by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan
Rafe slipped the picture in his back pocket and replaced the others.
She stood. “Let’s get it boxed up, and then we can get out of here.”
He followed her lead and reached for the lid. Getting out of here sounded pretty damn good right about now. “Works for me.”
***
That hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d thought it would be. Once Rafe had shut up and stopped making smart-mouthed comments, he’d worked fairly well and pulled his own weight. And, Lisa had to admit, going through Doug’s old papers hadn’t affected her as she’d expected.
She’d tossed all those old pictures—thank God. Not seeing his face helped. But she was still apprehensive about reading his notes in depth. It would invariably bring up memories and emotions she wouldn’t be able to hide. She hoped to do most of that away from the watchful eyes of Rafe Sullivan.
She rounded the curve in the stairs and stopped short when she heard Shane’s voice in the kitchen. Great. Just great. As much as she loved her brother, some small part of her had hoped she’d missed him this trip. He must have heard her footsteps—or read her mind—because he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen just then, dark hair mussed, darker eyes locked on hers.
“There she is.” He took the box from her fingers, dropped it on the floor and caught her in a tight embrace.
Her eyes slid closed. He smelled like wintergreen Tic Tacs and stale coffee. “God, I missed you,” he said into her ear.
She missed him, too. More than she wanted to admit. He was the only man who could very nearly bring her to tears.
When he dropped her on her feet, she got her first good look at him. His eyes were tired, worn. Blue smudges under his lashes proved he wasn’t sleeping much. And he’d lost weight since she’d seen him six months ago in San Francisco.
“You look like hell, little brother.”
Little brother was her favorite joke. At six-one, he was anything but little. Broad shoulders, a trim waist, abs of steel. He was every woman’s fantasy, even ten pounds lighter than his normal one-ninety. But that didn’t ease her worry.
He flicked her one of his lopsided grins and tapped his fist against her jaw. “Nice of you to notice.”
Footsteps echoed behind her. Shane’s gaze lifted. When his expression hardened, she knew he’d just caught sight of her thief.
Wonderful.
“What the hell?”
She placed a hand on Shane’s chest and watched as he shifted into protective-big-brother mode. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. This is Rafe—”
“Sullivan,” Shane finished on a harsh breath. “Oh yeah, I definitely remember.” His gaze narrowed, flicked to Lisa and back to Rafe again. “Mind telling me what the hell he’s doing here?”
“The cop brother,” Rafe mumbled behind her. “Yep. This night’s just getting better and better. Lisa, I’m gonna leave you to argue about me while I put all this stuff in the car.” He moved past them with two boxes in his hands.
Shane took a step toward him. Lisa moved between the two men and waited until Rafe disappeared out the front door before looking back at Shane.
“Okay, don’t get pissed.”
“Don’t get pissed?” he asked with wide eyes. “The guy’s a criminal. One you asked me to check out. You’d better start talking. And fast.”
She bit her lip.
“Lis?” His hands moved to his hips.
Lisa tugged him into the guestroom and closed the door. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Do it anyway.”
The tone of his voice said he wasn’t putting up with her excuses. She knew that tone far too well. On a long breath, she told him about the Furies, about meeting Rafe and their eventual partnership.
“Holy shit.” Shane dropped onto the end of the bed. “Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?”
“Apparently. But thanks for pointing that out.”
“You can’t trust this guy.”
“Do I look stupid?”
“At the moment, yeah,” he said on a pathetic laugh.
“Okay, look. He’s my best shot at getting Alecto back. And if I want to find Tisiphone, he’s my best shot right now at that, too. And I think he might know where Magaera is. So, yeah, I’m going along with it. Whether you like it or not.”
“How do you know you’re even safe with the guy?”
It was that cop instinct of his kicking in, questioning everything. Distrusting everyone. He’d seen too much in his life working the streets and at some point had stopped believing people were innately good deep down inside. She had her own belief issues, but Shane’s ran much deeper.
