Wanted for Life

by Allison B Hanson

  He put up a hand to stop her. “I see your mouth moving, but I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  He wasn’t an idiot. He was actually pretty smart, especially in math—old school—thus the teaching job. He’d just never had an interest in spending all his free time sitting at a desk staring at a screen. He’d always needed to be moving. Doing something. Not sitting.

  “Fine. Put the thingy-what’s-it back in my computer and log on.” He could throw the fancy lingo around, too. “Go online and pick out whatever computer you want.”

  “Okay. I need to check in with my boss. And I want to see the news footage they’ve been showing.” She looked at him and brightened. “You have a smart phone, right?”

  “Yes.” He pulled it from his back pocket and handed it over after unlocking it.

  Her thumbs flew over the screen and she looked up at him. “You’ve never launched Safari before?”

  “Again, I have no idea what you’re saying.” Was she just stringing random words together to frustrate him?

  She laughed and pointed at an icon.

  “Ah.” He shook his head. “I liked the black compass better than the blue one.”

  When she pressed her lips together, he knew he’d said something funny without meaning to. Before he had a chance to defend himself—yet again—she gasped.

  “Oh, no.” She let out a breath. “My cover’s been blown. They have my real identity.”

  The worry on her face broke something loose in his chest. Instincts he’d thought were gone kicked in, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close.

  “It’s okay, Angel. I’ll protect you,” he promised blindly.

  A year ago, she’d said the same thing to him. He knew without a doubt she’d meant those words as much as he meant them now. She’d seen him through the hardest thing he’d ever done—leaving behind everything he knew and loved. He’d still been recovering from six gunshot wounds that should have ended his life.

  Correction: they had ended his life.

  Chapter Seven

  Angel wasn’t sure how it had leaked, but there was her photo on the news section of the browser. The name Angel Larson, not Aubrey Daniels, was printed under it. The write-up said she was a special agent gone rogue, which meant they probably didn’t know she actually worked for the U.S. Marshals Service. It also listed her as armed and extremely dangerous.

  True enough—though she was only dangerous to two people: the real killer, and the person who had given her up. Were they one and the same?

  She needed to get a message to Thorne. He would be worried.

  Looking over Colton’s prehistoric computer setup, her gaze landed on a printer/copier/fax machine. Only somewhat newer than his tower.

  “I have an idea,” she said more to herself, knowing discussing her plan would just frustrate him again. Colton was a smart guy with a quick wit. His lack of computer savvy was due to disinterest rather than an inability to comprehend.

  That was fine. He had plenty of other skills she appreciated. Although a good number of those skills were off-limits.

  She needed to dig up a viable lead so she could be on her way. She wanted to get her life back and let Colton get back to his.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until he mentioned it. Her stomach growled in answer before her mouth had the chance. Pudge lifted his head, which had been resting on her foot.

  “Yes, very,” she admitted.

  “I’ll go make dinner while you wreck my system. Please, just save my spreadsheet. If I lose those grades there’ll be a hundred and twenty students beating down the door, desperate to graduate in a few days.”

  “I won’t lose anything,” she promised as she popped his memory card back in place and snapped on the cover.

  For the next few minutes she used his word processing program and added some palm trees from his design software to create a vacation flyer. She included a few phone numbers, which were actually an encrypted code only Thorne would understand.

  After removing the return fax number from the program, she let out a breath and sent the fax to Thorne’s office. He always complained that the only thing he ever got on his fax machine was vacation offers. It just pissed him off because he was too busy to take a vacation. When he did take a vacation, it wasn’t to a tropical island. It was to spend time with his daughter, who was in witness protection herself—a daughter he’d only met several months ago.

  Having a fax machine at a federal agency might sound antiquated, but sending a fax over an analog phone line was actually still one of the safest ways to move data. No one could hack into a phone line and read the data.

  As she sent out her fax, Colton showed up at the door with plate and a sheepish look.

  “That smells delicious. What is it?”

  “Eggplant parmesan.” He handed it over, looking as if he wanted to say something more.

  “Left over from your date this evening?” she asked with a lopsided smile.

  Yes, she was fishing to see if he’d had a date. It was Friday night. Though, if he’d been out on a date it hadn’t lasted very long. Who came home from a date at nine thirty unless it wasn’t going well?

  “Retirement party for one of my colleagues.”

  She sensed something more behind those words, but the food was too good to waste time talking.

  “And no. It’s not leftovers. I made it from scratch.”

  “You did?” she mumbled with her mouth full. “It’s really good.” Still eating, she followed him back out to the kitchen. She was going to want more.

  “I’ve taken up cooking, since I don’t have much else to do.” He looked a bit embarrassed by that.

  It was obvious he’d made the best of his situation. Last year, he’d had the usual concerns about starting over and leaving his life and family behind. But he seemed to be doing better in his new world than she’d expected.

  There was a photo hanging on the refrigerator—Colton surrounded by three teenagers wearing matching T-shirts for a math league competition.

