Excitement shone in the eyes so like Liam’s as she stepped forward. Grey stepped back with her hands raised in defense. She hadn’t just come face-to-face with a lover. This was worse. She’d just met more of his family and this family wasn’t the calm sort from earlier. No. This family was the high-strung, impressionable sort Grey shouldn’t be allowed near.
Grey’s lungs wouldn’t work right. She couldn’t get air. Her head buzzed. The muscles along her spine tightened, fisting around each vertebra.
“I’m gonna…go…” She pointed toward the back door as she moved away. “Air.”
She couldn’t move fast enough to get away from Liam and Gara. The introduction to his team hadn’t been easy, but it hadn’t been horrible. They were helping protect Ruby. Aside from Aidan they weren’t family. And they’d been in the hospital, which was far less personal than Liam’s home.
Meeting his sister, who wanted to make sure his parents were notified, spelled doom. Meeting his family, the family Liam had said would be Grey’s, the family Aidan had welcomed her into, was the last thing she wanted to be dealing with.
Facing Jessup again in that storage closet held more appeal.
The walls moved in, pressing closer. Closer.
“Grey! Wait!”
She ignored Liam’s call and escaped into the backyard. Lush and stunning with a zero edge pool and amazing landscaping it held no soothing powers of seclusion. The trees bordering the property seemed promising. She headed for them and kept going until she found the seclusion she’d sought.
The neighborhood’s natural foliage of giant trees dripping with moss and the soft ground that gave beneath her feet were almost as good as the beach she’d have once visited. Her chest ached as she sank down.
Running hadn’t always been an option, but she’d gotten used to it, gotten used to being ready to run even if she didn’t. Running again because she felt trapped ripped the scabs off barely covered wounds.
Humidity clung to her cold, shaking hands. Sweat dripped from her brow, but she couldn’t get warm. And she couldn’t shake the memories sticking to her tighter than her shadow.
Drawing her knees to her chest, hugging herself with her head down, she begged for merciful relief. It didn’t come. Only the memory came.
The shop’s lights were turned off, but the Matoots never left less than three hours after closing. It didn’t matter how clean the staff left the place or how perfectly they balanced the till, the couple went over it again.
Or so they always explained.
In the backroom, the Matoots were dealing with bags of cake and muffin mixes. Or she’d thought that’s what they were doing. The labels were identical to the others, with the exception of the font.
On the stainless-steel counter sat clear, tightly sealed bags of pills stamped with a one-eared rabbit. Beside the counter was a giant container of dry mix, but instead of filling the bags with the mix they were dumping them out. The pile of pill bags grew with each one.
Opal’s—she hadn’t been Grey yet—fingers shook at the sight of the latest rage on the streets. White Rabbit was the latest brand of ecstasy everyone was wanting.
Her failure to resist it had already caused too much trouble, so she found herself struggling between stepping forward, not sure what she’d say, and retreating. To her left the back door opened, deciding for her. She darted silently into the storeroom and watched from the small window. She wouldn't confront the Matoots, but if she could sneak just one pill…
Karl Jessup came in, but he wasn’t dressed like usual. Instead of khaki Dockers and a polo he wore a slick-looking suit and gold watch.
“I’m hearing things,” he said in the slow drawl of the South. “Things I don’t like.”
Mr. Matoot, wiry thin with his fifty plus years showing in the gray hairs covering his head, turned to Jessup. He wasted no time getting to the point. “We can’t take these risks any longer.”
“We had a deal,” Jessup pointed out with a daring lift to his eyebrow. His charm suddenly seemed dangerous. “I help you get your daughter into the country, and you distribute cake mixes.”
“A boy’s dead because he got his hands on one of these bags,” Mrs. Matoot cried as she dropped another bag of pills onto the pile.
“A mistake that cut into my profits, but I let whoever made it live.”
“If your drugs hadn’t been here the incident wouldn’t have happened. Now we have cops sniffing around because they found a pill in the bag. We can’t do this anymore.”
