Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1)

by Alison Bliss

  “Agent Franklin and Agent Schafer from Indianapolis,” Jake said gesturing to the two men standing behind him. Then he motioned to the third man on his right. “My boss, Harvey Brockway. He’s the Director of the FBI’s Chicago Division.”

  The man wore a wrinkled navy blazer, light blue dress shirt, and a loose, slightly askew tie. His thinning gray hair was unkempt, and his bloodshot eyes drooped with bags underneath. He didn’t look like anyone’s boss. He looked like someone who’d rolled out of bed after a rough night.

  “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I only wish it was under better circumstances,” Brockway said, offering me his hand. “Let me assure you we’ll do everything in our power to keep you out of harm’s way.” I nodded, and he gestured to the table. “I brought some documentation for you, Miss Foster.”

  I looked at him with confusion. “That isn’t my name.”

  “It is now. From this point on, your name is Emily Foster. In the envelope is your new identity, complete with background information. You’ll need to memorize it all. Agent Ward will oversee your transfer to the safe house we set up. From there, three U.S. Marshals will rotate shifts. Someone will be with you at all times. I took the liberty of having some of your personal items from your apartment sent ahead, but if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you,” I said, thinking Jake could learn a lesson from this man. The consideration Brockway showed in the last five minutes was more than I got from Jake all night long.

  After Brockway left, Jake gave the agents their instructions and told them to get moving. Agent Franklin opened the door, looked around, and then walked out. Rawlings followed him closely, keeping her head down timidly as if she were a scared witness. Schafer fell in line behind her.

  Jake watched through the peephole, making sure they were gone. “Okay, it’s our turn, Emily.”

  Whoa! Emily? That would take some getting used to.

  “I’m not going to walk beside you this time,” he explained. “Don’t act nervous or jittery. You’re supposed to be another agent. Stay calm and get in the front seat. Got it, Emily?”

  Jeez. I haven’t had the name fifteen minutes, and I’m already sick of hearing it. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Let’s go.”

  I walked out casually, sauntering over to the Yukon, and slid into the front passenger seat. I tried to convey confidence and coolness, but I was sweating like a preacher in a whorehouse. As soon as Jake drove us out of the parking area, I blasted the air conditioner and turned the vents toward myself. It wasn’t a good idea. I love silk shirts, but you can’t hide hard nipples under thin material. I thought maybe Jake wouldn’t notice, but of course, he did. After all, he’s a man.

  His lingering gaze gave me a slight rush. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, grinning. “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?” It wasn’t like my nipples were going to sprout tassels and dance for him.

  “The nervous breakdown you haven’t had yet.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You’ve had some rather calm responses to what most people would deem disturbing situations. I thought you’d be crying by now.”

  I put on a brave face, not wanting him to know how scared I really was. “I’m more of a screamer. But if you want to cry, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

  “Jesus. Always a smartass,” he said, focusing his attention back to the road. “Get some rest. We’ll be on the road for another couple of hours before we get to the airport.”

  “Airport?”

  “A private jet is waiting to take us to a safe, undisclosed location.”

  “Which is where?”

  “You do know what undisclosed means, right?”

  “You’re not going to tell even me?”

  “Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. “You still have phone calls you need to make to your family. I have a secure line you can—”

  “No.”

  His eyes widened. “You can’t call them later. It’s now or never.”

  “Fine,” I said with a shrug. “Never.”

  He stared at me strangely, not understanding my refusal. “You might want to reconsider and call them. You won’t be able to attend family reunions or even their funerals if someone dies. You need to say good-bye—”

  “I don’t…have anybody to call.”

  He was taken aback by my response, his brows lifting in questioning slants.

  “I buried both of my parents when I was fourteen and don’t have any siblings. I’m alone.”

  “Who did you live with when your parents died?”

  “Foster homes. Lots of them. Nobody wants a smart-mouth teenager. I figured that out quick.”

  “Any other relatives?” he asked.

  “No. Probably some distant cousins somewhere who I don’t know, but no one who would know I’m missing, except Gina and Dale. They’re the closest thing I have to family.”

  “Your friends from the club? Why don’t you call them?”

  I kept my eyes on the window, watching the trees blur past. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t—no, I won’t—say good-bye to anyone else I care about. I’ve already done it too many times.”

  “Look, it’s your last chance to contact someone from your former life. It doesn’t matter who—family, friends, an old boss, or even an old boyfriend. You won’t be allowed to do it later.”

  I shook my head and, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. He kept looking at me as if I were going to change my mind. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Then you’re officially in federal custody.”

  “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

  Jake smirked. “Omaha, Nebraska.”

  “What happens when we get there?”

  “There are some rules you’ll have to follow.”

  “Wait. You didn’t say anything about any rules. I hate rules. Too damn restrictive.”

  Jake rolled his eyes at me. “Heaven forbid the feds have rules that could save your life.”

  “Too many rules in life already,” I argued. “Wear sunscreen, buckle your seatbelt, practice safe sex. Nothing good ever came from following rules. Okay, well, except for maybe the ‘practice safe sex’ one.”

