The man gave a cheer when he grabbed his prize and she could breathe again when the feet disappeared. She wanted to peek outside to see if they were gone but Sawyer grabbed her hand and shook his head. How did he do that? He seemed to be able to read her mind.
The voices were still loud, but not as close. Sawyer carefully lowered the tarp and she was dismayed to discover that the group had set up the volleyball net in the grassy area right outside the door.
They both ducked down when someone headed back into the storage room. He rooted around on the shelves and moved ever closer. He let out a triumphant call to his friends, letting them know he’d found speakers. He proceeded to carry them outside where someone must have plugged in an iPod. Spanish music blared through the sound system.
“It’s going to be a long day,” Sawyer muttered.
If she had to be trapped in an eight by ten space with no windows and the rank odor of gasoline making her high, there was no one she’d rather be stranded with than Sawyer Oldham.
They passed the time by discussing their hobbies. His were working out, which was obvious by his muscular form; baseball, she discovered he’d played in college; mystery novels and travelling, something they had in common. Hers were painting, something she hoped to make a career of someday; exercise, but where Sawyer went for muscle mass, she preferred stretching and cardio; hiking and romance books.
While on paper their hobbies might look different, they were very similar. They enjoyed physical activity, reading and travelling.
They discussed collections: his, baseball cards; hers shoes. Favorite music: they both enjoyed classic rock.
“Okay, strangest thing that’s ever happened to you,” she posed.
“Hum. Well, I was once confused for some Swedish pop star. I’d never even heard of him.”
“What happened?”
“I was chased down the sidewalk by a rabid group of females. I barely made it inside the hotel where I was staying.”
“Hum, getting chased by a group of adoring fans, female fans no less, doesn’t sound bad to me.”
“The average age of the females was about twelve.”
A laugh burst from her and she quickly covered her mouth so they weren’t discovered. “Okay, that might be bad.”
“What about you?”
“I once found a leg in the middle of the road.”
His head jerked back. “What? You’re kidding.”
She shook her head and held up a hand. “Swear. I was with a friend and we rounded a curve and there was a leg just lying there. We drove for a few more feet, trying to decide if it really was a leg and we passed a man propped against a motorcycle. He was missing a leg.”
“Oh,” he drawled. “A prosthetic?”
“Yes, but he actually had two. Both his legs were artificial. We turned around and I jumped out and grabbed it and took it back to him. He had just gotten the new legs the day before and the fit was off. When the one came loose, he couldn’t go back for it and juggle the bike at the same time.”
“It took guts for him to ride the bike in the first place. What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten?”
“Shark. I don’t want to disgust you or anything, but it went straight through me. I thought my insides were coming out. Nasty. You?”
“I’d say I’m adventurous, but I don’t do disgusting food. I did have to eat haggis in Scotland once.”
“Ugh, that’s sheep innards, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, heart, lungs, liver. Some other stuff mixed in and encased in the stomach. One bite was enough for a lifetime.”
She shuddered. “What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done?”
“A tie between bungie jumping off the Artuby Bridge in France or visiting a nude beach in Australia.”
Harlow gulped. The image of Sawyer completely naked, lying on the sand with the sun’s rays beating down on him was almost more than she could stand…and all she could think about.
“Harlow?”
“Hum?”
“I asked about your wildest adventure.”
“Oh. Right. I would have to say that I’ve climbed Mount McKinley.”
“Wow, seriously? That’s impressive. You thought about attempting Everest?”
“I would like to, someday. It’s about ten thousand feet higher, but I would like to give it a go. Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Casandra Tilton.”
“Who?”
He smiled fondly. “A trainer at Quantico.”
“I said celebrity crush.”
Now his smile was just plain wicked. “She was famous…around the complex.”
“Doesn’t count,” she grumped, wondering just how close he’d gotten to the woman. Not that she was jealous. Much.
He let out a long sigh. “Fine. Megan Fox.”
Harlow barely managed to stifle a gasp. Several people had told her that she resembled the Transformers actress.
“Harlow.”
She blinked up at him. “Hum?”
“I asked who was your celebrity crush.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t heard the question because she’d been reeling inside. “Uh, Bobby Flay.”
Sawyer’s brows puckered. “Seriously? The skinny, red-headed dude who cooks?”
“Men don’t hold the patent on a way to the heart is through the stomach. He cooked for my family once and it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten, though it was a tad spicy.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…you’ve met him?” Sawyer waved his hands and shook his head. “That doesn’t count.”
“Sure it does. It’s not like he would remember me. Besides, he’s a celebrity. It counts.”
“Doesn’t, and I’m sure he remembers you. You’re unforgettable.”
She was truly reeling now. He thought she was unforgettable? “Well, uh, I’m sure you met Candy Whats-her-name at Quantico.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But you didn’t let me keep her.”
“Oh, right.” He had her all discombobulated. She blurted out the man that reminded her of Sawyer…a bit scruffier and disheveled, but close in the looks department. “Then I pick Eric Christian Olsen.”
“Who?”
