think I’m stealing anything,” Val explained before she left him standing there to launch into a quick run through the women’s jeans and off to find a more comfortable pair of shoes. A wall of sneakers that looked suspiciously like canvas shoes caught her interest, and she grabbed the first pair she saw in the right size before curving back through the shirts. She realized, as she grabbed a couple of blouses, just why she had never shopped at GAP before: it was all so painfully domestic. She had to question whether or not it was a good idea to be less than formal while within arm’s reach of Cole, but the answer didn’t really matter. He’d brought her here, and he was unlikely to be talked into going anywhere else. It looked like neutral tones and housewife styles were going to be her thing for the foreseeable future, a far cry from the lovely little leather number she liked to wear on serious jobs. Not because it offered any advantages, really, but because it made her look like a badass.

Her mood had mellowed out somewhat by the time she returned to the front of the store. She took the plastic Victoria’s Secret bag back from Cole before she stepped aside to let him pay for the clothes, and then collected the equally advertisement worthy GAP bag from the cashier as they finished up. Cole didn’t need to drag her along anymore, as Val kept pace alongside him instead of lagging behind or charging off ahead of him. The fact that he had apologized still chafed, and she felt petulant now that she didn’t have any strong emotions to hold up against him. It left behind only the embarrassing reminder of a much more naive version of herself and nauseating feeling of betrayal and abandonment attached to those memories to stew in. Boxing them up again was proving to be more difficult than she would have liked, and while Valentina wasn’t above having a good cry to get it all out of her system, it wasn’t something she was going to be able to do with present company within ear-shot.

That meant she had to play nice while she was still choking on her own stupidity. The tension that had been between them had turned from hot to cold, like an awkward, expectant pause that didn’t have a resolution. It made it difficult to think of anything to say to the man. That morning she had climbed into the back of his car with a sense of sitting on top of the world and being chauffeured around, now she slid into the back because she was too comfortable to sit next to him. As it was becoming almost a habit of the backseat just being her place, she hoped he wouldn’t notice her discomfort and just see it as where a criminal belonged. She wasn’t fit to be trusted anywhere else, anyway.

There was a little pang in her chest as she thought it, and she closed the door a little more firmly than she meant to as if she could scare the sensation away with a show of force. It tasted dangerously like melancholily and Valentina refused to allow herself to fall into that tar-pit of an emotion. Once you were in it there was no getting back out of it. Worse, still, was that it was somehow connected to Cole, not the man that had given her those scars on her leg.

“So,” she searched for something to say because she couldn’t take it anymore. “We’re off to your place, then, yeah?” she asked as she rummaged around in the GAP bag to pull out a pair of jeans and start ripping all the stickers off. She hadn’t changed in the backseat of a car in a while, but there was room enough that she thought she could pull it off without too much of a fuss. “Can we get something to eat while we’re there?” she’d never gotten breakfast, and it was nearing lunch time, and Val was famished.

While she waited for an answer from Cole, she wiggled her way out of her skirt to then shimmy her way into a dark pair of jeans. The skirt and her heels were stuffed into the shoebox once she’d slid her feet into the new pair of sneakers and laced them up. Her shirt she pulled off to check the blood stain on the side. The old blood was turning brown and she wrinkled her nose at the sight. That was never going to come out all the way, and she was just going to have to deal with it. Sighing, she replaced it with black blouse that fell to mid-thigh. It was plain, but… cute, in that girl-next-door type of way. Better yet, it was loose and comfortable, and she was beginning to feel happy in her own skin again.

It was stupid how easily something new and nice could ease out her annoyance or discomfort. Some new clothes and a new pair of shoes, and she had shifted from moody and uncertain to completely content with the world. Just how malleable and changeable she could be should have been upsetting, or at least embarrassing, but she already knew these things about herself. She really was a vein little bitch. The thought made her lips twitch with the threat of a smile, and Valentina sighed as she dropped her head back to relax in the backseat.

“I’m sorry, Cole,” she mumbled half-heartedly, part of her rather hoping he didn’t hear her. “You’re just the closest target for me to take out my frustration on. I’ll try not to do that anymore.”
 
The shopping excursion had gone well, almost as well as his effort to greet the woman with coffee in bed that morning and the subsequent shower hijinks. Not to mention dinner the previous evening. Cole checked his watch as he dragged Valentina from Victoria's secret, ignoring the glances and mutterings from the crowd of onlookers, who assumed the couple were engaged in a marital argument. Less than twenty-four hours and by Cole's reckoning, this was the third time they'd been at each other's throats, voices raised in anger. Four, if you included the altercation in the Police Station.

That didn't bode well for the future. Despite Cole's enjoyment of the challenge that Valentina presented, if it were to keep up non-stop, it'd turn into a fire that couldn't be contained. She could get him riled up in no time at all like no other since Jenny, and he didn't want to contemplate the reasons behind the why of that was. His implied punishment could be as much to gain revenge on her for arousing his carnal interest as it was to exact retribution for inciting his fury. The two were inexorably linked, and that was a mind-fuck the man he didn't need.

Whether an apology would help soothe her fury or inflame it further, Cole was unsure. By the time they reached GAP she'd calmed somewhat and, possessing the element of the surprise, he took a chance it'd be the former. After he'd spoken, he held back a smirk that wanted to break out, elicited by her shock at having him apologise, combined with Valentina's expression on being led to the GAP. Obviously, it wasn't her go-to for women's fashion.

When she responded, his tactic appeared to have had the desired effect and the heat lowered, although the tension remained palpable. Her acceptance came with a rider, which received a nod of assent from Cole. "Deal, I expect the same on your end. Talk to me before you explode." She may not have intended her comment when she placed Victoria's Secret items his hands, as a joke, but Cole found it amusing, given the number of times he'd referenced her criminal tendencies.

While she shopped, Whittaker surveyed the mall, in search of anyone paying them undue attention. With the public argument died down, all of the voyeurs had moved on and he noted nothing overtly suspicious. However, it was another reason he wanted to maintain civility; at least in public. If one person stared, it was noticeably out of place and had you on guard. If a hundred stared, you couldn't tell the dangerous from the curious.

After she returned, and they were done with shopping, Whittaker sighed in relief. If only he'd know in advance what was going to happen, he'd have gone ahead with his offer earlier that morning to leave her at the safe-house and chance estimating her sizes. It would have been a lot easier and less confronting.

Walking in silence, Valentina took her now customary seat in the back when they arrived at the car. "We'll drop in, pick up what we need, then set up the meeting with your friend." As he reversed out, the sounds of rustling clothes came from behind him. He took a deep breath, adjusted the mirror; not to gain a better view, but so that he wouldn't get a glimpse of anything that'd distract him; and stepped on the gas.

Her mumbled sorry was barely audible, but he heard it and on reaching the top of the exit ramp Cole dared a twist of the head. He shot Valentina a smile, "Apology accepted, and we're both in the same boat, " then turned the radio volume up and swung the car out onto the highway.

Twenty minutes later, he braked outside a red-brick apartment complex, indistinguishable in it's dreary, block design and well-worn facade from the others that surrounded it. After parking illegally twenty feet from the entrance, Cole hopped out, opened Valentina's door and rested his forearms on the frame. "That nerve you hit? Her name was Jenny, and you remind me of her. Or at least the way we used to fight like cats and dogs. Damn, that woman had a temper when she was pissed." And, damn, hadn't it led to some memorable sex, however, Cole wouldn't share that tidbit. Instead, he shrugged and appraised the building he'd moved into after their break-up.

Not what you'd call five-star or even three-star luxury, still it contained all the amenities a single man required. The floor plan consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, and living room with an attached kitchenette, which Cole had furnished with a bed, television, sofa and stereo. Additionally, the place was easy to maintain, in a convenient location and the monthly rental only consumed two-thirds of his Marshal's salary. He refocused on Valentina. "Since we're on friendly terms once again, I'll trust that if I equip you with a firearm, you won't use it to shoot me with? Come on in and pick your poison."

Paid for out of his own pocket, the most expensive item in his apartment was Cole's gun safe, and the second-most, the deadlock's he'd installed on all the exterior entrances and exits. Security wasn't a high priority for the Landlord, a fact proven again when he discovered the foyer entrance unlatched, not even requiring him to enter his pin code to gain entry before he walked across scuffed tiles and waited by the stairwell for Valentina to join him. It was faster than using the one decrepit elevator that the complex came equipped with.
 
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Oh, dear god, where they bonding?

Wait, how had they even gotten to that point?

Cole turned up the radio and Val frowned at the back of his head. The last forty-eight hours had been a whirlwind of ups and downs that had left her feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. That fact in and of itself was uncomfortable for her to accept. Sure, she was under a lot of stress. Curic wanted her dead, she was being hunted, and she was risking her freedom by trusting Cole; if she hadn’t been feeling stressed, it would have been wise to question her mental wellbeing. Rationalizing that all out, she settled on telling herself that was the problem. She was only off her game because she was under an unusual amount of stress. Her ups where when she had buried it more effectively, her downs where when it all started to leak through. It was coincidence that Cole played a part, he was all she had to attack.

There was nothing else to it.

Liar.

Val nose wrinkled with distaste, and with a dogged decisiveness, she stamped out the little voice that threatened to break the fragile excuses she was building in her head to ignore glaring realities that she didn’t want to think about. Instead, she tried to wallow in that otiose little high that came from wearing a great pair of jeans and comfortable shoes. It was better than examining the conflicting and unclear emotions that were lurking beneath everything that had transpired between them. They hadn’t even been within each other’s company for a full twenty-four hours and yet her stomach was churning with a relentless disquiet that she couldn’t ignore despite how hard she tried.

Their short ride should have been comfortable at the very least, but Val couldn’t let it go. There was an undercurrent that kept bleeding through every time she thought she’d successfully pulled her mind to other things, and it made the trip to Cole’s apartment feel like it took hours instead of minutes. What if she hadn’t been deliberately antagonistic when he’d woken her that morning? Would things have been different? Why did she even care? The questions circled around and around her mind until she felt dizzy, her normally rational thought patterns failing to compartmentalize her doubts and fears because she couldn’t understand just what the source was.

If I ever did fuck you, would it'd be for my gratification or your punishment?

There was a tightness in her chest that twisted until it ached, a painful counterpoint to the warmth of arousal that the statement had sparked when Cole had actually spoken it. The conflicting reactions rolled her mind right back to that morning and the unresolved and mostly unacknowledged emotions that had been churned up behind the sexual power-play that had taken place. The moment had demanded her focus on the game, and Val had thrown aside anything that didn’t help her to do that. Now, those things were demanding her attention.

“You want me to screw you, Valentina, is that what you want Pound you so hard that after I’m done, you won’t walk straight for a week?”

One of Val’s hands went to her throat, but her fingers brushed against her own skin, not the phantom hand she had felt there. Eventually she was going to have to sit down and take stock. She’d been bottling up too much, ignoring the red flags and warning singles her mind and body had been throwing up to tell her that she was out of her depth and she needed to regroup. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time for that. Something that was starkly driven home when the door beside her startled her by opening. Val had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed that they had stopped or that the car’s engine had been turned off.