“I see.” Jessup sounded calm as he reached beneath his suit jacket.
A chill wrapped around Opal’s shoulders. It had nothing to do with the cooler temperature of the closet.
“Let me simplify things for you. You’ll continue keeping your part of the deal and get rid of the cops.” He pulled a gun and pressed it to Mrs. Matoot’s temple.
Opal’s pulse points—every one in her body—slammed against the restriction of her skin.
“Or, I will give them something to sniff.”
Mr. Matoot shook his head. “We don’t trust you. Our girl should be here by now.”
“You think I don’t keep my word?”
Mr. Matoot notched his chin higher and stepped closer to his wife. “No.”
Jessup shrugged and pulled the trigger. Opal flinched. Mrs. Matoot fell. Her blood seeped onto the lavender tile. Mr. Matoot didn’t seem to notice as he went to his knee at his wife’s side. Vomit rolled up Opal’s throat. She swallowed it and a scream when Jessup swung the gun and aimed at Mr. Matoot.
“Do you doubt me now?”
“No.” Tears streamed down Mr. Matoot’s cheeks as he looked at his wife, stroking her cheeks. Loss and sadness didn’t weigh on his tone, though. Decisiveness did. “I think you got our daughter here long ago, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you killed her to keep us in line.”
“I guess I’m out of leverage.” Jessup pulled the trigger a second time. Mr. Matoot collapsed onto Mrs. Matoot’s chest. He was still moving when Jessup bent over with his hands braced on his knees. “Your daughter is here. She’s been staying with me.”
He pulled the trigger again. Opal failed to stop the new surge of vomit, but she managed to grab an empty bucket.
Wiping her mouth with a cleaning rag, hating herself as much as she feared Jessup, she looked through the window again. Jessup was on the phone ordering someone to get their ass in gear. Then he hung up and began pulling bags of drugs out of large bags of powdered sugar that sat nearby.
He’d blackmailed and killed. Now he was cleaning up the evidence. She needed to call the police, but her phone was out front and there was no way she’d try to sneak past Jessup. She would stay hidden and wait him out. That seemed safer.
Then he looked toward the door she hid behind. She ducked and looked for cover in case he’d seen her. There was no cover, but there were several more bags of the powdered sugar.
Her heart sprinted when her legs couldn’t.
The knob turned. The door opened. Light glinted off the blade of a kitchen knife.
She should have made a run for it.
A firm hand came down on her shoulder. She screamed, grabbed at her offender and rolled, flipping him over her head. She’d scrambled several feet and stood before his voice registered. Her name.
“Grey. It’s me. Liam.” He stood but instead of approaching her he remained still and raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her breaths came in sawing gasps that burned, though each one returned a little more normalcy.
The storeroom and kitchen made way for grass and trees. The cool air in the closet became a humid breeze that failed to warm her skin or blood.
“I’m here, Grey.” Liam’s Scottish brogue deepened as he moved close and rubbed soothing circles between her shoulder blades. The gliding rhythm of his hand against her shirt was warm, and its warmth reached into her heart and eased the frenetic pace. Breathing easier, she leaned into his touch.
�
��I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” Guiding her with the lightest pressure of his fingertips, he turned her in his arms and held her close. “I’d rather you not come out here alone again.”
She felt safe with him touching her. She wanted to feel safe alone. “I can’t do this, Liam.”
She pushed away from him and stiffened her resolve along with her spine. “I can’t stay in your house and meet your family and pretend to be happily married and rely on you to keep the nightmare away at night and act like everything’s going to be okay.”
Her voice pinched at the higher octave, but she couldn’t stop. “Your sister is barely an adult, and I can’t be anywhere near her. It’s too dangerous. I’m not fit. I won’t find out what Jessup’s people might do to her if they thought it would get to me. She’s not going to be victimized because of me.”
“She’s in her mid-twenties and she isn’t staying here, so there’s no danger to her. Her cab should be here any minute.”
