Hiding Jessica

by Alicia Scott

  “Information on what?” she persisted. The feeling of foreboding was growing stronger with each waking hour. Now she had to consciously fight the desire to look over her shoulder and see if anyone was following.

  “We need to know where the leak is,” Mitch explained calmly. Familiar now with the car, he started the engine. “Look, Jess. I have enough cash and fake identities to keep us running for a long time. But we have to know who we’re running from. Can we call in to the program? Can we trust the Bureau? I don’t have these answers, and until I do, it’s hard to know when we’re actually going to be safe.”

  She nodded, the words making sense to her even as they deepened her apprehension. She risked a sideways glance at the large man beside her. His hands looked strong and capable on the wheel. She could still picture them guiding the Blazer over the thick snow, dodging trees and bullets with breakneck speed. He’d gotten them out of trouble before. He’d gotten them this far, and already had contingency plans in place.

  She relaxed slightly, easing back against the seat without realizing she was doing so. As the car sped back along the interstate, the lethargy set in. She’d only slept two hours the night before and her eyes felt scratchy and dry beneath the new contact lenses. They’d left the pack of contact lenses back at the retreat, so she’d have to make sure she took good care of these. She had how many days left before she took them out...ten, twelve? It seemed so long already since she’d first gotten them.

  Her eyes drifted shut.

  “Where are we going?” she managed to mumble, her head tilting toward him. He spared her a glance from the road, taking in her tousled hair and soft cheeks. Damn, she was beautiful. His grip tightened on the wheel, his face becoming even more serious.

  “Mitch?” she prodded again, her voice falling husky and deep from her lips as her eyes drifted closed.

  “Back to the retreat,” he admitted levelly from the wheel, though the calmness of his voice did little to minimize her reaction. Jess’s eyes suddenly popped open, her back becoming ramrod straight with the shock.

  “You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed, her senses on full, spine-tingling alert. “That’s where Les’s men are. What if they’re waiting for us?”

  “Chances are they consider us long gone from there,” he replied evenly. His voice relented a bit, and he looked away from the road long enough to give her a reassuring glance. “I have to find out how they knew about the retreat when only a select group of people had access to that knowledge. You say you didn’t give us away. Well, then, is there a leak in the Bureau? Maybe Bill or Jamie? Dan? Or did I just make some stupid mistake along the way that allowed Les to find us? We have to know.”

  Jess felt her heart thunder in her chest and she didn’t have to look down to know her hands would be shaking. Once more the foreboding hit her dead-on. How had Les known? And even now, if she glanced in the rearview mirror, would she see a dark sedan pulling in behind them? Unconsciously, she shivered.

  Mitch caught the motion, and his jaw clenched. Of course she was scared; hell, she ought to be. He’d told her that first day she would be safe at the retreat, and here they were, creeping through New Hampshire on two hours’ sleep in a damn rental car. So much for his promises.

  “Go to sleep, Jess,” he told her curtly. “We’ve still got a good hours’ drive to go, and you can use the rest. No sense in both of us becoming exhausted.”

  She nodded slowly, her gaze sweeping carefully to the side mirror. Long, empty stretches of the highway reflected back. But it didn’t ease the tightness in her chest.

  * * *

  “Wake up, Jess,” Mitch called softly. He shook her shoulder lightly, and her brown eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he could see the blind exhaustion in her gaze; then her control slowly slid into place.

  “We’re here,” she stated quietly. He nodded. She sat up straight, looking out the window at the endless snow and trees surrounding them. She looked over at him sharply, and he understood her confusion.

  “We’re a few miles back,” he explained, “basically parked behind the retreat.”

  “Why?” she quizzed intensely. “I thought you said Les’s men would be gone.”

  “It’s better to be safe than sorry, Jess.”

  She wanted to protest. If he was that uncertain, then they shouldn’t be going back at all. But she could tell by the firm set of his jaw, Mitch’s mind was made up.

