by Jenna Ryan
“I doubt if luck had a whole lot to do with it. Just a theory,” he said when she stared at him. “Far from solid, and no, I’m not going to fill you in. It’ll only piss you off.”
“You think someone followed me from Black Creek.”
“I think you’re smart and resourceful and you did everything you could to get out of there alive.”
“But Fixx is smarter and more resourceful, meaning he has more resources, and he already had people in the area by the time whoever’s holding Rachel called me at the bar. I had to run, though. But there’s the GPS tracking thing, and that wasn’t smart. Also, Rachel might have talked. Pain, threat of disfigurement—she could have caved. Or maybe one of his insiders, whoever and whatever that might be, had information. Except you said you don’t think he has access to WPP files. This is very confusing, Gage.”
“Off the scale,” he agreed.
She shivered, hopefully from the cold. “Can we get into Bear’s truck, start it, and get warm?”
For an answer, Gage opened the door and, circling her waist with his hands, helped her up and in.
The engine did indeed sound like a locomotive—a very old, very rough one that backfired from time to time.
“Serious horses under that hood,” Gage remarked. “None of this is your fault. You know that, right?”
She pulled off Bear’s slicker and shook her hair loose. “I could have said no when I was approached. It’s a sentence unto itself, and I’ve used it before, many times.”
“With the FBI?”
“That’s a point. God, Gage, I was so calm and centered in Las Vegas.”
“You’re calm and centered here.”
“No, I’m not. I look and act that way, but inside, my mind’s buzzing. Constantly whipping thoughts around. And being with you isn’t helping me combat that.”
“Why?” He grinned. “Because you don’t like taking orders? Or because you want to make out with me?”
Punch him or laugh. It was a tough choice. Amber took the less aggressive path and, tipping her head at him, smiled. “Maybe a little of both. But then, they say patients often fall in love with their doctors, so who knows which feelings are valid and which aren’t?”
“Making out doesn’t require feelings.” Reaching over, Gage caught a strand of her hair and played with it. “It’s a jungle thing.”
She teased him with her expression. “Primal instinct?”
“I’m a guy, Amber. I’m a sucker for the most basic sexual lure.”
Her situation with Fixx wasn’t the only form of insanity, Amber reflected. On the other hand, she could be dead by tomorrow, so why not indulge her senses?
One quick taste, she promised herself and let him use the hair he still held to draw her forward. Rain wouldn’t melt her, and neither would a kiss. Quick and simple and… “Oh, what the hell,” she murmured.
She caught hold of his jacket as he hauled her across the seat, and took his mouth with a hunger she hadn’t realized she possessed.
Hadn’t realized he possessed, either. The taste of him exploded in her head the instant his lips met hers. There was heat and need and far too many other sensations for her to untangle.
The self-control she’d prided herself on possessing splintered. She wanted more than just a kiss, much more than a taste. She wanted to explore his mouth, then take that exploration deeper, lower until she’d seen and felt every part of him.
He used his tongue to probe her mouth. She used her teeth to nip. His hands slid from her shoulders to her arms, then up again to cup her head and hold it steady for a more thorough invasion.
“Definitely going crazy.” She drew back ever so slightly, couldn’t seem to find air in the truck. Could a person suffocate from desire? “This shouldn’t be happening.”
“Yeah, well, life’ll screw you around sometimes.” Gage kissed her cheek. Then he captured her mouth again and made her head spin.
A dozen rockets burst in her brain. One after another, like the blast of a high-powered rifle.
Her fists clenched on Gage’s jacket as reality crashed in. She tore her mouth from his. “Those aren’t rockets.”
He was already moving. “Stay down. Stay with me. Right with me.”
More shots blasted through the air. Amber hit the ground and remained low. A small army of Fixx’s men was all she could think.
“Look right,” Gage said from in front of her. “They’re up on that knoll. We’ll have to circle back to Bear’s shack.”
Amber didn’t argue, didn’t hesitate. She pulled the gun from the pocket of her hoodie and ran with him.
