Winning Moves

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Winning Moves Page 24

by Lisa Renee Jones


  * * *

  AN HOUR AFTER traveling in the pitch-black night, Nicole found herself, once again, hiding in the bushes, Constantine by her side. The rain was gone, but a starless, moonless sky spoke of more to come. Eerie silence thickened in the humid night air, heavy and ominous.

  With an incline of his head, Constantine directed her attention to what appeared to be a small trailer park only a hill beyond the cover of the woods.

  “We’re meeting Agent Flores there?” she whispered.

  He pointed, indicating lights bobbing and weaving down the old dirt road leading to the trailers. She swallowed hard, her stomach fluttering with worry. He thought something was wrong. She could tell by the stiffness of his body, and by the uneasy vibe he gave off since departing the cave.

  He didn’t look at her when he spoke. “Stay low and let’s move.” And then he was gone. Nicole scrambled forward as he disappeared beneath the waist-deep grass, making fast tracks down the hill. She bent down, following his lead. The possibility of another snake crossed her mind, but she shoved the worry aside. She had to keep up with Constantine. He was moving so fast that she had to push to catch up. And then, as if slamming into a wall, he stopped. Chest heaving, Nicole skidded to a halt and kneeled beside him.

  She watched in silence as a nearby car’s lights went off, and the passenger’s door opened, inviting them inside. A safe haven was only a few feet away.

  Nicole grabbed Constantine’s arm, silently asking for confirmation that this was their ride. He gave her a quick nod. Before she could fully embrace the glory of being saved, he took her hand and pulled her forward, making a beeline toward the car. And that was when all hell broke loose.

  Out of the silence, the sound of motorcycle engines blasted the air, and Nicole knew without being told, they were in trouble, about to be found. Their ride was so close. Nicole clung to the hope of shelter, but to her horror, Constantine tugged her in the opposite direction, detouring from the nearby safety that merely taunted her.

  Moments later, Constantine maneuvered her behind a trailer, completely out of Agent Flores’s view. “Why aren’t we with Flores?” she whispered urgently, watching as Constantine bent down and yanked a piece of underpinning from the trailer.

  “They didn’t find us on their own.” He motioned her forward, into the darkness beneath the trailer. “Go.”

  She would have argued but gunfire filled the air, followed by the sound of a motorcycle engine growing closer. Without further hesitation, she scrambled beneath the house, Constantine at her heels. Cobwebs skimmed her face and she bit back a yelp. Constantine quickly put the siding in place not a second too soon, as a motorcycle sped directly by their location. Any fear of what was in the darkness disappeared as Nicole realized how close they’d come to being discovered.

  Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, her mind racing just as wildly. Sooner or later they would be found. What would happen to them? What about the innocent people in this trailer park? Did Constantine think Flores had led the attackers to them on purpose? Surely not. That had to be his gun firing at the bikers. Someone in the trailer park might have called the police, but they were so far off the beaten path. Would it be soon enough to save them?

  A penlight came on, barely illuminating Constantine’s face. He motioned her forward. “This way,” Constantine whispered, leading her to the front end of the trailer, weaving through the darkness as if it were daylight.

  The sound of a motorcycle neared again…no, two—two motorcycles. Constantine waited until they passed and then eased a small patch of siding away to scan the situation beyond it. Nicole scooted forward and did the same. Unbelievably, they were right beside a pickup truck.

  “Bingo,” he murmured, glancing at her. “The minute you see the passenger’s door open, start running and don’t stop until you are inside.”

  As usual, he didn’t wait for a reply. He was already on the move, slipping through the opening that seemed too small for him. She tried to get her mind around everything that was happening, trying to make it some nightmare, not her life. But it was her life.

  She watched Constantine stealing the truck. Pressing her fist against her chest, she thought her heart might explode. She let out a sigh of relief as the car door opened. She sucked in another breath before wiggling through the hole, not giving herself time to think about what might happen if this went bad.

