It wasn’t fair. He cursed. Such a stupid thought, and the understatement of the year. Hadn’t she been through enough? Why now? It had been over a half a year since she’d been rescued from those monsters.
“How did he find us here? Who told?” she whispered. “I know Meg didn’t, so it’s either Agent Hemmings or the police department . . . or maybe the GBI.” She heaved a sigh, finally meeting his concerned gaze. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Dean.”
He stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair. He would do anything to make her feel better, but what could he offer except empty platitudes? Perhaps she was right. Maybe someone had leaked information—inadvertently or on purpose. It wasn’t anything that he hadn’t thought of himself, but what could he do about it? Even if he could figure out a place to take Amy to, he doubted she’d just up and disappear with him. Even if he suggested leaving Monroe entirely.
Besides, the authorities were better trained to protect her, weren’t they? Dean shook his head. Maybe not.
“There might not be a leak,” he said, pausing in front of the window. He moved the curtain aside with his finger to peek out toward the parking lot. No one was out there. “He could have followed us here.”
His comment elicited a shudder. He wanted to sit down next to her on the bed and wrap his arm around her, but her posture made him hesitate. She sat straight, her chin lifted as she stared at the curtained windows as if she could see on the other side.
“I should’ve known that this wouldn’t be over. That it might never be over.” She looked up at him, nibbling at her lower lip. “I knew that I’d eventually have to testify against him, but the more time passed, the more I tried to convince myself to believe that there might be enough evidence against him that they didn’t need my testimony. At least not in person.”
“They’ll find him, Amy.” The words he intended to provide comfort triggered a grimace on her part. A glare of light passed through the curtains, as he heard a car pulling up close by their motel room. She stiffened, her hands curled into tight fists against the top of her thighs. She was trying so hard to hide her fear. Dean was so proud of her and felt a surge of sympathy at the same time. He peeked along the side of the curtain again.
“It’s Agent Hemmings.”
Moments later, there was a soft knock at the door. He looked through the peep hole and then unlocked the door, opening it and backing up just enough to allow the agent enough space to slip into the room.
“Where is it?”
Dean pointed to the paper and the Polaroids and watched silently as Hemmings nodded a silent greeting to Amy and then stepped to the dresser. He didn’t reach for the paper right away, but first ducked a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves. Only then did he reach for the paper, holding that in one hand and the photographs in the other. He read the note first, a frown tugging at his eyebrows. His jaw muscle clenched.
Folding the paper along its crease, he spread the Polaroid photos on the dresser top and then turned to Amy first, then Dean.
“You didn’t hear anyone approaching the door last night, no cars?”
Both of them shook their heads. Amy looked up at him, clearing her throat.
“I don’t know how he found me here,” she said. “I admit that my first thought was that there was a leak in the police department, but Dean mentioned that maybe Nick has been watching me for some time.”
Hemmings nodded. “It’s a possibility.” He sighed and gestured toward her backpack. “We’ll need to relocate you. You ready to go?”
She reached for the strap. “More than ready.” She paused, looking at Hemmings, then at Dean, nibbling at her bottom lip with her teeth again. “But what’s to stop him from following us to the next location?”
Hemmings hesitated, his expression somber. “We’re going to do the best we can, Amy. In the meantime, I’m looking into the possibility of a leak. It may not be deliberate. Maybe someone overheard something they shouldn’t have and said something in passing. If that’s what happened, I promise you I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“So where do we go now?” Dean asked. He stared at Hemmings, daring the man to suggest Dean should stay behind this time. To his credit, he nodded swiftly at Dean and then moved on. Message received.
“We have another location, not far from here—”
Amy scowled. “Not far from here? If he’s already in the area, why would you put me in another location that’s close by?” She looked at Dean as she shook her head. “I don’t want to—”
“I’m sure he’s got his reasons—”
She cut him off and then muttered a quick apology before turning back to the agent. “Why?” She inhaled a shaky breath, shoulders slumped. “I just . . . I don’t mean to be rude or ungrateful for the help and protection, but I just don’t understand . . .”
