by Regan Black
Amelia’s phone lit up without a sound. “You’re on speaker,” she said once she’d answered.
“You’re clear,” Ben reported. “UI sniper. Pretty sure he was alone.”
“I’ll help you search,” John said, standing.
“Me too.” Scott stood as well and held out a hand to Jaime, inordinately relieved when she accepted his assist. Most women would have called the cops and been done with him by now. “We can’t take any chances on a repeat of that.”
He left his door open as he shoved his feet into his boots and pulled a dark sweatshirt over his head. In the hallway, he heard the two women talking.
“They knew what route you were taking home,” Amelia was saying to Jaime. “There’s a reason they aimed Scott at you.”
Scott winced at Amelia’s phrasing and hurried back out to the hallway. “I wouldn’t have killed you.” Though she kept saying she believed him, he couldn’t restrain the urge to reassure her.
“Apparently the UI guys suspected as much,” Jaime said. Her smile was weak, but he appreciated the effort.
“Most likely the agent Ben found was an overwatch precaution,” John said to Amelia. He turned to Scott and Jaime adding, “As we’ve said, UI does full background sweeps. Finding a place like this, within reach, means a cleanup protocol was in effect. They posted the shooter, usually one, for the sole purpose of killing any mission survivors.”
“Let us work on that background stuff while you two clear the area,” Amelia said. “Be safe.” She kissed John’s cheek.
John pulled her into his arms. “Count on it,” he murmured, taking the kiss deeper.
Glancing to Jaime, Scott let his instinct take over. Tipping up her chin, he gave her room to duck his kiss. She didn’t. Her smoldering gaze, filled with desire, was like a match to dry tinder. “Move into my room.”
Her lips tilted at one corner and one eyebrow arched, slipping under the fringe of her hair. She understood what he hadn’t said, what they both wanted. He refused to ignore this riveting electricity arcing between them. Life was unpredictable. He’d never believed in wasting an opportunity and that natural inclination had only been exaggerated by this situation. Soaking up the view of her lips colored with his kisses, he followed John down the stairs.
John gave him a radio and a nine millimeter Glock, loaded, with two additional magazines. They divided the ranch into search areas with Ben and then they were moving. Outside, the cold air nipped his cheeks and hands, but he didn’t care. He’d be warm soon enough when he was in bed with Jaime.
He and John moved away from the house, each step measured and planned to minimize their time in the open. “I know why they took you,” John said. “Whatever we find out here tonight, you’d better hope Amelia can figure out why UI wants Jaime out of the picture.”
“Or what?”
“Or they’ll never stop coming for either one of you.”
He was sure he could lose the UI bastards on a reservation or in the Canadian wilderness. Doing so would be a challenge, but not much of a life. And the idea of Jaime being hunted indefinitely was more chilling than the Montana winter air slipping under his collar and down his back.
He couldn’t claim to know her well, but he wanted the chance, if she was willing. Even if she wasn’t, he wanted to be able to believe she was living a full life on her terms.
Lost in thought as he made his circuit of the search area, he almost missed the first signs of sloppiness. Back behind the bunkhouse, trash had recently been put out to the delight of local wildlife. Raccoons, he realized, recognizing the clear tracks in the wet earth where the snow had been cleared from the path. The food and wrappers left behind couldn’t be more than a day or two old.
He used his radio to signal John with a couple of clicks and then eased his way inside. At first, it appeared abandoned. Maybe the trash had come from hikers passing through. Jaime had told them the property had gone unused for some time.
Then he caught the odor of gun oil underneath the scents of stale fast food. Someone had been here, waiting for them. Just the one sniper or were they dealing with a team to keep a sight on Jaime around the clock?
Scott sensed the trouble before it plowed through the door in the form of a man charging him. He scrambled backward and barely ducked the ham-sized fist swinging toward his temple. Rolling over the floor, he bounded to his feet behind the man, kicked him forward and then raced out of the bunkhouse and straight for the mountains, hoping the brute would follow him.
Scott’s hope was fulfilled, but not as he’d anticipated. The larger man moved with the speed of a galloping horse, quickly catching up, passing him, and turning to charge again.