Val pasted a neutral expression onto her face as she looked up at the man while she mentally scrambled to tape closed the cracks and hide everything she’d been thinking. In a strange way, he helped her pull herself back together by distracting her mind with a new bit of information. Jenny was the raw nerve she had trampled all over – an ex, it seemed. It didn’t take much for her to figure out the connection, what girl didn’t like running around in comfy underwear and her man’s shirt? It was a raw wound he was still healing from, and she didn’t make any comment.

At least, until he asked her if he could trust her not to shoot him if he trusted her with a firearm.

Her gears ground for a few seconds before she managed to make her voice work, “No, I wouldn’t shoot you with your own gun.” Val managed to smile as she said it, despite the resounding connection it had to the unpleasant memories he’d drawn out of her earlier. “That’s low, even for me,” she sighed as she slid out of the car to follow Cole into the brick building. It looked like any other apartment building throughout the city, and Val found herself feeling surprised that he lived here. It didn’t seem to suit him, but she wasn’t certain why.

Valentina met Cole at the stairs, and then followed him up them to his apartment. The spaces where sparse, which she suspected was a reflection of how little time he actually spent within the confines of his home. There wasn’t much reason to when one was alone. A home could become something like a cage when that was the case, and Val disliked how much of herself she saw reflected back at her.

Stop it, she hissed at herself as she watched the man move through the rooms, you’re the hunter, he’s the prey, don’t forget it.

Val kicked his door closed behind herself and waited for him to come back with that firearm he’d promised her. Her fingers twitched the second she saw it. It wasn’t as elegant as her colt, but the Smith and Wesson Shield 9mm didn’t require her to be a crack-shot every time she pulled the trigger. There was plenty of stopping power, but it also meant she was more likely to kill whoever she was shooting at. Despite the fact that her Colt 22. was the favorite weapon of assassins worldwide, she used it because she could poke holes in people and deliberately avoid killing them. Or, at the very least, increase the chances that they would live. The 9mil that Cole placed in her hand was meant to deter an attack, it was meant to kill, and some small part of her rebelled against the idea that she might have to kill someone to see this through.

Val’s eyes moved over the weapon, the thumb on her left hand finding the mag release and dropping the magazine into her right hand. Her eyebrows rose as she held it up, and then her eyes jumped to his. Cole Whittaker had just handed her a loaded gun and was standing there watching her with it. That ache in her chest twisted again, some emotion she couldn’t name translating itself into a physical pain. Valentina ignored it and forced herself to take one breath, and then another, and then she slid the magazine back into place. As the fingers of her right hand curled over the top of the weapon, the thumb on her left hand shifted to find the safety and clicked it off so that she could pull back the slid just far enough to see that there was a round in the chamber, ready to fire.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure what she felt. Anger? Maybe, at how stupid it was to put a loaded weapon that was ready to fire into her hands. How could he even dare to trust her with it? Val’s eyes burned as she clicked the safety back into place and then took the holster he offered her. It was appendix carry and clipped onto the edge of her jeans as she slid the soft leather that would house the gun inside her jeans to rest just below her belly-button. She slipped the 9mil into the holster and pulled her shirt down. The fabric was loose, so the weapon didn’t print, do one would ever know it was there.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, because something had to be said. Unable wade through the mess that was her own mind, Val crossed her arms over her chest and looked around at his apartment since she couldn’t make herself look at him. “So, what else do you need?”
 
To arm Valentina, or to not arm Valentina. Cole struggled with that question on the drive from the mall, weighing up the positives against the negatives. His most significant concern was whether he could trust the woman.

As he'd come to learn, Valentina had a volatile temper, and there remained a nagging thought in his head that she possessed ulterior motives over and above requiring his protection. On the flip side, he had his own safety to look out for, and in going after Curic, they'd be entering a Lion's Den. It'd be better for both to be capable of defending themselves and able to offer support to the other if the need arose.

Could she be trusted?

Not entirely, he decided, but enough to not put a bullet through his brain. Despite the constant conflict and differences, or because of them, he felt they'd developed grudging mutual respect. She might run, but she wouldn't shoot him.

"If I ever did fuck you, would it'd be for my gratification or your punishment?"

With no conversation coming from the back seat, the comment also re-entered his mind.

As did the answer.

Both.

And he'd gained the distinct impression, judging by Valentina's attempts to goad him into a fury-fuelled fuck at the safe-house, that as far her end of the pleasure bargain was concerned, gratification and punishment could well be the same thing.

The woman affected him in ways he couldn't express, and the reminder of Jenny had been the straw to break the camel's back. At that moment, he'd possessed the choice to either get angry or give in to temptation, toss his concerns about the consequences of sleeping with Valentina aside and screw her senseless because it'd feel damn good.

What harm could it really do?

Valentina's continued silence in the back seat started to do his head in, and Cole was relieved when they arrived at his apartment completing. Moving into action with a specific goal in mind couldn't come too fast.

After stepping out, he exhaled and revealed the tidbit about Jenny; providing Valentina with an excuse that was close enough to the truth and hopefully close the book on that subject. Her surprise when he mentioned the firearm was evident, and he stayed quiet, with an eyebrow arched. Her answer was what he'd expected, for what else could she say, "No, Cole, you can't trust me, I'll shoot you the second I get the chance."

Once she'd joined him in the stairwell, he led her into his apartment. Neat and tidy, sparsely furnished, the home of a man who lived by himself and spent as little time there as possible, he didn't offer a tour. "Wait here." He walked into his bedroom and returned a minute later with the weapon in hand. A Smith and Wesson 9mm, he'd chosen it for its reliability, ease of use and stopping power. With the decision made to arm Valentina, Cole didn't hesitate to hand it over and watched her reaction with curiosity.

She appraised the gun as if it were an old friend she was intimately acquainted with. That told him Valentina Rossi knew how to handle a firearm and, if push came to shove, likely wouldn't have an issue in firing it. The silent exchange possessed a strangeness, an unspoken tension between them, and Cole didn't miss the fact she refused to look at him.

He stared at her until she finally deigned to lift her head, "Don't make me regret it," however, she still refused to meet his eyes before asking what else he needed. "A few clothes and we're out of here. " Cole let it go and headed to the opposite side of the room, near the front door, and bent to grab a backpack that lay on the floor. Before his fingers touched the straps, he stiffened and stood back upright.

Whittaker turned to Valentina, holding a finger to his lips. There it was a second time; the distinctive squeak of the stairwell door opening or closing. That no sound of footsteps or voices had preceded it in a building where you could hear your neighbour sneezing through the thin plywood walls had Cole's instincts racing.

"Shit," he hissed, waving his arm and indicating for Valentina to find somewhere to hide. The problem being that the room contained scant cover, and he didn't have time to drag her to the bedroom or fire-escape without risking them both being caught in the open.

Through the open front door, reflected in the exterior windows, Cole captured sight of two men - crouched, with right arms lowered and each gripping a handgun - approaching the apartment.

Less than five seconds passed from when he'd noted the squeak until the first poked his head around the jamb and drew a bead on Valentin Rossi's head. Six foot two, Caucasian with his hair shorn into a buzz-cut, a knife scar ran down the man's cheek, and his expression burned dark with dangerous intent.

His companion, shorter and stockier, but with the same buzz cut, jeans and a white body shirt - hired muscle - scanned the room with his Colt .45, then stepped in. "Hands in the air, and call your friend out, nice and quiet. Viktor wants a word with the two of you."

Obscured by the door and pressed to the wall, Cole held his breath. Not daring to click off the safety on his Glock in case the noise gave him away, he glanced at Valentina.

Time to discover if their burgeoning trust in each other had been misplaced.
 
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Something unique took place in that moment.

First, Val got to watch Cole Whittaker waving his arms like a mad man to try to tell her to find a place to hide.

Second, Val got to wave her arms back at him to say: ‘Where exactly would you like me to go? There is no place to hide in here!’

And finally, for the first time in living memory, Valentina Ricci had a real moment of panicked uncertainty. The firearm in her jeans was something of a comfort, but she couldn’t just start randomly popping-off rounds without putting herself, Cole, and everyone else in the building at risk. She was in a place she didn't know without any advantage to her name, and Cole was trapped hiding behind a wall.

‘Why do you care if Cole is at risk?’ that snippy, little voice in her head asked as she listened to a familiar, and much more masculine voice from behind her, shouting for her to get her arms up.

Because I need him, she clarified for her own peace of mind. He’s the job.

All the confusing and conflicting things that had been warring in her head where shut down in the face of necessity. As she lifted her hands into the air, her eyes dilated with a fresh hit of adrenaline. They couldn’t see Cole, but she could feel his eyes on her as she turned to face the pair that had just walked through the front door. Valentina grinned as she faced the pair. She knew them, she knew the work they did. The upside was: if they had wanted her dead, or if her being dead had been an option, they would have killed her already. Transporting a corpse was a lot easier than transporting a living person after all, and if she was still alive, that meant she had to still be alive when they got her to Curic. She had some leeway, but only a little.

It would have to be enough. Cole was her mark, damnit, and she wasn’t losing him to Curic, or to TweedleDEE and TweedleDUM, otherwise known as Reggie and Ronnie Amero. They were twin brothers, and if they weren’t being paid to hurt you, they were damn good people.

Valentina wasn’t going to be happy about hurting them if that’s what it came to.

“Hi, Ronnie,” she wiggled her fingers at the pair before politely setting her hands on top of her head. Her general dislike for the housewife look she had going shifted into a more positive light when the long, loose shirt kept the weapon in the front of her pants concealed even with her arms up in the air. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Where is he, Val?” Reggie, the man with the scar, and generally the leading man in the pair, already looked tired. They knew her game, and she knew theirs, and they were both trying to decide how this was going to play out. Of course, none of them had ever thought they’d wind up in this fun little standoff.

“Out the window and down the escape,” she lied smoothly and with a smile, lifting one hand from her head to wiggle her fingers at the window to her left. “He’s a Marshal, so he’s not willing to die for a dirty criminal like me, can you blame him? Half the people we know wouldn’t risk their lives for me.”

“Not really,” Ronnie was being snarky, but Reggie looked unconvinced.

“Come on Reginald, you know you can’t risk it,” she purred at the man, and her use of his given name made his eyes narrow. “If I’m telling the truth, then he’s getting away, isn’t he? No skin off my nose, of course, but Viktor is a bit of a bastard when he’s disappointed.”

Reggie was an immovable oak, but Ronnie shifted his weight from one foot to another beside his brother. He was already itching to go check, to leave and cover their bases to be sure Cole hadn’t slipped through their fingers. It meant leaving his brother alone, of course, and neither of them liked that much. Sure, Valentina was just a tiny woman, but there was this fun fact about firearms: they only worked on what was in front of them. Reggie was barely six feet away from her, and she could close that distance fast enough to make one firearm far less lethal. To do that, she needed Ronnie to leave, because two firearms pointed at her meant a much bigger chance she'd end up bleeding on the floor. After getting to Reggie, she’d have to rely on Cole to actually hop out of hiding to help her. While she could disarm Reggie, there was no way in hell she was going to overpower or outmaneuver the man in hand to hand combat. It wasn’t just that he looked like a man that had spent a lot of time lifting weights in prison, it was in his speed. Sure, he was strong, but he was also very fast and very skilled. Honestly, that’s why it was Ronnie that would be doing the leaving.

