“Maybe.” Her muscles let go a little against her seat, and she leaned into the heat of Devon’s palm, still firm and strong and sweet against her cheek. “Yeah. Pinot noir. Or, no, Chianti. That would be perfect.”
“So here’s what I want you to do. Every time you get scared, I want you to close your eyes.” He paused long enough for her to let her eyes flutter shut for a trial run, but then his words continued, low and hypnotic. “Good. Like that. Then I want you to picture that dinner.”
Kylie’s laugh was as soft as it was involuntary. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Devon said, his smile hanging just slightly in his voice. “Red and white tablecloth, garlic bread, the whole nine. You got it?”
She nodded, her shoulders going lax. “Yes.”
“Okay. Now every time you get scared, or you think something bad might happen, I want you to grab onto this picture in your head. Because once we get you safe, you’re going to have that dinner.”
“Do you promise?”
Somewhere, in the logical part of her brain, Kylie knew Devon couldn’t promise she’d be okay any more than he could promise her the moon on a pie plate. But between the quick, calculating actions he’d taken to get her away from Fagan and the slow, soothing circles his thumb was tracing over her jaw, she couldn’t deny the truth.
If Devon said yes, she’d believe him.
“Yes. I promise, Kylie.”
Something about the way he said her name made her open her eyes, recognizing all at once how his body pressed against hers, his chest to her chest, his mouth not even an inch away. Heat roared through Kylie’s belly, quickly turning to slick wetness in her panties, and even though it was insane, she lifted her chin to close the space between them. Devon exhaled against her mouth, but whether it was shock or something deeper, Kylie couldn’t be sure. Want like she’d never, ever felt flared to life in her blood, driving her to search, to take.
And she did.
Kylie reached out, wrapping her arms around the muscle-covered expanse of Devon’s shoulders. The leather from his jacket created just enough friction on her bare forearms to turn her want into a demand, and she didn’t hold back. Devon’s fingers flexed at the hinge of her jaw, his mouth resting on hers with just the barest brush of contact before he pressed against her harder with a groan.
Oh God. Yes. Yes. Kylie swept her tongue over the seam of his lips in a bid for more, and all at once, he gave it. His mouth parted, but not to let her in. No, Devon’s lips slanted over hers with the clear intent to take, and he kissed her hard, desperate. Wild heat built between her legs, her pussy clenching with need beneath the damp satin of her panties. Digging her fingers into his hard, leather-clad shoulders, Kylie matched the intensity of the kiss, even as it grew along with her want. She moaned, parting her mouth, her thighs, her everything so Devon could kiss her, touch her, take her more fully.
But then she realized he’d stopped kissing her back.
Devon grated out a low curse, pushing himself back to the driver’s seat in one fluid motion. “Kylie. We can’t…I need to keep you safe.”
She blinked, her cheeks burning even though the rest of her chilled from the sudden non-contact of their bodies. “Oh! I, uh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No. This is on me. Adrenaline can do crazy things. You’re not used to that, but I should’ve known better. It’s my job to know better.”
“I’m here too, you know.” Kylie pushed herself to sitting, her moxie slowly coming back online. “It takes two to tango, and all that.” Kissing him might’ve been impulsive, but she wasn’t about to deny having wanted it.
“Still. I was way out of line,” he said, his unshakeable demeanor falling right back into place as he swept the parking lot with one last glance before hitting the car’s automatic ignition button. “We’ve waited long enough to be safe for now, but we need to get moving now that you’re calmer.”
Kylie’s gut sank to her boots. Of course he’d just been trying to calm her out of her panic-induced tizzy, nothing more. God, had she seriously been so jacked up on adrenaline that she’d tried to devour him like an all-you-can-eat buffet? She must be out of her freaking mind, not to mention a few other parts. “Right. Sure.”
He eased the car out of the gravel lot, doing the exact speed limit as he retraced their path over the access road. But once again, Devon skipped the pleasantries of the highway, opting instead to turn onto a two-lane state route that—by the look of things—was a hell of a lot less traveled.