And knowing that softened her. “It’s a gut feeling.”
“Aw, shit.” He rolled his eyes.
There went her sympathy. “Just shut up and listen. Yes, he’s a thief, but he’s not violent. He’s had plenty of opportunities to stick it to me, if you will, and he hasn’t. No, I don’t trust him. But I’m not afraid of him either.”
“So you’re going to go along with this?”
“For now.”
“And what if you don’t find the Furies?”
She heard the skeptical tone. He didn’t believe they actually existed. She knew otherwise. “I will.”
He closed his eyes, opened them. “Lisa, at some point you have to let this obsession go.”
Her back bristled. She wasn’t going to let him talk her out of this. And she wasn’t going down that road with him again, either. “I will. When I find them.”
She stepped toward the door.
His hand stopped her. “Hold on,” he said softer, turning her toward him. “You got a place to stay tonight?”
She couldn’t stay mad at him when she knew he was genuinely worried. “Yes. We have hotel reservations.”
“Screw that.” He fished a key out of his pocket and handed it to her. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”
“Shane, we already—”
He held up a warning hand. “Don’t say no. It’s not a question. If you’re gonna go through with this crazy idea, you’re gonna stay at my place where I can get a read on this guy before you take off again.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, that look doesn’t work with me, Lis. Now listen. I’m on duty tonight. I only came over here for a few minutes to see you. I should be home sometime after midnight. Be sure you’re there. And don’t make any plans to run out tomorrow morning before I get up. We’ve got more talking to do.”
She frowned and reluctantly took the key. There was no sense arguing with him. She knew when he meant business. “Fine. One night.”
“For as long as you’re in Chicago,” he corrected.
She pulled open the door.
“Lis?”
“Fine,” she huffed, walking toward the front door, knowing he wouldn’t quit until he got his way. The man was exasperating. No wonder he was still single. “For as long as I’m in Chicago.”
Which sure as hell wouldn’t be long, if she had anything to say about it.
Rafe was in the hallway talking to her mother when she and Shane emerged from the bedroom. He glanced at her, curious, his gaze flicking to what she knew was Shane’s rigid don’t-mess-with-me face behind her. Her mother smiled, oblivious to the raging testosterone pumping through her entryway.
Lisa blew out a frustrated breath. The only bright spot in this whole gigantic nightmare was that her father had retreated to bed already.
They said their good-byes, Lisa managed to get out of the house with only one Tupperware container full of chocolate-chip cookies—sustenance, her mother told her—and they climbed into the rental car. Silence was a welcome sound. She drew in a long breath of cool air.
“Yeah,” Rafe said sarcastically. “That was fun.”
Lisa started the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “Stuff it, Sullivan.”
He was quiet on the drive across town. When he realized they weren’t headed back toward the airport, he sat up
straighter. “You missed your turn.”
“Not exactly.”
His brows lifted in question.
She shifted. “We’re staying at Shane’s.”
His eyes widened. “Do I even have a say in this?”
“No.”
“Even better,” he mumbled, settling back in his seat.
He could bitch and moan all he wanted. She didn’t care. She was letting him tag along as it was. He should be grateful she hadn’t drop-kicked his ass already.
Lisa glanced in the rearview mirror as she headed north on Pulaski Road. Headlights switched lanes behind her and looked to be approaching fast. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and moved into the right lane.
“What?” Rafe asked.
“Nothing. Some idiot behind us is swerving in and out of traffic. Probably drunk.”
He turned in his seat and glanced behind them. She looked back in the mirror. The lights barreled closer.
Rafe tensed. “He’s gonna hit us. Pull over.”
Lisa glanced in the mirror again. He was right. Her adrenaline jumped. “There’s nowhere else to go.” A car had moved up along their left. Parked cars sat against the curb to their right.
“Step on the gas then!” His hand clamped over her knee, and he pressed down hard, making her jump.