  The smile on his face told her they’d won, even if she’d missed the trophy.

  Humming to himself, he tossed a towel over his shoulder and carried the rest of the food to the table. She sat down next to him and reached for a roll, still warm from the oven. Heaven.

  She must have made a yummy noise because when she opened her eyes, his were focused on her face. She remembered the way his hazel eyes reminded her of a stormy sea when he was aroused.

  She swallowed and concentrated on her plate. Maybe her yummy-food noise was too similar to her good-sex sounds. She’d have to watch that from now on.

  She couldn’t afford to get involved with Colton. Not like that. It had hurt too much the first time she’d had to leave. If she didn’t stay focused, she might not survive when she had to leave this time.

  And she would definitely need to leave. She couldn’t stay here forever, hoping someone else stumbled across the real killer. She needed to figure out who had set her up, and make them pay for what they did to Heath.

  Which would mean leaving Colton.

  Again.

  She glanced over at him. He seemed content. Happy, even. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, so she took a moment to study him closer—his strong jaw and light brown hair with hints of gold mixed throughout. He’d been blond when he was younger. She’d seen a photo in his file.

  She let out a sigh of regret.

  She’d been so selfish when she stormed into his home and disrupted his life.

  She swallowed down a bite of food and frowned. “I’m sorry I barged in here and really messed up your evening.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said before jumping up to go into the kitchen again.

  As much as she might like it, things could not go back to the way they’d been when she was protecting him. They couldn’t afford to get personally involved. It had been against the rules before, and any k
ind of relationship would be highly unwise now.

  At any moment, she might need to leave again.

  As she finished the best meal she’d eaten in months, she realized it had been a huge mistake to come here. Seeing him again was dredging up memories and emotions best left buried.

  But she hadn’t had any other choice.

  Or maybe she hadn’t tried hard enough to come up with other choices…

  She told herself she didn’t have anywhere else to go, and needed somewhere safe to stay while she figured out her next move.

  But maybe that wasn’t the real reason.

  If she were a stronger person, she’d just admit to herself that she’d wanted to see him again.

  If she were a better person, she would have kept her distance to begin with, instead of getting him involved and putting him in danger.

  As he walked back into the dining room, their eyes met again…and her heart sank.

  She might be a strong person, but she’d never pretended to be a good one.

  Chapter Eight

  Angel was quiet the rest of the evening. Colton offered her his bed, but she declined, so he made up the sofa with a blanket and pillow, knowing he wouldn’t win that argument.

  “How are you for weapons?” he asked her.

  She pulled out two semi-automatics—her standard issue Glock 40 and a smaller Beretta PX4—and set them on the coffee table. Then she extracted three extra clips from her front pockets.

  “So, pretty good then,” he joked.

  She smiled, but it wasn’t her normal smile. Not the smile that haunted him every night when he closed his eyes. Was she scared?

  He couldn’t blame her if she were. She was a wanted fugitive. But he wanted to put her mind at ease.

  “I have a bolt hole in my closet. The floor pulls up and it leads to the crawlspace under the house.”

  He knew normal people didn’t need to think about such things. But he’d created an escape plan before he’d even unpacked his clothes. He figured he was safe for now. Viktor Kulakov thought he was dead. And even if he suspected Colton was still alive, he would have to dig through layers of cover before he would find Colton’s real name or his family.

  The DEA had made sure his family would be safe. There were too many of them to move into the WITSEC program. Though, some days he selfishly wished they’d been forced to come with him. He hated the idea that his family thought he was dead. They’d lost his dad when they were younger, and now Colton. He wished there was a way to tell them he was alive and well.

  Even if he hadn’t felt alive in months and didn’t consider the unrelenting loneliness as being all that well.

  Still, he wasn’t dead.

  His exit plan meant he had a chance to stay alive if anyone ever did show up wanting to do a better job at killing him than the last time.

  “The hatch from under the house leads to the backyard,” he said. “When you get to the yard, stick to the fence on the left. Follow it the whole way to the end. There is a small garage across the alley. I own it. There’s a vehicle inside. Keys are in the pocket behind the seat. It’s stocked. Food, water, ammo. Anything you would need to get away.”

  She digested all that for a moment, then said, “Thank you, Colton.”

  He let out a breath. “Thanks for saying my name. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it spoken aloud, it almost doesn’t sound like it belongs to me anymore.”

  Her brows creased. “What is your new name? I don’t remember. I just memorized your address.”

  He’d always thought she’d chosen it on purpose as some kind of silly joke. But maybe not.

  “Duncan Willis,” he told her, watching her face intently to see if there was a hint of recognition. Nothing.

  She scrunched up her nose. “Duncan?”

  “It took two whole days for some high school punk to come up with the nickname Dunking Willies.”

  The laughter spurted out of her, and she covered her mouth with her hand in an effort to keep it in.