“If Nick Summers’s out there, or one of his people, he’d expect that we’d move you a whole new location. That involves planning and timing that I don’t want to risk right now. I know that the county only has a couple of safe houses available at any given time. I’m hoping that in moving you, he—or they—will expect us to move you to the furthest location from this one.” He offered an encouraging smile. “But we’re not going to do that. There’s another motel maybe a mile down the road. It’s deeper in the woods, even more secluded than this spot, and will be easier to watch the comings and goings of passersby.”
“But—”
“I already have an undercover GBI agent who will take the place of the desk agent there this afternoon and into the night. He’ll watch the parking lot from the office. If he sees anything out of the ordinary, I’ll know about it within seconds.”
Dean glanced at Amy. He could tell by her dubious expression that she wasn’t sure she believed the agent. He wasn’t sure he did, either, but what was the alternative? Losing her forever? Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If she was safe, it would be worth it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to opt for WITSEC, Amy? It might be the safest thing for you to do right now.”
“I’m not going to let him do this to me again. I won’t!”
Her ashen features emphasized the dark circles under her eyes. Her hands tightly clutched at the bedspread, and her feet were flat on the floor.
“Try to stay calm, Amy,” Hemmings said. “We’re doing—”
“Please don’t patronize me, Agent Hemmings.” She spoke calmly though her tone was tinged with frustration and impatience. “Please don’t tell me to stay calm. I’m trying. But you don’t know what he’s like!” She darted a glance at Dean, lowering her voice. “I think it would be better if you just went home.”
A rock formed in Dean’s chest. She wanted him to leave? “This doesn’t scare me, Amy. I told you I would stay with you. I meant that.”
She tightly closed her eyes as if in pain. Dean stepped to the bed and sat down next to her, reaching for her hand. He tugged it gently away from her grip on the bedspread. Her skin felt cold as ice. He intertwined his fingers with hers. With his other hand, he gently cupped her cheek and turned her face to his. “I told you that I would stay with you. You don’t have to go through this alone. I won’t let you.”
Tears glazed her eyes. Her chest hitched with a half sob, half frantic laugh. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? What your interest in me might do? Dean, it’s bad enough that Nick has ruined my life. He doesn’t have to ruin yours, too.”
Dean couldn’t immediately identify which emotion prevailed inside him. Fury? Jealousy? Or was it merely the fact that he wanted to protect her? After all, protecting people was his job, wasn’t it? She might not be the victim of a fire, but she was the victim of something just as horrible, probably worse. At the moment, he couldn’t put out the fire, but he could offer her his support.
Amy said nothing, sagging against him as if all the fight had left her. If she didn’t have it in her to be strong for a while, he’d do it for her.
He looked up at Hemmings.
“What do you want us to do?”
He glanced at Dean. “You’re not going to like this, Dean, but this is the way we’re going to play it. I’m going to take Amy in my car. I’ll make it appear as if she’s returning to town, but we’re going to take a slight detour at the rest stop down the road. She’s going to go into the bathroom. There’s a back door there that’s usually locked. It’s now unlocked. Behind it we have another car waiting. That car will take Amy to the motel on a roundabout route.”
The agent had obviously planned this carefully, as he fucking should. “And then?”
“You’ll wait here for at least thirty minutes. I’ll come back and pick you up and take you back to your truck at the fire station. From there, you drive out of town, taking route thirty-seven north. There’s a forest service road about three miles outside of town. Take that. It winds its way back to the road on the west side of the motel. Behind the motel there’s an RV park. Park your truck there, near one of the RVs to make it seem like it’s theirs. You’ll be able to walk to the motel on foot.”
“How will I know which room is Amy’s?”
“I’m putting her in Room Five. It’s halfway to the office and the door is completely visible from there.”