Reggie nodded, and Val grinned at the man.

They’d come to same conclusion.

Ronnie wasn’t going anywhere.

“He’s still here,” Reggie’s narrowed gaze never left Val, but Ronnie’s .45 swung from Val toward the open door to her right. Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her eyes on Reggie. If she looked toward Cole, they’d know where he was. Fuck, this was not how the world worked! She was the bad guy, she was the villain, she was the one woman they all feared on one level or another and she was sick to death of not seeing them squirm! They needed to remember that she was everything they couldn’t control, and she was damn well going to remind them.

Bullets hurt like a bitch. They burned as they tore through flesh and bone and tumbled inside your skin. It was something like being stabbed with a hot poker, but the fire never went out. Being stabbed was different, it hurt when it happened, and then you wouldn’t feel it for a while because of severed nerves and shock. Not that it made it any better, really, but once you were familiar with both, you could fight through them - so long as nothing vital had been hit – and Valentina was very familiar with both.

“Alright then,” Val arms dropped to her sides as she decided she was just going to have to risk it. Reggie tensed, and then she launched herself at the man. Her risk was a bullet, her reward was that Reggie didn’t shoot her. He allowed her to come to him, likely relying on his superior strength, and while he reached out one big hand to grab her upper right arm, her left hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun and yanked it up over her head. There was the chance he might shoot into the ceiling and whoever was above them, but that mattered less to Val than her own skin. While he was focused on trying to jerk his gun free from her grip, Val slipped her right hand under her shirt.

“You’re fucking insane,” he shouted at her, but Val only grinned up at him. He couldn’t shoot her or Cole with his gun pointed uselessly in the air. And, he sobered right quick when the muzzle of her new S&W burrowed into his balls. He had a painfully tight grip on her arm, but he’d risk a bullet lodged in his wife’s favorite sex organs if he tried to yank it away.

“That’s right,” Val agreed happily at the small flicker of instinctive fear she saw in the man.

That's it, remember who I am.

The adrenaline rush she was riding paled in comparison to seeing someone as dangerous and deadly as Reggie Amero look at her in fear, even if it was only for a second. Val stretched up onto her toes to make herself nearly eye-to-eye with the man when her tongue darted out to lick the knife scar on his cheek, now more red and vivid than before in response to his rise in blood pressure. “I’m certifiable, but I like you, Reggie, and I like your wife. Don’t make me pull the trigger.”

“Fuck you, Val,” Ronnie groused from her side, his .45 pointed at her head. He was the more unstable of the two, but he wouldn’t risk a round going through her and into his brother.

“I love you, too, Ronald,” she winked at him, and when Reggie’s grip on her arm tightened, she pushed the barrel of the 9mm more firmly into his groin. He winced, and a satisfied shiver streaked down Valentina's spine. In the back of her mind there was a war going on between the monster that purred at her to pull the trigger and her humanity, that part that respected Reggie for his work ethic, and admired his ability to be a good husband and father despite his profession.

It's about damn time you got your head back in the game.

“Cole, you still with me back there?” Val called out without looking away from the glare Reggie was giving her. She reminded herself that he was there, and that his moral judgements against her were important to her goals. It quieted her internal struggle, even if it did nothing at all to ease the weight of her addiction. Therein was the heart of her sickness, the balancing act she played between being a human being and being a monster. Was it any wonder there was no room in her life for anything else.

You let him make you weak.

That nagging little voice was spoiling her high. Reggie must have noticed something amusing, because the left side of his mouth twitch. Val raised an eyebrow at him, but that just made him grin, and her lovely power trip tied before it could even get off the ground.
 
For the first time since he'd moved in, Cole wished that he'd done more with furnishing the apartment. Valentina caught on swiftly to the meaning of his arm-waving, and she waved right back, with a bemused "what the fuck, do you expect me to vanish in thin air?" expression on her face. They didn't need words to argue.

With nowhere to hide and no time sprint to safety, Valentina remained in the line of fire from the doorway. Goosebumps raised on his flesh and nausea settled in his gut at the idea of losing her. She was his last hope to nail Curic. Bullshit Cole, that's what you're telling yourself, but that's not the only reason, is it? Maybe not even the main one any more? He gritted his teeth, silenced the voice in his head and concentrated on their current predicament.

Why were they here, what were they after?

Valentina.

Why?

To take her to Viktor so he could find out what she knew, what she'd revealed and to retrieve what she'd stolen. Curic would relish the opportunity to personally extract information from Valentina in the most excruciating way possible, and make her pay for her insolence, which meant that the men would be under strict instructions to keep her breathing.

Cole hung back when they entered, his instincts proved right when they demanded she put her hands in the air head rather than pump her full of lead. Eyes moving to her, Cole nodded in approval when she told Ronnie and Reggie that he'd scampered down the fire escape. Still, that didn't advance their situation, and he turned his attention to the hired muscle.

Sooner or later, the Mexican stand-off would end. Dumb and dumber would either drag Valentina out alone and forget Cole, frightened that he waited in ambush in the other room and not wanting to risk it, or they'd shoot indiscriminately through the walls to bring him out of hiding. Both of their weapons were equipped with suppressors.

When he darted his gaze back to Valentina, her smile and coiled muscles gave away her intent. A chill crawled down his spine, but there was no way to stop her. Cole could only watch. Reggie's round face contorted in disbelief as she ran at him, but he let her come; a pussycat attacking a bear.

Next to her, his brother's mouth dropped open as he tried to figure out what was happening, and what to do about it.

The pussycat had claws. Despite the height and weight differential being far in Reggie's favour, she clung to his gun arm and hoisted it in the air.

“You’re fucking insane.”

Reggie was a little slow on the uptake. Cole had reached that same conclusion a minute earlier when she'd engaged the duo in banter more suited to a slapstick comedy than a life or death situation.

Continuing on with her crazy demeanour, she taunted him and licked his face.

Possibly there was a method behind her madness.

The man's jaw dropped when she pressed the barrel of her weapon to his family jewels, while Ronnie hopped from foot to foot, raising and lowering his gun. A picture of indecisiveness.

"Hold your fire." Reggie gasped. Addressing not the woman, but his brother, who he obviously trusted less not to miss.

Then no more children for Reggie.

"As for you." Conciliatory now, he returned to Valentina. "Calm down. We go back a long way, and that's why we're here. Viktor's concerned about the company you're keeping. Come quietly, and we'll sort it all out. Nothing to get your panties in a twist over."

“Cole, you still with me back there?”

"Right here." The assailant's necks twisted around at the proximity of his voice, and Whittaker exploded from his hiding spot in a blur of movement. Arm raised, he introduced Ronnie's face to his fist. Cole's knuckles impacted the point of the hoodlum's chin with such force that it sent spasms of pain shooting all the way up the Marshall's shoulder, and almost took Ronnie's head clean off.

The man swayed back and forth on buckled legs before he submitted to gravity and toppled like a felled tree. Unconscious with only the whites of his eyes visible, insult was added to injury when his skull cracked cement through the threadbare carpet. Ronnie wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Not stopping to admire his work, Cole continued on to Reggie in one fluid action. Despite the other man's size and apparent lack of intelligence, he possessed a keen athletic ability and reflexes. "Son-of-a-fucking-bitch." Doing what he should have done earlier, Reggie swatted Valentina's gun arm away and with a forceful shove, sent her tumbling ass over tit on the carpet. The weapon Cole had gifted her no longer pointed at his balls, it fell to the floor.

With the Valentina problem momentarily solved, Reggie twisted and raised his .45 at the same time Whittaker launched.

Flying through the air horizontal to the ground, time slowed. He stared down the blue-steel chasm, seeing every notch and groove in the metal as Ronnie depressed the trigger and the chamber rotated. He'd be dead before he heard the shot.

BANG.

Time sped-up.

Smoke wafted in the air, the acrid smell of cordite permeated the room, and there was a hole in Cole's ceiling. His shoulder had rammed into Reggie's solar plexus, knocking his aim off, and he'd trapped him in a bear-hug.

Momentum carried them backwards five yards before he'd hooked a foot around the back of Reggie's ankle and drove him into the ground. Every last breath departed the man's lungs in a pained grunt, and the smoking gun dropped to his side.

"Give me an excuse." Cole clambered astride Reggie, flicked off the safety on his Glock and jammed the muzzle between his teeth.

He looked around for Valentina. "You are one goddamn psychotic bitch." Admiration tinted his tone. "Do not try that again."

Underneath him Reggie grunted, mouth open and gasping for air. It'd be a minute or two before he regained some fight. Still, Cole pulled the gun from his mouth and smacked the stock against his cheek hard enough to burst a blood vessel and for the skin to start swelling. "Shut up."

Then, after unhooking the cuffs from his utility belt, he tossed them to Valentina and nodded at Ronnie who remained prone on the floor. "What do you wanna do with your friends after we're finished here? Leave them for the cops or send 'em back to Curic with a note stapled to their foreheads?"

Protocol said one thing, Cole's hard-on for Viktor said another.

When Reggie grunted with more urgency on hearing the threat, Cole struck him with the pistol again. "I said shut up. Don't speak until you're fucking spoken to."

Whatever they did, the man was going to have a hell of a shiner to explain to his wife.
 
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Viktor’s concerned about the company you’re keeping.

Valentina ignored the little ping of panic that went off in the back of her mind. If he already knew the gritty details of her disappearance, then what else might he already know? Behind her eyes she was replaying every step she had taken in the last week. She’d been careful, but there was a mistake somewhere. Everything was happening too quickly. She should have had more time. What had she missed?

“You can run, Val” he’d said, “I don’t mind.” Viktor’s words were like a fly buzzing in her ear. No matter how much she tried to get them out, they just came back. Had he known then? A coldness squeezed around her heart to add a new weight to the everything that threatened to bring her world crashing down, and a seething rage boiled up to meet it.

“Right here,” Cole’s voice had a calming effect on her frantic mind that was something like throwing a bucket of ice water over a fire. The violent outburst that had been lingering just beneath the surface vanished before it had been given the chance to fully form. As Reggie and Ronnie turned to look in the direction of his voice, Cole burst from behind the wall. You could learn something about how a man fought. When a brawler hit someone, they always staggered off in the opposite direction from which they were hit. Sure, it hurt, but the attack was ineffective. When a fighter hit someone, they didn’t go staggering off or falling over, they folded like an accordion and dropped straight to the ground. That was exactly what happened to Ronnie. Cole hit him, and the man dropped straight to the ground like an empty sack of potatoes.

Val was immediately impressed as much as she was envious. She had never once been able to do that to anyone, man or woman.

Cole didn’t pause, or look her direction, not even as Reggie swept an arm under her own to sweep her weapon away from his body. Instinct said to pull the trigger, experience made her lay her trigger-finger along the side of the gun so that she didn’t accidently shoot herself or Cole. Reggie planted his free hand into her sternum, and Val grunted out a whoop of air as she fell back. What air was left in her lungs left as she hit the floor and left her gasping. The momentum carried her over until she lay flat on her stomach. She must have hit her hand somewhere along the way, because her knuckles ached, her fingers where numb, and the gun had slid away from her.

