Wallbanger by Sable Jordan Page B

corset and chains into
Kizzie’s hands, he spun her by the shoulders, sending her on her
way. “Go get dressed.”
    She yelped when he smacked her ass, then
turned around and saluted. “Sir, yes, Sir!” She giggled and strode
past Phil. “Hey, handsome.”
    They watched her depart before the big man
held up his hands. “Please, don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.” He strolled
into the room, laughing as he dropped into the desk chair. A black
box went on the table and he leaned back, twisted the cap off a
bottle of water. “You two seem to be getting along. She gonna be an
issue, X?”
    Xander went for the boxers on his bed,
stepped into them, and followed with the navy suit pants. “No,
we’re good. That was just a little sub training gone wrong.” At the
dubious look in Marchande’s eyes he added, “I’m straight, Phil. Why
do you smell like lemon?” Phil waved his hand dismissively and
Xander shrugged, asked, “How’d it go?”
    Phil relayed the info from his earlier recon.
“Ten outside cameras, motion-sensors along the walls. Zero cameras
inside—” he frowned, “What self-respecting miscreant doesn’t have
interior cameras?”
    “I don’t.”
    “’Cause you, Xander, are not
self-respecting.”
    “You missed your calling,” he grumbled.
“Sacha’s arrogant and disillusioned by thinking everything in his
little castle is under his control. Only way in or out is through
the front door, so why would he need cameras? His ego might work in
our favor. What about guards?”
    “Day guards clocked out a couple hours ago;
count on maybe four to six being at the party tonight. Plant a few
eyes and ears and we’ll get what we need.”
    Xander nodded, slipping into the cream dress
shirt, pleased with Kizzie’s choice.
    “So, X,” Marchande said, pausing to take a
swig of water, “this last minute plan B. For her or for
Harvey?”
    He looped the buttons of his shirt through
the holes, not bothering to look up. “Harvey. Like I said, I
haven’t gotten my priorities crossed, Phil. Just ‘cause I’m using
her doesn’t mean I trust her. Ask me again and I break your jaw.
Crystal?”
    “Try that and I’ll dot your other eye,” Phil
said with a smirk, motioning toward the scar across Xander’s
eyebrow. “I know you, X, and I respect the choices you make about
this life inside a life you’re leading. But don’t let the one
outshine the other.”
    Phil tossed his buddy a watch. “Thought you
might also like to know, Sacha had a visitor today.”
    “I’m listening.” He slid his hand through the
bracelet and secured the clasp.
    “How does Akio Takata strike you?”
    Xander exhaled. “As another fuckin’
problem.”

7
    Darkness descended on Helsinki, the nightlife
thriving in spite of the light snowfall. In the back seat, Kizzie
watched from behind the dark tint of the Range Rover as people
packed the bars and discos, enjoying the end of a long day. Her
days were always long, and they never ended. She hadn’t had a break
from the job in a couple years, and, when she finally got
one—demotion or not—she ran off to chase trouble that had nothing
to do with her. She wondered what kind of defect she had in her
brain that made her dedicate her life to this insanity.
    The car turned off one main street and onto
another, and every scene appeared the same: people flocking to
evening entertainment. Here she was, dressed in a cupless corset,
hooker heels, and a heavy, fur-lined velvet cloak, on her way to a
party that was all part of a job.
    It’d be funny if it weren’t so tragic.
    Maybe it was time she got out of the
clandestine operations business; cut her losses after this gig. She
had a nice run, but this rush from one crazy extreme to the next
just wasn’t healthy. She needed to find a man, settle down, have a
couple rug-rats, and learn to love domestic life like sane people. Screw 3-19 and Connolly. If he wanted it so bad, let him get
his own ass spanked for it.
    It was a pointless