  Nicole cleared the trailer and crawled toward the truck. A motorcycle sounded again, then another gunshot. Her heart lurched. Digging her knees into the ground, she pushed forward. Finally, she was there, climbing into the truck. She pulled the door shut, ducking below the window, and not a moment too soon. A motorcycle sped by, but this time it stopped. Male voices sounded, pieces of the sentences reaching her ears. They were going to start a search on foot.

  Constantine worked the wires beneath the dash, his head low. “Good,” he said of the conversation they’d overheard. “We want them on foot so we get ahead of them.” He motioned with his chin. “There’s a gun inside the bag on the seat. Get it out. You’re going to need it.”

  She did as he said, removing the hefty handgun that was sure to fire with a kick that would jolt her from here to Mexico.

  The truck’s engine roared to life. Yes! Nicole screamed in her mind.

  Constantine floored the accelerator, the tires on the truck screeching against dirt and rock as he made a rapid turn to the left.

  A motorcycle appeared by her window; the driver pointed a gun at her. Her hand tightened on her gun. Constantine swerved at the rider and the bike crashed. One danger gone. More to come.

  Nicole slid open the rear window of the cab; a pair of bikers were on their tail. Aiming, she shot at the tires of the nearest motorcycle. She hit her target, but the backfire of the weapon sent a jolt of pain up her arm, through her shoulder and into her chest. Worth the pain though. The biker skidded across the terrain and crashed as the other one had.

  She steeled herself to fire again, but was thankful when the second pursuer dropped back before she had to. Sinking into her seat, she let out a breath. “I think they’re gone.”

  “They’ll be back.”

  She glanced over at him. “I figured, but let me revel in momentary success.”

  “Those were Carlos Menchaca’s men,” he announced. “I’m sure you’ve seen his name in the file.”

  “Menchaca,” she said, ready to focus. “Right. He runs drugs along the border for Alvarez.”

  They’d cleared the woods now; a highway was within sight. “Carlos will see what I did as a personal betrayal. He considered me a friend. I fooled him when no one has. He’ll come after me for that reason alone. Pleasing Alvarez will be nothing but bonus points.”

  “I thought he was part of the Alvarez takedown?”

  “He was supposed to be. Somehow he slipped away the night of the bust. I’d hoped he’d be found before he became a problem. But since that little fantasy hasn’t come true, I have only one option.”

  Nicole swallowed. She knew what he meant. He was talking about going after Carlos.

  Life as she knew it seemed to get more complicated every second she was with Constantine. Every time she turned around, he was walking that thin line she tried to avoid, stepping in the gray instead of living with black and white, right and wrong.

  It was easy to decipher Constantine’s reasoning without even hearing him speak. The world would be a better place without men like Alvarez and Carlos, and she didn’t disagree. But she also knew the law existed for a reason. To protect people’s rights. When you let it fade away, the system, and its foundation for existing, did as well. Which left her with the question of how to handle Constantine. She glanced at his ruggedly handsome profile, not sure of her answer.

  Should she support him? Try to convert him to the straight and narrow? But then, a man like Constantine could make a woman forget herself. Maybe she should run like hell before she was the one to get converted.

  10


  CONSTANTINE CLUTCHED the steering wheel of the Mustang Coupe he’d nabbed about twenty minutes outside of the trailer park. Had Flores—one of the few people he trusted—betrayed him? He didn’t want to believe that. Flores had been like a brother, a close friend, one of the few he’d ever called a friend in fact. But then, his world was corrupt; his life, riddled with enemies.

  “No answer,” Nicole said, dialing one of the disposable cell phones they’d bought at a twenty-four-hour, touristy-type store. They had both gotten T-shirts and cleaned up. Nicole had even bought a pair of tennis shoes. “Not from my boss or my sister. I can understand my boss. He’s probably at the hospital with his wife, but I’ll feel better when I hear he’s keeping me on this case. I’m more prepared than anyone to put Alvarez away. Even with a slight delay of the trial from all of this I can be back in Austin and started in a week. If it goes well, we can keep the jury already selected.”