  “You wait here,” he was saying now. “I’ll go scout out the place, see what I can learn.” He reached into the duffel bag, and before she could react, pulled out the Chief’s Special she’d practiced with before. “You know how to use this,” he stated matter-of-factly. “If anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate.”

  She simply stared at the gun, laying so peaceful and dull in his outstretched hand. She shook her head.

  “You keep it,” she said softly. “And I’ll stick with you.”

  “Not an option,” Mitch informed her flatly.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at him intensely. His jaw was set, his gaze clearly telling her he had no intention of yielding. It only made her more determined. If he thought she would simply wait passively in the rental car, watching the hours roll by, wondering what horrible thing may have gone wrong, he had another think coming.

  “You go, I go,” she stated clearly.

  “I’ll lock you in the trunk if I have to,” he replied.

  “I don’t think so,” she countered. At least that much about him she understood. “Look, Mitch,” she said impatiently, her brown eyes piercing, “if you were me, would you just want to sit in the car, waiting and wondering? Like you said, I know how to use the gun. If I go, I can cover your back. Two is certainly safer than one.”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t a Boy Scout trip,” he said with deadly seriousness. “This is creeping up on an area, realizing that being discovered could cost you your life. I’ve been trained for these situations—you haven’t. Besides,” he finished gruffly, “it’s not safe for you. I won’t put you in that much danger.”

  His gaze caught her own, his brown eyes so intense, her heart beat faster in her chest. He was looking out for her. He cared.

  It was only his job, she reminded herself forcefully. But somehow that didn’t stop her gaze from falling subtly to his lips. She licked her own lips nervously and had to suddenly turn away. The flutters in her stomach now had nothing to do with fear.

  Mitch watched her tongue come out, lightly flicking across her lips. His body reacted immediately with a fierceness and intensity that took his breath away. So help him God, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to drag her onto his lap and kiss her thoroughly and utterly into submission. He wanted to show her with each heart-stopping sensation just what a fool she was being, and just how much he suddenly wanted to keep her safe.

  He took a deep, shuddering breath. What was he even thinking? When had Mitch Guiness become such a rutting fool over a woman?

  His jaw clenched tighter, the effort beginning to hurt his teeth. “You’re going to stay in the car,” he said flatly. “Allow me, just this once, to actually do my job.”

  The words tore through her. She could feel each and every syllable cutting like a knife through her own stomach. It was his job, after all. Nothing more, nothing less. He took care of her because he had to. And she would take care of herself, she thought fiercely, because she had to.

  “No,” she replied coolly. And when she turned around this time, Mitch found himself confronted once more by the Ice Angel. “You have your job to do, but I’m in this mess, as well. Now you can sit here and waste precious time arguing with me, or you can realize that either way, I’m going to follow you back to that house. The choice is yours.”

  For one dark moment, she saw his fist clench with the frustration. A tiny frisson of fear quivered up her spine, but she didn’t relent. Then slowly, very slowly, Mitch let out his breath. He knew her well enough by now to acknowledge that she wouldn’t back down.
And the truth of the matter was he couldn’t afford to waste time arguing with her.

  He forced himself to relax, nodding his head in curt agreement. At least this way he could keep his eye on her, as well. And if anything did go wrong... Well, he’d be there to handle it.

  He handed her the gun, and she took it with hands that trembled only slightly. “It’s loaded,” he told her curtly, his brown eyes boring the seriousness of the situation into her own. “Please don’t be a fool and shoot us both.”

  Her back stiffened, his words chasing away the last of her fear, exactly as he’d intended them to. “Don’t worry about me,” she said frostily. “I can take care of myself.”

  He nodded, opening the car door. Oh, Jess was back full swing to being the Ice Angel. But given the situation, that’s exactly who he wanted her to be. God knows the Ice Angel could probably stare down Death itself. That might come in handy in the next few hours.

  It took them twenty-five minutes to reach the perimeter of the retreat. Sheltered by the trees, Mitch could make out the gleaming wooden roof of the two-story cabin just a hundred yards away. He gestured for Jess to keep down low and behind him. Intent now, his eyes scanned the premises.