  Jake smiled. “It’s simple. You’ll lay low at the safe house under a new identity until we need you to testify. No outside contact of any kind.”

  “And what if my cover is blown?”

  “You’re the only one who’ll blow your cover. Don’t ever tell anyone your real name. It would be like voluntarily ejecting yourself from the program and would most likely get you killed. You are Emily Foster. Remember that, because one slipup can change everything.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Refrain from doing things you’ve done in the past. Change your routine…in fact, don’t even build one. It’ll keep you alive longer.”

  “You say that like you don’t expect me to live.”

  “Some haven’t,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  “What happened to the other three witnesses?”

  “Not sure. It’s possible they did something to endanger themselves, like using their real identities.”

  “No, I mean…how’d they die?”

  He shook his head, and his jaw tightened. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Okay, then you don’t need to know.”

  “Come on, Jake! It’s my life we’re talking about. I have a right to know what happened to them.”

  Jake stared at me for a full minute before he spoke. “One woman was beaten to death with a hammer, one was shot in the head seven times, and the man’s body was decapitated and dismembered…all five of his limbs.”

  “Five? But there’s…oh, never mind.” Jesus. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Their bodies were all dumped in cornfields a few days after they disappeared.”

  “Eww,”
I said, cringing. “I’m never eating corn again.”

  …

  We were landing just after sunrise when I remembered why I’d always hated flying. The plane was sure to crash on landing. I gripped the armrest tightly, turning my knuckles white, and closed my eyes. A warm hand touched mine and squeezed my fingertips. I cracked an eyelid.

  Jake gave me a half-smile. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

  Then I felt the jarring bump of the landing and said a silent thank you to the pilot, God, and my digestive system. The plane slowed and taxied down the runway. More relaxed, I opened both eyes. By the time the jet stopped on the tarmac, I was breathing normally. I followed Jake through the exit door of the plane, stopping to blink and adjust my eyes to the bright morning sun.

  A black Suburban waited for us, along with two male agents, both wearing dark blue suits and aviator sunglasses. Like that wasn’t a dead giveaway. Jake stepped out before me, shielding my body with his, while visually searching the immediate area with caution.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Just staying alert,” Jake answered. “Quit worrying.”

  Easy for him to say. Hard to remain calm when he scrutinized my every move, as if I’d be executed any minute.

  The driver opened the back passenger door for us. “I’m Special Agent Riggs and this is my partner, Agent Murphy.”

  “I’m Agent Ward and this is Emily.” There’s that name again. Jake gave the agent a quick handshake while steadily shoving me into the backseat. He didn’t bother walking around to get in on the other side. Instead, he pushed me toward the middle and slid in next to me, sitting close enough that our legs touched.

  Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a driveway with a two-car garage attached to a large house, and entered through the front door. I expected old and dilapidated. What I got was far from it. Well hidden on the back side of a lake, the three-bedroom, two-bath home had a stone fireplace, jetted tubs, hardwood floors, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. It was like my own private spa.

  Jake was more impressed with the split entryway and walk out basement, explaining how it gave me a choice of exits if anything went wrong. Probably the reason they chose it. The pool table in the basement must’ve been a bonus for the unfortunate souls stuck guarding me for any length of time.

  “We’ve already swept the house for bugs,” one of the agents told Jake.

  “Good,” I said. “I hate bugs.”

  Both agents glanced at Jake, not knowing if they were supposed to take me seriously.

  “She has a wisecrack for everything,” Jake told them. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Agent Riggs shook his head. “We’re the security detail for the transfer, not babysitters. They won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

  “What?” Jake yelled. “Three U.S. Marshals were supposed to be guarding her upon arrival. Who authorized the twenty-four hour delay?”

  “Director Harvey Brockway from Chicago. He asked us to inform you of the change once you arrived, since four marshals from the Nebraska district were caught in an explosion during the night. They’re down some manpower and adjustments had to be made. Director Brockway said to tell you he cleared your schedule for the next few days.”

  “Brockway, huh? I’m surprised he didn’t call me himself.”

  Riggs shrugged. “You two are on your own, at least for tonight.”

  Damn. They were leaving us alone overnight. Probably not a good thing. Maybe I could avoid Jake and keep from talking to him. Yeah, right. Like I could go twenty-four hours without talking. Hell, no woman could do that.

  Riggs smiled, reading the sheer panic on my face, before he continued. “The fridge is stocked, and there are clothes for each of you in your rooms. Brockway sent them. Explorer in the garage has a full tank of gas and is equipped with a tracking device in the GPS. Keys are on the counter, along with the code for the security system to the house.”

  As soon as the agents left, Jake locked the door behind them and activated the alarm. I went upstairs to the master bedroom to look for my clothes and the nearest bathroom. Jake followed me, then stood leaning against the bedroom wall. He watched as I dug through the dresser drawers and found a pair of bikini underwear, a white tank top, and a pair of green striped pajama bottoms.

  I headed for the bathroom.

  “Don’t lock the door in case I need to get to you fast,” Jake said.

