Trusting Love

by Billi Jean

  “It’s okay. While we sneaked out, he was in the barn no doubt. The good news is I don’t know the guy.”

  “Why is that good news?” she asked with a cute frown marring her brow.

  “Because it won’t matter that I kill him,” he told her using his thumb to rub her forehead clear of her worry.

  She blinked and took his hand in hers. “They want your flash drive? And it has something to do with the drugs that make you volatile and ill?”

  He nodded, impressed by her all over again.

  She shrugged and turned to narrow her eyes at the guy. “The gun shoots high, don’t forget.”

  “Darling, I’m not killing him now, but if I need to, I want you to understand why.”

  “I do,” she said quickly then exhaled with a long-suffering look directed at him. “Robert, don’t you think I’d know you had a reason to take another person’s life?” she whispered fiercely. “I know you much better than you think.”

  “No, you know what I’ve shown you, nothing more.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him this time and hissed with a frustrated curse word in Spanish under her breath. “That’s not true. I pay attention. I know you,” she said angrily. “Now, either get me out of the cold and into the Jeep, or shoot the man, for all I care. But don’t tell me I don’t know you. I know you better than I think you know yourself, Robert McNeil.”

  She jerked her arm out of his grip and eyed him like she was looking for some excuse to lay into him again. If he could, he would have kissed her. Instead, he turned to the man at the barn and spotted him moving off towards the house. That was all he needed. They needed.

  “Come on, we’ll argue in the Jeep.”

  “I don’t argue,” she sniffed. “If someone needs me to tell them the obvious, I tell them.”

  Robert snorted at that but he’d not got to his age without knowing when to keep his mouth shut. She followed him quietly. Rowdy was silent at their heels as if the dog knew they had to be careful.

  They reached the side of the barn, and he stopped to examine the snow. He didn’t see another set of tracks, but they could have someone up in a tree, or on the slight rise behind her cabin. He crossed his finger over his lips for silence and motioned for her to follow him. The horses were quiet now. From their stall, he heard the kittens rustling around, but no other sounds.

  The barn had a large set of back doors just like the front but he’d never opened them and had assumed they didn’t open because they were ancient. They were also located up against a tree line and now had over six feet of snow outside of them. The back doors were an obvious no go. That left the front. He’d have to start the Jeep, get them out and try to make certain the man in the house didn’t shoot them, the tyres, or have another man down the road ready to do the same.

  He’d do better to let Kris drive off, he decided. She’d be safer if he hung back and took care of this by himself. No one would shoot her, but they might take her into custody.

  Just thinking the words in his head shot that idea out of the water.

  “Get in the Jeep, we have very little time.”

  She nodded and raced to the passenger side and opened the door without being told he’d drive. The woman was too smart. He got in and watched her shut her door as soon as Rowdy had bounded in. The dog settled in the back seat with a whine.

  “Shhh, Rowdy,” Kristen whispered. The dog lay down on the seat, his head facing them and his paws over the edge, clearly unhappy but obeying her.

  “Good, now here, take this and shoot anything that shoots at you,” he told her.

  “I don’t know about that, but I can scare them,” she said, taking the gun and rolling her window down.

  “Just wait until we need it, but make a lot of noise and they’ll never know,” he said. “Does this thing work?”

  “Of course it does!”

  She sounded so offended he cut off praying that it would start the first time, and turned the key. It started with a roar of the engine that made him wince.

  “Well, it’s a bit loud,” she whispered.

  He rammed it into gear, blessing Kristen for having backed it into the barn, and floored it.

  They narrowly missed the snow pile they’d made along the packed in area around the front of the barn. They tore up the snow and they hit the side of the high rise along the drive Sam had left. With a rapid fight with the Jeep he won the thing back on track right when the man inside the cabin raced onto the porch, gun up but not firing.

  A second later Robert knew why.