  At first glance, the place appeared abandoned. No black sedans were in sight, and no signs of life were coming from the cabin. But then, that’s exactly how Mitch would have wanted the place to appear if he was the one waiting inside. Rather than going forward, he directed Jess to follow him around the tree-covered outskirts. From this angle, he could make out a faint gleam coming from around the back of the house. Perhaps a car roof, poorly concealed by brush. Just as he was about to angle toward it to find out, he felt Jess’s hand capture and squeeze his own.

  He ducked down in time to see a gray-suited man appear on the left. The black shape of a semiautomatic pistol rested in the man’s hand.

  So Les’s men hadn’t left the area after all. Mitch turned, and keeping half an eye on the approaching man, he indicated for Jess to fade back more into the brush. She nodded, her face tight but her eyes clear as she inched backward. Her heel caught a pinecone, emitting a faint crunch in the snowy silence. Immediately, they both froze, their eyes riveting back to the gun-toting guard.

  His eyes swiveled over to their hiding place, and it seemed to Jess they ought to stand out as clear as day. Her pulse was beating so fast, she thought her chest might explode from the pressure, and she could feel the blood drain from her face. She tensed, waiting for the sound of a gunshot, waiting for the violence to boom through the quiet afternoon.

  But then the man’s head turned back, and he once more resumed his pacing. Mitch’s hand caught and squeezed hers in silent reassurance; she thought she might faint from the relief. She left her hand lying on his own strong palm and he made no move to let it go.

  With subtle pressure, Mitch led her once more around the outside of the camp. His senses were on full alert. One man had obviously been left behind. They must have guessed Mitch would want to come back. The question now became, Were there more? Or perhaps even Bill or Jamie were with the men, sitting at the kitchen table at this very moment, laughing and drinking orange juice as they contemplated their newfound fortunes of blood money.

  At that moment, however, Mitch’s sharp eyes caught a sight that tossed the idea out the door once and for all. He turned to catch Jess before she saw it, as well, but he was too late.

  Already her eyes were fixated on the tree up ahead and slightly left. Sitting at the base were Jamie and Bill, their sightless eyes still horribly rounded with that last instant of surprise. The small holes in their forehead told the story. From all appearances, they had been ambushed when changing their watch shift.

  Jess’s face went pale, all blood draining from her face as her eyes registered the terrible shock. At that moment, Mitch wanted to kick himself for his stupidity in allowing her to come along. He should have seen this coming. He should have trusted his instinct that Jamie and Bill never would have betrayed them. And he felt the crushing weight of guilt descend upon his shoulders.

  They had been two damn fine men. The best. And no one had even had the decency to close their eyelids.

  Where the hell had it all gone wrong?

  Before him, Jess began to shake, her eyes still glued to the men that had volunteered their lives to protect her own. Hadn’t she had breakfast with Bill just the other day? Hadn’t she borrowed Jamie’s jacket just yesterday afternoon for a long walk?

  And now they were dead. And the blood was all on her hands!

  “Don’t, sweetheart,” came Mitch’s low voice. “Don’t even think like that.”

  He saw the guilt and the horror so clear on her face, felt the reflection of his own regrets in her vivid brown eyes. Softly he drew her into his arms. She did not protest.

  He could feel each shudder in her tormented frame. Feel her disintegrate in his very arms, the cool control of the Ice Angel shattering in the warm comfort of his embrace. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head, stroking her back as he absorbed every heart-wrenching shudder of her delicate frame. He eased them back behind a tree, seeking cover as he held her close.

  God, he had not wanted it to be like this. He had not wanted it to be like this at all.

  Then suddenly, before he could react, Jess was pushing herself away from his chest. He looked at her with sharp concern, seeing a sudden fierce intensity in her eyes.

  “I didn’t want this,” she gasped out, her hands curling into desperate fists on his chest. “Please believe I didn’t want this.”

  “I know,” he told her, trying to soothe her agitation. “I know. It’s not your fault, Jess. It’s not your fault.”

  But she didn’t seem to be hearing him. Instead, her eyes were ablaze with dark shadows of stark horror and pain that took his breath away.