Bear was firing back. Bullets flew every direction. A stream of them whizzed past Amber’s arm and zinged off the side of the old tractor.
“Stay down,” Gage told her. He used his body as a shield so she could make it to the camo-painted bus. “Keep moving right to the far end.”
She did as he instructed and peered around the back door at the side of the shack. “Do you think they spotted us?”
“Doubt it.” Leaning over her, Gage followed the bullet spray coming from both directions. “They probably think we’re inside.”
“Which we should be, helping Bear.”
“He’ll hold his own.”
“Maybe, but I can’t let him die for me.”
“I know.” He kept following the line of fire. “Okay, get ready.” Five endless seconds passed before he gave her a small push. “Go.”
She identified the door and ran for it. “Don’t be locked,” she begged it. Twisting the latch, she shoved. And tumbled into the shack when it gave.
She landed hard on her hands and knees. Gage helped her up and pushed her forward. “Where are they?” he shouted at Bear.
“Every damn where, far as I can tell.” Crouched at the side of a tall window, Bear used his rifle to point. “One, two, three, planted like bull rushes. Dumb assholes. They should be moving.”
“There could be others already moving.” Gage went down on one knee next to him.
Bear shook his head. “Were others. I took out three sneaking round the side.” He fired again. “Those ones up on the hill are too scared now to budge.”
Amber eyed the assault rifles standing in a long row beside him. Nudging Gage’s shoulder, she said, “They taught me how to use a rifle. I can help. I might not hit anyone, but I can at least add to the firepower.”
Bear thrust a weapon at her. “Go for it. Just remember, these things kick like a bitch.”
In front of her, Gage took aim. “Your slip’s showing, asshole.” And he fired five shots in quick succession. Amber saw a man stagger out from behind a tree and drop.
“Two to go.” Bear pounded Gage’s knee. “All together now. Make noise.”
Amber eased over to a smaller window and pulled the trigger. The kickback would have sent her onto her butt if she hadn’t been braced for it. Bear was right. It hurt like hell. And made her angry enough to keep right on firing.
“Okay, I got the one on the right in the arm.” Bear switched rifles. “He’ll haul ass back to his truck. Dickheads like him always do.”
“You hope.” Gage fired again. “There. Movement at two o’clock.”
“And ten,” Amber noted.
“Looks like the reinforcements are here.” Bear bared his teeth in an anticipatory smile. “This is me enjoying myself. You two take off. I’ll keep these pricks busy.”
“We can’t just…” Amber began.
But a head jerk by Bear was followed by a, “We have to,” from Gage. “You sure you’re good?” he asked the big man.
“Basking in sunshine. Disk on the table might tell you a little. I didn’t get far before company showed up. Now stop distracting me and get the hell out of my place. And don’t make ’em chase you. That’d piss me off enough I might come after you myself. You might not know this, but there’s a fat reward out on your lady friend. It started on the underground network, but it’s my guess the news will spread like wildfire.”
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Gage shouldered an extra rifle. “Any reward being offered by Owen Fixx is bound to be as phony as hell.”
“Which is partly why I ain’t turning her in.” Bear ended the sentence shooting and cursing at the chicken ass bastards in the bushes.
Amber didn’t want to leave. It felt cowardly and wrong. They’d get away. He might not. She dragged her feet. “I can’t live with the thought that someone died for me, Gage.”
He pulled her along. “Bear’s a survivor. He’ll be fine.”
She twisted the wrist he held. “You don’t know that, and neither does he. This isn’t Christmas. This is bad guys with an arsenal of weapons and a ton of motivation to keep right on shooting until they make their way inside.”
“You don’t move, I’m going to pick you up and carry you,” Gage warned her. “You need to trust me, or we’ll all be dead in a minute.”
Amber took one last look at Bear, firing away fast and furious, and gave in. “But I’m going to hate myself for this.”
“If that’s what it takes.”
They made it out the side door and back to the bus. Amber stayed right on Gage’s heels. She noticed he made a point of positioning himself between her and any potential shooter. By the time they reached the truck, her ears were ringing with rifle fire.