  Two SUVs faced him at the end of the driveway. Both big vehicles were parked so they were blocking the way, with only an impossibly small gap between them. But the dumbasses had also angled them pointing downhill like a half-open gate.

  “Hold on,” he advised Kristen. “Seatbelt, too.” He shifted gears and hit the floor with the gas pedal.

  “Oh God, if you wreck my Jeep—” Kristen’s threat was cut off because she curled her arms over her head and braced a boot on the glovebox as they impacted. He strong-armed her in place, twisted the wheel one-handed and ploughed through the road block with a horrible sound of metal on metal, but they made it through.

  “Shoot those tyres, Kris.”

  She uncurled, looked at him, behind them, then turned in her seat and aimed the shotgun out of the window. She shot off two rounds. Men dived for cover behind them—none of them were members of any team he’d ever served on, he noted. Until out of the side of his vision, Walters raced around the back of an SUV and into sight. Walters raised his gun and Robert tugged her back inside just as a gunshot cracked the back windshield.

  “That man shot at me!” she told him then nearly scared the piss out of him by leaning out of the window and shooting back the way they had come.

  “Kris!”

  She ignored his call and leaned her entire upper body outside, scaring him so badly he almost lost control. He hauled her back by her jeans. She must have bumped her head on the door frame because she grabbed her head with one hand and glared at him but at least she sat down.

  “Ouch! That hurt. What— Robert!” She scooted back in her seat and screamed right when he faced the front again and narrowly missed driving off the road. He fought the Jeep back on the snowy road and heard the sound of vehicles catching up behind them.

  “Oh, God you need to watch the road!” Kris yelled.

  “Don’t lean out like that—”

  “You’re being unreasonable. I’m a good shot. I can hit their tyres. Trust me,” she tacked on with a small frown as if he was being impossible when he glanced at her. She motioned for him to pay attention to where he was driving again. He switched his focus back front and centre. The woman was insane. She wanted to lean out into the wind while he swerved to avoid being shot at and he was unreasonable?

  “Now, let me do this. I’m a good shot. Okay?” she said.

  He took a chance and looked at her again long enough to see she was seriously asking him if she could lean out of the window and shoot at the men chasing them.

  “Robert!”

  He fixed his eyes back on the road and glanced in the rear-view window. “Okay, but I hold onto your damn jeans and if they fire back you’re inside.” They slid on black ice but he managed to handle it, and get them down the next turn before the SUVs came into sight again.

  “I want both your hands on that wheel. If you drop me on my head, I’m not going to like it,” she muttered while she grabbed a blue and grey stocking cap from the back seat and shoved it on. She looked so damn adorable his heart hurt, but he couldn’t find an argument that was logical enough to stop her from leaning out of the window.

  “So, agreed? No more grabs and hands on wheel.”

  “As long as they don’t fire back, but those men are professionals, Kris. I’m not chancing you over that.”

  She took that in good enough and finally ceded his point with a little nod. “Okay, deal. But don’t break my head pulling me back in. It’s still r
inging from you banging it on the window in your panic.”

  “What?” he demanded, swerving from looking over at her too quickly. “Then you can’t—”

  “Kidding, kidding. Man, you are grumpy when you work.”

  Was she enjoying this? She answered with a sweet smile and blew him a kiss before she turned and leaned way too far out. Within seconds she fired at the SUVs. The shotgun was solid, and had a kick, but she knew how to wedge it up close to her shoulder to minimise the impact. He glued his eyes back on the dangerous curves ahead of them and off hers for only a moment before he yelled, “Just aim for the tyres!”

  “What do you think I’m doing? Don’t be a back seat marksman.”

  A back seat marksman?

  Rowdy barked, nearly deafening him, but sounding like he was in agreement with Kris. Robert gave the dog a dirty look in the rear-view mirror, which the mutt ignored. His focus remained fixed on Kris. Robert’s was divided between the road, the crazy woman leaning out of the Jeep window, and the rear-view mirror.

  The SUVs were gaining.