Val’s eyes were watering from the pain in her chest as she looked up to see Reggie twisting to level his barrel at Cole’s head. Suppressors didn’t work like they did in the movies, creating those tiny pffts of sound. Even with a suppressor, the crack of a firearm going off could stop the heart of those that knew the sound intimately… or so she was telling herself. Valentina had never been the kind of woman to scream, but in that moment her mind screamed for her. The all too familiar scent of gunpowder filled the room just as she finally sucked air back into her lungs, and then Cole bodily drove Reggie to the ground.

As the pair fell in a heap of arms and legs, Val scrambled across the thin, scratchy carpet to snatch up the S&W. As she got to her feet, it was just in time to see Cole stuff the barrel of his Glock between Reggie’s teeth. A shiver went down her spine at the sound of Cole’s voice, and then his gaze came around to her. An unexpected warmth hit her blood stream and she hesitated, expecting… something, nothing good, disappointment, anger, outrage? What she got instead made her relax and holster the S&W. Unless she was mistaken, there was something akin to approval in his tone, even if he had just called her a psychotic bitch… not that Val would refute that claim.

“I can’t make any promises,” she responded, raising an eyebrow at him when she back handed Reggie with his firearm. A moment later he tossed her the cuffs from his belt, which she caught on the move as she walked over to where Ronnie lay drooling on the threadbare floor. It was not lost on her that she was sexually aroused at a most inappropriate time, or that she had feared the Marshal’s displeasure, and warmed at his veiled praise. It was too painfully obvious to deny it or right it off as the adrenaline and endorphins talking, but that didn’t mean she had to grace any of it with her attention.

“Sending them to the cops won’t do us any good,” she fussed as she rolled Ronnie onto his chest and yanked his arms behind his back. The cuffs slipped into place with a series of satisfying clicks, and then she stood to look down at him as her mind turned over the problem in her head. Getting picked up by the NYPD was like having a personal limo services for these two. Val frowned down at the man, the fingers of her right-hand twitching. They wouldn’t let this go, they couldn’t, and it would be wise to kill them now and be done with it.

And then, there was the Marshal to consider. Not calling this in was a serious breach. Come to think of it, it was the kind of slip-up that could end a man’s career. All the questions that would need answering, actions that would need explaining. She wondered if he even realized just how close he was to the edge of the cliff. He’d lifted the notorious Valentia Ricci from custody without a word to anyone, he’d been operating outside the book without a word to any superior or his partner, and now he had Viktor’s clean-up crew in his apartment, and he wasn’t doing the things he should be doing. Something inside Val coiled up tight like a snake waiting to strike and she licked her lips subconsciously.

“I think there is something they can tell him for me,” she rejoined as she bent down to pick up Ronnie’s fire arm. She then crossed the room to pick up Reggie’s, too. At the very least, they’d have to go find new weapons before they gave chase.

“You can run, Val,” his voice echoed through her thoughts again, and Val shivered at the memory of Viktor standing close behind her. His thick fingers had slid across the back of her neck to slide her hair over her shoulder. His breath had touched her skin before his lips, and he’d laughed at the way the baby-hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end. “I don’t mind.”

She could have walked away from the job. Maybe then she wouldn’t have gotten caught, and she wouldn’t have had to make a deal. If she hadn’t made a deal, then she wouldn’t be standing next to Cole Whittaker, watching him fall steadily deeper into her world, inches from that line that stood between his life and ever going back to it.

How much did he know?

Valentina bent at the hips to set her chin on Cole’s shoulder so that she could smile down at Reggie. There was death in his eyes, but his and his brother’s weapons where in her hands.

“Viktor is headed west,” she intoned slowly, as much for Cole as for Reggie. “A couple of bad business deals means that fish just as big as him want him dead. He’s not safe in New York, but Viktor has big plans in the west, and despite the risks, he’s safer there. If he can push through the deals he has in the works, he would be untouchable here, because he would own the silk road and every one that walked it. All trade between west and east in human, drug, and gun trafficking, and every laundered dollar in the US would flow through his hands. If he came tumbling down, all of it would, so it is in their best interest to keep Viktor happy, because his connections would make them all utterly untouchable. The US would become the dominate trading floor of every dirty deal in the criminal market worldwide.”

Reggie was glaring at her, but Val only smiled. “What, you think I don’t pay attention when other people speak?” She wondered if his mind turned back to all the times they had crossed paths before the way hers did. A little snippet of information there, a slip of the tongue here, a woman in a pretty dress just waiting for her date by the door, not paying them any mind.

“Because of you,” Val began, stopped, and then sighed as she straightened up.

“Tell him he can run,” she growled at Reggie before she lifted her foot and planted her heel into his chin. His jaw clicked, and his eyes lulled, but he’d be awake again soon. So, would his brother.
 
Looking over at Valentina, Cole's eyes glowed with excitement and satisfaction. Despite the man he'd pinned to the ground outweighing him by twenty pounds of solid muscle, he half hoped he'd recover his breath and put up a struggle. Whittaker felt invincible. "I wouldn't expect any promises from you," Cole laughed at her comment before he flexed his hand, grimaced, and not-so-gently tapped Reggie's cheek with the pistol. "Think I broke my damn knuckles on your brother's face."

Or exacerbated the injury sustained the previous night when he'd slammed his fist into the kitchen table. Valentina could remain oblivious to that incident with the two now getting along so famously.

"True, they'd be released in five minutes, ' he replied. Reggie huffed beneath him as he twisted to watch Valentina bend over and place the shackles on Ronnie. It struck Cole that she knew what she was doing with the handcuffs. It also struck him that nature had blessed the woman with a fine ass.

Why the fuck was he checking that out now?

A shift of Reggie's hips brought Cole out of his reverie and he forced his gaze away from Valentina's butt.

"You're dead, Whittaker." A shiver crawled down Cole's spine at Reggie's tone. There was no anger in it; the words were simply a promise. The two stared at each other before Cole pressed the muzzle of the Glock to the man's forehead hard enough to indent the skin. His finger curled around the trigger, but Reggie didn't flinch, certain that Cole wouldn't go through with it. Not in cold blood. A smile curled up the corner of his lips after Cole's finger moved from the trigger. "Should have killed me when you had the chance."

Call it in, or let them go? Cole struggled to find a justification for the latter.

As it stood, no-one apart from Viktor's trusted lieutenants, such as Ronnie and Reggie, would know of Valentina's betrayal. It'd be a stain on Curic's vanity. Involve the cops and even if the brothers were released without charge, the reasons for them being picked up would get out. Bad for Viktor, but worse for him and Valentina. Once their partnership became public knowledge, every two-bit hoodlum would be on the lookout, keen to ingratiate themselves with Curic by calling in a sighting or attempt to play the hero and take them out.

It made more sense to let the duo go free.

"Like I said, give me an excuse." Cole pulled the weapon away and shifted back to provide Valentina room to lean over Ronnie and say her piece. Listening, Cole's eyes widened. As he soaked it all in, he moved his attention from her to Reggie to gauge his reaction. The man's cold expression confirmed that she'd hit the nail on the head.

Thanks for fucking tell me.

He'd raise that with her later. Only a brief glare as he mulled over what the revelations meant for their plans provided any hint of his annoyance before Ronnie's jaw clicked and his head lolled back.

Holy shit, where did she learn that?

"Impressive, you're a woman of many talents." Hiding his shock at the ease with which she'd put the man to sleep, Cole clambered off Reggie, shook his head at Valentina, "Some of which are quite frightening," and bent to search the man's pockets.

"See if you can unlock this." He held up a cell phone, tossed it on the sofa cushion a couple of feet away from Valentina, and walked across to Ronnie. "And this." A second phone landed next to the first before he dragged the man past Reggie, propped him against the wall, then pulled his brother across to join him.

"I assume you didn't think I needed to know any of that until now?" Arching a brow at Valentina, Cole removed a spare set of flex-cuffs from his belt and shackled the duo's wrists to the radiator. When Ronnie groaned in protest and his eyes fluttered open, Cole planted his foot on the man's forehead and slammed his skull against the plaster, sending him back to dreamland. Not as painless as Valentina's effort with Reggie, but equally as effective.

"That'll give us time to get clear." Finished with Ronnie and Reggie, he straightened and turned to her. "Unless you'd rather wait for them to wake up and go another round? Something tells me that you enjoyed this little episode more than you should." He smiled, "Although I'll admit, you're not alone." Cole had been itching to knock someone out cold ever since he and Valentina had partnered up. Coincidence? He thought not.

The issue was now that the danger had receded, Cole remained on a blood-pumping, nerve-jangling high and his mind had switched to alternative ways to flush the adrenaline from his system. "We do make quite the team, don't we?" Like finishing what she'd started that morning. "So much so that I'm starting to regret not screwing you in the shower." In classic Whittaker fashion, he denied the truth of that desire by sarcastically expressing it aloud, and changed tack. "Now let's go before more unexpected visitors drop by. These assholes have already fucked-up my schedule."

As had the fact that it appeared he and Valentina would soon need to embark on an unexpected - and unauthorised - trip West. That hadn't been on Cole's radar and neither had a long-term absence from his other cases. His partner, not to mention his superiors, would be pissed. If he told them.

"I'll even let you drive."

In for a penny, in for a pound. What was one more disobeyed regulation.

"Just promise not to play with the flashing lights and siren."
 
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“You should be afraid of me,” Val muttered as she dropped the pair of weapons on the couch to pick up the cellphone Cole had tossed her way. Ronnie’s phone followed, and she slipped Reggie’s into her back pocket. If one of them was going to have a stupid easy password, it was going to be the little brother, and she was betting they were both dark phones and untraceable, so they might prove useful in more ways than one.

“That information was my bargaining chip,” she reminded Cole as she tried Ronnie’s dog, Bruce, for his password – no dice. “If you recall I did sorta have to bribe you into this.” She glanced up to wink at Cole, her playful tone hiding the unease that was making her stomach roll. Something that eased a little when she found herself grinning because Cole Whittaker was teasing her. Of course, he had been itching to hit something. Probably her. But, the comment still made her grin.

“I did have fun,” she admitted, surprised at the ease with which she admitted it. They were teasing one another and smiling. How had that happened, exactly? Thus far teasing had been pointed barbs followed by veiled – or not so veiled – insults and shouting. What changed?

Holy fuck, we are bonding!

Val chuckled at her own thoughts as she tried a couple more names important to Ronnie on the phone. “I might need a laptop to get into these,” she spoke up after a couple of seconds before sticking Ronnie’s cellphone into her bra for safe keeping. She also picked up their firearms but came up short when Cole suggested she should drive. She opened her mouth to say something, and then snorted at the man when he told her to promise not the play with the flashing lights and siren.

