by Ciana Stone
Josie opened her mouth, closed it then stuttered. "You can't—you want—are you serious?"
"I am. Are you?"
Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. A voice inside warned over and again, railing against the unfamiliar desire that had a sudden control on her. "Five minutes."
She rose, turned and left the room. One part of her mind told her to run upstairs and lock her door. The other part overruled reason and propelled her down the hall and into his room, not certain at all what she was letting herself in for yet unable to squelch the fire inside.
Chapter Nine
One day. That's how long it took her to fall for him completely. Josie looked at her reflection in the mirror on Monday morning, feeling like someone who'd stepped through the looking glass into a whole new world.
Yesterday had changed everything. Even now she flushed as she thought of what happened. She'd never dreamed she would be turned on by getting spanked. That was quite an awakening. Dillon enjoyed making her squirm, bite back a protest and even call uncle when she reached her limit. And he enjoyed showing her pleasure that far surpassed that small measure of pain.
And that portion of pain was all he cared to inflict. Aside from that, he seemed genuinely interested in giving pleasure and boy was he talented in that respect. They'd made love, cooked and ate, cuddled on the couch, made love, gone for an afternoon bike ride, made love in the shower and started again with the evening meal.
Josie woke in Dillon's arms this morning and that's when it hit her. She'd fallen for him. Completely. It was terrifying and spawned a battle inside her. Emotions raged against her sense of duty and responsibility. What was she going to do?
You're going to be even more vigilant in your job, that's what you're going to do because now he's more than just a client. He's someone you care about.
She wasn't ready to say, even to herself, that she loved him. Love was frightening because it stripped away all your defenses and made you way too vulnerable. She couldn't be vulnerable or weak. That wasn't how she'd keep him safe.
And she damn well intended to do that. Nothing was going to happen to Dillon on her watch. Not as long as she was breathing.
"Hey! You about ready?" Dillon called from the hallway. "I thought we could ride in together."
"Sounds good," she turned from the mirror and opened the door. "But I need to grab a coffee to go."
That's when she noticed he held a travel coffee cup in each hand. "My hero," she said as he offered her one. "Okay, let's do it."
"I wish, but right now we have jobs."
Josie smiled at his tease and secretly thrilled at the gentle but sensual kiss he gave her. "You're pretty incredible Josie Harper."
That shocked her. Surely the words were intended as a flirt. Why, then, was his tone so genuine and the look on his face so honest? Did he really mean what he said?
She started down the hall for the kitchen, knowing he'd leave through the back door. "So are you, Dillon Walker and the answer is better than I imagined."
"Am I that obvious?"
"No, but I thought the question might come up so—"
"So just how good did you imagine?"
Josie tossed a smile over her shoulder as she opened the door and walked out. "Very."
"Just very?"
With a laugh she continued to his SUV and got into the passenger seat. "Well?" he asked when he'd started the vehicle.
"Very very."
"Not amazing or exceptional or astonishing or mind-blowing or—"
"Wow, egotistic much there, Coach?"
"Not a bit. Just competitive."
"Ooh, I see, it's a competition."
"Isn't everything?" The look he gave her said that despite the kidding, he was serious. Competitiveness was in his makeup.
"Well, I suppose."
"Aww come on, Josie. Throw a guy a bone."
Josie laughed and took a drink of her coffee. For the next few minutes they talked football, one of their mutual favorite topics. He was looking forward to the fall season and couldn't wait for practice to begin.
Just as they made the turn onto a shortcut, a county road that cut about four miles off the drive, she noticed the vehicle behind them. Damn, it was one she'd seen just as they left his neighborhood. She'd allowed herself to be distracted and now they had a good three miles of wide-open space with no turn offs during those miles.
Josie put her cup into the door holder and reached for her bag that she'd tossed into the floor. "Whoa, hold on." Dillon exclaimed when she pulled her handgun from the bag.
"Just drive normally and don't do a lot of looking into your mirrors. We're just on our way to work, okay?"
"What's going on?"
"Not sure, and maybe nothing but I saw that car when we left your community and it may be tailing us."
"Shouldn't you call someone?"
"Not until I know it's an actual threat. Like I said, just drive like normal."
"Uh, they're speeding up."
"Yeah, I can see that." She watched the side mirror as the vehicle tailing them got closer.
"Don't react, okay? Just drive." She instructed as their tail roared up beside them.
The passenger window of the other vehicle was rolled down as the car paralleled them. Two men wearing ski-masks were inside. The one in the passenger seat lifted his hand and made the motion of a gun hand, pulling the trigger.
Josie lifted her weapon and the pursuing car immediately dropped back. She watched as it slowed, executed a precision turn and drove back the way it'd come. It was too far away for her to see the tag number.
"What the hell?" Dillon slowed, coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the road and then looked in all the mirrors.
Josie knew he was freaked out and didn't blame him. The enemy had made their point quite clearly. They could get to Dillon at any time. She got that. But more importantly, she now realized that whoever these people were, their job was to intimidate. If they'd wanted to harm or kill Dillon, they'd just passed up the perfect opportunity.