“Where are we going?” she asked, and the unyielding set of his jaw sent the tension winging right back into her shoulders.
“We’re going to get out of the immediate area, then find a place to rest and recon for a few hours. I need to get a plan into place.”
“A plan for what?”
Devon didn’t hesitate. “For keeping your brother off that plane.”
Okay, she couldn’t possibly be hearing right. “What? Why?”
“Because if this guy knows enough about you to track you through the DMV, then by now, he knows who Kellan is, too.”
The thought of Fagan going after her brother turned Kylie’s stomach into a corkscrew. Still… “If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Kellan.”
“I know.” Devon’s gaze hardened as he lasered it through the windshield and into the predawn. “But if Kellan gets on that plane, he’ll lead this asshole to you like a homing beacon. We’ve got to take Plan B.”
Already, she hated the sound of this, but no way was she going to stay in the dark. “And Plan B is?”
“First, we’re going to figure out how to run the murder you witnessed up the right chain of command so we can take Fagan down. But you’re right—if we stay too long in one place, he has a better chance of finding us.”
“Okay,” Kylie said, trying like mad to process the thoughts flinging themselves around in her already overstuffed brain. “So what does that mean, exactly?”
Devon turned, his copper-colored stare as fierce as it was determined. “It means Kellan’s going to figure out how to get you into protective custody, and then we’re going to nail this guy to the wall. In the meantime, since your brother can’t come to you, I’m going to take you to your brother. One state at a time.”
Chapter Four
Devon stared at the highway, the dull gray ribbon of asphalt stretching as far as he could see. The darkness had faded a few hours ago, and Kylie right along with it, both seemingly out of the energy required to continue.
His hard-on, however, had picked up the slack in spades.
As if she could see him through her zzzzzs, he cut a quick glance at Kylie in the passenger seat, adjusting his dick to a less socially awkward position while mentally singing “99 Bottles of Knock It Off, Asshole.” She was in a metric fuckton of danger, not to mention being Kellan’s sister. The same sister the guy had flipped his goddamn lid over when Devon had called to brief him a couple hours ago on their run-in with Fagan. The same sister Devon had sworn to drive two thousand miles to safety.
The same sister he’d coaxed out of a panic attack by way of putting his tongue in her sweet, sexy mouth, and fuck, he really was a degenerate of the highest order.
Double fuck, a deep, dark part of him had wanted to do so much more than kiss her.
“Ugh.” Kylie stirred slowly from her spot next to him, her blue eyes doing the open and close routine as she adjusted to the land of the living.
“Morning,” Devon said, sending one last not for you to his cock before sliding a glance in her direction. Christ, even with bleary eyes and bedhead, she was still sexy as hell.
“It’s still morning?”
Devon nodded, and yeah, this was good. They should stick to the basics. “Just shy of oh-nine-hundred. How’d you sleep?”
“Like I’m running for my life,” Kylie said, wincing as soon as the words were out. “Sorry. I get kind of sarcastic when I’m scared. Kellan says it’s a defensive thing. But you didn’t sleep at all, so I s
houldn’t complain.”
“You also shouldn’t apologize.” Devon lifted a shoulder halfway, then let it drop back into place against the black and red leather of the Challenger’s driver seat. “Ingrained defense mechanisms are a good thing. They mean you’re a fighter.” Annnnd since he wasn’t going to get a better segue, he added, “Now that you’re up, we should talk some specifics.”
Her body tensed, but he had to give her credit. Her chin stayed nice and high. “Okay.”
“We’re just outside of Billings right now. That puts us roughly thirty hours from North Carolina.” Devon had mapped the route with Kellan during their phone conversation, and it hadn’t been all chuckles.
“Why do I sense the word ‘but’ coming on?” Kylie asked, and man, she got right to it.
Not that he minded. “But we have to stick to some less traveled routes, and we definitely can’t go tearing across the country like there’s a Molotov cocktail strapped to our asses. If we get pulled over, we go right into the system. Even if the cop who writes the ticket isn’t dirty, chances are, if Fagan is the player he’s claiming to be, he’ll still find it.”