“Marty Deeks. NCIS Los Angeles.”
His mouth dropped open. “You mean the guy whose hair has never seen a comb?”
She nodded.
He ran his hands over his unshaven face, the bristles making a scratchy noise. “The dude with the perma-scruff? You go for that look?”
“It works on him.” She much preferred Sawyer’s clean-shaven face and short, stylish haircut, but she didn’t want to give herself away. The dimple in his cheek that popped out when he smiled was more pronounced when he was whisker-free.
“So unkempt dudes float your boat—”
She burst out laughing. “Float your boat? What is this, the eighties?”
“Fine, trips your trigger, sizzles your bacon, butters your biscuit. Pick one.”
She smiled. “Well I do love bacon.”
He smiled back. “My turn to ask a question. Worst thing you’ve ever done?”
Oh gosh, that was a tough one. She’d been a handful growing up. The restrictions that came with her families’ political dynasty had suffocated her. She’d rebelled every chance she could. But one incident stood out. “When I was in high school, I wanted to go to a party one of my friends was throwing, but my parents were hosting a dinner of several heads of state. It was expected that I’d attend, so I got all dressed up and then I bribed one of the waitresses into changing clothes with me so I could sneak past my parents security. Worked like a charm…until I had a little too much to drink—”
“How old were you?”
She cleared her throat. “Uh, sixteen?”
“Are you asking me or telling?”
“Telling.”
His smile was wicked. “You rebel.”
He had no idea. Her favorite hobby growing up had been eluding security detail. That’s what got her in trouble when she ai
ded and abetted her sister Zoe’s escape…and eventual abduction.
“So your parents found out their sweet daughter was tipsy?”
“Yeah, the head of security had to come pick me up and I ended up puking in his car. Not fun. But the worst part was when the girl who switched with me was fired from her job.”
“Oh, man, that sucks.”
“Yeah, I felt so guilty. She didn’t want to do it and I pressured her. She was really sweet and I took advantage of her. My parents got her another job with better pay, so it all worked out in the end.” She glossed over some things, like the substantial grounding, but he didn’t need to know all of the dirty details. “Now you. What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”
#
Sawyer wished he hadn’t posed the question. What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t want Harlow to think less of him for some of the things he’d done. He’d killed. It didn’t get much worse than taking a life, even if the person deserved it. Still, he delved back further into his history.
“Mine’s also from high school. I beat a kid unconscious, broke his nose, and he spent two days in the hospital.” He cringed, waiting for her reaction. He got one, but it wasn’t the one he expected.
“Good for you.”
“Good for…excuse me?”
“The kid deserved it. You wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”
Her faith in him humbled him. “His name was Doug Duckworth, but everyone called him Duck. He was trying to strip the clothes off Mickey, an autistic boy in our class. Mickey was the sweetest guy, wouldn’t hurt a fly. When I walked into the locker room, he had Mickey’s hands tied behind his back and Mickey’s face was bleeding and he was crying. Duck had his camera out. He was going to take pictures to post in the girls’ locker room. I lost it. I wailed on Duck and probably would have kept on going if my baseball coach hadn’t heard the commotion and come running.”
“What happened to Dick?”
He smiled. “Duck. When Coach saw what was happening, he called the police. Duck had managed to snap a couple of pictures and because Mickey was only fourteen, Duck was arrested for child porn. His parents pulled some strings and he ended up in a juvenile facility. He never came back and I don’t know what ever happened to him.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
He nodded slowly. “Yep. Although I was praised for standing up for Mickey, I was not supposed to resort to violence. I was suspended for three days. Mickey stuck by my side for the rest of high school. I think he considered me his private security.”
She smiled. “That’s sweet.”
He smiled sadly. “Mickey was a great kid.”
Her eyes widened. “Was?”
“He had an undiagnosed heart defect. He passed away in his sleep a week before we graduated.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
They were silent for a moment and then she said, “Well, what about your happiest memory?”
He gazed at her, disguised with the blond hair and brown eyes, but still so beautiful she took his breath. He wanted to tell her it was the moment he met her. That from that day on, his life had changed. But it was too soon for declarations of undying lov…lust. “At one time, I would’ve said when I was handed my FBI badge and gun, but the day I signed with COBRA Securities was the best thing I’ve done.”
“Even though I wasn’t there, it was one of my best days, too because if you hadn’t signed with them, I might not have gotten Zoe back safely.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that. It was all Kai.”
“I came to you for help and you delivered.”
He really hadn’t done anything other than be there for her. The little ten-year-old superhero had done all the hard work. “What’s your happiest event?”
She ducked her head shyly. “When I got a phone call from a gallery that wanted to do a showing of my paintings.”
“Harlow, that’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
Red flooded her cheeks. “Thanks. It’s a small gallery in SoHo, but I love their style. Cherise, the owner, is both edgy and eclectic. Contemporary and upscale.”
“When is the showing?” He’d clear his schedule so he could fly to New York. He knew how much her painting meant to her and having a showing was a big deal.
