Connor led her past a nice display of imported vehicles, each parked in a spot labeled with a lofty title indicating just who each car belonged to, and letting her know how well the firm’s management must be paid.
The taillights of a midnight-blue two-door with windows so dark no one would ever see who was on the other side flashed. After popping the trunk, he dropped two of his bags inside and then added hers before slamming it. She couldn’t help but notice the bag he kept with him was the same one he’d referred to as a tactical go-bag when she’d asked him about it last night. She hadn’t asked for a full inventory. Still, she knew whatever items he kept in the bag were ones she’d never thought would be part of her daily life.
He put the last bag in the back, within arm’s reach, and started the car.
She didn’t bother to ask where they were headed. One, it didn’t matter, and two, she doubted he’d tell her anyway.
She remained quiet as he drove through the garage, down a narrow two-way tunnel to a security gate. He punched in a code and the gates moved aside, allowing them to exit onto a street behind the firm. At the moment, except for them, there wasn’t a soul around. Maybe they would make it out of the city without being detected.
“We’ve got a possible location on Kassidy,” Connor shared, breaking the silence.
She suspected neither the FBI nor any one of the other government agencies involved had obtained the location. Going through the proper channels to get information from companies, regardless of the type, took time. Even considering the urgency of the situation, enough time hadn’t passed since she told Connor about the text messages and call from Kassidy. If Kassidy’s location was known, a tech-savvy individual, most likely one from the firm’s cyber division, had hacked into whatever company controlled the apps her stepsister used.
“Where is she?”
“Sorry, I can’t share anything else.”
Was he joking? “Seriously, Connor, where does the firm think she is?”
“If I could tell you, I would. Right now all I’m allowed to share is that we have a possible location and that HRT, along with agents from the FBI and Air Force OSI, are looking into it.”
He’s only the messenger. Her mental reminder didn’t alleviate her annoyance. “Who the hell am I going to tell? I’m going to be stuck in some stupid safe house, probably in the middle of nowhere. Is your boss afraid I’ll tell a chipmunk or maybe a bunny rabbit?” Crossing her arms, she glared out the window. “When they find her, will they let me know?” Would they keep her in the dark about that too?
Connor took the Interstate 495 West exit and merged with traffic. Unlike the last time they’d been in a car together, Becca didn’t feel the need to close her eyes and pray.
“Ax will contact me when they have Kassidy.”
Chapter Eighteen
A horrible cramp in her neck forced Becca to open her eyes, and she adjusted her position in the seat. Since falling asleep, a light rain had started up, but the dark clouds off in the distance threatened a more powerful storm later tonight. Rubbing her neck, she studied the view. The last she remembered, they’d been on the highway heading west. They were no longer on a highway, and she didn’t recognize anything around them.
“Have a nice nap?” Connor asked.
Except for the cramp in her neck, she couldn’t complain because this had been the first sleep she’d had in days where a faceless person hadn’t grabbed her. “Not bad. Where are we?” Regardless of their current location, she hoped they were almost to their destination because she was in desperate need of a bathroom break. “And will we be stopping soon?”
“We just crossed into Chester Gap.”
They could be halfway to Florida for all she knew. She’d never heard of any town or city by that name. “I’m guessing we’re still somewhere in Virginia.”
He nodded and turned up the speed of the windshield wipers as the drizzle turned into a sudden downpour. “Not far from Shenandoah National Park.”
She still wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly where they were on a map, but she did know they were far west of D.C. and Alexandria. Since she wouldn’t need to get them home when this was over, his answer was sufficient.
“We’ll be at the cabin in less than five minutes.”
Cabin. The word brought up images of her one and only trip to summer camp. As a counselor in training, she’d shared a tiny log cabin with a wood plank floor and rustic bunks with four other girls. He promised running water.
When he turned down a dirt road, she began to wonder if perhaps he’d lied about having water and electricity. A modest two-story structure that slightly resembled the cabins featured in every historical movie depicting rural frontier life in the nineteenth century came into view. The only major differences between those homes and this one were the wires leading into the house and the swing hanging inside the screened-in porch on the left side of the building.
“When you said cabin, you really meant cabin.” Please let the inside be more up to date.
“You won’t have internet or cable, but you’ll have everything else you do at home. More importantly, you’ll be safe.”
Becca accepted she’d be safe out here, especially with Connor. As for the rest, she’d reserve judgment until they got inside.
He’d lied. The cabin didn’t have everything Becca had at home. She had an excellent central air-conditioning system, something he wished like hell the cabin had tonight. He’d changed into a sleeveless T-shirt, but even with the lousy A/C system installed in the home on, and all the ceiling fans going, he was dying. If they’d been anywhere else, he would’ve changed into a pair of light running shorts instead of his jeans. Unfortunately, running shorts would make keeping his Glock on his waist impossible. But Connor would gladly suffer a few nights of discomfort if it meant keeping Becca safe. Except for inside the firm, he couldn’t think of anyplace safer than this.