Devon didn’t want to add—out loud, anyway—that the guy almost certainly had whatever network was at his disposal busting its ass to try and find the Challenger, and if he’d managed even a partial ID of Devon’s plates during all the duck and run last night? That could send shit FUBAR in a heartbeat or less.
Kylie shivered even though the sun was already promising to warm the June day well into the eighties according to the radio’s weather report. “Did Kellan have any ideas on who to take this to?”
“He’s got a few contacts he trusts at the NCPD, but it’s going to take a little time. We don’t want Fagan to know we’re sniffing around,” Devon said. “The more we stay under the radar, the better. At least for now.”
“So until then, you and I just road trip to North Carolina?”
“’Fraid so.” Devon knew it was probably the last thing she’d ever wanted to do. “By the time we get there, Kellan should have a safe plan in place. I keep a go bag in my trunk, so I’ve got a decent amount of cash and a few changes of clothes.” And a veritable arsenal, complete with plenty of ammo, but that pretty much fell under the umbrella of well, duh. “We’ll have to stop and get a few things for you. I mean, uh. You know. Under…garments and stuff.”
Kylie nodded, turning about the same shade as the magenta streak in her ponytail, which brought him to Point B. “We’re going to need to cover up your hair, too, unless you want to cut it.”
“You’re not serious.” She pinned him with a look that suggested he’d gone around the bend, her hands flying up to the now-loose elastic keeping her hair (sort of) in check.
“The pink is pretty conspicuous. All I’m saying is that changing it would make it harder to spot you. But covering it is an okay alternative.”
She sat back in her seat, pressing her lips together for a full minute before reaching for her purse to start rummaging through its contents. “Well, it’s not much, but I got decent tips over the weekend, so I have a hundred and fifty-two dollars in cash. I also have my phone, the Maglite, some toiletries…” She trailed off, her brows sliding together as she looked at him. “What?”
He let out an exhale loaded with remorse. “About your phone. I’m gonna need it.”
“But I turned it off when we left the motel, just like you asked,” Kylie said. She held the thing up as proof, and man, Devon felt like shit for what he was about to do.
Not that he wasn’t still going to do it. “I know, but there’s still a chance it can be tracked. It would take a lot of time and effort, so the chance is small, but it’s not worth the risk.”
“So what are you going to do with it?”
“Truth?”
She nodded, and he wished like fuck she hadn’t because now he had to say, “I’m going to pull over in the next secluded spot I see and put a couple nine millimeter slugs in it, just to be sure the GPS won’t out our location.”
Her breath escaped in a shocked chirp. “You’re going to shoot my phone?”
“Sorry. But yeah.”
“What about yours? If Fagan knows your car, he knows you. Can’t he track your phone too?” Kylie challenged, knotting her arms over her chest. Goddamn it, they were going to need to find her a new top when they stopped for supplies. Preferably one with the dimensions and sex appeal of a burlap sack.
“No,” Devon said, pulling over on a sandy shoulder on the desolate stretch of road. It was as good a spot as any, and the sooner he got rid of her technology, the better, really.
“No? That’s all you’ve got?”
Damn, she hadn’t been messing around when she’d warned him about the sarcastic/defensive thing. “First of all, we don’t know that Fagan can ID my car. But secondly, I freelance private security for a living. When I’m on the job, my personal cell goes under lock and key in a safe location. After that, it’s strictly burner phones, so I tossed the one I was using after I briefed your brother.”
Kylie’s dark brows shot upward. “You tossed it. As in…?”
“Out the window, about a hundred and ten miles ago. I already swapped it for a new one, just in case.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip, her eyes darting out the window as he slowed the car and pulled over to the shoulder. “I guess you’ve thought of everything.”
That, and he owed her brother the crown jewel of debts for the one time he hadn’t thought of everything and had ended up endangering not only himself, but his entire team, including Kellan. Not that Devon wanted to go there right now—or, okay, ever. “This is my job, Kylie. I keep people safe.”