  “But I’ll be naked.”

  He paused. “So let me get this straight. If the bad guys storm the castle, you’d rather be dead than for me to see you naked?” He glared at me with a controlled intensity that forced me to look away.

  “Fine. I’ll leave the door unlocked. But you better hope no one storms the castle while I’m in there.”

  I had planned to soak in the tub for a while, but after what Jake said, I opted to take a quick bath instead. He stood in the same position when I came back out, except some clothes had materialized under his arm.

  As soon as I stepped clear of the bathroom, he walked in and turned the water on. I sat on the king-size bed across from the bathroom, thinking he’d shut the door. But I was wrong.

  He removed his shirt, baring his nicely chiseled abs and well-defined pectoral muscles. A sexy treasure trail of hair led into his pants, and I salivated as I thought about following it. He was all hard muscles and tanned, firm skin. I had the sudden urge to run my fingers up his back and my tongue down his front.

  He removed his pants, then pulled off his boxer briefs as I watched in anticipation. Please, no ass hair. Please. Aha! There is a God. I started to smile, but glanced up from his rear to see him looking back at me in the mirror. Oops.

  “Might want to shut the door,” I told him. “Especially if you’re going to use my bathroom.”

  “Sorry, but without someone else here to keep an eye on you, we’ll have to make do. If you don’t want to look, then turn your head.”

  If I don’t want to look? Was he fucking crazy? Of course, I wanted to look. That was the problem.

  To spare my sanity, I averted my eyes. But it chewed my insides raw with frustration. As soon as Jake stepped into the tub, I thunked the back of my head against the headboard several times.

  “What’s that noise?” Jake yelled over the sound of the water.

  Jesus. I couldn’t even bang my head on something without having to answer to him. “It was me. Sorry.”

  Moments later, Jake turned the water off. I could hear him in the bathroom shuffling around, but didn’t look. His glorious, naked body was a twist of the neck away, and I refused myself the view. It was cruel and unusual punishment.

  Just so I wasn’t tempted, I stepped over to the bedroom window and peered out at the backyard, watching a small bird flitter from tree to tree in the late morning sun. I didn’t hear Jake approach me from behind, when he grasped my arm, startling me.

  “Stay away from the windows,” he said, moving me toward the bed. “It’s the last place you want to be standing if someone shoots at the house.”

  Gee, thanks a lot. Like I needed that neurosis for the rest of my life.

  I sat on the bed, but he stayed standing. His hair was damp, which made it look a darker shade of brown than it actually was. He was more relaxed and comfortable now that he put on a pair of Levi’s and a T-shirt. It was strange, though. I didn’t picture him as a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. It looked good on him.

  “I’m surprised you aren’t wearing pajamas,” I told him. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “I don’t sleep in pajamas.”

  “You sleep in jeans? That’s weird.”

  Jake gave me one of his incredible smiles, showing his gleaming white teeth. “I don’t usually have anything on me in bed…unless it’s a woman.”

  I struggled to maintain my composure, but practically melted into the mattress. I smiled back, though I think mine came off more like an Elvis impersonation. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Seconds later, I an
swered my own question.

  My mind did a mental rewind of the evening and paused on the memory of Jake kissing me in the club—not once, but twice—and my nipples tightened. Okay, I was obviously attracted to him. But he was a jerk, right? Before I knew he was an agent, I’d toggled between wanting to kiss him or slap him. So far, kissing had won out.

  “We should probably talk about what happened between us last night,” Jake proposed, sitting next to me on the bed.

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to apologize for anything or tell me it was a mistake. It was his job…I knew that. But hearing him say his memories of our kiss weren’t as fond as mine would be damaging to my mental well-being. I didn’t want to rehash the evening with him because then I’d have to wallow in self-pity, something I refused to do with an audience.

  Jake sat quietly, waiting for me to speak. His eyes met mine, and the swell of inner emotions restricted the blood flow to my brain. The intense way he focused on me made my mind and body feel out of alignment. I liked him. A lot. There’s just something hot about a guy who’s willing to take a bullet for you.

  I tried to conquer the voice in my head, but it was no use. God, I was falling for him. Again.

  After a dizzying deliberation, my brain went on hiatus, and I made a ballsy move. I grabbed Jake and kissed him. It was eager, aggressive, impulsive…and not returned.

  Jake grabbed my arms firmly and pushed me away. His eyes trained on me as he gave me a pensive look and tightened his jaw. Jake’s lips pursed as he breathed out through his nose, his eyebrows gathering over the bridge. Yep, definitely mad.

  I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. I felt rejected, not to mention embarrassed. Was I so self-deluded that I hadn’t realized the little effect I actually had on him? Okay, he could’ve faked the kiss in the club. But there was no mistaking the giant beanstalk in his pants.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I said, though I didn’t feel particularly guilty. “I just thought…”

  Without warning, Jake stood and crossed the room, putting distance between us. I didn’t dare look at him with my heated cheeks. They were probably as red as I was stupid. Instead, I plopped back, pulled a blanket over my head, and tried to smother myself.