Warmth spread through his chest. It was hard to suppress the urge to drop onto the bed and pull her into his arms, to kiss the top of her head before moving on to kiss other parts of her body.
Strong. Smart. Sexy.
He couldn’t fault her reasoning, no matter how much he wanted to. She’d seen an injustice inflicted on her family and tried to work within the system to right the wrong. But when she couldn’t, she’d pursued her own path.
Much like he and his men did.
Dylan pushed the thought away. There’d be time later to ruminate on Jessie Lyon and what part she could have in his life. Right now they needed to get up to Mount Charleston, to the cabin the Brotherhood kept for retreats.
He went to the front of the trailer, away from temptation.
A pair of headlights illuminated the small road sign at the end of the lane for a few seconds before going black.
Dylan reached out and flicked the light switch, plunging them into darkness. He peered out the window as the car turned down the road, the engine going silent.
Could be somebody with a wonky car, the engine cutting out and the driver hoping for enough momentum to coast all the way home.
Could be something else.
The driver’s window came down as the car came level with the darkened trailer and something flew out.
It wasn’t a flurry of bullets.
It was much, much worse.
Chapter Five
Jessie woke with a start, smelling smoke. For a horrible second she was back in the warehouse and it’d caught fire, her guards abandoning her to die in the cage, alone and forgotten.
“Wake up.” The familiar voice shocked her back into the here and now. “Time to go.”
Dylan crouched by the side of the bed. He reached out and pulled her onto the floor beside him. His breathing was steady but fast. “They’re here.”
“Who?” She scrambled to gather her thoughts, still disoriented.
“Someone who wants the reward.”
Jessie’s pulse jumped into triple digits as she smelled the smoke. “The trailer’s on fire?”
“Yep.” Dylan tugged the duffel bag along the floor. “Bastards tossed a Molotov cocktail at the front door. They’re sitting out there, waiting for us to come out.”
“Damn.” She pressed her palms to the thin carpet. “How did they find us?”
“We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to survive.” Dylan slid his fingers along the edge of the carpet. “Don’t sit up. Good air’s down here, we’ll need all of it to get out of this.”
He yanked the carpet back to show a narrow wooden hatch. “Come on.”
She winced as he sat up only long enough to pull the door open, revealing a thin metal floor between them and the bottom of the trailer. Dylan punched it once, twice and the panel fell away.
Before she could react, he rolled her through the narrow slot and down into the dirt under the mobile home.
The air was thick and clouded with a combination of dust and smoke. Jessie looked around, seeing how the skirting on the underside of the trailer hid them from the killers outside. She dug her fingers into the dirt for leverage as Dylan dropped down beside her, the duffel bag mounted on his shoulders.
The trailer gave an ominous creak overhead.
Jessie’s eyes watered.
“This way. Stay quiet,” he said softly.
She held back a nervous laugh. As if anyone would hear them over the crackling of the fire over their heads, the flames finally breaking through to the inside and igniting the cushions, the dish towels, anything flammable.
They crawled a few feet to the back of the trailer, not far from the narrow bed she’d been sleeping in. A handle stuck out from one section of the cheap wooden planks making up the skirting running around the bottom of the trailer, obviously their objective.
Dylan gripped it and pulled it free, giving them a way out of the inferno.
A burst of hot air washed over them, scorching Jessie’s lungs.
“Listen to me.” He stared at her. “Head for the clump of bushes to your right, and hide at the base. Dig yourself into the dirt if you can. They’re going to be waiting for us to come out the front door, but that doesn’t mean they’re blind.” He pulled his pistol out. “I’ll cover you.”
“Then who’s going to cover you?” It was getting hard to speak, the smoke stealing her voice.
“I’ll be fine.” He edged himself to the gap, daring a fast look outside. “Go. Now.”
She scrambled out through the dirt and onto the thick gravel surrounding the mobile home, the rocks tearing at her exposed skin. Staying as low as she could, Jessie ran to the bushes, the thick shrubbery an attempt at decoration in the water-scarce environment.
From there she could see the trailer, now totally ablaze. Flames engulfed the small box, white smoke rising into the air.
No sirens.
No one came out from the adjoining trailers to offer to help or even to watch the inferno.
There was just the single black sedan sitting nearby, the windows down, waiting.
She gasped as Dylan touched her elbow, settling into the soil beside her.
“Damn,” he mumbled. “That was a nice place.”
“Who are they?” Jessie asked.
He shook his head, still holding the pistol in one hand. “No idea. Could have been someone here ratted us out. Or maybe your buddy Frank.”
She gritted her teeth, holding back the words. “Where to from here?”
He studied the black car. “We hit the streets.” He rolled his shoulders. “There’s a pair of sneakers in the bag here. Put them on. You won’t go far on bare feet.”
“Thanks.” She unzipped the bag and worked out the shoes without too much effort. “Let’s go while they’re still busy.”
They backed out from under the bushes and made their way to the front of the mobile home park, ducking from shadow to shadow.
A loud explosion split the air, startling her into his arms. Dylan smiled, holding her close.
“Guess they started poking around my truck.”