The car shot forward. She swerved through traffic, tightened her hands on the wheel and tried not to hit anything. The vehicle behind them sped up, following her path, steadily closing the gap between them.
“Carajo.” Rafe’s hands settled at her waist. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and slid over the low console until his big body was beneath her.
She jerked the wheel and corrected. “What the hell are you doing?”
His foot tucked beneath hers, taking possession of the gas pedal. “I’m saving our asses, Mario. Move over.”
She had little time to do anything else. His large hands closed over the wheel. He cursed as he dropped one arm and repositioned the seat back about a foot to make room for his long legs. Then he turned the car to the right with a hard jerk. Her body slammed against his before she had time to latch her seat belt. The side street was empty but for a car up in the distance. Rafe’s foot pressed down on the accelerator. He glanced in the rearview mirror again, his expression tensing more and more by the second.
Lisa whipped around. That wasn’t a drunk driver. The car was still with them. It had dropped back after that last turn, but was steadily regaining speed.
A loud crack resounded. The glass in the back window shattered. Lisa screamed.
Rafe shoved her head down between her knees. “Stay down!” The car jerked again, this time to the left.
“They’re shooting at us!”
“Yeah, I figured that out.” He swerved around a parked car, pressed on the gas and tore down an alley between two large buildings. Tires squealed. Metal pinged as shots rang out again.
“Get your seat belt on!”
Lisa’s blood pulsed. She scrambled for the belt, locked it with swift fingers. She looked up just as they shot out of the alley.
Pedestrians scrambled on the sidewalk to get out of the way. Rafe whipped the car to the right. Her hand braced against the dashboard. Through wide eyes she spotted a Cadillac coming from the other direction.
Her breath caught. Oh, God…they weren’t going to make it.
Metal clanged against metal as the Caddie clipped the side of their rental. The front right tire hit the curb. Rafe swore. His hands gripped the wheel as he tried to overcorrect.
They rolled before Lisa even felt the impact.
Chapter Seven
“Lisa?”
The hand against her shoulder shook her hard. Lisa’s eyes shot open at the jolt.
It took a moment for her head to clear. When it did, she realized she was upside down, hanging from her seat belt. Blood rushed to her forehead. Pain cut across her abdomen and shoulder as fuzzy memories of the accident flashed in her mind.
She craned her neck so she could see Rafe. He’d already unhooked his belt and was trying to get hers undone.
“Oh…God.”
“Hold on. I almost have it.” Muscles strained in his jaw and shoulders as he worked the seat belt free.
Someone had tried to run them off the road. Someone had shot at them.
A tangy scent hit her nostrils. “What is that?”
His head darted up. Fingers paused on her belt. He looked through the open space behind them where the rear window used to be. Seeing the disbelief race across his features, she twisted as much as she could so her gaze could follow.
A car—the one that must have hit them—was on fire.
“¡Hijo de puta!” He glanced back at her seat belt and worked faster.
Gas. Oh, shit. They were leaking gas.
“Hurry!” she yelled.
He swore again and yanked the belt harder. As Lisa looked back through the window, her heart rate kicked up in her chest.
Hurry, hurry, hurry…
The belt gave with a snap. She landed hard against Rafe’s chest. His arms closed around her, and in an instant he was wriggling them both out of the vehicle-turned-fire hazard.
When he was all the way out, he grasped her hands and yanked hard. “Go!” He half-pushed, half-pulled her away from the car.
“My pack!” She turned before he could stop her, dropped to her knees and reached back inside the vehicle.
“Fuck me! Let it go!” He gripped her around the waist and pulled violently. The pack slipped from her fingers.
Lisa kicked and struggled out of his arms. “I need it. Dammit, I almost had it!”
He swore again and pushed her hard away from the car. Her butt hit the pavement just as his head and shoulders disappeared inside the vehicle.