On the television, the movie’s hero drove down a one-way street in the wrong direction before catching up to the villain again and chasing him through the crowded city streets of Paris. Since he’d seen the movie, he already knew how it ended. Rather than keeping his attention focused on the screen, he kept it on Becca.
She’d changed too. Instead of wearing the expensive tailored suit from earlier, she had on a slightly too-tight tank top, not that he was complaining, and jean shorts. Later he planned to get her out of both. First, he’d give her a chance to decompress. She’d had a hell of a week, the kind that would’ve sent most women—hell, most men—into a crying fit.
No doubt about it, she’d experienced fear and worry. But she had a backbone. Despite the crap going on around her, she’d kept her head. He didn’t know any other woman except Mad Dog who could’ve handled the week the way Becca had. And that only strengthened his desire to be with her.
In high school, she’d been more to him than just another girl to screw. She was that again and then some. He hadn’t rekindled their acquaintance expecting much more than a few months of fun. Somehow, in the short time they’d been together, she’d worked her way into his affections. Where they’d ultimately end up, he had no damn clue, but for the first time in his adult life, he wanted to find out if she was the one.
“Something wrong? You’re not watching the movie,” Becca said, catching him looking at her instead of the television. “If you don’t like it, we can put on a different one.”
The cabin had no cable, but it did have a huge collection of movies. None of them held any interest for him. “Just thinking.” He realized his colossal mistake after he spoke the words.
Becca muted the volume, confirming he should’ve given a different answer or kept his mouth shut. “About?”
He could lie. Tell her he was running security measures through his head or thinking about what they should have for dinner. The fridge in the kitchen contained only cans of soda and bottled water, but the cabinets were filled with foods that had long shelf lives, such as pasta and tuna fish. If th
ey didn’t want to cook, the pantry closet held enough MREs to keep them fed for weeks.
But Connor hadn’t lied to her once and starting now wasn’t part of his plan.
“You.”
“Do I want to know exactly what about me you’re thinking about?” she asked with a combination of worry and suspicion.
Before her imagination took off and she concocted what she thought was on his mind, he pulled her onto his lap. “You’ve impressed the hell out of me the past few days. If my sister was going through the shit you are, she’d be a crying disaster. I haven’t seen you lose it once.”
Becca slid her fingers over his shoulder and up his neck before tracing the outermost part of his ear. “Breaking down wouldn’t do me any good right now. I’ll save it for after.” She moved her hand and her fingers slipped down his neck instead. “Having you around has helped keep me from going crazy too.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She looked away, but her expression before she did told him enough. She had something on her mind but didn’t want to ask the question. Usually a person did that because they were afraid they weren’t going to like the answer.
“Your boss wouldn’t like it if you did. He’d have to send Ryan out here,” she offered in lieu of a question. But it didn’t matter. Her statement filled him in on her true thoughts. He thought he’d cleared up her doubts about this thing between them. Either he’d failed, or the stress from the day was silently screwing with all her emotions.
“Ryan wouldn’t complain, but I’d have to kill him if he did anything besides sit around and guard you,” Connor answered. “I don’t let anyone, not even a close friend, mess with anything important to me.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered by that statement or not.”
“Bad choice of words. But you get the idea, right?”
She moved her face closer to his ear. “I think so, but maybe we can go upstairs and you can demonstrate. I’m more of a hands-on learner.”
***
Connor stared up at the ceiling. Moonlight from outside provided enough illumination for him to see the blades of the ceiling fan spinning and providing them with some additional relief from the heat because, even with the air conditioning cranked up, the temperature hovered around seventy-five degrees. Next to him, Becca slept—at least he assumed she slept—with her head his shoulder and one hand on his naked torso. The heat seeping from her body to his was only adding to his physical discomfort and making him sweat more. But he couldn’t move away. He enjoyed having her close too much. However, he did wish she were this close while they slept in a room with well-functioning air-conditioning.
He kicked off the sheet covering his feet and focused on the raindrops pelting the windows and skylight, the sound almost hypnotic in the otherwise silent room.
The hand on his stomach slipped away as Becca turned onto her other side, and he heard her mutter Kassidy’s name. He’d learned the first night she slept at his house that Becca often talked in her sleep. Sometimes he couldn’t make out the words, but other times it was as clear as if she’d been wide awake.
Since Kassidy’s activities were the reason Becca was in hiding, he wasn’t surprised she was dreaming about the bitch tonight.
Damn, he hoped the team found her and dragged her ass back to Virginia. The geniuses in cyber had hacked the app she’d used to call Becca, once again proving they could do things few people could. There was no guarantee she’d be there, soaking up the Caribbean sunshine, but it was a lead. And by now, Spike and the other team members assigned to finding her were on Saint Croix. Once they got Kassidy back, she’d be able to tell them who was after Becca so they could take them out of play too.