It was tempting to stay in his embrace, bask in the warmth and safety it offered. But they weren’t out of danger yet.
“I’m sorry.” She stepped away.
“It’s okay. I’ve got a reason to buy a new one now.”
Finally, sirens split the air, the fire engines leisurely rolling through the entrance and down the lane to the remains of their sanctuary.
Dylan led her out onto the street. “Look casual. Nothing to see here.” He took her hand and swung it back and forth. “Just a pair of locals wandering our way home after a long night out.”
She flinched, looking over her dirt-stained shirt and track pants.
“Tuck your hair into the back of your shirt,” he instructed.
“I’ve got a better idea.” Jessie spotted a nearby gas station on the corner, the all-night neon sign flashing their status. “Give me your knife.”
He pulled up short. “First, how do you know I have one? Second, we’re not going to rob the store.”
She smiled, enjoying the surprise in his words. “First, I doubt you’d ever leave home without one. Second, I don’t plan to rob them. I plan to use the bathroom and pump up my disguise.”
Dylan hesitated only a second before pulling a small blade from the holster strapped to his shin. “I’ll get help while you’re inside.”
“Good.” Jessie looked behind her at the red and white flashing lights. “I think we’ll need some.”
…
Dylan kicked himself for letting her call Wheeler. If the man wasn’t dirty, he’d been under surveillance by someone who was, and they’d tracked her right back to the trailer.
He smiled at the kid working the cash register at the gas station. “Busy night.” The fire engines had doubled during the short time he’d been inside the store, signaling the trailer fire had gotten out of hand.
Losing the truck sucked. Despit
e what he’d said to Jessie, he hated shopping for new trucks. The Brotherhood had spare vehicles in the garage, ready for him to use, but he’d liked that Ford.
The small explosive set near the engine wasn’t meant to go off unless someone started poking around the glove compartment, digging out the insurance papers in an effort to identify the owner. The hidden switch to disarm the bomb was under the dashboard, easily reached by the driver if needed, but whoever had started searching the truck hadn’t known that. Now all they had was a burned shell.
The plates might be saved, but they’d track back to a ghost in the DMV’s records, a dead end.
The cashier shrugged as he counted out the change and pushed the new cell phone across the slick, plastic counter. “Probably a meth lab. Trailer park’s full of crackheads.” He studied his own phone, stroking the screen as he played a game. “Have a good night.”
Dylan went to the front of the store to wait for Jessie. He picked a good spot by the door, giving him a full view of the parking lot as well as the strategically set mirrors in the corners of the store that allowed him to also watch the cashier.
Anyone could turn on them now.
He pulled the phone out of the plastic wrapper and turned it on. As soon as he picked up the carrier bars, Dylan tapped in a text, sending it to a familiar phone number.
A movement caught his attention, and he turned the phone off, turning his gaze upward. In the mirror, a woman stepped out of the washroom and walked toward him, the warped image growing in the concave reflection.
“Hey.” She stopped at his side. “How do I look?”
Dylan swore under his breath. Jessie had chopped off most of her long, blond hair, lifting it up off her shoulders. What was left she had twisted into a spiked row, held in place with a slick, pink gel.
“Bathroom liquid soap,” she offered, handing him back his knife.
“You look good.” He tossed the phone in the nearby garbage can. “Let’s get going. Trey’s going to meet us.”
Jessie fell into step behind him. “I hope you’ve got a wad of cash in your pants. If we keep buying and dumping phones every few minutes…”
He held his breath as a series of police cars sped by, headed in the general direction of the trailer park. “Let me worry about what’s in my pants.”
Her answering laugh helped soothe his anger at losing the safe house, and his concern for her safety.
…
Dylan caught Jessie as she stumbled, squeezing her hand as she leaned against him. She had to be tired, almost at the point of exhaustion. A sandwich and a shower, a bowl of soup and a nap weren’t going to undo a week’s worth of abuse.
Being chased out of their safe house didn’t help.
They’d moved off the main streets and were now making rambling circles through the side roads and alleys, every circuit bringing them closer to the meeting place. He hated doing this to her, but they couldn’t take the chance of being followed to yet another sanctuary.
He’d known retrieving her was going to be difficult. Now it’d somehow mutated into a larger, more horrible creature threatening to take them all down.
Molodavi wasn’t a fool. He had looked at the restrained guards, proof she hadn’t saved herself.
Jessie tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, her knees buckling.
“Whoa.” Dylan put her arm around his shoulders and tightened his grip on her waist. “We’re almost there. Hold on and I promise we’ll grab a burger before we head out.”
“Coffee,” she mumbled.
“And coffee, too. Just give me a bit more.”
She laughed. “Be careful what you ask for. Might not be able to handle it.” She managed a brave smile. “I’m no pushover.”
“And after I made you soup and everything.” Dylan smiled, the light teasing helping calm his nerves.
“Lisa is going to be okay, right?” Jessie asked.
He nodded, jumping on the opportunity to distract her from the walking. “Ace is watching her. He’s a good man, good at what he does. He’ll keep her safe.”