  “I just wanted to get away from the violence,” she said desolately. “I wanted it all to end, I wanted to be free. And now...” Her tortured eyes fell to his chest, the look of despair on her face so crushing. “There’s so much blood, Mitch,” she whispered. “So much blood on a single pair of hands. And I never wanted any of it. I always hated the violence. I just wanted it to go away. To just go away.”

  He didn’t know what to tell her anymore. The stark admission tore at his own gut, until her pain knifed through him like his own. Looking at her now, seeing the torment in her face, he didn’t know how he could have ever thought she was cold. And he didn’t know how he could have ever wondered if she’d betrayed them. He drew her once more into his arms, willing her burden onto his own strong shoulders.

  But his guilt was overwhelming. He should have seen this coming. He should have kept them all safe. Somehow he should have made sure that everything turned out all right.

  And he knew that this moment would haunt him, like the death of Victor haunted him. In his job, his decisions didn’t mean whether or not some boss was happy. They didn’t mean a company made money, or even that someone kept a job. His decisions, from where to take the witness, to who should be the guards, to what type of backup plans should be made, were life-and-death decisions. And when he failed...

  When he failed, the cost was simply too damn high.

  Abruptly he felt a surge of intense anger. Someone had betrayed them. Someone had let Les know how to find them. Someone had sold them out, trading lives for cash. And if Mitch ever found that person, that person would plead for death before Mitch was done with him.

  Even if it was this woman in his arms?

  The thought came from nowhere, and he hated himself the minute it slashed like neon across his brain. He could still feel the heartbreaking trembles of her shock-filled frame. Her horror and anguish were too real to be faked. Certainly she hadn’t sold them out.

  Then again, it didn’t have to be intentional. She’d tried to leave last night. She said there was no man involved, but she’d been creeping out somewhere. He knew her too well to believe it was impulsive. Whatever she’d been trying to do
, it was according to some plan, some motive, she refused to tell him about. And perhaps in that plan, she had unwittingly tipped off Les Capruccio.

  What had she meant when she’d said, “I didn’t want this. I just wanted to get away from the violence”?

  He didn’t know. So help him God, he didn’t know.

  Suddenly, almost violently, he swore at himself. Since when did Mitch Guiness become so emotionally involved in his work? Once boiled down, decisions were remarkably clear. Fact: Someone had betrayed them and it wasn’t Jamie or Bill. Fact: Jessica Govern, a.k.a. Jessica Gavornée, a.k.a. Jess McMoran, had been sneaking away from the retreat twenty-four hours before, a clear violation of the Witness Protection Program. Fact: This same woman kept secrets, including the small matter that Jessica Govern didn’t appear in records until age sixteen.

  His instinct told him she hated the violence, and she hated Les Capruccio. But she still had a hidden agenda that could have accidentally given them away. Mitch’s frame stilled, his dark eyes becoming stark and clear. When all boiled down, he couldn’t trust this beautiful woman tucked in his arms.

  Until she trusted him and started revealing those secrets buried under the Ice Angel’s rigid control, he had to consider her a liability to them both.

  It was the only way to be safe.

  Jess felt Mitch’s hand suddenly still on her back. She felt his body stiffen, and all at once a sharp pang of loss cut through her. She didn’t question the instinct that drove her. Instead, her head raised up to find his eyes.

  And the emptiness within her was complete.

  She didn’t say anything, she simply stepped away. And by the way Mitch’s brown eyes followed her, her suspicions were confirmed. Oh, they weren’t hateful eyes, nor condemning. Instead, they were simply alert and carefully shuttered. Whatever caring she’d seen just sixty minutes before in the car was gone. Mitch had abruptly removed himself from her, effectively breaking the fragile emotional bond that might have once existed.

  It hurt more than she would have thought. Instinctively, her hand came up to her throat. She could feel it trembling. Mitch suspected her. It was the only explanation. And as her brown eyes swept unbidden to the two men dead at the base of the tree, she realized deep down inside she couldn’t blame him.