“On the floor,” Gage ordered.
“Thanks, but I’d rather see what’s coming at us.” Gun in hand, she positioned her forearms on the dash and watched for anything out of place around them.
Gage drove in a zigzag pattern for two miles. Then he picked up her cell phone and dialed Rachel’s number. The call was answered immediately.
“S’at you, sugar pie?”
“Sugar pie’s busy.” Gage winced as a renewed shaft of pain arrowed through his ribs. He bumped across the highway and started down a dirt road. “So are several of Fixx’s men. I don’t know how happy your boss is going to be when he finds out they’re shooting up the home of a former CIA agent while we’re heading into the hills.”
“You’re shitting me, pal.”
“Maybe, maybe not. In any case, they’re back there shooting, and sugar pie and me are laying down some serious distance between us and them. Just thought you’d like to know.” He broke the connection, tossed her the phone. “Don’t say it.”
She regarded her cell as if it were a snake. “Crazy.” Dazed, she blew out a breath. “Good crazy, but still. I thought about phoning her earlier. I didn’t really think I’d be able to get through. Why did they let her keep her cell phone?”
“It’s to their advantage to have the lines of communication open. In this case, it was to our advantage, as well. Bear did us a favor, I did one back. It might or might not work.”
Picking up the disk Bear had burned for them, Amber turned it over. Closing her eyes, she forced her muscles to relax. “One way or another, I guess we’ll find out.”
…
Gage kept his foot down hard on the gas. He hadn’t intended for Fixx’s men to get anywhere near Bear’s mini compound. Those guys were better than he’d expected. Which suggested that Fixx was using some of Mockerie’s people as well as his own.
He carved a labyrinthine path up into the mountains. The air grew darker, his stomach growled, and his side hurt like a mother. But Hidden Valley was the goal, and he didn’t intend for trouble to follow them there.
“Where are we?”
She’d been sleeping. The heavy rain, lack of food, and Elvis crooning early ballads had lulled her into a much-needed state of rest. Deep enough in, he hoped, to recharge, because their nightmare was far from over. If Mockerie’s people were indeed involved, he wasn’t even sure it had actually begun.
“Did I— Ouch.” She rubbed the back of her head, sat up a little straighter. “Have we been driving on this rocky road to hell the whole time?”
“For about an hour. We’re almost there.”
“Good. Where? Never mind. Hidden Valley. Please tell me it’s really well hidden.”
“It is.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Think Hole-in-the-Wall, Butch and Sundance, then add in mud structures, herb gardens, potting kilns, and farm animals roaming wherever. Also a winery and a whiskey distillery, but I’m not sure the last thing’s legal.”
“Okay, I’m forming a picture. It’s kind of intriguing. Who runs the place?”
“Krista.”
“That’s it? First names only?”
“Pretty much.”
Twisting around, she located her pack, drew out one of the travel coffee mugs. “This’ll be cold, but no caffeine is ever bad.”
“Don’t say that to Krista.”
Amber flipped the top up, drank the cool coffee, and felt better. “What’s Krista like? Is she a hippie?”
“She’s German and quirky. If it doesn’t match, she wears it. Her son’s name is Knute.”
“Is he quirky, too?”
“He’s resentful.” Gage held out his hand for the mug. “He won’t like seeing me with you.”
“There’s good news. Let me guess. Anything or anyone you have is something or someone he wants. Like that?”
“Exactly like that.”
“Tell him about the killers who are after me. I bet he won’t want your someone for long.”
“Look in a mirror, Amber.”
Amusement rose as she watched him drink. “Men place too high a value on physical appearance. Take Owen Fixx, for example. He hired me because he thought I was pretty. I had far less experience than two of the other people who applied for the hotel manager’s job, yet he chose me.”
“Didn’t you have an in with his son?”
“Gareth’s not an in. He’s a, well, a rival of sorts, I suppose.”