As if to prove the point, he nodded at the cluster of trees just past the shoulder of the road where they’d stopped.
“You want me to go with you while you blow my phone to kingdom come?” she asked.
Devon answered her question by getting out of the Challenger and rounding the front of the vehicle to open the passenger door for her. “Your brother trusts me to keep you safe, which means you don’t leave my sight unless absolutely necessary.”
For a second, she looked like she might argue. But something shifted in her bright blue stare, prompting her to murmur, “Whatever blows your skirt up, I guess.”
He led her through the trees, just enough for them to have cover while still keeping one eye on the car. Dropping her phone in a bald patch in the grass, Devon paced off about fifteen steps, because seriously, shrapnel was a bitch best left alone.
He unholstered his backup weapon from its spot just above his left ankle. “Go ahead and get behind me. And you’re going to want to cover your ears.”
Although she looked way less than thrilled about it, Kylie did as he asked. She stood close enough for him to feel her flinch at both shots he fired into her iPhone, but he had to hand it to her. Rather than get uppity about the ruined tech or complain about lost contacts the way some people did, she simply waited for him to make sure the GPS had been effectively disabled.
Two seconds later, the deed was done, and twenty more had them back in the Challenger, driving away from the blasted bits that used to be Kylie’s cell phone. Devon refocused on the road, figuring he had another hour, maybe two before they’d have to stop for gas, food, and a little shuteye.
“So private security. That must keep you pretty busy,” Kylie said, and he steeled himself against the curiosity glinting in her eyes. The last thing he needed was to get personal with her, despite the stupid what’s-your-favorite-dinner crap he’d pulled earlier.
“Uh huh.”
She waited out the silence for a minute, then two. “Have you been out of the Army for three years like Kellan?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Another pause, but still, she didn’t let up. “And you’ve been doing security the whole time?”
“Yup.”
Kylie arched a dark brow, turning to peg him with a high-level, no-bullshit stare. “Are you going to be this c
hatty the whole time we’re stuck together? Because really, all these details are wearing me right out.”
Whether it was her sassy mouth or his adrenaline finally letting down after being shot at a handful of hours ago, Devon couldn’t be sure. But his words launched out before he could tamp down the urge to give them air time.
“I’m thirty-one years old, and I’ve lived pretty much all over the map. I went into the Army right after high school, because it was either that or follow in my old man’s footsteps as a career criminal. Became a Ranger three years later, took a few strolls through Iraq and Afghanistan, and now I’m back here stateside, freelancing security gigs, most of them with a private company run by my brother-in-law’s family. Were there any other details you wanted, or did I hit the highlights for you?”
Her wide-eyed expression combined with her stunned silence to punch holes in Devon’s gut, and Jesus Christ, he was an ass.
And he hadn’t even let loose the part where he’d foolishly let himself get taken hostage on an ambush, not to mention how her brother had risked his life to save Devon’s about three nanoseconds before some scumbag insurgent buried a bullet in both of their gray matter.
Devon opened his mouth for a sloppy retraction, but Kylie beat him to the one-two. “No, that’s pretty good, actually.”
“What about you?” he asked, even as his better judgment howled at him to stand down and shut up. But at least talking about her would be better than opening his yap about the not-so-good old days.
“Me? I’m pretty much an open book, I guess. Kellan and I don’t have much by way of family, but he’s six years older than me, so he does the protective thing a lot.”
Devon’s brows climbed upward. “You’re only twenty-five?”
Kellan had never mentioned the age gap between him and Kylie, and she was tenacious enough that Devon never would’ve guessed it was more than a year or two.
“Yeah, but I’ve been pretty much on my own since Kellan went into the Army. After high school, I did a semester at community college, took some cooking classes.” She shrugged, although the rise and fall of her shoulders was just a little too stiff to carry genuine nonchalance. “I like to cook, but jobs in the front of the house are easier to get, so I just bounced around waiting tables and tending bar. That kind of thing.”
Deep Trouble: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) Page 4