Which meant they would not be snipers, or assassins who struck under the cover of darkness or on a long lonely road. That wouldn't cause the kind of terror they needed to inspire. Killing one of the Senator's family would not bring about their desired results.
They had to terrorize the Senator into obedience.
And that put Dillon into a situation far more sinister than any of them had imagined. She stepped out of the vehicle, stuck a blue tooth earpiece into one ear, pulled out her phone and placed a call. "We have a situation," she said the moment the call was answered, and proceeded to recite the events that had transpired.
After she finished speaking, she walked back to the door of the SUV. "Yes, I agree. Yes, I'll be in touch."
She slid the phone into the side pocket of her pants and motioned for Dillon to get out. She knew his phone was in the cupholder in the console, which meant even if he was bugged, they couldn't be heard standing outside. "Okay," she said when he met her at the rear of the vehicle. "The plan for today just changed and I know you're not going to like it, but you need to cooperate with me on this."
"Who did you call?"
"My superior. I imagine he's filling your uncle and father in as we speak. Those men in that vehicle could easily have killed you. You do realize that?"
"I thought that guy was going to shoot me, if you want to know the truth. Why the hell would he do that? That pretend thing with his hand?"
"To let us know they can get to you."
"Then why didn't he? Shoot me, I mean?"
"Because that's too easy and it won't make your uncle back down. If anything, it would fuel him. He'd stop at nothing to bring your killers to justice and to uncover the power behind the assassination."
"Then what was their motive?"
"Again, to let us all know they can get you whenever they want. Dillon, I need you to turn around and go back to town. Once we get there, we're going to pack a bag, get in my car and leave Cotton Cr
eek."
"Leave? I can't leave. I have—"
"We have to leave."
"No, we don't have to."
"We do if you want to live."
He stared at her in what appeared to be disbelief for a few seconds. "Are you serious?"
"I am."
He shook his head, turned to look at the road behind them and then ahead and finally back at her. "This is crazy. You know that, right?"
"No, I don't. I know that you're in danger and I know we need to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere no one knows where you are. Then we can figure out how to stop whoever it is that's pulling the strings."
"I don't want to leave." She heard the truth in those words and understood. No one wanted to believe there was someone in the world who wanted to cause them harm. Even more chilling was the idea that someone would have you harmed or killed for no reason other than to try and exert control over another person.
"I know, and I understand, but I need you to do this, Dillon. If not for you, then for me."
"For you?"
"I need you to live."
"Because it's your job to make sure that I do?"
"You know it's not that simple. I want you to live because I care. I want you in my life."
His gaze connected with hers for a moment and then he nodded. "Get in."
Once they were seated, he turned the SUV around and headed back the way they'd come.
Chapter Ten
Josie finished packing, zipped the luggage and hefted it off the bed. She hadn't packed that much in the way of clothing. Two pairs of jeans, t-shirts, and underwear. Most of the space in her carry-on bag was taken up by the crucial items. Handguns, extra clips, ammunition, charging cords for phones and tablets and portable charging banks.
Along with a couple of thousand dollars in cash. The last thing they could do was use debit or credit cards. It was way too easy to be tracked that way.
Thoughts of tracking had her hurrying from the room. She needed to make sure Dillon left his cell phone at home. Hers was secure, thanks to the Senator and friends still in the Secret Service. His was not. They couldn't take a chance on his. He could have been hacked and having the phone with him would be equivalent to a homing beacon.
She hurried to Dillon's room. His suitcase was on the bed, still open and half filled. He sat on the foot of the bed, talking on the phone. Damn, she should have warned him about phone calls.
"Yeah, thanks, buddy." He looked at her as he spoke. "You bet. I'll be talking to you soon."
"Who was that?"
He looked up at her. "Assistant coach. We were going over what I wanted him to do this week. I told him I'd be in touch later in the week to let him know if I'd be there next Monday."
She felt her heart sink. "Can I hold your phone?"
"Sure." He handed it to her.
Josie turned, went into the laundry room where she'd noticed a small tool kit stored in the closet. She opened the toolkit, took out the hammer and then crouched down, put the phone on the floor and beat it to pieces with the hammer.
"What the fuck?" Dillon ran in. "Why the hell'd you do that?"
She jumped up, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and jerked him close to whisper as softly as she could into his ear. "Because your phone – like this house-- might have been hacked or bugged and we're trying to get you away from all threats, which means no one can know where you are. Nor should anyone have advance knowledge that you're leaving."
"Shit. I fucked up, didn't I?" His whisper conveyed a measure of remorse she found oddly comforting.
"I hope not. Come on, get the rest of your stuff packed and let's hit the road."
"Where are we going?"
"Away from here."
He pulled back, turned on a heel and headed for his room. She followed, and within minutes he was closing his luggage. Just as he started to zip it, she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. Not one but three.
Josie ran to the front of the house and pulled back the curtain from the window overlooking the street. Oh damn. Fear spiked hard and hot inside her. The watcher across the street, the neighbor Dillon knew as Carl, lay just outside his garage. She knew the dark pool beneath him was not oil.