“Didn’t I just tell you something about not make promises,” she teased him back as she held the weapons out to him. “I don’t make them unless I actually plan on keeping them, and I never keep them.” Val let Cole take the guns before she reached into his front pocket to steal the keys. It was a small thing, but it brought them close enough that her heart fluttered in her chest. Val breathed in the scent of him, and the undercurrent of misplaced arousal doubled. The temptation to flatten her hand against his thigh and test the solid muscle through the thin layer of jeans made Val hesitate. Her silver gaze slid up to meet his, and a heartbeat passed before she smiled and jingled the keys in her palm.

If only, the woman mentally tallied a short but exciting list of things she wanted to do to Cole Whittaker in that moment, and then reminded herself that it just wasn’t going to happen as she brushed past him to trot down the stairs. Valentina felt ravenous, and when she hit the first floor and rushed out the front door, it was to run away from him. There was a certain comfort in the delicate peace that had settled in between them, and she didn’t want to ruin it.

Not that it mattered.

Not really.

--

There were sirens in the distance. Rain was still slashing against the dingy window so plastered with dirt that three straight hours of heavy rain hadn’t even made a dent. It looked like a window that was meant to sit at ground level in basement, but it served as the only way to let cool air into the rusted and dusty bathroom of the grimy hotel they’d had to stop in. There was barely enough space between the sink, toilet, and bath tub for Val to have a spot of floor to sit one. The linoleum was cracked and peeling, something she had made worse over the last hour or so from picking at it. The walls were a sickly yellow wallpaper that was streaked with brown stains and stank of mold. The sink was chipped, the toilet ran endlessly, and the tub was an unhealthy grey, and yet the mirror over the sink was spotless. She had been trying to reason out just why that was a thing in order to distract her mind.

The image of Ash’s blood shot eyes bulging out of his face, his mouth open in a silent scream, the tongue missing… it wouldn’t get out of her head.

Val closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her palms into them as her heart beat spiked again. It came in waves, and she gasped for air in short bursts. She tried to see Ash in his wonderful, gaudy, fabulous way, tittering over some guy he met at a bar or club… and then it morphed into that ruin had been his end and another sob racked her body. There was no sound left to it, her throat to raw to produce it, but she felt it well through her and shake her body all the same.

Cole had tried to protect her from it. He’d found Ash’s body before she had. He’d tried to stop her, but she’d had to see. Val had known Ash from her time in foster care, he had been the closest thing she had to family. Now he was gone and…

Breathe.

She was holding her breath, and Val made herself let it go.

How long had he held her while she had screamed and cried?

It was difficult to think about. She was so small and weak, and he’d carried her out of there. The flash drive was gone, too. Everything was gone. It was no wonder Ronnie and Reggie hadn’t been more forceful about obtaining her. Chances where, they had already killed Ash, found the drive, and then come after her. Viktor had everything he wanted, short of retribution for disloyalty.

Val shuddered and wrapped her arms more tightly around her knees.

If they were going to move forward, she had to start thinking again. If she stayed like this, she’d die. That was all there was too it. Viktor would win. The idea cut through the pain like a knife, creating some small moment of clarity. A good long cry had helped, too. She wasn’t sure how long it had lasted, but her mind was clearing. Cole had been with her through most of it. He’d gotten her out of there, picked up Ash’s laptop for her, packed her into his car, and then drove until long after the sun had gone down. It’d been raining endlessly, and she had no idea where they were anymore, and at some point, he had left.

Where had Cole gone?

Oh yeah, food.

He’d gone to get food.

Valentina’s stomach rumbled as she remembered. She was starving, and exhausted, and she needed to move. She groaned as she reached up to grab the chipped sink and pull herself to her feet, and immediately hated the perfectly clean mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face was pale, and the tip of her nose was chapped from blowing her nose. She ran the cold water until the brown water turned clear, and then splashed her face a few times. It helped the redness, but she still looked like death warmed over. Cole had left her tucked into one of the beds with sheets that smelled like a curious mix between dust and detergent, but Val had locked herself in the bathroom and huddled under the sink in a vain attempt to feel safe.

She reached for the door handle, but hadn’t even touched it before the shaking settled back in. Cole wasn’t there to keep her safe, and fear kept her from opening the door. Val clenched her teeth against it and the fresh welling of tears that threatened to spill over.

If you’re too scared to go on, then Viktor had already won this game. You may as well just crawl back up under the sink and die for all the use you are.

Val looked down at the dirty spot of floor that had been her hiding place and frowned at it.

“I am not a coward,” she muttered at the filthy floor as if it were somehow it’s fault for how she felt.

You can’t even open the door. Yes, you are a coward.

Val kicked the door, and then cussed as she reached down to rub her bruised toes. As she set her foot back down she laughed at the absurdity of her behavior, only to be struck quiet by how odd the sound seemed.

How could she be laughing?

How could she be crying?

Why wasn’t she angry?

You are angry, you just haven’t noticed it yet.

Now that she thought about it, she felt the emotion well up out of nowhere. She choked on it, and then started shaking again. Viktor had finally taken everything she had. Ash was the one little spec of her humanity she’d clung to. That part of her that was good and kind and loved life, it had died with him. What bothered her, what really bothered her, was that she had let it happen. She hadn’t known anything had happened. She hadn’t even known Ash was at risk.

How had Viktor known about him?

You let Ronnie and Reggie live.

Val’s shaking eased as that sank in. She’d let Ash’s killers go scot-free because she’d thought about their families, and about Cole’s perception of her person. Next time she saw them, she wasn’t going to let that get in the way. Her priorities began to shift, and Valentina’s mind began to settle into a comfortable place. Reggie and Ronnie where almost certainly going to be coming after them. That was good, because she was going to kill them.

Slowly.

And then Viktor.

Val frowned. She was still going to need Cole to get to Viktor, but things had changed. With or without Cole’s help, Valentia was going to watch Viktor die. Val ran her hands through her hair. That put her at odds with everything. The flash drive was gone, he buyer was out, not that it really mattered anymore, but it could cause problems later. She smiled as she thought about telling Cole who the buyer was, but then decided against it. He didn’t need to know that until he needed to know.

So, what’s next then?

Ash had a back-up. He was diligent, he always had a back-up. Cole had grabbed his lap top.

Val came out of the bathroom in a flurry of movement. The seedy hotel room was pretty standard. She hadn’t really noticed before, but it had one king size bed, a couple arm chairs by a short, triangular table, some lamps, and a tv that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day since the late 80’s. Combined with the 70’s, green-shag carpet and dark brown, black-out curtains, and maybe once upon a time it had been a hip hotel. As it was, none of it mattered more than finding Ash’s laptop.

By the time Cole returned, Val was laying across the bed with the laptop open, digging through files and trying to find out just where Ash had decided to stash the copy. She lost her shoes and pants in the name of comfort and was wearing that cute little one piece she’d completely forgotten about and the long shirt she’d picked up from the GAP.

“Hey,” she greeted him as he came in without looking up from the laptop. “Sorry about the water works, earlier. Are the rest of my clothes still in the car? I need to change.”
 
"I bribed you into it? If memory serves correctly, you contacted me with an offer I couldn't refuse." Cole arched a brow, and smiled, allowing his gaze to move down her face and run over Valentina's form. "Curic, of course. I also said that your talents were frightening, not that they instilled fear in me. There's a difference. Plus, " Cole displayed the fist with which he'd knocked Reggie into next week, knuckles swollen and bruised, and winked. "I'm not bereft of my own, even if they are less subtle than yours."

Strange, considering the two men bound to the radiator and the urgency to leave, that Cole was enjoying the teasing banter and didn't want the conversation to end. However, end it must before Ronnie and Reggie's friends came searching. 'If the laptop doesn't work, I have a friend in the lab who should be able to get into them." Motioning to the phones she'd been unable to unlock, Cole hoped that wouldn't be the case. Calling in outside help was his last resort. Until they had Curic in shackles, he intended to stay under the radar and out of contact of his superiors as far as he could. When the mission was over, he'd be hauled over the coals, but that concern could wait. Hopefully, they'd agree that the ends had justified the means.

Valentina's surprise when he offered to let her drive was evident, but Cole had his reasons. The main one being to ensure she sat up front rather than took up her customary place in the back. As she approached, her honesty elicited a laugh, "One day you'll keep a promise,' before she stopped an inch away and his breath caught in his throat. Valentina's scent flowing into his nostrils and the proximity of her body while he towered over her reignited memories of the shower.

Cole's legs tensed and his breathing stilled when her fingers dipped into his pocket; the heat of her hand resting on his thigh threatening to ignite his arousal. Eyes locked, he wondered if the look of desire he saw in her expression was real or imagined before she removed his keys and brushed past him on her way downstairs. Perhaps it'd only been a reflection of his. "You do have a licence, don't you?"

--

The positive vibes were destroyed by the discovery of Ash's body.

Cole had been the first to notice the front door ajar as they'd approached her friend's house; the sight sending his heart racing and the adrenaline returning in full force.

"Stay there,' he'd hissed at Valentina before he unholstered his weapon and inched his way through the door.

Three feet in, his mouth opened in shock when he saw what awaited them. A man sat bound to a wooden chair in the living room, ripped shirt hanging off his body to display his mutilated flesh. Lumps, knife wounds and scorch marks adorned his face and torso, and his head lolled back; mouth open and tongue ripped out. At his feet in a pool of blood lay three of his teeth, with the nerves still attached. A kitchen-knife handle protruded from his gut, the blade skillfully placed to miss vital organs. It'd have taken Ash an hour or more to bleed out.

"Shit." After slamming his foot into the hallway wall hard enough to shatter the plaster, "Those goddamn fucking assholes, I should've killed the cunts when I had the chance," he pirouetted back to face Valentina.

She'd ignored his request to stay outside.

His murderous rage had softened when he saw the expression on her face, and her eyes directed at her friend's corpse. Valentina's mouth opened and he readied himself for her scream, yet that didn't stop the piercing howl of grief from sending goose bumps down on his spine when it came. Still, he restrained the urge to jump in front of Valentina and shield her from the sight. The man had been her friend, and he didn't possess the right to deny her of seeing how he'd died or of the opportunity to say goodbye.

"Enough." After a few seconds, he'd approached her, placed an arm around Valentina's shoulder, and pulled her against his chest. How long he'd stood, struggling to calm her anger while the sobs racked her body and she kicked, screamed and soaked his shirt with her tears, Cole had no idea. It could've been a minute; it could've been an hour. Eventually, she'd calmed enough so that he could carry her to the car. "There's nothing we can do for him, Valentina. Remember Ash how he was."

Once they were both inside, Cole remained silent. Jaw set in determination and gripping the steering wheel firmly enough to turn his fingers white, he left Ash behind and drove West.

Towards Curic.

--

"I hope you like Chinese." Cole had checked them into the Quality Inn in a nondescript town, fours hours south-west of New York.

False advertising, if he'd ever seen it.

It's facade crumbling, paint peeling and walls streaked with the graffiti, the hotel offered rooms for twenty-nine dollars a night, including free XXX. They also rented them by the hour. Not the most elegant accommodation, but Cole had been here previously to collect an on-the-run whore and witness in a drug case and knew that if he slipped the clerk further twenty over the counter, he'd ignore state law and not demand a registration form, show of identification or credit card imprint. While, with its increased security, Curic couldn't trace Government-issued expense card's transactions and pinpoint his location, the US Marshal's accounting apartment sure could, and using a personal one would be pure suicide. He'd call Parker from a pay-phone in the morning to determine what kind of shit-storm he'd brewed up.