Dean nodded. Such a complicated plan, but maybe this time it would prove more effective in confusing whomever was after Amy. Still, if this didn’t work, if he got any indication that she continued to be in danger, he would insist she go into WITSEC. The thought of never seeing her again nearly broke him, but he’d do it if it kept her alive. That was all that mattered.
18
Amy
Amy sat on one of two double beds inside a nondescript motel room at the Riverside Motel. Except for the bedspread pattern and the color of the curtains, it was a nearly identical match to the motel she had been moved from. Anxious, she jiggled her foot and bit at a hangnail, her gaze continually darting toward the closed curtains and the locked door, making sure for the hundredth time that the chain was in place.
Not that either would stop Nick from getting inside if he wanted to. She had seen him lose his temper once. Even though he wasn’t a huge guy, he was wiry and strong. Deceptively strong. He didn’t display emotion often, but when he got mad, he was as scary as hell.
His right eye would twitch slightly and his lips would thin, twisting into something between a smirk and a frown. And his eyes . . . oh, Lord, those eyes that could make her feel all gooey inside would harden into glasslike orbs without emotion, pupils constricted, making her blood run cold.
His anger that time had not been directed at her, but some other woman in a bar they had gone to once to shoot some pool. She wasn’t even sure what had started it, but from what she could tell, the woman had made some kind of disparaging remark to Nick. Only the appearance of a bouncer had quelled that look in his eyes. That was the first time that Amy had felt a niggling doubt about her new boyfriend. Why the hell hadn’t she listened to her instincts?
Afterward, to blow off steam, Nick had suggested a motorcycle ride. It had been fast and more than a little scary. Amy had barely had time to put the motorcycle helmet on and was beginning to fasten the strap beneath her chin when he revved the bike and they shot forward. She nearly lost her seat. At the last second, she snatched at his jacket and wrapped her arms around his waist. He had blown through town at twice the speed limit; had even ignored a stoplight as they roared through an intersection. She had buried her face in his back after that, eyes closed, both arms wrapped tightly around his ribs, expecting at any moment to be T-boned.
He hadn’t slowed down as he wound their way up the highway, zooming around curves, picking up speed through long downhill slopes common to the area until finally, he slowed his bike down and pulled into a turn-off. He had ordered her to get off and she did, her legs trembling so badly she wasn’t sure they would hold her up.
Nick had disappeared into the surrounding trees for several minutes before reappearing, his sense of calm once again restored. She hadn’t said anything to him about the bar nor the breakneck speed, afraid of reigniting his anger. He hadn’t mentioned it, either. Not that night, not the next day, not ever.
If he really wanted in, he would get in. One could kick would do it for that flimsy door. That or maybe one of the patio chairs scattered intermittently in front of the motel rooms tossed through the window. Either way, there would be no keeping anyone out if it came to that.
Amy risked a look out the window. Dean should be arriving soon. She’d been sitting alone here for several hours. Where the hell was he? Had he and Agent Hemmings come up with another plan to keep her safe? Sure, there was supposed to be a man stationed at reception, but Amy hadn’t seen him. She hadn’t seen anyone. Sitting there alone in the room was starting to completely freak her out.
She wanted to go home, back to Dean’s, or even to Promise House. How long would she have to hide out? How long would it take the FBI to find Nick? Even if they did, she had a feeling that it wouldn’t be over. Unless they managed to capture every member of the sex ring, she would continue to be a loose end to the operation.
She looked out the window again. It would be starting to get dark soon. Where was he? A thought entered her mind. What if he didn’t come? Had he changed his mind? She’d said that he should leave, go back to his safe, regular life. There was no need for Dean to put his own life in danger. Not for her, a near stranger.
What if he’d actually listened to her? What if—
A knock on the door startled her and she jumped. Her heart skipped a beat and the hair on the back of her neck rose. She froze, staring at the door, eyes wide, heart pounding.