“You said it earlier, Liam.” Grey went on without stopping or caring that Gara was leaving. “I intend to leave. I was going to wait, play this out, but I’ve changed my mind.” She walked backward toward the house, shaking her head as she went. “I appreciate your efforts to help, but I’m leaving. Now. Don’t try to stop me.”
“Grey.”
“No, Liam. Your logic’s not going to work this time. I’ll be careful, but I’m going to suffocate if I stay in your house and hear the word ‘wife’ out of your mouth one more time.”
“Then I won’t say it.”
“You’ll be thinking it and that’s just as bad.” He could catch her easily, but she still turned and ran for the house. In the kitchen, she slammed the back door and kept going until she’d reached the bedroom closet where her bag was. After throwing the few things inside she’d pulled out, she zipped the lid closed and headed downstairs.
She made it to the garage and then to her car without seeing Liam or Gara. Her key was in the ignition and the garage door was open. Grateful not to have to fight him, she tossed the bag in the passenger seat and got behind the wheel.
Twisting the key, listening to the weak engine cough to life, she looked toward the kitchen door. He was letting her go. The freedom should thrill her, but, instead, she felt like the too-stupid-to-live horror-movie heroine who’d just run outside to check a sound.
The nightmare was coming. She may as well find her Elm Street.
Chapter Nine
Liam had changed a lot about the home Madame X had used to house her call girls. One thing he’d kept was her security system, well, except that he’d pulled the cameras out of the bathrooms and redirected the ones in the bedrooms so they were on the windows and doors only.
Standing in the control room inside the safe room, he watched Grey head through the house and braced himself against the agony of loneliness. He’d sent his baby sister to Aidan’s, fairly certain she’d call their parents with the news that should come from him, and had gone to be with Grey, to deal with whatever had scared her away. Instead of staying, she’d called it quits.
Waking alone in Vegas hurt less than watching her walk away. Hell, she hadn’t walked. She’d run. The house had never seemed so empty and he’d have sworn it creaked with sadness the farther away she pulled.
Unwilling to mourn the absence of his bride—a state of life he should view as normal—Liam flipped off the monitors he’d watched her on. Grabbing his tablet, Bluetooth and determination, he headed for the door. She’d wanted freedom, and as far as she knew he’d given it to her.
Tyler wasn’t the only one capable of using tech, and Aidan wasn’t the only one of them who had trust issues when it came to a woman. Certain Grey would make a break for it sooner or later, Liam had bugged her car and phone with a tracker. Taking it a step further, he’d bugged her with a little device Ian, the NSA’s expert listener and Kieralyn’s husband, had created a few years earlier.
The hair-thin tracker with listening capabilities could be stuck to a person’s skin or clothes with an adhesive spray. For up to a week the tagged person could be surveilled without knowing, and if the bug came off they would simply think they’d found a gray hair.
Liam had meant it when he said Grey wasn’t getting away again. A few thumb swipes and taps on his tablet proved his point as the green dot that was now Grey blipped to life on the map. His phone connected automatically to the Bluetooth in his car when he pushed the power button. He snapped the tablet into a dash dock.
His phone rang as he was backing out of the garage. “This is Burgess,” he answered.
“Mr. Burgess, sorry to bother you, but your wife is saying she’s leaving.”
Liam smiled at the idea of what must be going through Grey’s head when Mr. Lambert wouldn’t allow her to automatically pass. She had to know that a word from Liam would stop her, giving her no recourse. She didn’t know that while Liam wanted to stop her, he would listen to the advice his mother had given him many times as a teen.
If you want a girl to be yours, give her freedom. If it’s meant to be she’ll be back.
Letting Grey go, didn’t mean losing sight of her. He was curious what she would do on her own. “She’s safe. Let her go.”
“Yes, sir. Have a good evening.”
“Thank you.” Liam disconnected the call and watched the dot on his display move onto the main road as he neared the division’s entrance.