Despite the run-down appearance, the room itself was relatively clean, and the sheets on the bed looked fresh. The one bed that, unless Cole decided to 'keep sentry' during the night, he'd share with Valentina. Walking in, he appraised her in the one piece and shirt, but this time the visage of her bared flesh didn't immediately evoke sexual thoughts. Her earlier display of vulnerability and the depth of feeling buried within her had further pierced Cole's armour, and he remained concerned about how she was coping. In the car, alone, his stomach had coiled in knots and he'd almost thrown up. Having witnessed the sadism inflicted on Ash, he could only imagine the special treatments that would have awaited an attractive, female Valentina if the twins had succeeded in capturing her at his apartment.

"Not in the car," he replied, displaying the GAP and Victoria's Secret bags in one arm. Cole had parked his vehicle two blocks away in the lot of another hotel, switched the plates with a Philadelphia registered pick-up and removed their luggage. He tossed the packages in front of her, "Cole Whittaker at your service," and comfortingly squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry about the waterworks.'

"I hope you like Chinese." His other arm full, Cole dropped the knapsack containing his clothes on the bed and placed two plastic bags on the table. From the first, he removed plastic two takeout containers and from the second, a six-pack of Corona. "Chicken Chow Mien, Sweet and Sour Pork, Fried Rice and Spring Rolls." After he'd doled out food onto paper plates, Whittaker cracked two beers and sat at the table.

Meeting Valentina's gaze, his expression was sombre. "I'm sorry about Ash, but that they went to the lengths they did tell me that the information on those tapes has Curic shitting his pants. We've got the man starting to run scared, and I guarantee Valentina, once we get to Viktor, I'll help you make him pay for Ash. Ronnie and Reggie too. However, we can't go off half-cocked or make rash decisions driven by anger. So forget that for a while," Cole nodded at the laptop, 'and come eat. I want to hear what you've found, what was on the tapes, and where it came from. We'll go direct to the source, and I don't care how many fucking doors we need to break down, or heads we need to kick. It's you and me now. No secrets; no broken promises."

Lifting a Corona to his lips, Cole's eyes crinkled slightly above the rim as he attempted to lighten the mood by, as he had with the Master Suite the night before, offering an inducement. "Be a good girl, hold nothing back, and I'll let you have your preferred side of the bed." Forgetting that they'd established in their argument outside Victoria's Secret that, by own her admission, Valentina Rossi couldn't be a good girl if she tried.
 
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Well that’s surprisingly thoughtful, Val mused as she sat up. The door to the hotel room closed behind Cole, and she smiled when he held up her bags – half from amusement, and half to hide her little moment of panic.

When the door had opened, she’d nearly leapt off the damn bed to run back into her hiding place beneath the sink in the dirty bathroom. It had been a fleeting thing, but she was glad she had decided against keeping a gun within arm’s reach. She was twitchy, and nervous, even though it was ridiculous to be so paranoid. The chances of anyone knowing anything about where they had gone were slim to none. Reggie and Ronnie’s phones were burn phones. She’d managed to unlock the both of them fairly easily once she’d hooked them up to Ash’s laptop. The darling of a man had programs one standby for just such an occasion. Valentina knew her fair share when it came to hacking, but Ash had been an artist. Neither had offered much information that seemed relevant to her, but she was planning on passing them off to Cole. The texts where strictly between the two phones, but there was a lengthy list of calls made and received. Viktor’s private line was there a time or two, but she didn’t know any of the others.

“Thank you,” she answered him as he tossed the bags on the bed. Before she could get up, he paused to set his hand on her shoulder and give it a squeeze. He told her not to worry about the water works, and Valentina just nodded. He meant well, but the ache in her chest ripped right back open again. She reached up to rest her hand over his, but his touch was gone before she had the chance.

That was good.

The bonding was great and all, but Val didn’t want to get too attached. She was starting to like the man, and that was going to get in the way if she wasn’t careful. Particularly if he kept being so damn kind. Uncomfortable with her growing affinity for the man, Val turned her attention back to the Ash’s laptop, until her bags landed on the bed next to her.

“I love Chinese, actually,” she spoke as she pulled the Victoria’s secret bag toward herself and began to rummage through it. “Particularly Spring Rolls,” she decided to add when he mentioned them. Really, anything would have been good, but there was something comforting about the Chinese takeout. While he served up a couple of paper plates, Val set aside a light shirt and a pair of underwear to change into before dumping all of her things into the GAP bag and then setting the Victoria’s secret bag aside for their trash.

And then, she hesitated as he sat in one of the arm chairs by the short table. He opened two beers, one obviously for her, but Val found that she was unable to bring herself to move. She wanted very much to go seek the comfort the came from just being near to another human being, and yet the motivation to make the effort evaded her. Cole had become simultaneously a source of safety, and something to be feared and avoided, and the two perspectives where at war with each other. The man that had expressed nothing but loathing for her a few days ago was the same man that had held her together. He was at once the greatest threat to her future freedom, and the only protector or ally that she had left.

Cole Whittaker, the U.S. Marshal, was cold, unfeeling, distant, and ruthless.

Cole Whittaker, the man, was thoughtful, kind, warm, and protective.

The two were each a face of the same man, opposite sides of the same coin, but neither fully expressed the complexity of the duality that he was to Valentina herself. She wasn’t even entirely certain she could express what he was to her. Maybe that was why she hesitated. He was either enemy or ally, but her mind couldn’t settle on just which he was. He was also either a strength or a weakness, and that was the bigger question. What had he said to her earlier that day?

You’re scared to let anyone behind the wall you put up.

Maybe he was right about that. Look what happened to her when she lost one of them. Somehow, it was so much worse than what some of them had done to her over the years. Which one would Cole be? One she lost, or one that took something from her? Either way, she was the one that would suffer in the end.

Is the risk worth it?

Val didn’t like that question, and she was about to turn her attention back to the laptop when Cole’s dark blue eyes raised to catch her own. His expression said things she didn’t want to hear. And then, to make matters worse, he started to say things she didn’t want to hear, either. He apologized about Ash, and again her chest ached as painfully. Her eyes stung, and she blinked away the tears that threatened before they could fall. He was right, Viktor was worried. The man didn’t make mistakes, and the little slip-up of trusting a pretty face to be as dumb as he assumed it was had to be eating away at him. That, or the man had foolishly trusted her to be loyal.

Cole went on to promise that he would help her get Curic, Reggie, and Ronnie, and make them pay for what they had done to her friend. It struck her as interesting. He didn’t promise justice. He didn’t promise prison time. Cole was promising her vengeance. It was so much outside what she expected to hear that it took her off guard. He encouraged her to come over and eat, and Val closed the laptop, but she didn’t get up. He wanted to know what evidence she had and where it had come from. That wasn’t physically hard to provide, but there was a question of trust in it for her. How much was she willing to give, and was he using her vulnerable state against her? There was that chance. She certainly would have used it to her every advantage where she in his place.

Val smiled as the man tried to lighten the mood, and then slipped off the bed to pick up her beer from the table.

No Secrets.

No broken Promises.

Val took a long drink from the Corona while she considered her options. If nothing else, Cole was more amiable to her influence now than he ever had been before. She could use that. But, that thought soured her mood in a way that was deeply disturbing. She cared about lying to him… why the fuck did she care about lying to him? Damnit, but that was the source of the problem.

She cared.

I shouldn’t give a good God damn!

“We both know I’m not capable of being a good girl,” Val sighed as she set her beer down, and then took her seat in the other arm chair as she pulled her plate toward herself. He was trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated it even while she was struggling to decide what her next step was going to be.

“Ash had a program to get into cell phones,” she began. It wasn’t the topic he really wanted, of course, but it was where she felt the most comfortable. “Reggie and Ronnie’s phones are clean, no GPS or anything, but the only potentially useful information is a load of phone numbers I don’t know. You might have better luck with them.”

Just a minute ago she’d felt ravenously hungry. Suddenly, despite how wonderful it all smelled, she wasn’t sure she wanted any of it. She picked up a spring roll and made herself take a bite out of it. Her stomach did a little roll, but taste on her tongue made the food much more appealing again.

“I don’t think I am capable of telling you everything,” Val ventured slowly, not looking at Cole as she worked their situation over in her head, “At least, not yet. I can’t,” well, no, that wasn’t quite right, “I don’t trust you.” It seemed like a shameful thing to say to the man after everything that had happened over the last couple of days. If anyone should be untrustworthy, it was Valentina Ricci. “That sounds stupid even as I say, but it is the truth.”

She made herself take another bite. Her hunger was coming back, and it served as a distraction and a moment to think while she chewed. Having time to think didn’t completely help, however, as she found herself vividly confronted with the fact that she wanted to trust him.

I want him to trust me.

“Ah, hell,” Val sighed as she sat back in the wide armchair and pulled her legs up into the seat to sit cross-legged as she raised her attention to meet Cole’s ever watchful gaze. Those eyes that saw too much where watching her closely, and she wondered what they saw.

“Why must you make this so damn difficult?” she asked him with a smile. His nearness made her feel relaxed and comfortable. It was stupid, it shouldn’t have made her feel that way, but it did. “Can’t you go back to being mean and grouchy all the time? It was easy to lie to you when you hated me. This –“ she waved her arms vaguely around the room, “I don’t know how to do… this. Whatever this is. I know how to function when you’re the dutiful cop and I am the despicable villain. It makes sense. It’s… order in the chaos. This is… chaos.”

She was rambling, and she laughed softly at herself before taking another quick pull on her beer. He just had to go and treat her like she was a human being. On one side, she had him. He was exactly where she wanted him to be, but seduction and sex hadn’t gotten him there. Instead, her own vulnerability and frailty had brought out the white knight in him. She was human to him now, so he couldn’t treat her like she wasn’t. And, if he couldn’t treat her as if she wasn’t human… fuck. That meant she couldn’t treat him as if he weren’t a human, either. Despite everything, her stupid little heart was still making her weak.

“I never planned on taking on Viktor,” she started slowly, letting her thoughts fall into place as she spoke. “I wasn’t loyal to him, I’d done plenty of side work under his nose – and I believe he knew that – but he enjoyed having me around and I enjoyed the money he paid me. So long as I never stole directly from him, I was untouchable.” She smirked as she spoke. Val had believed that at one point. She really had been queen of the world for a little while there. “He didn’t ask much beyond clever work and occasionally having me dress all fancy and hang on his arm. Not a bad deal at the end of the day. I would have loathed sleeping with the man, but he did have the impression that I was his property.”

“Anyway,” she leaned forward as she rested her elbows on her knees, watching Cole for his reactions as she spoke. She was measuring him, looking to see if it was right to trust him. “I was set up, interestingly enough. I was so careful…” Val frowned, and then shook her head. “No, I thought I was careful. I let the illusion of safety make me careless. Scott Danko,” she sighed as she said the man’s name, a weariness settling on her shoulders. “He’s the buyer. I’m not sure what his angle on Viktor is, but I wasn’t in the position to ask when he made his… offer.”