“Amy, let me in. It’s Dean.”
At the sound of his voice, an intense surge of relief flooded through her, leaving her feeling like a wet piece of spaghetti. Boneless. She took a deep breath and forced herself to stand. She quickly moved to the door, unclasped the chain, and then unlocked the door. She opened the door, smiling when she saw Dean. Having him there made the room feel a little less cold. He quickly stepped inside and locked the door again before turning back to her and wrapping her in his arms.
“You doing okay?”
She nodded. “What took you so long?”
Dean stared around the room, shaking his head. “I think we stepped into The Twilight Zone. This room looks exactly like the one we just left.”
She shrugged. “Bedspreads and curtains are different.”
Dean burst out laughing and Amy suppressed a flinch. As he chuckled, a smile crept across her face. She liked making him laugh. It felt good. Plus the man looked like sex on a stick when he smiled.
It felt good to have his arms wrapped around her. To smell his skin, feel his strength surrounding her and protecting her. She stiffened. Since when had she started relying on someone else to protect her? She had to protect herself! She lifted her face, intent on telling him just that, but before she could get a word out, his lips pressed against hers.
She responded instantly. Her nipples hardened and she felt that familiar tingling sensation in her pussy. Before she knew it, they were on the bed. Desire rippled through her body. Adrenaline? Fear? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was for Dean to get closer. She leaned into him, her breasts pressing up against his hard chest. She wanted to feel his skin against hers again, for him to touch her. Taking in a deep breath, Amy grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Her pussy clenched when Dean took her in, staring hungrily. The look on his face caused her nipples to tingle, aching for his touch.
“Dean . . .”
Her fingers found their way underneath his shirt, reveling in the warmth of his skin. His firm chest, his obliques, the way his abs tightened as her fingers spanned his side all thrilled her. She escaped into him, the desire overwhelming, taking her fear and uncertainty away, even if only for a few minutes. She pulled him closer.
Dean responded immediately, dipping lower and c
overing her mouth with his. Soft yet demanding at the same time, both at the mercy of their lust for one another. Emboldened, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. His tongue teased her, licking as her fingers spanned his back and then tugged his shirt up, wanting to feel more. He broke away, quickly yanking it over his head. Amy let her hands wander, tracing over his triceps.
He pulled her down, lying over her, straddling her legs. His hard cock throbbed against her leg and her hand inched downward.
Dean shoved the cups of her bra down over her breasts and she arched upward, inviting. He broke off the kiss, his mouth hovering for a brief second over one nipple, blowing lightly and making her shiver. The warmth of his tongue circled one nipple first and then turned to pay attention to the other. Circle, lick, suckle.
His tongue and lips sent her pulse racing, her body burning with heat and anticipation. Her fingers reached for his fly at the same time his hands sought hers. In a tangle of arms and legs, they managed to get their clothes off, falling back to the bed together. Both naked, their hands never stopped exploring. Dean dipped down along her hip, skimming past the scar to pause on her upper thigh. She reveled in his touch, and at the heat his touch evoked within her. Her skin burned wherever his fingers touched.
He leaned down over her, his weight braced on his forearms. They lay belly to belly. His tongue dove deep into her mouth. Balancing his weight on one arm, he twisted slightly, his hand inching ever closer to her pussy. He moved slowly, as if offering her a chance to change her mind. She didn’t.
“Touch me,” she whispered. She felt free, so filled with desire that she reached for his hand and guided it toward her lower lips, wet now with anticipation. His strong fingers stroked her inner thighs and then slid higher. Amy arched her back as his fingers dove between her lips and teasingly stroked along her slit. She groaned deeply, her heart thudding. She reached for his cock; hard, swollen, fully erect. His mouth never left hers, kissing her deeply, their breathing heavy, his hand stoking a fire deep inside her.
Burning the Past (Southern Heat Book 3) Page 11