Red Zone (Red Zone 1)

“No, bébé, it isn’t the end.” He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. His throat was tight, the ache making it hard to get the words out. His eyes stung, and he blinked furiously. “No, bébé.”

“Please.” There was no guile in her expression, only the bare honesty of raw emotion. “Please give me this.”

It hurt to swallow. Striker looked up at the ceiling, staring at the blank gray concrete until he felt he could speak again. When he looked back down at her, he saw the most beautiful woman alive. She was so fucking brave. There was no hatred in her. No resentment. No anger.

He didn’t deserve a woman like Friday.

But if this was all he had, he’d take it.

Take it and beg for more.

“I let you down.” He could barely get the words out. It was a first. He didn’t fail. Never. And in this, the most important job of his life, he’d failed spectacularly. He’d failed her. He’d failed them.

“No.” Her hands clasped his face. Her expression earnest. “Is that what you think? You silly man. You did exactly what I hired you to do. You brought me to La Paz before the deadline.”

“I promised I’d save you.” It was a confession. All he had left was his honor, and now that was gone, too.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I knew what I was doing when I took the poison and ran. I knew the risk, and that the chances of survival were slim. There had to have been another way to stop Enforcement from tracking me through my implants, but I didn’t look for one. I did it anyway.” She stroked his face, from the eyepatch to his lips. “Do you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. I would do it all again just to have these last four days with you.”

He shook his head as his eye closed. “You can’t say that. Not after everything that’s happened. Everything you’ve been through. Not after it led to this.”

When he opened his eye again, she was smiling. Her eyes were red and glistening, her cheeks blotchy with tears, and yet she was smiling. “I spent four days with a man who makes me feel completely alive.” She took a shaky breath. “I’ve never lived. I’ve only existed. Hoping that, somehow, tomorrow would be different. I never experienced real joy, or fear, or exhilaration, or passion, or ecstasy, or genuine laughter. Not until I met you. You gave all of that to me. You gave me four days of a full life. You let me taste freedom. That’s all I ever wanted. And you gave that to me.”

She swallowed hard, steeling herself, gathering her courage when there was no need. Didn’t she know by now that he was her safe place? She didn’t need courage to do or say anything to him. He wouldn’t hurt her. Never her.

She looked up at him through those long, black lashes that were a stark contrast to her pale, pale skin. “I never knew love until I met you.”

She slayed him. Completely and utterly devastated him with her courage and honesty. With her fearless emotion. All directed at him. All for him.

With an animalistic growl that shocked him, he clasped the back of her head and slammed his mouth down onto hers. There was no resistance. She willingly gave everything he demanded. He kissed her with every word he couldn’t say. He kissed her with every emotion he didn’t know how to express. He kissed her with a desperate, furious longing for a future that was fast slipping away. He gave it all to her in his kiss.

Fight. His rattlesnake demanded. Fight. Save mine. Save Friday.

He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even think about what was coming. Couldn’t get the words out that told his other half it was too late. The words cut like knives, ripping his soul to shreds.

The diamondback showed him a string of images where he slunk out of the window and came back into the building to open the door from the other side, and Striker stiffened. His head snapped up, ripping his lips from Friday. He examined the barred window. The glass was open to let air circulate. His diamondback could get outside without any problems, but would he be able to open the door? His reply was an image of the rattler biting Striker for doubt

ing him.

Okay. We’ll try it. It wasn’t like he had any other options. But I need to set up some cover first, otherwise your escape is gonna be on camera.

He leaned in to whisper against Friday’s ear. “The diamondback wants to try sneaking out and opening the door for us.”

She started to shake her head, and he stopped her. He knew what she was going to say—that it was pointless to try to escape. And maybe, in a secret part of him that he couldn’t acknowledge, he knew it, too. But his diamondback was desperate to do something, and that Striker could understand because he felt the same way.

“Let him try to get you out of here. Let us both try to give you somewhere else…” He couldn’t say the words. He couldn’t. He could barely even think about the fact he was trying to give her somewhere better, nicer, to die. Damn it to hell. He blinked to clear his stinging eyes. The muscles in his throat were tight and raw.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, Striker.”

His fingers tightened in her hair. He couldn’t let her call him that. Not now. “Luke. My name is Luke Boudreaux.”

She sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful.”

He stared into her sky-blue eyes. The color of freedom. “It’s yours. Only the team know it. I’m giving it to you.”

He may as well have given her diamonds from the look of wonder on her face.

He cleared his throat and turned toward the mattress. “I need the bedding. Can you help me?”