  “I’m sure your boss will see that,” Constantine said, his reply weak, distracted. Nicole’s concern for her family proved how different their lives were. Back at the cave he’d almost convinced himself they were alike, that maybe he was ready for the kind of connection they shared. He was already leaving the agency, after all. But that wasn’t the case. His enemies would always be in the shadows, a threat to him and anyone near him. Hell. Carlos would kill Nicole just to prove Constantine couldn’t protect her. If he knew Constantine had feelings for her, that would only give him more satisfaction.

  “I hope so,” she said of her boss’s understanding, drawing him back into the conversation he’d all but forgotten. “I mean, what’s the point in putting another D.A. in danger. I’m already a part of this, and I’ve accepted being in hiding until the trial.”

  Nicole had asked him a million questions about where they would hide, and how they would pull off getting back for the trial. She tried to control things when she felt uneasy, he’d figured that out, both in and out of bed. It didn’t bother him. In fact, he rather liked knowing he’d broken the barrier in bed. But why the idea of doing so outside of it appealed to him, he didn’t know. Not that it mattered anymore. He had no business getting close to her. At this point, he had to stop the bond that was only beginning to take form between them before it was too late. He was a one-night stand and nothing more. She needed to know that. Hate him if she had to, but do so alive.

  He cast her a sideways look; her hand was shaking ever-so-slightly as she punched the cell numbers again. With a jerky movement, she shoved hair behind her ear. “My sister—”

  “Is in Hawaii celebrating the results of her bar exam,” he told her, his voice full of a calm certainty. “She’s safe.”

  A frustrated sound slid from her lips. “I’d feel better if I heard her voice. I told you my father would refuse security. It figures he’s the only one I’ve been able to reach.”

  Constantine tried to comfort her. “At least he agreed to send your mother away, and he’s trying to reach your sister, too. Even though Alvarez is standing trial, his reach is far and deep. And his crew know what’s expected of them.” He switched gears. “Dial Flores again, will you?”

  She thumbed through the list of numbers and did as he asked, handing him the phone. After several rings, Constantine gave up, grinding his teeth to keep from cursing.

  “You’re worried,” she said, and he could feel her looking at him.

  He focused on the white lines of the highway rather than her, not sure what she wanted him to say. He was worried and he didn’t want to lie to her. Before morning he planned to be a long ways from here. He’d already told her he had a boat at Padre Island that was well-stocked with supplies, and even plenty of cash.

  When he didn’t answer, she probed. “Can’t you call someone else?”

  “I could,” he agreed reluctantly, “but I’d rather not until I figure out where the leak is. Carlos found us somehow.”

  “Could they have followed Flores?”

  “Maybe.” Of course, he’d considered that option, but Flores was careful—too careful for stupid mistakes. Constantine didn’t say anything more, didn’t want to add to her concerns.

  “Try to get some rest,” he suggested. “We have a few hours before we stop.”

  He needed to think. If Flores had betrayed him, where did that leave him? There were higher-ups he could go to, but again, who did he trust?

  She let the seat ease backward and turned on her side, facing him, her hands under her cheek. As she watched him, she asked, “This won’t end at the trial, will it?”

  His gut twisted with that question. She didn’t understand how true her assumption was. He’d learned the hard way. He’d lost a brother when the legal system failed. “Even if we put away Alvarez, Carlos will keep coming. For me. For you. For anyone he can bleed for vengeance. So in answer to your question, no, it won’t end with this trial.”

  She was silent for several seconds. “Capture him and I promise to convict him.”

  He glanced at her. She couldn’t promise that. She knew it as well as he did.

  Darkness slid through him. He was angry. At himself for failing his brother. At the system for failing his brother. And at Nicole for working both sides of that system.

  “You and I know that attorneys can get criminals off. You’ve done it yourself.” The air chilled with his words but he pressed onward. “I get that you think you’re cleaning your soul by doing things by the book. But frankly, sometimes that book does more harm than good.”

