by Elle James
Her naked roommate would be hell to resist when every cell in Lana’s body screamed hallelujah.
“I’ll take first shift staying awake if you want to get under the covers and sleep,” she offered. And cover your body from head to toe to keep me from drooling like a groupie.
She didn’t add that last bit, but she thought it. Keeping her mouth shut on what was going on in her head was a real challenge, especially when Trevor emerged in the towel and nothing else.
Lana must have stared too long, because Trevor’s brows dipped. “If I make you uncomfortable, I can stay in the bathroom a little longer.”
“No.” Lana pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, am I taking first shift?”
“If you’d like. I doubt I’ll sleep, anyway. We could talk, and you could tell me why you think you’re being targeted.”
“Right.” She’d completely forgotten she hadn’t filled him on all that had happened in the past year. But then all those muscles on display made her forget her own name.
She turned her back to him and started from when she’d learned more about Mason’s death.
“He was shot in the back?” Trevor gripped her shoulder and spun her to face him. “Who told you that?”
Her wits scrambled at the clean, fresh scent of Trevor standing in front of her, inches away. Certainly, close enough she could lick him.
She reined in her thoughts. “I spoke with the doctor who declared him dead. He’d made notes about Mason’s injuries. That, plus what Mason had told me about his last mission, made me curious enough to dig a little deeper.”
“I wish you’d told me about this. I could have helped. I thought the mission was an ambush, and Connolly was collateral damage.”
“I think he was collateral damage. But I also think it was initiated from supposedly friendly forces.”
“You don’t think a member of our own team shot him in the back, do you?” Trevor shook his head. “Everyone we were with that night would have laid down his life to save Connolly, including me.”
Lana touched Trevor’s chest, eager to make him understand. A shock of awareness ripped through her and she jerked her hand back. “I believe that. But someone else knew you were out there. Someone who came in from behind. And the bullet they pulled from Mason was one of our own.”
“We supply the Afghan forces with the weapons and ammunition they need to defend themselves.”
“What about the contractors and the contracted security teams?”
“They have access to the same weapons and ammunition sales. They could have had the same ammunition that’s issued to our troops.”
“Exactly.” She explained how she’d tracked through the contractor data and followed the trail back to San Diego and the regional office of the Department of Homeland Security with the help of her guy on the dark web.
Trevor shook his head, a frown deeply etched across his forehead. “Terrorists, American traitors and the dark web? Where was I through all this?”
“You were in Montana, where you needed to be to get on with your life. This was my project to work. I wanted to know all there was to know about Mason’s death.”
“But the dark web? Terrorists? At what point did you realize you were wading into dangerous waters?”
She gave him a sheepish grimace. “Today.” Lana snorted. “Make that yesterday. It’s past midnight. Anyway, that’s when I decided to take it to the FBI. I made an appointment to meet with them today. I want to get there, hand off what I know and let them take it from here.”
“And that’s when you were attacked.” Again, Trevor shook his head. “Who else knew you were meeting with the FBI?”
“No one. I made the call on my own cell phone.”
“Were you at your office?”
“No. I had just stepped out of the building to go to lunch. I made the call while sitting in my car.”
“Are you sure no one overheard your conversation?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“Without access to your car, I can’t know whether your car was bugged. But that brings up another question. Is your phone being tracked?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“When we left your townhouse, we weren’t being followed. Ten minutes into our drive, a car appears out of nowhere and rams into the back of ours.” Trevor strode toward the bathroom. “Pack your suitcase,” he said over his shoulder.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere but here.” He entered the bathroom, whipped off the towel, grumbling as he went. “I can’t believe it took me this long to figure that out.”
“Figure out what?” Lana asked, her gaze on his naked backside, her pulse pounding as she lifted her case onto the bed.
“That either you or your phone is being tracked.” He shoved his feet into his wet jeans one at a time and tugged them on. As he worked the wet Demin up over his thighs, the muscles of his glutinous maximus flexed. “Do you have something on you that you always bring with you? A purse, a piece of jewelry, anything you carry on a regular basis besides your smart phone?”
Lana dragged her attention away from Trevor’s ass. She conducted an inventory of her person and the backpack she’d opted to bring, instead of her purse. “No. Just my cell phone.”
“Give it to me.” He flung his T-shirt over his head and slicked it down his body, the damp shirt clinging to him like a second skin. Then he held out his hand.
Lana dug her cell phone out of her backpack. “But I need that phone. I took a couple days off, but what if work calls me?”
“They’ll do fine without you for a couple of days.” He held out his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Give.”
She slapped her cell phone into his hand and set her case on the ground. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Leave this here,” he ordered and set the phone on the dresser. “Now, I’m first out of here. Wait for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, until you tell me to,” she replied.
“And stay clear of the door until I come for you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He rested his hand on the doorknob and gave a count of three. Then he ripped open the door and stepped outside.
Lana held her breath.
Trevor pulled the door closed behind him, immediately stepped to the side and crouched. Why hadn’t he thought of her cellphone being tracked before now? Hell, they could have been attacked while he’d been taking his shower.