“What the hell?” Scott’s kidney kick alone should’ve left the man writhing in pain on the bunkhouse floor. To run like this? It was unnatural.
“Can’t escape me,” the brute said, lunging for him.
Scott let him have the takedown. He wouldn’t beat this guy with speed, but he might have a chance if he took the easy options away.
He twisted and got his knees into the bigger man’s gut, flipping him up and over his head. The brute didn’t stay down. On all fours, he charged Scott again, this time like a bull toward the red flag.
Scott held his ground, waiting for the perfect opening and put all his strength behind an elbow strike to the man’s jaw. The bigger man collapsed in a heap, out cold. He’d be a snowdrift in a couple of hours if the weather and wind kept up.
“You found a weakness.” Ben’s voice came out of nowhere, clearly impressed, though he wasn’t visible. “I was about to give you a hand.”
“What do we do with him now?” Scott asked. “How could he move that fast?”
John walked up from the opposite direction. “We could let the elements have him,” he replied to the first question, ignored the second.
“All sorts of hungry critters in the mountains,” Ben suggested.
“Or we could run him and his partner out of town,” John said. “Make it clear that Blackwell’s off limits.”
“Would that be enough to keep Jaime safe?” Scott asked.
“You should be more worried about yourself, man,” Ben said. “Way I figure it, they would’ve killed her, and pinned the bullet and blame on you.”
“He’s right.” John swore. “You’re not showing enough compliance despite the grave ultimatum Messenger gave you.”
“Local girl, celebrity really,” Ben mused. “It’d be an instant manhunt. Could be fun.”
“Fun?” Scott gawked in the direction of the disembodied voice. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours.” Ben allowed himself to become visible. “Probably they’d just stage a murder-suicide scene. They like that one.” He handed a cell phone to John. “Sniper’s phone so Amelia can check if he called in your arrival.” He kicked the downed man with the toe of his boot, before he knelt to search him. “Nothing on this guy.”
John swore. “We’ll come back and search for it in the morning. Need any help getting him out of here?” he asked Ben.
“Nah, I’m good.” Ben stood up and slowly faded into nothingness. “I doubt they’d leave too many resources in the area, but you realize you still have a tracker problem?”
“I do,” John muttered. The man on the ground groaned as the invisible Ben picked up his feet and started dragging him away.
“What problem?” Scott asked, hustling to catch up as John stalked toward the bunk house.
John slanted a look at him. “Even if your tracker is disabled, UI knows where those agents were last. Plus the phones they carry are linked to the system as well. I don’t feel good about leaving you on your own until we can be sure yours is offline.”
“How do we do that?”
John’s shoes crunched through the snow. “I’m working on it.”
Chapter 8
By the time Jaime had the window covered with plastic sheeting and her essentials moved into Scott’s room, she was too exhausted and wired for sleep. She’d feel guil
ty even attempting to sleep while three men were combing her property for a sniper aiming at her.
Amelia had interviewed her as she’d helped with the temporary repair and Jaime hoped to never be on the receiving end of that kind of conversation again. In truth, she had no idea what Amelia could possibly dig up from the recesses of her life. She didn’t see any place where she’d crossed paths with either an enemy or agent of this bizarre Unknown Identities group.
Until Scott.
Him she wanted to cross paths with in a much different manner.
She and Amelia had drawn all the curtains around the house, blocking out the view of anyone else who might be lurking with deadly intent. Still, she couldn’t help peeking out the window in the room she now shared with Scott, wishing they would get some word from the men out searching.
“I should have gone with them,” she murmured, letting the curtain fall back.
“John would have said no.” Amelia stood in the doorway, her closed laptop tucked at her elbow. “He wanted someone here with me, and he wanted me to get to the bottom of UI’s interest in you.”
She’d like that too. “Did you find anything?”
“UI has tentacles that slither into just about everything, but no, I can’t find a direct link between you or any known agents.”
Jaime sighed. “And that leaves us where?” She had a few weeks off, but she didn’t intend to stop living her life.