  Her next shot hit the front tyre. The SUV went barrelling off to the left, hit the snow bank and flew over it, turning in a slow destructive circle mid-air when it did.

  Kris slid back inside, breathless, rosy-cheeked and wearing a stunned expression.

  “Did I just kill those people?”

  “Nah, you didn’t kill them. That SUV is built like a tank, they’re fine. Jarred a bit, but fine.”

  “You’re just saying that, but thank you, I think— Watch out!”

  He turned back in time to realise he was too late to do more than pull the wheel to the right sharply and barely avoid the biggest part of the downed tree crossing the road in front of them. They roared over the smaller end and Kristen hit her head again, this time on the roof with a loud crunch. He pulled her in closer and cursed as the next turn hit them right after they had made it over the tree. They slid down the curve of it, made it around right when they heard the roar of the second SUV crash. He hoped into the bigger part of the tree.

  “Do you think they made it past?” Kris whispered.

  “I hope not,” he told her, manoeuvring down the snowy road. It was like running on ice with socks. “But don’t count on it,” he added.

  “Robert, if I have to warn you another time about driving, I’m taking the wheel, Ironman or not.”

  He laughed at the feminine little threat then cleared his throat when he noticed she’d merely lifted her sexy eyebrows at him.

  “I’m good. The road is like slippery snow over ice, so it’s not as easy as I’m making it look.”

  She snorted at his joke and glanced repeatedly behind them while she rolled the window up. “It’s freezing, so you are driving on ice. That’s why you have to keep your eyes on it, not everything else.”

  “I like everything else way too much not to take keeping it in one piece seriously, darling.”

  She smiled over at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Just be careful of the road when it’s like this.” She waved at the high wall of snow lining one side of the road and the sharp drop on the other side. “It’s dangerous.” She glanced behind them nervously. “Not that you’re not doing amazingly well.”

  He snorted at the compliment, but caught her smiling at him and winked at her. The sound of their tail registered a few seconds later and she frowned back through the rear window.

  “Wow, these guys are seriously pissing me off.”

  “Put that window back down and see if you can’t show me who’s really amazing.”

  “I thought I already had, this morning,” she said with a smirk when he glanced at her.

  God, could she be more perfect?

  “You did, now, mind on the mission, not me.”

  “So this is a mission?”

  “Out the window,” he reminded her sternly, unable to maintain the straight face when she looked so damn cute. “Missions are the worst things in the world, so no, this can’t be a mission. You’re in it, for one.”

  “Oh, you are so earning brownie points, aren’t you?” she teased, scooting out of the window and settling the gun in position. She hung out there like a pro, barely losing the aim of the gun on the bumpy road. She’d angled her leg so her boot was firmly on the floor of the Jeep to steady the gun, he noticed. She also worked quickly, not wasting time, and hit what she aimed for, probably because the gun was too heavy for her. She fired twice and grumbled about his driving on the second miss. “Just a bit less like I’m on a rollercoaster, please, I’m not Hercules, you know.”

  He kept in the grin but tried to keep the ride steadier for her. It paid off, he heard her next shot hit true when the SUV careened against the side of the road and like a pinball, it hit the other wall of snow before she shot again and the engine took a hit. Smoke billowed up and she sat back down looking so damn pleased with herself he laughed.

  “Damn, woman, you can shoot!” He wanted to kiss her so badly he couldn’t stand to look at her so he kept his eyes on the road.

  “I learned from Sam. He’s a good man,” she finally said, sounding like she’d lost some of her spark. Her eyes were distant when he looked away from the road long enough to gauge her expression. “He understands a lot, for an old guy.”

  “He means a lot to you.”

  She glanced over and frowned softly. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

  They drove in silence after, the road so dangerous he nearly slid off it several times, but neither of them said much over it. He guessed shooting at the vehicles had registered with her. Maybe he’d not been fair asking her to do it, but she’d done well. She’d remained calm and even leaning out of the Jeep had kept him on his toes.