Part of him wished he was on the team going in. Considering what Becca had been through, he couldn’t think of anything he’d enjoy more than seeing Kassidy carted back to Virginia in handcuffs. Asking to go along on the mission hadn’t been an option, though. Becca needed him, and while he trusted everyone he worked with, it’d be a cold day in hell before he left her safety to anyone else.
Connor sat up. With Becca no longer using him as a pillow, he could make a trip downstairs for water. Becca rolled over in bed again and sat up before his feet touched the floor.
“Is something wrong?” He glanced back over, expecting her to tell him she’d had another nightmare.
Brushing the hair off her forehead, she crossed her legs in front of her. “Just can’t sleep. I’m going to go downstairs and get a snack. Do want you anything?”
“I’ll come with you. I’m a little hungry too.” They might be in a secure location, but he’d rather she not leave his field of vision unless absolutely necessary. Standing, he grabbed his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. Usually at night, he removed his gun and the extra magazines from his belt. Tonight he’d intentionally left them in place; while the likelihood he’d need a weapon while they got a snack was almost nonexistent, he wasn’t taking any chances.
The skylights in the hall provided enough illumination for them to walk downstairs without turning on any lights. When they reached the living room, they switched on the overhead ceiling fan and light before entering the kitchen and doing the same in there.
Becca went straight for the kitchen closet while he grabbed two bottles of water. “Anything specific you feel like?”
After handing one to Becca, he twisted off the cap on his and chugged down half the bottle. “What are our options?”
“Lots of microwave popcorn. Mixed nuts, a couple types of cookies, and some cheese-flavored crackers.”
Sounded a bit like what he kept in his kitchen at home. “You pick. I don’t care as long as it’s edible.”
Finished with the first bottle, he got a second one from the fridge. Before opening it, he pressed the cool plastic against the back of his neck. “When we get back, I need to tell Ax the A/C in this place needs to be fixed. Last time I was here it worked fine.”
She put the mixed nuts on the table before carrying the popcorn to the microwave. “It could be worse. We could be stuck in here with no heat while the temps outside dipped below zero.” Becca tossed the bag into the microwave and hit Start. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be uncomfortably warm than freezing cold.”
On this he disagreed. If they were cold, there was something he could do about it. The cabin had a huge fireplace in the living room and cords of wood stacked outside.
Over the sound of kernels popping, the rattle of rain hitting the windows increased, a clear indication the storm outside had intensified. A moment later, a flash of lightning streaked through the sky, followed soon after by a clap of thunder. Becca jumped, causing some of the nuts in the container she held to spill onto the table.
“Don’t say it. I know it was only thunder. It just took me by surprise.”
“Wasn’t going to say a thing.” He snagged a few of the nuts from the table. “I wasn’t expecting it to storm like this tonight, either.”
When the microwave dinged, they carried their late-night snack into the living room and switched on the television.
He flipped through the collection of DVDs, since, with no cable or internet in the house, if they wanted to watch anything, it had to be a movie. “It can storm all night, but I hope the power doesn’t go out.” It was uncomfortable enough in here with the little bit of cool air the system was pumping out and the fan going. If the power went out, it’d turn into a complete sauna.
Becca nudged him and laughed. “Afraid of the dark, tough guy?”
Connor parted his lips, prepared to answer.
Boom. The sound echoed through the room. He didn’t need to hear it again to know it wasn’t thunder.
Coming to his feet, he grabbed his gun and pulled Becca up.
Their car wasn’t far from the front door, but he had no idea what might be waiting for them outside if they left the house. The bedroom was the best option, especially since he had no idea how many were coming in. While
they might not be able to escape from the room, he’d have an unobstructed view of anyone who came down the hallway and tried to enter.
“Upstairs. Now.” He ran, half-pulling Becca behind him.
The punk crossed into the living room as they reached the stairs. Lining up the gun’s sights on the dude’s chest, Connor pulled the trigger. The jerk dropped to the floor.
When they reached the top of the stairs, he pushed Becca in front of him. “Run!” he shouted, even though he knew it wasn’t necessary.
Behind them the steps creaked, the sound confirming the punk on the floor downstairs had at least one friend with him.
Shit.
Slamming the door closed, he turned the lock. It wouldn’t stop anyone, but it would buy him a few more seconds. In situations like this, every second counted.
Connor tossed her his cell phone. “Call 911.” He trained his gun on the door. “Get in the closet and sit on the floor.” While the closet’s wooden door wouldn’t stop a stray bullet, if she were inside, the asshole coming up the stairs wouldn’t see her the second he entered the room, making it impossible for him to fire at her.
Fear rolled off her in waves, and it killed him that he couldn’t comfort her.
She didn’t hesitate to dash into the closet.
Please stay there. He didn’t think she’d come out, but when people got scared, they didn’t always act rationally.
Shotgun fire ripped through the silence moments before the bedroom door swung open.
A figure filled the entranceway as a clap of thunder momentarily filled the room. Connor aimed at the asshole’s chest and squeezed the trigger.
The jerk staggered back before slumping to the floor.
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