Val shuddered, and then laughed at herself again. Apparently, her emotional instability had made her nerves a little raw. She’d gotten a chill thinking about it. Raising one of her arms, she smirked at the goosebumps on her skin and then rubbed her hand over her arm to smooth them away.

“What I have is the leverage he wanted, collected over several months. Pictures of Viktor with various Drug Lords and Crime Bosses, emails, phone calls, bank numbers, secret accounts, conversation I was lucky enough to walk up on, you name it. All on a flash drive I gave to Ash for safe keeping,” her voice cracked. Val drank some more of her beer, cleared her throat, and then reached for her plate of food.

“I was supposed to deliver it about a week ago, but Viktor got wise and I had to hide. From him and from Danko. He was pretty clear that a late delivery meant death, so I couldn’t go to him directly. I needed an out, and I needed help to get it,” Val paused. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she had called him because she knew he’d chase Viktor for her, but she couldn’t say it. “So, I called you.”
 
Glad to have had time to himself after checking them into the hotel, Cole returned hoping her emotions had settled. Comforting an upset woman wasn't his strong suit. That he'd empathised with Valentina while he held her close and she stained his shirt with his tears only exacerbated his mental fatigue. For the first time, he viewed her as more than an object of sexual desire and his ticket to Curic. She'd become a person with feelings and emotions, owner of both positive and negative traits, like the rest of the human race. Valentina and Cole weren't so different, nor was she so different from Jenny.

When he entered the hotel room, Cole exuded confidence. Despite whatever concerns he had, Whittaker determined to put on an act for Valentina so that Ash's death and what it meant for their plans wouldn't draw the couple into the depths of despair. Spreading the food on the table, he glanced up to note her expression change at his promise to exact revenge on Ronnie and Reggie. Cole wouldn't go looking to put a bullet through their heads, but if he could find an excuse to do so and have it ruled as justifiable Homicide, neither would he hesitate. He'd done it before.

His stomach rumbled as the aroma of the Chinese food wafted around the room, and Cole didn't wait for Valentina to join him before he dug in. At least he'd cracked a beer for her. He held a captured piece of pork at his lips and raised an eyebrow when she picked up the Corona; allowing time for his comments to sink in and for her to compose a response. "Deep inside, there's a good girl waiting to come out," Cole smiled, watching her take a seat and nodded in acknowledgement at the news the phones had provided nothing useful. He'd expected that.

Annoyance flared at her declared her lack of trust, and his fingers tightened around the chopsticks. However, that settled with her next comment. She'd not intended the remark as an insult or said it to cause offence. Instead, she'd answered with the honesty Cole had asked of her. "Because I'm a man, Valentina. Our mission on Earth is to make women's lives difficult."

Her uncertainty surprised and gratified Cole. The knowledge he affected Valentina on a personal level elicited a thrill of satisfaction and stalled his speech. "That'd be your conscience talking, and don't worry, given your penchant for knowing which buttons to press, you'll see grumpy Cole again soon enough." He'd quickly regained his composure.

Even if it pissed him off, he couldn't fault Valentina for withholding information, and Cole knew unless he got the thumbscrews out, he couldn't force her to reveal all the cards. Push too hard and he risked her vanishing into the night, leaving him with nothing at all. It was a balancing act. Blue eyes locked on hers, he nodded. 'Funny, saying you don't trust me is the most sincere statement I've heard come from your mouth. In your situation, I'd be the same, but let's be clear, as far as trust is concerned, I'm of a similar mind with you. Though I have more faith than I did yesterday, and it's increasing all the time. "Go on," Cole waved his chopsticks at Valentina, urging her to continue.

As she went on, Cole tried to keep his expression impassive, but couldn't stop his eyes widening at one revelation.

"I would have loathed sleeping with the man."

Did that mean she had or hadn't?

Not pertinent to the matter at hand, but it'd spiked his curiosity.

"Swim with sharks for long enough and you'll end up fish food." His gaze drifted over her shoulder with the mention of Scott Danko. and Cole sought to place the familiar name.

"So you're saying you accumulated dirt on Viktor, not for insurance, but to sell him out, and now both he and the buyer are on your tail?" He refocused on Valentina, "Are you aware of who Danko is? Or how fortunate you are not to be at the bottom of a fucking river by now?" Cole slapped the wooden tabletop, then stood and paced the room, mulling over their plight.

By the window, he parted the curtains and peered out at the car park beyond, silent and deserted, then pirouetted to face her. "Scott Danko, an ex-marine, now works as hired muscle for Uri Levinson. You've heard of him, haven't you?" He walked back to the table, pressed his palms to the table and leaned over, at eye level with Valentina. "Israeli industrialist with a billion dollar construction contract in Iraq. Pimp, people trafficker, munitions smuggler and all around asshole. Not a man you want to fuck with. However, his lapdog is our way to recover what we lost with Ash. Levinson would demand Danko collect information on Viktor from multiple sources and collate it; untraceable back to him."

Cole moved away from Valentina, retook his seat and arched a brow. "How polished are your house-breaking and hacking skills? If I got details of his security system, could I rely on you to gain us access to Danko's house and home computer network without tripping an alarm?"
 
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Throughout the whole painful experience, Cole made various comments. Some would have made her laugh under different circumstances. Particularly that line about men. That was exactly why they existed, to make life harder than it had to be.

And more fun, some part of her mind argued, but Val ignored it.

That dig about her conscience, however, made her want to snub him, if only because she knew that he was right. Not that she would ever admit that out loud. He softened it by admitting that she knew how to hit his buttons, and that strange sense of connection deepened. Red flags were propping up everywhere, alarms where blaring, and everything in her screamed to turn back now before it was too late, and she drove right off the cliff.

She was distracted from all that when Cole’s interest was peeked by her mention of sleeping with Viktor, or well, the lack there of. It was amusing, that tiny little moment gave her some insight on the man. He cared, but she wondered if it was simple curiosity, or a line that would make or break her? If she had slept with Viktor, would that ruin her more than her lifetime of crime had. The thief he saw as a human being. Of course, he had wondered at her past once already, back in that cramped little changing room. Did he believe the stories, she wondered, or was he just curious about her?

It was when his tone change that she first registered something was amiss. His focus shifted, and her hunger vanished again as all the alarm bells came back. This time, however, they were silenced by him smacking his hand on the table and making all the food and the beers jump in the air before he stood up and began to pace.

“No, actually,” Valentia drawled as she sat back and nursed the last of her beer. The food just wasn’t going down well, and she’d rather be drunk anyway. An empty stomach would make that happen faster. And… she reached over to where the Coronas sat… another beer. “I didn’t know his name until he snatched me up off the sidewalk.”

“However,” she paused as she rested the edge of the bottle cap against the side of the table, and then smacked it to make it pop off and go flying. The beer fuzzed a bit, and as she took a drink, she tossed the empty bottle into the Victoria’s Secret bag. “I am well aware how… lucky I am. Of course, it would be much more likely that they’d get my hooked on something and sell me rather than kill me. I’d be worth something that way.”

The horror of that thought somehow didn’t seem to touch her. Valentina knew very well that there were things worse than death. She’d seen a few. But there was something about the violation of her body that didn’t ring as horrible as she supposed it should have. Maybe it was just shock, but she was feeling like rape was damn low on the worst things that can happen to a person list. Being eaten alive by rats had to be worse.

“I don’t know Uri,” Val side as she dropped her head back and let her eyes close. Cole was bearing down at her with that ‘I see right through you,’ look while he stood before the window and she didn’t feel like seeing it. “I have heard the name Levinson, though. Or, read it somewhere, maybe,” her brow frowned. There was a headache forming behind her eyes. It wasn’t fair, she wasn’t even drunk yet. The damn hangover should have the common decency to wait until tomorrow morning. “I’m not sure.”

Val’s head came back up and she opened her left eye to peer at Cole critically. He was invading her space again. It annoyed her that her heart beat quickened. What was she thinking? They were talking business. Danko – Cole though he was a way to recover what they had lost from Ash? She didn’t see the connection, but as Cole explained, she slowly opened her right eye as well and sat up. He was right. If they had been poking around for information, they wouldn’t have put all their eggs into one basket. They had to have sought out other options. And, if nothing else, it would give her more time to try and figure out where Ash had backed up the data she had given him.

“I don’t usually B&E,” Val admonished as she noticed she’d already downed half of her second beer and set it down. “Typically I have them let me in and then I rob them blind. But, that obviously wort work in this case, so we’ll just have to play it old school.”

Val stood because she needed to move. The alcohol was starting to make itself known, and adrenaline was lacing her buzz as the need for action rose up to make her restless and too warm.

“If you get me the info, I can get us in,” she spoke as she took her turn at pacing around the small room. It was a mirror image of Cole, but she didn’t have time to think about that. As a matter of fact, Cole was the very thing she needed to get out of her mind. It was stupid. So horribly stupid. Shock, Alcohol, and a human need to comfort, that’s all it was. However, rationalizing it didn’t make the need go away. The opposite. It made it worse. Her pacing increased to compensate for the edgy nervousness that was settling in.

“I am not the artist Ash was,” she admitted, mostly because she needed to keep talking. “But, that laptop is holding every program I could possibly need to break through anything, and half of them will fit on the phones we stole.”

Val paused by the table to pick up her beer. She was about to take a drink, but then she set it back down and resumed her pacing. She could feel Cole's hands on her skin while she tried to push the images of the man – naked and stalking her through steam – out of her head. Her body had the worst way of getting all hot and bothered at the most inappropriate of times, an she resolutely told herself that was all this was. She wanted something to do, anything, and the idea of breaking into a dangerous man’s home and digging around in his office was just the high she needed.

It was just her dumb luck that Cole was extremely fuckable and sitting right over there with a look that suggested he knew, even if she very much doubted he did. Curious, Val glanced down at her chest, and then smirked. Sure enough, there was no missing the evidence. Neither the shirt, nor the lingerie, didn’t do a damn thing to hide the insistent peeks her nipples had become. She imagined Cole’s outraged and angry reaction, and then went back to her beer and took another drink. If he asked, she’d just claim to be too cold.

“A better question,” she spoke as she looked down at her food, realizing that she was never going to actually eat it. “Can you get the information I need? How long has it been now since you reported in? I know you have a partner; will he help you? What about what they find at your place when they go looking for you?”

Valentina was needling him. She knew she was poking the bear, but she did it anyway. It was a kind of madness that had taken her, and if she couldn’t get it out of her system one way… well, fighting was as good as fucking when it came to their relationship anyway.
 
"You're right Valentina, they'd hook you on heroin and sell you on the street. Still, better than being Curic's fuck pet." Cole's smile didn't reach his eyes when he re-took his seat. He'd noticed her interest flare at his earlier reaction, and it'd irked him she'd witnessed it. Let alone that he'd reacted at all.

Why did he care if she'd slept with Curic? Would it diminish his opinion of her if she'd done so enthusiastically?

Or would it be another black mark against the man for having already sampled what Cole Whittaker desired?

That last possibility he declined to ponder further in case he didn't like the answer.