  Something else occurred to him too as he kept busy with the road.

  Not once had he lost his temper.

  Was she right? Did she know him better than he knew himself? The quiet way she’d said that made it clear she meant more than here and now. She’d also questioned his volatile temper enough to make him re-examine his own beliefs. She was the kindest woman he’d ever met. She didn’t limit her giving to those around her, but reached out to others. Much like Mandy did. His sister would never harm someone like Sarge had. She’d never strike her child. He knew that to the bottom of his soul. Then why did he fear he would with the same amount of conviction?

  “Ouch!” Kristen murmured when he turned too sharply. Her smile, though, didn’t add blame. “This road is horrible.”

  What if they made a child together? Just the thought sent off an ache in his chest for what he’d never have. He’d made sure of it. But if he’d not, if he could create a child, he’d love that baby with every piece of his heart this woman didn’t own.

  He’d never harm his child. Their child. He felt like she’d punched him in the gut.

  “Oh God! Robert!”

  Her cry matched the one he felt internally as they hit black ice and spun out of his control. “I got it, I got it, Kris.”

  But he didn’t. He could feel it even as he let the wheel turn into the spin and eased on the brake. There was no brake and there was no stopping the spin to the edge.

  “Grab onto me, come here, now!”

  He didn’t wait, but tucked her head into his chest and wrapped his arms tight around her, bracing his legs for what he knew would be impact with the creek below them. The Jeep had slowed down but with a silence only broken by Rowdy’s whine, they went over the edge.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You’re certain of this, Ms Petrova?”

  Sonya tilted her head, examining the man she’d gone undercover to ferret out.

  David Petersen, known as Duke, was a man of power and odd views on the world. He’d been born into wealth and had grown up not being denied anything. Until he’d reached the age of thirty-seven, he’d partied like most of the playboy elite then he’d fallen in love and married Victoria Klein. The two of them not only shared their German ancestry dating back to Prussian times, but wer
e highly involved in the upper elite of the world. They were also romantics, with an odd twist. They thought they could use genetics to create perfect couples—complete with high sex drives and perfect bodies—a Match.com for the beautiful people of this world.

  Too bad he’d sent a rabid dog in with his beautiful plans.

  “I’m absolutely certain. I wouldn’t be here now, giving you this intelligence, if I wasn’t.”

  He nodded and glanced at his perfectly gorgeous wife. Victoria had paled, but of course she looked just as beautiful. Duke stroked her hand, clearly upset by the file on Walters.

  She’d not been pleased either. The man had given her the creeps since day one, but confirming why had made her sick.

  Eric Walters was a douche, clearly thinking his actions were above reproach because he targeted women. She was certain the dozen reports she had found describing him down to the two tattoos on his chest were only a small percentage of the actual brutality he had visited upon women. He got off on causing pain, or as one victim wrote, ‘teaching them a lesson’. She’d thrown up a little in her throat at the description of just how he accomplished that. She knew lots of couples enjoyed BDSM, knew a few people that fell into that kink, but what Walters did wasn’t a Dom to a sub. He wasn’t out to please his sub through his actions. He was out to please himself. His disgusting actions rubbed too close to what she’d experienced to sit well with her. If she had her way, she’d take him out herself.

  “I have word McNeil has got by him. It will take time to retrieve the team now. I will—”

  Sonya held up a hand and Duke frowned, but cut off. If McNeil was Walters’ target the man was as good as dead. McNeil wasn’t going to let a fumbler like Walters get the drop on him. One of Walters’ biggest flaws was his enormous ego. He thought more of himself than was rational. That would work to her benefit and McNeil’s.

  “Let him carry on. McNeil will take care of the problem for you. Eric Walters is no match for a man like McNeil, but your men, no offence intended, are no match for Walters. He’s made a career of killing and can do so with anything, at any time. Your men don’t have that kind of skill set, drugs or no drugs.”