Retaliation

“Look alive, Forrester!”
Dave flinched at Pain’s volume, snapping out of his unintended nap.
He shot her a sleepy glare as she dragged a chair away from the dining table with an earsplitting screech and took a seat, a wry smile on her face. Her thumb pointed over her shoulder at Elena, still choosing between the fish and the chicken.
“Mark my words, that woman’s gonna ride you to your grave.”
Dave realized he had actually fallen asleep with food in his mouth and chewed absently for a minute before he grasped her meaning. Pain looked at him with self-assured mischief, daring him to respond.
He ignored her and returned to his meal with his mind far away. He and Elena had managed to keep their relationship a secret for a whole week, until Pain and Chad walked in on them at the pool one night, and Pain ran out yelling, “My eyes! My eyes!” loud enough to wake up the whole building and half of Brooklyn.
Next thing he knew, Peter showed up at his door at eight in the morning, going on and on about a great private school in Queens where a half-breed child wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Dave thanked the man, closed the door in his face, and escaped at the first opportunity to his penthouse in Manhattan. Too bad that after a few days Elena got bored of the city and had to get back to training.
With Jane. Her new trainer. Despite Pain’s opinion that it was a total, bullshit waste of time.
To Dave’s surprise, no one ever brought up the fact that, technically, their relationship shouldn’t be allowed. He suspected that with everything Elena had been through since childhood, no one dared to deny her a little bit of happiness.
“Chad not back yet?” Marco’s quiet voice pulled Dave back into the present. He turned his head to find Marco sitting at his left.
Pain shook her head, stuffing her mouth with bacon, then tried to reply without choking, “Still at his father’s or on the road.”
Marco watched her for a minute. “You’re a barbarian, you know that?”
“No, I’m a hungry barbarian.”
His eyes darted to the door. “Jane’s here.”
Pain swallowed, her head swiveling like an owl’s as she searched for Jane’s small figure in the crowd.
“How was Washington?” Pain asked by way of greeting as Jane finally took a seat across from Marco.
“Don’t ask.” Jane waved her away with a grimace, snatching a pancake from her sister’s tray.
Pain’s eyebrows arched as her keen eyes ran over Jane’s leather jacket and jeans. It didn’t look like Jane was going to stay for supper, since she hadn’t even changed yet. She fidgeted in her chair, an absentminded frown on her face.
“That bad, huh?” Pain prodded. “Ryan?”
“In the infirmary.” Jane waved her off again, as if it would help her avoid the questions. “It was a total ambush. They knew we would be there, and they came prepared for all our tricks. Had to kill a man with my shoe and then carry the client twenty miles in a little black dress—and it’s November, mind you. Ryan got shot in the arm covering me, then nearly bled out while drawing them away.”
“Good,” Pain said, nodding in approval.
Everyone stared at her, baffled. She swallowed hard. “I mean, good that he covered you. A bullet to the arm is okay; a collapsed lung—not so much.”
Marco gave her a sly look. “Yeah, right. That’s what we all thought.”
She threw up a hand and turned back to Jane.
Dave knew she had been against the mission from the start. She and Peter had had a disturbingly long argument about it in his office, while Dave was going through some papers in Peter’s living room. But there had been no way around it. The client needed two bodyguards who would pass for a couple. Pain’s idea of a lesbian couple hadn’t impressed Peter, to her surprise, so Jane had had to go with Ryan.
“Guess what,” Pain changed the subject. “You won’t believe what I found yesterday while you were partying with…” She trailed off when Jane’s hand reached for another pancake. “Get your own damn pancakes, will you?”
Marco’s quiet chuckle drew Pain’s gaze to him, and by the time she turned back, Jane was already gone with the last pancake. “Hey!”
Jane quickly disappeared in the crowd.
“Someone just got a taste of her own medicine,” Marco mused out loud, grinning at Pain’s flustered look.
She flicked a piece of bread at him, giving the door another glance, as if Jane were still there.
Dave realized that Elena still hadn’t joined them and looked up to find her making her way to the table. She took a seat without a word, seemingly lost in thought. For a minute, Dave just watched her in quiet adoration. Her dark hair was tousled, and her elfin face always seemed to glow, the peachy tone nothing like Dave’s own olive complexion.
She poked at her chicken and looked up, eyebrows rising as she saw him watching. “What?” she mouthed, still not quite confident around Pain and Marco.
“Nothing.” Dave held back a smile. She’d told him his staring was disconcerting, but he just couldn’t help it.
He could watch her for hours, whether she was awake or sleeping, aware or oblivious, all dolled up or, even better, naked—or maybe wearing his old sweatshirt while eating supper, as it was. She was just that perfect.
Elena gave him a funny look but didn’t say anything.
“Has Peter given you any special task after today’s meeting?” Pain asked him.
Dave’s mouth opened as he processed the information. “Meeting? Peter’s back?”
“Wake up, already. He got back this morning. We had a meeting—”
“Where someone barged in,” Marco cut in with an accusing look.
“Whatever.” She waved her hand. “He ordered Rooney to form a team to keep track of all the cameras