“It’s supposed to be in a month. I thought I’d only be in Coslos for a few days and then I would be home to finalize the details, maybe paint another picture or two.”
“You will be home in plenty of time to do all those things.”
Her gaze lifted to the rowdy group outside. They didn’t show any signs of slowing down. If anything, more people had gathered. It was going to be another long night.
#
Sawyer blinked awake from a light sleep to find Duke asleep on his chest and Harlow curled against his side, her breath whispering across his neck.
Not a bad way to wake up.
Duke lifted his head and his little pink tongue came out as he scuttled forward. Dog kisses were not the ones he wanted. He subtly shook his head, not wanting to wake Harlow, but hoping Duke got the message. No such luck. His tongue scraped against the stubble Sawyer hadn’t been able to shave for days. He petted the dog to reassure him, refusing to admit even to himself how comforting the kisses were, and checked his watch. The party had lasted until the wee hours of the morning. He really hoped to be gone by now.
He needed to check in with Grant and Wyatt and see how they were doing with the Sarin gas and he needed to get Harlow and Duke safely out of La Grande, not necessarily in that order.
“What time is it?”
Harlow’s sleepy voice drifted to him. “Four in the morning.”
She rolled to her back and he took the opportunity to shift to a seated position, holding on to Duke as he lifted. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he didn’t see any people milling about. Hopefully they’d all scattered.
“I’m going to see if it’s clear so we can get out of here.”
She took Duke from his hands and cradled the pooch to her chest. Sawyer paused, wishing he could trade places with the dog. Duke licked her chin and she laughed in happiness. His heart thumped in his chest.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, he carefully made his way through the storage shed, making sure he didn’t bump into any unforeseen obstacle to give away their hiding space. Once he reached the door, he checked outside. Trash, empty bottles and offal littered the ground. It’d been quite a party. They’d left the net up and the speakers, but no one was moving around and there were no bodies passed out on the grass.
They needed to traverse the rest of the city and reach the river. He’d feel safer once they were on the other side. Though it would be away from civilization, it would also not be a target if they did manage to release any toxic gas or blow up more buildings.
Harlow was standing when he returned. “It’s clear.”
They packed up their supplies and led Duke outside, who scampered to a scraggly clump of weeds and hiked his leg. Once he was finished, they took off.
The scent of smoke was still present, but not as strong as they hurried across the field to the buildings on the other side.
“I’d kill for a shower,” Harlow said as dawn broke over the horizon.
They’d almost reached the tall buildings. The destruction wasn’t as bad here, but it was still deserted. When they crossed the road, he realized he’d been wrong. There were bodies in the streets and ruined buildings. They needed to get through as soon as possible.
Hope ignited when he spotted a small car parked on the curb several hundred feet ahead. Normally, he wouldn’t condone grand theft auto, but he’d do anything to keep Harlow and Duke safe. And hot-wiring a car was within his repertoire.
It was a little risky to use the auto. Except for the tanks that patrolled the streets, the roads were deserted. Zipping down the street in a blue Toyota would paint a target on them. But if it would get them closer to
freedom, they’d have to risk it.
Before they reached the car, a figure stepped out of a side street directly in their path. He stopped and shoved Harlow behind him.
“Sawyer, he’s just a child,” she said.
She was right. The boy couldn’t be much older than Kai. But unlike the effervescent kid back home, this one’s face was solemn, his eyes dead. That wasn’t what had Sawyer’s heart pounding.
It was the vest laced with explosives strapped to his chest.
Chapter Seventeen
“Sawyer, he’s just a child,” Harlow chastised when he shoved her behind him. The kid was probably hungry. Scared. She would be if her country was in chaos.
She peeked around Sawyer’s bulk and froze. The child was wearing a vest covered with thick gray blocks and lots of wire. His small hand was raised in the air holding what she expected was a trigger. A suicide vest.
Good Lord, who did this to a child? Armed him and told him to go out and kill people and oh, blow himself up right along with them?
Sawyer urged her backwards as he tried talking to the boy in Spanish, his voice gentle. The child made no indication he heard what Sawyer was saying.
“Would you like to pet my dog?” Sawyer was asking him as they eased further away. “He likes to play fetch.”
Which was a stretch of the truth. Hopefully in the near future, Duke would be frisky and playful, but right now, he was just getting used to having food on a regular basis.
Finally, the boy made a move. It was to dart his head to the side. Sawyer turned, picked her up and yelled, “Run!”
The ground rumbled and heat enveloped them. The blast lifted them off the ground and they flew through the air. Somehow, Sawyer managed to maneuver them so he hit the ground first, landing on his side so he didn’t crush Duke. She landed on top of him, but he was so muscular, it was almost like hitting the concrete.
And then the world went dark.
#
When the blast lifted them into the air, Sawyer’s first thought was that he had to protect Harlow, cushion her fall. The second was that he didn’t want to crush Duke. The puppy was so small and delicate. His bulk landing on the pup would most definitely kill him. The third was that the blast was so damn hot, they’d be lucky if they walked away with only singed clothes.
Hunted (COBRA Securities Book 12) Page 13