“Father and son rivals? Is that sick, or am I going in the wrong direction?”
“It’s a little sick. And sad.”
“Who usually wins the sick and sad battles?”
“Gareth. It’s complicated between them. Between all of them, really. Luka’s jealous of Gareth and of Fixx’s brother, Tony. Tony would like nothing better than to knock Fixx on his ass and take over his end of Mockerie’s business, while Gareth wants to write a hit song, prove to everyone that he has his own unique talent.”
“You said he was anal.”
“He is. They all are. Rachel’s not so much anal as needy and neurotic, but she has a high opinion of herself and she’s very beautiful. Somehow, she fit right into the family fold.” Amber linked her fingers together. “Gage, we will go after her, won’t we? Needy or not, self-centered or not, she’s my sister, and any bravado they or we hear is nothing but an act. She’s scared. Being nasty is her way of masking it.”
“We’ll go after her.” Gage squinted into the premature darkness. “Rain’s not helping me spot the landmarks. Look for a hickory tree dead split by lightning. It’ll be on your side.”
Amber leaned forward to rest her arms on the dash. She pushed the hair from one side of her face. A spectacular face that was starting to haunt him, Gage reflected grimly.
“I see plenty of trees. No cell phone towers or power lines. Please say there are flushing toilets and showers, hot or cold.”
“Composting toilets and showers that run rain water.”
“Not my first choice, but I can make do. Food?”
“Depends on your palette.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Meaning?”
“Nothing in particular. Is that the dead hickory?”
She started to answer, but wound up skidding sideways into the door when he swerved left.
Righting herself, Amber stared at the windshield. “Is it my imagination, or did an arrow almost come through the glass?”
“Not your regular arrow.” Gage flashed the headlights three times. “It was a crossbow bolt.”
Still searching the trees, she rubbed her arms. “Does anyone you know believe in normal greetings?”
“One or two.” He nodded right as t
hey rounded a rough, tilted bend. “There’s the gate.”
She peered through the rain and murky dusk. “Where is it? All I see are tangled vines and bushes…” She did a double take. “Which are parting.”
“Just like the Red Sea, minus the biblical implications. This parting is done by people. Comm link,” he said when she frowned at him. “Short range, battery operated. A little communication tech is necessary to keep Hidden Valley hidden.”
“That’s very…comforting.”
Gage continued to check the twisty road behind them. The low-tech aspect might have been a comfort to her, but the glimpse of distant headlights he’d caught earlier in his rearview mirror definitely wasn’t.
…
Rachel’s thoughts ran in a loop, from people with guns to a scuzzy traitor to her ex-husband Owen.
The sparkling lights of Vegas had dazzled her. Owen had courted her. Married her. Given her anything and everything. She’d had a stylist cum assistant cum bodyguard in Lauren Crowe. The Crowe hadn’t been her friend, but she hadn’t threatened her, either. Lauren had taken too much testosterone in her triathlon days to attract Owen’s attention.
Helmut had kept her toned. That six-pack of his had been a true thing of beauty. And his Swedish accent had been to die for.
Once upon a time.
She’d trusted Tony. She’d also flirted with him, but only a little, because, well, because sisters-in-law did that, didn’t they?
And Gareth and Luka might not have been the best of friends, but they’d always been nice to her. Gareth more so than his cousin. Luka had a mean streak. Hadn’t let her see it very often, but when he had, Rachel couldn’t deny she’d felt a fearful tingle in the pit of her stomach.
No matter. She figured everyone around Owen—family, friends, and employees—for assholes at this point. Someone had actually had the audacity to stroll into this god-awful motel room, yank her hair, and give her a hard slap that had scratched her cheek.
“Probably leave a scar,” Rachel fretted, fingering the mark.
The doorknob turned, and she snatched her hand down, levered up on her elbows on the bed.
“There’s food if you want it,” the man who’d grabbed her at the filling station drawled around a wad of spearmint gum. “No point fussin’ about things you can’t change, honey lamb. Ain’t no point turning those doe eyes on me, neither.”