Shouts caught Lisa’s attention, and her gaze darted to the burning car only yards away. For the first time, she saw the trail of gasoline trickling from the rental.
She scrambled to her feet.
“Rafe!”
He jerked out of the vehicle and ran toward her, backpack in hand. Strong arms caught her around the waist and thrust her down behind a parked car halfway down the block.
Gasoline met flame. Fire raced along the ground. The rental ignited in a fireball of metal and glass, and the scent of burning rubber scarred the air.
Tires squealed somewhere behind the burning car.
Rafe’s head darted up. Before Lisa had time to grasp her surroundings, he glanced over the hood of the pickup they’d used as cover. In one swift movement he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him.
She shot to her feet as he set off at a dead run.
His legs were longer. She had a hard time keeping up, still reeling from the accident. Just when she’d matched his pace, he jerked her to an abrupt halt and darted into a smoky tavern.
He paused long enough for Lisa’s eyes to adjust to the smoke and swirling lights. A band in the corner was playing a bad version of Clapton’s “Cocaine.” Patrons filled the bar, and the dance floor near the stage was packed with bodies. Glasses clinked and voices resounded through the crowded room. A woman sitting at a table to Lisa’s left laughed and threw her head back.
The door behind them wrenched open. Startled by the blast of cold air, Lisa turned and saw two men frantically searching the maze of smoke and people.
Her pulse jumped. Rafe tugged her toward the back of the bar before she could get a close look at either man. They skirted tables before tearing out a back door and racing across an alley.
Her lungs burned, but it was obvious Rafe wasn’t slowing down for anything, especially not for her to catch her breath. The memory of that fire convinced her she wasn’t slowing down, either.
On the other side of the block he pulled her into the shadows. They hugged the concrete building, moving swiftly, putting as much distance between themselves and the explosion as possible.
His pace didn’t slow until they were a good six blocks away from the
accident. He finally loosened his death grip on her arm, letting go long enough so he could look around to make sure they weren’t being followed. Satisfied, he signaled a passing taxi.
Lisa leaned forward, braced both hands on her knees and tried to draw air into her searing lungs. She could still taste the smoke from the fire. Her ears were ringing, her eyes stung.
Streetlamps cast shadows across the concrete. Cars whizzed by on the pavement. Garbage lined the gutters in the dilapidated neighborhood, and a Walgreens sign flickered down the street. Rafe pushed her into the cab before she could get her bearings and figure out just where the hell they were.
“Where to?”
Startled by Rafe’s gruff voice, she rattled off Shane’s address on Sheridan Avenue near the waterfront.
When the car pulled out into traffic, Rafe darted a look behind them. On a deep breath he finally settled back in the seat, dropped his head against the headrest and closed his eyes.
Lisa tried to do the same, but her pulse was racing, making it hard to feel anything other than mind-numbing fear. Pain finally registered—in her back, in her legs, in her arm. If it hadn’t been for Rafe, she’d have gone up in flames right along with that car.
He stretched out his long legs, groaned. The backpack landed with a thud near her feet.
And that’s when it hit her.
Holy crap. He’d saved her life.
Not only that, but he’d pulled her pack from the vehicle before the explosion. He’d gone back for it knowing he could have been caught in a raging inferno. He’d gone back for it not knowing what was inside.
A wave of unease rolled through her as she glanced toward her feet.
If he’d known what was in that backpack, he’d have grabbed it and run. And she had a pretty strong hunch he wouldn’t have bothered to pull her to safety first.
***
Rafe waited while Lisa unlocked the door to her brother’s third-floor apartment. Her hands were shaking. She was having trouble getting the key in the latch.
The adrenaline was starting to go. He knew the signs all too well. She was about to crash, and from the look of her, she was going to hit hard.
He slipped the key from her hand and turned the lock himself. She didn’t protest, confirming his suspicions, and the door gave with a pop. He pushed it open and let Lisa go in first, then watched to make sure she didn’t lose it right there in the doorway.