Something hit the wooden doorframe, sending splinters flying down over him.
Fuck! He’d been shot at, and whoever was doing the shooting had a silencer, making the assailant harder to locate in the dark. With nothing but the direction of the bullet to go on, Trevor ducked behind one of the three vehicles parked in the lot. Hunkering low, he ran the length of the car and dropped to his belly. He inched forward and stared out into the night.
On the other side of the parking lot was a dilapidated chain-link fence with branches of bushes growing through the links. At one point the fence had fallen, taking a portion of the bushes with it. The position was almost directly across from the room he and Lana occupied.
Getting to that position meant crossing the parking lot, which would be the fastest route. Or he’d have to backtrack and swing toward the back of the building, jump the fence and go around behind the bushes.
Or…he had one more idea.
Backing behind the vehicle, he judged the distance between the car and the corner of the building. On the count of three, he took off running, staying low to the ground and zig-zagging to keep from being an easy target.
Bullets pinged off the pavement around him, but he kept running and dove around the corner.
Trevor rolled to his feet, dug his keys from his wet pocket and unlocked the rental car’s doors.
He got in and started the engine. Knowing they might have to make a swift escape, he’d backed into the parking space. Now, he shifted into drive and tore around the corner and straight fo
r the downed fence and gap in the bushes.
He ducked low as a barrage of bullets hit the windshield where his head had been. The front of the vehicle plowed into the broken fence and the equally damaged bush.
A dark figure rolled out of the bushes, onto his feet and ran toward a dark SUV in an abandoned parking lot on the other side of the fence.
Trevor whipped the car into reverse, backed up to the motel room where Lana waited and jumped out.
He pounded on the door. “Lana. Out. Now.”
She yanked open the door, suitcase in hand and ran with him to the car.
He opened the passenger door and took the case from her.
Lana slid into the seat.
“Stay down,” he warned and tossed the case into the back seat. Then he ran around the back of the car to the driver’s side, slid behind the wheel and drove around the other side of the building, running through low hedges and emerging in another business’s driveway.
“What are we going?” Lana asked.
“Getting the hell out of Dodge.” The rental car spun out onto the street, and Trevor slammed his foot to the floor.
“I take it we were followed.” Lana spun in her seat to stare out the back window. “I see headlights.”
“Hang on.” Trevor gritted his teeth. “I’m going to shake him.”
Once again, Trevor wove through the streets, but everything he did, the man in the SUV seemed to anticipate.
Finally, Trevor pulled into an alley, parked the car behind a huge trash bin and shut off the engine and lights.
“I’d get out, but I don’t think we have enough distance between us and our tail to risk opening the doors,” Trevor said. “We don’t want to have a light shine down, illuminating our position to our pursuer.”
Lana unbuckled her seatbelt and sat on the edge of the seat, her head swiveling back and forth. “I can’t see much past the trash bin.”
“I have a little bit of a view in the side mirror. If he’s back there, I’ll see him coming.” He rested his hand on the ignition, ready to turn on the engine should they need to make another run for it.
“Anything?” Lana whispered.
“Nothing yet.” Then a light appeared behind them, rolling past the narrow alley. “There he is.”
Lana sat back in her seat, pulled her shoulder strap over her chest and buckled her seatbelt.
“Good girl,” Trevor said.
“There you go again, talking to me like I’m a dog,” she quipped, but her voice shook slightly.
“We’ll be okay.” He followed the light as the SUV passed their little alley and moved on. “He didn’t turn this way.”
“Shouldn’t we take off and make a run for it in the opposite direction?” Lana asked.
“Not yet. He’s smart. So far, he’s anticipated a lot of my moves. Let’s wait a few more minutes until he’s farther away.”
Lana nodded, sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
A minute passed, then two. At the five-minute mark, Trevor fired up the engine and shifted into gear. Unfortunately, the car’s safety settings wouldn’t let him shift unless his foot was on the brake. The brake lights lit up, reflecting off the trash bin, illuminating the little alley.
“Time to go,” Trevor said, and he pulled forward, heading out the other end of the alley. He eased off the accelerator, refusing to use the brakes unless he absolutely had to. He left his lights off and dimmed the dashboard.
Lana craned her neck, looking all around. When they emerged onto the street, she leaned far enough to look around him. “Looks like the coast is clear.”
Trevor pulled onto the street and headed back the way they’d come. When he reached the next intersection, he was halfway through it when a dark vehicle, lights off, seemed to fly out of nowhere, coming at them from the left.
Slamming his foot to the pedal, Trevor shot the car forward. But not soon enough to avoid being hit. The other car smashed into the rear bumper of Trevor’s rental car, sending them into a three-hundred-sixty-degree spin.
The car turned around and around before Trevor could get it to move another direction. When it finally slowed, he twisted the steering wheel, hit the curb, bumped up over the sidewalk and almost rammed into a building. At the last moment, the tires gripped the concrete, and he was able to swerve and miss the corner of a brick structure.