Fortunately, Valentina provided other food for thought.

After broaching the idea of breaking into Danko's house, Cole placed the lids on the takeaway containers and tossed them aside. He was full, and Valentina appeared more intent on drinking than eating, the way she picked at her food and tore a fresh Corona from the six-pack. Eyes locked on her face, he chugged down the rest of his beer and awaited her reply.

Guilt and remorse having formed a knot in his gut, her response exacerbated his anxiety. Cole bit back on a retort; imagining how she savoured the fact it'd been Cole Whittaker, US Marshall, to suggest they commit an illegal break-and-enter. As she paced the room, Cole ripped the top off another beer. She wasn't the only one that needed a drink. Froth forming on his lips, half of the amber fluid disappeared in one gulp. After a long, exhausting and emotional day, the alcohol affected Cole more than it ordinarily would. Light-headed, he wiped his mouth with his hand and listened to her talk.

Under the table, Cole's foot tapped the floor as impatience and self-doubt flooded his nervous system. "I can get it," Cole replied, dreading the exchange with Murphy and the pressure he'd exert on him to source the information. It wasn't as if Cole could go waltzing into headquarters, log on to the Departmental software and download it himself. There were three unanswered voicemails from his partner and one from his Supervisor. The latter saying only, in his gravelly voice, What do you think you're playing at, Whittaker. Call me. He'd switched his phone off before re-entering the Hotel. "Give me a day."

What the fuck was he up to? Cole should not even have been considering what he proposed to Valentina. Not if he didn't want to be ex-US Marshall and end up sharing a cell next to Curic. But what other options were there? Toss Valentina in protective custody and go through the 'correct' channels to gain access to Danko's computer files? Without probable cause or sufficient evidence, no sane judge would grant a search warrant. All he had was Valentina and her skills.

As if she'd read his thoughts, she stepped in front of Cole and brought up the subject on his mind. With a smirk on her lips and mirth in her tone, it seemed Valentina found his predicament amusing. Or arousing. Cole hadn't missed the downward dart of her eyes, drawing awareness to the hard nipples that bled through the fabric of her top. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he stood.

"How and where I get it from is none of your concern, nor is my partner." Looming over her, Cole spat the words out, and seized either side of her jaw in his hand, "Who the hell do you think you are, my wife?"' He raised a brow and tilted her chin up, "Do your job properly is all I ask, and I'll take care of my business. Trip an alarm and what they discover at my apartment, how much I've pissed off my boss, or whether I've followed protocol is insignificant. We'll either be dead or in cuffs. So don't soak your panties, gloating you've got one over me, Valentina. Breaking into Danko's isn't foreplay, and it's not a joke."

His gaze drifted down to her tits as the tension reminded him of that between the two after they'd subdued Ronnie and Reggie. When the adrenaline in his veins sought another outlet of release. Unbidden, the visage of Valentina writhing in ecstasy while he'd fingered her to orgasm popped into his mind. The one time he'd been in control, with Valentina at his mercy.

"Cold?" He taunted before he released her chin and trapped one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, "It'll happen eventually, so let's get it over with. All you have to do is ask, or should I say, beg? Beg for me to screw you like I own you, Valentina." Gaze burning into her, Cole buried his free hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and hoisted her out of her seat.

While he pinned her to the table edge, Cole tweaked her nipple harshly enough to blur the line between pain and pleasure and jerked her head back, arching her body into his. "Can you do that?" He didn't care if she acquiesced or fought back like a cornered cat; as long as he wiped the mocking expression off her face and regained the ascendancy, “Don't worry, I'll still respect you in the morning.”
 
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It wasn’t until Cole stood up that Val was even aware that she’d gotten under his skin. She had become so numb to the threat of his wrath that the alarm bells didn’t start ringing until the Marshal grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his steely gaze head on. Her fogged mind sharpened still further as his tone hardened, and she smirked at him when he asked who she thought she was.

“Well, if I remember right,” she taunted him, feeling strangely empowered even as he tilted her chin higher to glower down at her, “You did call me your wife this morning, didn’t you?” Cole spoke right over her, trying to impress on her the danger in their plan, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. The risk didn’t mean anything. It was just another high, another hit, and she was just a junky, jonesing for a way to feel powerful and in control.

A moment later, though, she realized he had her all wrong.

For once, he didn’t know her mind. Cole looked at her like he could see her soul, but he only saw what he wanted to see. Val wasn’t lording one over on him, even if she could be. The great and moral, Marshal deciding to do a B&E over playing things by the book was worthy of gloating about, but that wasn’t it at all. He couldn’t see what she was hiding, and it made her laugh at him.

“Oh, it’s most definitely foreplay,” Valentina mocked as his eyes dropped. His attention settled on her chest, and her skin tingled beneath the thin confines of the light shirt and the nearly sheer one peace beneath it. They were useless as a form of defense against him, and as his hand dropped to catch one of her nipples and tease the painfully responsive bud, she may as well have already been standing there naked for all the good they did her. Damp heat gathered between her thighs so quickly that it almost brought her to her knees. A few short, wonderful seconds of open vulnerability came and went before she could really understand it, and then he had to go and open his mouth.

"It'll happen eventually, so let's get it over with. All you have to do is ask, or should I say, beg? Beg for me to screw you like I own you, Valentina."

Warm and ready became cold and vengeful in less time than it took for Cole to sink his hand into her hair and wrap into a tight fist against the nape of her neck. Val reached back to grab his hand at the same time that he hauled her out of her seat and onto her feet. She gritted her teeth and pushed against his shoulder to hold him back as he pinned her legs between him and the table. He didn’t give her time to think, or to breath, or to even begin to answer him. Whatever she had been ready to say was long gone, and before she could cuss at him for yanking her up by her hair, he made her yelp by twisting an already painfully sensitive nipple hard enough to make her rise onto her toes.

“God, damnit,” Val gritted between her teeth as she smacked away his hand with her free arm and then tried to shove him away. Cole Jerked her head back harder, arching her back and pressing her intimately against his chest. It instantly made her feel small and breakable, and all his strength that had made her feel so safe only a few hours ago was suddenly anything but.

A Bark of laughter burst out of her at his comment, and Val went still long enough to grin up at Cole. “You never respected me to begin with, and I wouldn’t beg you to piss on me if I was on fire.”

Lies, that very same madness that had been so eager to goad him into a fight spoke up. Val would be more than happy to beg him for exactly what he suggested. They were just words that were never, ever going to pass her lips while he was alive, walking the earth, and able to hear them. Besides, even with his gaze burning holes into her soul, Val wasn’t going to give him a damned thing that wasn’t on her terms.

Caught as she was between the table and his chest, she wasn’t going anywhere, and she couldn’t dislodge his hand from her hair any easier than she could free her legs. The smart son of a bitch had her good and trapped. All but one arm, and it was all she had available to her to try and turn the tides of this argument.

“I have a better idea,” Valentina purred up at the glowering Marshal as she slipped her free hand up his shirt. Beneath her fingers was all the tight, lean muscle she remembered, drawn taunt as much in enthusiasm to fuck her as in readiness for possible violence. Strangely, knowing that only excited her more. “Why don’t you beg me? I think you’d enjoy being fucked for a change.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. If this was going to happen, Val was determined to be the one in control of it, even if that meant putting herself squarely in the path of Cole’s masculine vengeance. They both needed somewhere to displace all the stress, tension, and adrenaline that plagued them, even if neither of them could admit the truth of it.

“Come on,” she taunted him further, smirking at his fury as if it meant nothing at all. “You know I like you better on the bottom. Beg me to fuck you like I own you, Cole.” Her hand slipped over his side and briefly feathered across the long scar that was hidden there before curling around him to press against his back. Her palm flattened between his shoulder blades and her lithe body shivered with anticipation. The nipple he had abused was still throbbing with pain, and in the effort to get a little payback, her long fingernails dug into his skin before they raked down the length of his back.
 
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If motivated by lust or the desire for sexual gratification, mocking Valentina and demanding she pleaded for his cock would be the last approach Cole would take to convince her into the sack. Instead, his treatment of Valentina was a surefire path to rejection, which best suited his purpose.

As he towered over her, the satisfaction he’d imagined he’d heard in her voice, perceived in her expression and read in her thoughts had his nerves on fire. Her manipulation of his obsession to capture Curic had led Cole to break his moral code and blaming her offered a salve to his guilty conscience. Cooped up in the hotel room, he thirsted to release his pent up fury. Every minute he and Valentina had spent together led to this inevitable confrontation. It wasn’t the potential for sex that aroused Cole, but the certainty she’d put a fight.

Did there exist a more volatile cocktail than fury, adrenaline, a battle of wills and sexual tension you could cut with a knife?

Owning an undeniable advantage in physical strength, he dragged Valentina from her seat. Fingers hooked in her hair, he arched her body into his and addressed with a calmness that belied the tumult of emotion beneath the surface.

“You’re right,” he shrugged when she responded to his final comment, and pinched her nipple a second time. Only the harshness of the twist and Cole’s gritted teeth provided an inkling of the devastating blow her “wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire” retort inflicted on his ego. At least he knew where he stood. “Let’s say I couldn’t respect you any less, so now we have that in common.”

Unwittingly, Whittaker had left one of her limbs free, and his eyes widened when she slipped her hand under his shirt and her fingers glided over his skin. Cole shivered in pleasure at the surprising gentleness of Valentina’s touch, which halted his words in their tracks and allowed her to launch an attack.

“Why don’t you beg me? I think you’d enjoy being fucked for a change.”

Cole’s muscles tensed.

“You know I like you better on the bottom. Beg me to fuck you like I own you, Cole.”

Fist clenching by his side, he slammed her against the table edge with his hips and hissed in her face. “Nice try, but my name isn’t Viktor. Is that what he liked, Valentina, for you to fuck him? I bet you loved being Curic’s obedient whore and spreading your legs on command."

Engrossed in searching for a vulnerability he could use to pierce Valentina’s armour, Cole was unprepared for her next move. When she raked her sharp nails down his back and clawed at his skin, his face paled and he bit down on a howl of pain. Flesh tore and rivulets of blood seeped from the wounds she’d inflicted. “You fucking bitch.” Instinctively, Cole slapped Valentina across the face, then gripped her by the hip and shoulder, “I’ll show you who’s boss.”

As effortlessly as he would a rag doll, Cole hoisted her off her feet and tossed Valentina across the room. She hit the bed forcefully enough to break a spring, and he followed her. Arriving when she bounced off the mattress, Cole planted a palm on her scalp, halting her momentum and pinned her cheek to the blankets. While he held her in place with one arm, from behind Valentina came the unmistakable sound of Whittaker unbuckling his trousers.

“If you won’t beg me to screw you, then beg me to stop.” Cole jerked Valentina’s head up and forced her to look at his reflection in the mirrored closet door; standing at the edge of the bed with his jeans and boxers around his ankles and unrestrained cock jutting out at full mast. “What’s it to be.” Voice husky, he trembled with anger and anticipation as he thrust his free hand between her legs and yanked Valentina’s underwear aside, “Do I stop, or do I fuck you like I own you?”
 
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