Page 14 of Out of Control

“Open up,” Spencer ordered, placing two bitter-tasting pills on his tongue and holding out the water bottle.

He took it, clasped it in both hands, and awkwardly drank it all.

Spencer prudently retreated across the room, pulled out a map, and commenced studying it. Drago closed his eyes and waited for the painkillers to kick in. It took about ten minutes, but finally the worst of the jackhammers in his head chilled the fuck out.

“Okay. I’m vaguely human again,” he announced. “What’s the sitch?”

“The situation is that we need to bug out of here before whatever’s about to go down happens. I’m trying to figure out where I want to take you.”

“I’d head for Israel if you think you’re gonna need a lot of help to handle me. Uncle Sam can call in a favor from the Mossad. If you’re feeling good about your prospects for keeping me in custody and think I might cooperate, Amman has a big airport you can evac me out of. Or, if you’re feeling really froggy, you could give Beirut a try. But I probably have a crap-ton of shady contacts in a city like that and can call on them to jump your ass and bust me loose.”

Spencer looked up from the map and studied him closely. Surprised he wasn’t being a total prick, perhaps? Drago sighed. His default setting wasn’t usually extreme jackass. But Spencer’s general perfection and insanely good goodness brought out the worst in him. Seriously. How was it possible to be in Captain Perfect’s presence and not feel inadequate?

“Why would you help me?” Spencer asked suspiciously.

“Who says I am? Maybe I’m just messing with your head, or maybe I actually have more shady contacts in Israel and I’m trying to trick you into taking me there.”

“Have I ever told you the convoluted thinking of you spy types makes me a little crazy?”

He snorted. “It makes us crazy too. Or at least paranoid.”

Spencer stood up all at once and folded the map. He’d made a decision. But what?

The first order of business was to get unhooked from this post. Then he could work on an exit strategy to get away from Spencer and back to the more pressing business at hand: finding and killing the terrorist who’d gotten away from him twice now.

Drago said, “If you’ll pass me my cell phone, I’ll call a contact back at Langley and get a quick sitrep on what’s cooking out here.”

Spencer shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter what’s cooking. We need to get out, and there are only two decent roads out of this shithole. We can go east toward Iraq or west toward Amman and farther west to Israel. The only question now is if we’ll make it out before the feces meet the fan.”

When Spencer didn’t move immediately, he prodded, “What are you waiting for? Minutes could matter if one of the more violent militias is inbound.”

“I’m deciding whether or not to drug you again.”

“You meantryingto drug me.”

Spencer’s crystal blue eyes narrowed. “You wanna play it that way? Handcuffed to a post? I’m down for a fight. Knowing you, you’re probably way overdue for a good dose of whoop-ass.”

Thing was, Spencer wasn’t wrong. And to be honest, he looked significantly stronger than he’d been ten years ago too. Probably had improved his hand-to-hand fighting skills in that time. Which washawtas hell. A thrill skittered down his spine at the idea of a lover who could actually physically dominate him.

Drago sighed and stood down. “I’ll pass on the fight for now. I’d also rather avoid the drugs if I have any say in the matter. If shit gets real out there, we’d both be better off if I’m awake and ambulatory. Not to mention I can, in fact, handle myself when it all goes to hell around me.”

Spencer smiled reluctantly, but the humor faded quickly. “I’m under orders to bring you in, Dray. I’m not letting you get away from me, and to that end, I will take whatever measures are necessary to keep you in my custody.”

They would see about that.

But even Drago knew that now was not the moment to attempt an escape. “Here’s the deal, boo. I’m no dummy. Besides whatever shitstorm is headed this way, this town has no resources to aid my escape, and I don’t relish fleeing into the desert on foot to get away from you. I’m gonna wait until we’re in a significantly bigger city to make a run for it.”

“Are you lying to me?” Spencer studied him hard, obviously looking for a tell.

“When have I ever lied to you? I’m the first to admit I can be a giant asshole and even that I can lie my head off when a job calls for it. But I’m not a liar in my personal life. My real life. At least, not to you.”

Spencer stared a moment more, and then his gaze fell away. “I have no evidence to contradict your statement. So for now, I’m going to take you at your word.”

“Fuck you too,” he responded without any heat.

“You wish,” Spencer muttered as he pulled a key out of his pocket.

Drago’s gaze snapped up, and they stared at each other in abrupt awareness. Too many emotions to catalogue all at once flashed through Spencer’s baby blues. Shock. Lust. Chagrin. Betrayal. Old, stale anger. More lust.

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