“Tell your slag if she wants a real man, I can take care of her,” Baz shouted, his arms out as though embracing the chaos he’d wrought.
Damon pressed on. All he could see, think of, was getting his hands wrapped around Baz’s throat. He would stop him. He would make sure Baz never got near Penelope. The very idea of him getting his hands on her served to fuel Damon’s rage.
So close. The pain in his chest sharpened, but he ignored it. He could push past it. The weakness was nothing. He could do it. He could make it. He was stronger than this.
The world narrowed to just him and Baz, his vision closing in on his enemy. A black fog played at the edge of his consciousness, but it didn’t matter. He would get the fucker. He would…
Baz winked down at him, turned and ran up the escalator, his shoes clinging to the metal, making it possible for him to run.
Damon pushed on. He just needed to get to the top. When he got to the top, he would call the tech boys and figure out how to track him. They would take over the CCTVs. If they just kept him in sights, they wouldn’t need to see his face. Hell, Chelsea was very likely watching him. She’d been playing with hacking the CCTVs when he’d left and she’d promised to track him. She was smart. She would keep him in her sights.
He could still do this.
His legs moved, working to get him up the mountain he seemed to be climbing. His arms pumped. His vision began to fade.
A lightheadedness took over.
The world went gray, and he fell back.
Pain flared through his system, his head pounding.
“Damon? Damon?” An insistent feminine voice pulled him from the fog.
He opened his eyes, and Penelope was staring down at him, a worried look on her face. “What happened?”
One minute he’d been closing in on Baz, and the next he was looking up at someone who should be at Gloucester station by now. He seemed to be at the bottom of the escalators, lying on the floor, his head in Penelope’s lap.
“You fell. You almost got to the top and then you just fell back. If someone hadn’t caught you, you would have tumbled down the entire way.” She smoothed his hair back, her palm cool against his skin.
It felt nice. And wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
Damon forced himself to sit up though his head was reeling. “You disobeyed me.”
She remained kneeling on the ground, her hand coming out to drag him back to her. “Lie back down. A medic is on his way. I couldn’t find a transport officer. They’re apparently dealing with some sort of threat.”
So Baz had covered all his bases. He’d set up a distraction to keep the police at bay. But a medic would come. A medic who would write a report that would find its way to SIS and give them one more reason to pull him out of the field. He coughed, forcing his damaged lungs to work. Every breath ached, but he had to get out of here before that medic showed up.
And he was viciously angry at her. It wasn’t fair, but she was the only one around to take the brunt of his rage.
He tried to tamp it down as he got to his feet and straightened his shirt, ignoring the stares of people around him. “Let’s go. There’s a train coming in now.”
He didn’t care where it went. He would get on it and make his way home where he intended to make it very clear to his new partner exactly who was in charge.
“Damon!” She followed after him, reaching for his hand. The train pulled to a stop. It was going the wrong way but anything would do. “You need to see someone. You fainted.”
He gripped her wrist, pulling her onto the train.
Mind the gap between the platform and the train.
The ever-present reminder not to fall between the cracks echoed through the station as the doors closed. That’s what would happen to him if Penelope had her way. He would fall through SIS’s gap. He would be an operative without a mission, useless and meaningless. He would go back to his former life. Nothingness.
That wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t let it.
The doors closed, and he herded her to the back of the train where the bench seat was open. “Sit down.”
There was fire in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I know you’re angry that I didn’t obey, but I couldn’t leave you behind. There was no way I could get on a train and leave you behind with that man. He nearly killed you before.”
“And what exactly did you think you could do? He wasn’t going to start speaking German. I didn’t need a translator.”
“I thought at least I could be with you,” she said, her eyes sliding away from him. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone. I think you should see someone, Damon.”
He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper as he took the seat beside her. One long agonizing breath and he felt more in control, at least able to speak to her without frightening the others on the train. He’d brought enough attention to himself this afternoon. Still, he had a point to make with her. “I think you should mind your own business. And if you tell anyone at SIS that I fainted…”
Her own face was a careful blank. “Yes, you’ll ruin my life. I am well aware of that. You’ve properly threatened me, Mr. Knight. If you prefer to kill yourself, who am I to care? Now, I would like very much to go home and be done with this charade.”
His heart was starting to squeeze again. “I told you. You’re coming with me.”
She stared straight ahead. “I don’t very well want to come with you anymore.”
Because he’d hurt her feelings. She was a stubborn thing. He hadn’t counted on that. Damn it all, he needed her. If she walked away, the whole operation very likely got shelved. “Ah, so you don’t get your way and the operation is finished.”
A little huff came out of her throat, and she finally turned his way. “That’s not fair.”
“None of this is fair, Penelope,” he shot back. “You know how much is riding on you and the very first time I don’t do exactly what you want, you threaten the entire job. I really didn’t expect that from you.”
She was a person who wanted to please, needed it. It was precisely what attracted him to her, but it was also a weakness he would use against her.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t work, and I know why you’re intimidating me. You don’t want me to say anything to Nigel. He doesn’t realize just how bad your lungs are.”
No one knew. He didn’t even really understand what the problem was. “He doesn’t realize it’s affecting my heart, too. Baz nicked it when he shot me. The real damage wasn’t apparent until later. I had a second surgery in the States. It should be fine, but it’s not.”
“And you won’t see a doctor because it would go on your reports. You’re mad, you know.”
“I’m trying to keep my job.” He ground the words out. No one understood, but then they didn’t have to. It was his bloody problem.
“At the cost of your life?”
“My job is my life, Penelope. It’s all I have. I will fight for it. I’ll fight you and anyone else who thinks to take it away from me.”
They sat in silence for two stops, the train moving beneath them in a familiar rhythm. He knew he should be thinking about Baz and what he was going to tell Nigel. SIS had to know about him being in London. He would have to explain how he lost the bugger in the crowd.
He should have been plotting out just how he would handle the situation, but all he could think about was how much he wanted Penelope to look at him again. Not with tears in her eyes. He wanted her to look at him the way she had at the wedding, like he meant something to her.
He’d had plenty of women who wanted him, used him for a good time in bed. Penelope was the only one who looked at him like he was worthy of something more, like he would really protect her, would take care of her in a way that didn’t involve shagging.