They bumped back onto the street and ran into the other vehicle where it faced away from them.
Trevor changed into low gear and pressed the accelerator, pushing the front bumper of his car into the driver’s door of the other. Then he pushed the attacker’s vehicle toward two heavy metal and concrete poles put in place to restrict vehicles from entering a narrow alley.
The driver struggled with the door on his vehicle, appeared to try to lower the window and finally aimed a handgun at the glass.
“Duck!” Trevor yelled and bent low.
A shot was fired. The bullet blasted through the windshield, making a perfectly round hole in the glass.
Shifting into reverse, Trevor backed away, spun the steering wheel and took off, leaving the attacker and his vehicle behind.
“Is he following?” Trevor barked.
“I think his car is hung up on the barriers,” Lana said. “Looks like he’s trying to climb out the other side.”
“Stay down until we’re well out of range of his weapon.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Lana ducked below the seat, peeking out every few seconds to see if the man had managed to get his vehicle going again.
“Call 911 and have the police pick him up.” Trevor tossed her his cellphone.
Lana watched for street signs first, and then placed the call giving directions to the man who’d attacked them. When the dispatcher asked for her name, she politely declined to give it and hung up. Holding the phone in her palm, she stared ahead at the road. “What now?”
“How about ditching this vehicle? We can catch a cab to your meeting with the FBI. No one will know what vehicle we’ll arrive in until we get there.”
Lana frowned. “Are you sure we won’t put the driver in jeopardy?”
“All right.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Then we find a quiet place to park until the FBI office opens.” He glanced over at her. “How’s watching the sunrise on the beach sound to you?”
“Wonderful,” she said and leaned her head against the back of her seat. “As long as no one’s shooting at us or trying to commit vehicular manslaughter, I’m good with that.” She closed her eyes and yawned. “I’m not cut out for all this spy stuff.”
“Why don’t you sleep? I’ll find a place that’s safe.”
“I’m going to take you up on that. I have a feeling this isn’t over.”
“I know it’s not. If someone’s this interested in shutting you up, he won’t hesitate to try again.”
Lana yawned again. “Wake me up when you want to catch some Zs. I’ll try not to be too greedy about the amount of sleep I get.”
He chuckled. “I’ll be fine. Sleep, sweetheart.”
For the next forty-five minutes, he drove through the darkness, wishing he had a way to douse the automatic headlights. The car was a mess, and the bullet holes in the windshield caught the lights from oncoming vehicles, blinding him.
By the time he found a quiet stretch of beach where he could hide the car behind a rundown, abandoned shack, he was ready for some sleep, himself. But he didn’t dare nod off. The way things had been going, the people after Lana would find them before Trevor could wake up enough to help.
No, he’d gone a few days without sleep with no ill effects before, other than being at less than his top mental ability. As soon as the FBI district office opened, he’d have Lana there, handing over all the information she’d gathered. Then she’d be out of the picture. He’d convince her to come to Montana with him to wait out the storm she’d unleash.
At least there, he’d see when the enemy was coming, and he’d have half a chance to
pick him off before he got within range of Lana.
Trevor glanced over at Lana. Moonlight filtered through the shattered glass, giving him a view of her. Her head lolled to the side, and her eyelashes fanned across her cheeks in dark crescents.
She was every bit as beautiful now as she ever had been. Maybe more so. The year had aged her slightly, but she’d lost weight since Connolly’s death, and she had dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her obsession with finding those responsible for her husband’s death was both admirable and unnerving. She needed to move on with her life.
At the same time, Trevor was grateful for her perseverance. He hadn’t known a bullet from behind had killed his friend. His hands clenched into fists. Connolly had been like a brother to him. He still couldn’t believe the man was gone. All year, he’d fully expected that Connolly would knock on his door with his arms full of cases of beer, ready to settle back and watch a football game.
He’d had to remind himself daily that he couldn’t just pick up a phone and call his friend. He could only imagine what Lana had gone through after the death of her spouse. She’d barely gotten on with living. She appeared to be obsessed with finding out who was responsible for Connolly’s death and the underlying reasons for the attack.
Perhaps that was her way of handling the grief.
Trevor shrugged. Whatever helped her, he was all for it. But he was a little concerned about her fixation with the so-called evidence.
She should have handed it all over to law enforcement much sooner to avoid being caught in the crosshairs of some ruthless individuals.
Hell, they’d killed Connolly. Once blood was shed, people like that wouldn’t hesitate to do it again to keep their secrets.
Trevor couldn’t walk away from Lana now. She was in way over her head. Handing off to the FBI was the right thing to do, but Trevor feared it was a little late for Lana to extract herself from her predicament.
Passing the information to the FBI wouldn’t necessarily stop what was happening. Nor would it erase the information from her files or her head.
Until the men at the root of the problem were caught, Lana would continue to be a target.
As soon as they had their meeting with the FBI, Trevor would whisk Lana as far away from California as he could get.