She nodded and kept walking, her hand tight in his. “And the other guy who was with you? Blue Eyes? What’s his name?”
“Finn.”
“Fin. Like the fish?”
“Finn. Two Ns. He’s heard all the fish jokes you can imagine and then some.”
“I never got a chance to thank him.” She stumbled, catching herself at the last second.
“Hey,” Dylan said. “You okay?”
With a jolt Jessie stood up straight. She shook her head, the faux Mohawk bobbing from side to side. “Sorry. Faded out for a bit there. Guess I’m not as recovered as I thought I was.” Her grip intensified on his hand. “Finn looks like a good guy.”
“He is. Dependable to the end. As they all are.” Dylan found himself struggling to find ways to describe them without giving out too many personal details. “I’d trust them all with my life. And I have.”
It wasn’t that he was afraid to tell Jessie about his brothers-in-arms.
He wasn’t sure it was his place.
Ace’s failed marriage. Finn’s devastating loss of his mother. Trey’s ongoing hunt that kept the computers humming back in the nightclub’s basement. These were secrets men kept from each other and from outsiders, until they’d earned the right to know.
Jessie was still an outsider, no matter how much he wanted to bring her in.
At least for the time being.
“I understand,” she said with a nod. “You’ve got to keep some things close to your chest.” Jessie let out a weary sigh. “If you trust them then I trust them. Good enough for me.”
Dylan almost stopped in his tracks, the confidence she’d just placed in him almost overwhelming.
His inner demon gave an angry rumble, reminding him that men like him didn’t get into relationships that lasted longer than a few days, a few weeks. When the secrets were dark and deep and waiting to come forth every time you closed your eyes, there wasn’t any room for someone else.
Dylan forced his thoughts back to the present. Whatever he wanted to have, would have, with Jessie would be resolved in due time.
He spotted the truck sitting in front of the strip mall, third parking spot from the end.
“There.” He gestured with his free hand. “Trey dropped off another truck for us. Can you make it?”
Jessie shrugged him off and staggered free. “Race you.”
He watched in wonder as she ran toward the truck, leaving him behind.
…
He kept his word.
She slouched down in the passenger seat and watched him order two mega meals with coffee at a fast food drive-through. The tittering teenager at the pick-up window didn’t even look over at her, too busy undressing Dylan with her eyes.
Not that Jessie could blame her. The man had somehow gotten more handsome while she’d napped back in the trailer, his disarming smile sending a rush of desire through her body.
This wasn’t good. She wasn’t going to pretend there wasn’t a bit of psychology at work, the natural urge to fall in love with her rescuer fueling the emotions that beat down her logic, her common sense.
But she sensed there was more to it.
Hopefully they’d both live long enough to figure it out.
Jessie bit her lip to hold back a groan of anticipation as he handed her the large paper bag and drink holder. Dylan winked at the hapless young woman trapped behind the window, finishing off the transaction.
The smell of fresh, hot coffee drifted out of the cardboard cup holder in her lap as he pulled back out onto the street.
She inhaled deeply and sighed.
“I keep my promises.” Dylan glanced in the rearview mirror, checking behind them. “You can sit up now. We should be out of town in a few minutes and you don’t need to put your back out.”
She took his advice and slid up the seat, taking a sip of coffee as soon as she could. “Where are we going?”
“We n
eed someplace to think, to plan.” He swung out and passed a tractor-trailer, speeding up as they got on the highway entrance ramp. “Mount Charleston isn’t too far. We’ll be there within the hour.”
“There where?”
“A cabin.” His hands were loose on the steering wheel. “It’s off the grid, as much as you can be these days. We can rest there while figuring out what to do next.”
She kicked off her running shoes and wriggled her aching toes. “What about the trailer?”
“What about it?”
“The press is going to be all over it.”
Dylan shook his head. “Nah. They’ll write it off as an accident, maybe a drug lab going up. They’ll wait until the police dig through it for bodies, and once none show up they’ll move on to the next news cycle.”
“Could this get any worse?” she asked. Her belly ached with a mixture of hunger and worry.
“There’s a twenty-thousand dollar reward on your head, thanks to Al’s generous employer, Eddie Molodavi. They doubled it last hour. Saw it on the news feed.”
“That’s worse,” she said.
“And that’s the official one for the media. I’ve no doubt there’s a second, higher one for those who walk on the other side of the law. There’s plenty of scum around who’d love to collect, no matter who gets in the way.” He waved at the road. “Not to mention every cop in the area is looking for you, and I’m willing to bet more than one of them has orders to not take you alive. A dead body fills in the gaps neatly, closes the case.”
Jessie swallowed hard, unable to enjoy the coffee. “I can’t believe he’d go this far—frame me and then send men out to hunt us down.”
“To silence you? Sure.” Dylan nodded. “You’ve embarrassed him on multiple levels. You got into his organization and into his office, didn’t give up who hired you, and got away.” He smiled. “With our help of course, but it’s a slap in his face. He can’t let it go unanswered and expect to maintain control of his own family, never mind saving face with the rest of the underground.”
Hard Play (Delta Force Brotherhood) Page 7