  “So murder is okay if you do it for the right reason?”

  Who was she to judge him? “I’m not after a big salary or even recognition. I simply want Alvarez and Carlos stopped.”

  “You bastard,” she hissed at him. “That was a horrible thing to say to me.”

  “I’m just speaking the truth, sweetheart, and I didn’t say you. I meant in general. Tell me. How does the possibility of letting someone like Alvarez or Carlos walk on a damn technicality make you feel? It’s okay to let them go and damage more people’s lives? You can live with that?”

  “No one says they will walk. But what would you have me do? Fabricate evidence to ensure convictions?”

  “If you know that person is guilty, and you know they will kill innocent people, how can you let them get away with it?”

  Her voice was a bit breathless. “I don’t know what happened to you while you were with Alvarez, but whatever it was, it’s destroyed your perspective.” Her tone grew stronger, more forceful. “You can’t work within a system you don’t support. You can’t convict criminals when you are willing to become one.”

  “Don’t you get it?” he asked, laughing bitterly. “The system asked me to become one. That was the only way to take down Alvarez. You use all the wrongs done by people like me to make your cases and yourself feel safe and honorable. I am what I am because of the system. Hate me if you will, but if you fail to convict Alvarez or even Carlos, I’ll finish the job for you.”

  He focused on the road, knew he was right about what he’d said, yet he could feel the heat of her angry stare, feel her judgment, her disapproval. And it bothered him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Why? Why did this woman get to him so damn badly? Why did he care what she thought?

  She said nothing more, turning away from him, offering him her back. He’d succeeded in pushing her away. Good. So why did he feel like absolute shit?

  * * *

  NICOLE JERKED AWAKE, her sleep restless, her conflict with Constantine—along with worry for her family—tormenting her thoughts.

  She sat up as they pulled into a hotel parking garage. “Why are we stopping?”

  “I need rest and to eat a real meal.” He didn’t look at her as he pushed the car door open and stepped outside.

  She sat there a minute, debating how to handle him, noting his wording—“I” not “we.” The tension from their argument remained as thick as the Texas heat, oppressive and ready to suffocate any cordiality left between them. And it bothered her. It
bothered her in a big way.

  She’d spent considerable time during the drive pretending to sleep, fretting over their argument. Trying to figure out why their conflict mattered so much. He’d been a complete jerk, saying things intentionally to hurt her. Painful things that hit a nerve because they were the same words she said to herself deep in the night when sleep refused to come.

  Constantine pushed the limits of every rule he came in contact with. He was wild, living dangerously close to the edge of trouble, justifying his actions in the name of honor. He represented everything she’d been running from in her life. Running being the operative word. But it seemed she couldn’t run from her past anymore. Inviting a renegade FBI agent into her bed proved that. What that meant exactly she hadn’t decided. All she knew was she would not be intimidated or crushed by a few harsh words spoken by Constantine or anyone else.

  And no matter what his claim, he’d rather defeat Alvarez and Carlos in a courtroom than outside the law. Otherwise, he would have taken one of the chances he claimed he possessed while undercover to kill them. He did want to do what was right. He was simply feeling the effects of three years in a hellhole.

  One thing was for sure, Nicole thought, reaching for the door—they had to make this work. She couldn’t run from him now. Nor he from her. They were stuck together for at least a week, maybe more. Constantine had to include her in the decisions being made. She wouldn’t be shut out.

  She walked to the rear of the vehicle and stopped in front of him. His hands were on his hips, the look on his face impatient. He wanted food and rest; she wanted answers. “Where are we exactly?”

  His eyes glinted with steel. “An hour from the boat.”

  “Then why stop? I thought you wanted—”

  “To eat and get some rest.”

  Her lips thinned, her eyes probing, searching the hard expression in those eyes for some vestige of peace. But she found none. No emotion, no sensuality, no comfort. He’d shut her out. “Constantine—”

 

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