  “They sometimes add a Scottish accent. Dunkin’ Weelies.” He used his best brogue to send her into another round of hysterics.

  “I’m s-sorry. That’s not f-funny,” she stammered.

  He might have believed her if she wasn’t still laughing. “I don’t know what this says about your sense of humor.”

  She snorted. “Are you kidding? Normally I’m in the fifth-grade boy range. I feel like I’ve matured to high school level.”

  “You’re the epitome of maturity,” he drawled.

  “Whoa. Hold on a second. Don’t go using big words on me.” She was still laughing. “I see your mouth moving, but I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Get some sleep,” he ordered to end the mocking.

  She nodded, but he knew she wouldn’t. Angel didn’t sleep. She rested in short spurts, but never slept deeply, or for very long. He’d always wondered if she’d conditioned herself that way for the job, or if it was caused by something else.

  He paused by the edge of the living room. Pudge had already claimed a spot next to the sofa. Apparently, he was staying with her. That suited Colton just fine. Angel needed the heightened senses Pudge offered.

  “In case you’re not here when I wake up, I wish you the best.” He took a breath. “It was nice to see you again.”

  He shouldn’t have said that last part, but he couldn’t help it. It had been nice to see her. It had also been nice to hold her in his arms for that short moment. At the table earlier, he’d wanted to lean over and kiss her so badly he’d actually almost done it.

  And when she’d made that moan of satisfaction over the food, his body had reacted to the sound just as it had in the past when he’d elicited a similar response from her.

  But not from his cooking.

  They’d been great together. The sex had been hot and fun. Their attraction had always seemed to hit them while doing the most mundane things. Once when she’d been cleaning her gun, they’d ended up rolling around on the floor. Another time, he’d been moving laundry from the washer to the dryer and she’d practically attacked him.

  It had been perfect…except at the end of each amazing time with her, there had always been regret in her eyes. As soon as they dressed, she would repeat her warning about how they shouldn’t get close. It wouldn’t end well. Blah, blah, blah.

  He should have believed her.

  With a sigh, he headed for his room. He’d almost escaped into the hall when he heard her voice.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she called.

  His heart seized, and he had to fight to keep from going back to her and begging her not to leave.

  She’d said those same words the night she left him.

  Chapter Nine

  Angel stretched out on the sofa and closed her eyes. She felt safe in Colton’s home. The giant dog sneaking up onto the sofa next to her helped with that.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” she whispered, recalling Colton didn’t approve of dogs on the furniture. “Just make sure you’re off before he gets up.”

  Pudge adjusted his large body, taking up more than his half of the couch.

  Which was fine. She wouldn’t be sleeping, anyway. She had too many things to think about. Though…her priorities were a bit out of sorts at the moment.

  Instead of focusing on who could have killed Heath, set her up for the murder, and stolen his prototype, she was distracted by how easy it was to be with Colton. She’d assumed it would be awkward between them, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

  Of course, they hadn’t talked about what happened before. Not just the sex. But the late nights of poker and talking. It had been so easy to tell him how scared she’d felt on her first assignment for Phoenix. He’d told her about his first day at DEA, and how he’d been just as scared. She didn’t tell him all the gory details of her past, but she’d felt she could have, if ever she decided she wanted to.

  Then one night as they were b
uilding giant sundaes at one in the morning, a whipped cream battle transformed into a spark, lighting up the attraction they’d both been trying to ignore.

  Abandoning all control, they’d reached for each other, melting into a kiss that had touched her soul. Sticky fingers roamed under clothes, and melted ice cream smeared across the counter when he lifted her up to take her right then and there. Neither cared that they’d knocked over the fudge topping and rainbow sprinkles.

  The shower afterward had been a colorful affair.

  She smiled at the memories as she lay there in the darkness of his living room. She hadn’t eaten ice cream since, knowing it wouldn’t satisfy her fully. Knowing it would make her think of him, and she already did that enough without the reminders.

  Back then, they’d been playing house. Both of them knew it was short term, but neither had allowed it to ruin their time together. Which made it much more difficult when she’d walked away. She’d thought it was just a casual affair, but she’d been wrong.

  He hadn’t brought up any of that tonight. Nor had he accused her of being the coward she knew she was.

  Just as well. If he wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened, she would go along with that plan. She wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter.

  As soon as she had a lead, she would leave, and he could go back to his normal life.

  Without her.

  Chapter Ten

  Colton tossed for what felt like the twentieth time in fourteen minutes. He couldn’t fall asleep. And who could blame him?

  His sleeplessness wasn’t because there was a wanted fugitive sleeping under his roof. Or because said fugitive was also sexy as hell. No, his restlessness was caused by his fear that she would sneak out in the middle of the night, and he’d be right back where he was before she showed up on his doorstep.

  Alone and bored out of his mind.

  Spending the evening at a yawn-fest retirement party hadn’t helped. It was too easy to see himself with gray hair, sitting in front of a cake that wished him a happy remainder of his already tedious life.