Mr. Lambert shook his head as Liam drove past with a wave. He’d had enough chats with the man to know he’d expected to see a pursuit. Fortunately, Grey didn’t know him so well.
Liam called Tyler as he drove.
“You so bored with married life you need to call me?” Tyler joked.
“I could go for some boredom right now.”
“Me too. Someone’s trying to hack my firewalls. What’s up?” Tyler brushed it aside that his system was being messed with, but the brush off was only verbal. He’d take the attack personally and work around the clock until he found the hacker.
A few miles ahead of him, Grey took an exit and made some immediate maneuvers, looping back, before getting back onto the highway. She did the same thing every few exits, each time giving Liam time to catch up. He wasn’t sure if she thought she was being followed or if she was being cautious, though he hoped it was the latter.
“Has there been any movement toward Ruby?” Liam asked.
“None that Simon has reported.”
“Can we use any of your cameras?”
“You want to clear the path?”
“I don’t love the idea, but I want to see them safe.”
“You run it by Breck?”
For Tyler, the man who’d joined the FBI after hacking them, to have an issue with pushing the limits they were getting close to a big line. “I’d rather him have deniability.”
“Aidan too?”
“Yes.” Especially Aidan. Director Quinn would expect perfection from his son-in-law-to-be.
Tyler held his thoughts for several minutes. He couldn’t be pushed into breaking the rules, at least not before he considered the consequences. Finally he asked, “Why are you asking for this?”
“I want Grey safe.”
Her green marker on his tablet made a few more back tracks. She was doing more than even he did for precaution’s sake. His heart sped. He accelerated.
“Some reason she’s not safe with you?”
Truth tasted oddly like crow. “She’s not with me.”
“Shit! How the hell did that happen?”
“Gara showed up. Grey freaked and said she was putting too many people at risk.”
“She’s worried about your family. That’s nice.”
“Except she’s family too.”
“She’s not seeing it that way.”
“Well she needs to, damn it!”
“You’re not going to win that argument with demands.” Tyler applied a data-like logic to the moment. “Or by changing the plan. For now all we need to do is keep t
hings calm and watch the sisters closely.”
“When did you become the logical one?”
“When you fell in love,” Tyler rebutted, but they both knew Tyler had always been the logical one. “Are you tracking Grey?”
“Yes. She’s heading toward the beach.”
“Call her. Ask if she’s found a place to stay and remind her not to use plastic. And Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“If you want her to completely trust you, back off a little. Call in Kami or Lana if you need to, but give Grey some space.”
The side of Liam’s nose was twitching as he hung up and called Grey. She didn’t answer so he left a voicemail with Tyler’s advice. And though he doubted it would do any good, he ended with, “Come back to the house. Gara left. You’ll be safe.”
The same pain that had stabbed him when she’d walked away returned. Dread drove him closer to recklessness. Grey’s green marker stopped at a motel near the beach.
When he caught up and parked in a lot across the street, he activated the wire on her neck. She mumbled each room number she passed, which told him which ground floor room she was in. Beach access on the back gave her two exits. Smart. He just hoped she’d listened to him about the credit card. If not, Jessup’s men, if they were around, and he had to believe they were, could easily find her.
His phone rang. “Aidan.”
“You have that huge house and are on record saying family would never be in the way there.” Not Aidan. Lana. Worse, it was Lana launching into a tirade before he could explain. “So why is your baby sister here instead of somewhere in that massive home of yours?”
“Grey left because of Gara.”
“Then she’s not the right woman for you.”
“She doesn’t want the danger following her to blow back on the wrong people. On my family.”
“Awwww. She sounds sweet.”
So sweet she kept leaving him. “So now you know why Gara is there. Share Aidan’s rare turn to host or go to your own apartment, but I have more pressing problems.”
“Your wife is throwing you off your game, Liam. You’re normally the more easygoing one.”
Taste Me Deadly (Sensory Ops) Page 8