"Dillon! We have to go now."
He ran out into the hall, hauling his suitcase. "What's wrong?"
"We have to go." She raced to grab the handle of her luggage. "Now, Dillon. Now."
"Okay, okay." He headed for the kitchen, and she followed. Just as he reached for the handle of the back door, it burst in.
Josie went for her gun a split second too late. Something black came down over her head and hands grabbed her arms. She fought and kicked until something covered her mouth through the fabric covering her head.
She continued to fight, hearing Dillon swearing and the sounds of his struggle, but consciousness was fading quickly. Hoping that whoever the invaders were, they would take her as well as Dillon, she succumbed to the enveloping darkness.
*****
Dillon woke, disoriented and nauseous. When he couldn't see, he tried to reach up and uncover his eyes, only to discover that he couldn't move his arms. His legs were immobilized as well. That's when panic set in. "Hey!" He yelled. "Hey!"
"Don't." Josie's voice came from his right.
"Are you okay?"
"I am, and we need to stay calm, okay?"
Calm was as far from what he felt as it could get, but he didn't want her to know that his heart was racing like he'd just run ten minutes of wind sprints and he felt like he was going to puke. "Okay. Where are we and what happened?"
"My guess, we're in a vehicle being transported, and we were jumped before we left your house. When I went to the front to look out, I saw Carl lying on his driveway. I'm pretty sure he was shot."
"Why would someone shoot Carl?"
"Because he was on your protection detail."
"He was shot because of me?" That made Dillon feel even worse.
"No, he was shot because he was doing his job. Don't get caught up in that, in anything, you hear me? We have to keep our wits about us if we're going to survive this. Remember that, QB. Our lives may well depend on it."
"Do you really think they would kill us?"
Her lack of response was frightening, and he was glad she couldn't see him because he'd be ashamed for her to know he was afraid.
"We need to talk about this while we can," her voice was barely above a whisper. "And I'm going to be completely honest with you. As hard as it may be, I need you to remain calm, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
"All right. Yes, I think they may kill us, but if so, this is the way it'll go down. I imagine the first thing they'll do is tie you to a chair, point a light at your face and instruct you to read what they give you. It will be a message to your uncle and will probably say something along the lines that if he doesn't stand down, retract or give up on whatever he's doing, you're going to suffer and die.
"You'll be instructed to tell him he has a set amount of time in which to go on national media and make a statement, and if he doesn't, they'll get violent. Chances are, they'll kill me. Maybe it will be fast and maybe not, but they'll use me as a warm up to see if he will bend. If he doesn't, then they'll start on you. At first, it will be painful but not life-threatening.
"You'll be videoed again, and it will be clear that you've been worked over. If your uncle still doesn't surrender, they'll do worse, and it will be bad. Very bad and they won't stop until he gives in or you're dead."
Dillon had never imagined the kind of fear and horror he now felt. He wanted to kick and scream, something, anything to escape the nightmare Josie described. "I don't know if I can take it." He hated to admit it but needed to say it.
"I know. I feel the same, and I swear to you, I'll do anything and everything I can to keep you alive and whole. If they brought our luggage, then they have my phone, and it's equipped with a hidden tracking device that can't be detected. When we're discovered missing, which
shouldn't be long, we'll be located, and a team will be sent. If they disposed of my phone, then our only hope is the locator in my luggage. Its signal is weaker, but with luck can transmit a location."
"And if not?"
"Then we're on our own and we have to be ready to fight if given a chance. And Dillon?"
"Yeah?"
"If I tell you to run, do it. As fast and far as you can without looking back. You hear me?"
"I do, but—"
"But nothing. Promise me."
"I can't—
"Please, I need—"
She suddenly stopped, and that's when he realized that the vehicle was slowing. Wherever they were being taken, they may have arrived. Dillon sucked in air, feeling suddenly short of breath.
"Don't panic," Josie's whisper did little to bolster his courage. He didn't want to die and didn't have a clue how to go about escaping whatever his captors had planned.
Chapter Eleven
The moment Lula opened the door she knew something was very wrong. Naomie's face told her that. Added weight came from the fact that Russell Walker and his son Riggs were with her, as was Mathias Gray Horse.
"Lincoln!" She yelled then held open the door. "Come in."
"Sorry," Naomie apologized.
"This looks like trouble," Lincoln commented when he entered the room.
"Afraid so," Mathias said.
"Everyone please, sit," Lula encouraged.
Once everyone was seated, Russell spoke up. "As Lula can attest, drawing on technology developed for intelligence agencies, my brother and I equip all security personnel with tracking devices. Their phones, luggage and personal identifications such as driver’s licenses have implanted micro-chips. Luggage and id sensors require a certain set of parameters to be met for activation.
"Today, the tracking device in Josie Harper's luggage was activated. We've pinpointed its location."
"So, you're saying that someone has Josie?" Lula asked.
"They have her and my son. A member of his protection detail, posing as a neighbor across the street was shot. He's in surgery but was able to give the make and model of two vehicles leaving Dillon's house."
"And?" Lincoln asked as he shared a look with Mathias.