“Neither one of us will sleep before they come back,” Amelia said, knowingly. “Why don’t we go have some tea? You can add whiskey to yours for both of us.”
That made Jaime smile as she followed Amelia downstairs.
“You’re a relatively public figure,” Amelia said as they waited for the kettle to boil.
“Maybe in certain circles.”
“You were expected to win your last competition,” Amelia said. “It was news when you didn’t.”
“I’m aware,” Jaime grumbled.
They sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the surface nicked and scratched from years of service at the center of family gatherings. Amelia opened her laptop and adjusted her glasses. “Your schedule is fairly public on your website and across social media. It didn’t take me long to figure out you come home every time you have more than a week between events.”
“Okay.” Jaime squirmed in the chair. Apparently she’d led them into a trap. “Home is Bozeman, though.”
“Your long bio mentions growing up in Eagle Rock.”
She’d have another chat with her publicity team. It was a fine line between giving potential clients and fans enough access to keep them happy and having a safe personal life.
“I’m almost certain you were targeted because you’re convenient,” Amelia stated. “Predictable patterns and, if attacked, you’d likely provide resistance.”
“So I was a test?”
“Pretty much.” Amelia tapped her pursed lips. “Ordering your death gives the program a great deal of information and insight on Scott. If you posed a challenge, put up a fight, they would have gained even more information.”
Jaime stifled the exasperated groan. “You found the self-defense story.”
Amelia nodded again. “It’s public record, practically urban legend considering how old you were and who attacked you.”
In a blink she was back in that fraught moment. The senator’s son had suffered grand delusions of his value to the world, especially women. He’d been lurking around the convention center venue during a national Taekwondo competition, bragging and leering in turns.
At seventeen she was the defending champion in her class and headed for the Olympic team. He’d come after her at the end of the day as she’d left the locker room. Not content with verbal harassment, he’d gone off the deep end and attacked, vowing to rape and maim as he tried to drag her through the service area to his waiting car. Jaime glanced down at her hands, the scars from her defensive wounds were almost too faint to see after all this time. His face still showed up in her nightmares once in a while.
“If he hadn’t pulled the knife, I’d probably be in jail for manslaughter,” Jaime said. She could still feel her foot connecting with his sternum, sending him through the air like a rag doll, his head cracking open against a brick when he landed. “His attorneys nearly convinced everyone I was a walking weapon, a bomb ready to blow again at any moment.”
“The opposite is true of good martial arts champions,” Amelia noted.
“True,” Jaime agreed. It had been an uphill battle proving that in court. “I didn’t want to compete anymore, not like that. My family helped me find a new direction with the target shooting and the national teams eventually came around again looking for coaches.” Cold fingers of fear danced down her spine. “There’s no way to get any of that off the internet?”
Amelia shook her head. “Consider it permanent, though it isn’t the first thing that shows up in a search on your name.”
“Any chance retirement would help? I was considering it anyway.” She rubbed at her recovering arm.
The redhead smiled. “John will suggest faking your death. And Scott’s.”
“And what happens then? We just hide out and never go anywhere again?”
“Some people do that,” Amelia admitted. “For a time. You aren’t wanted by anyone other than UI, so it could work. John and I have been on the move for years. It does get old.” She pressed a hand to her belly.
“How far along are you?” Jaime asked. “It’s in your face, that sweet twinkle in your eye in spite of the chaos.”
“About ten weeks,” Amelia said, eyes dancing with happiness. “Staying a step ahead of UI, moving constantly with a baby is less than ideal.”
A life looking over her shoulder wasn’t Jaime’s ideal either. She had too much family, too many friends, to walk away and play dead.
“Think about what you need,” Amelia said. “And we’ll come up with something.”
Right now all she could think about were the men she barely knew trudging around outside to root out a sniper working on nothing more than the whim of a stranger. “If this was a test for Scott, why try to shoot me?”
“Assassination is the go-to move when they’ve been burned,” Amelia said. “They’re cleaning up loose ends.”
“What will happen to his friends?”
“It’s hard to say,” Amelia admitted.
“So this will never be over. They’ll keep coming at me no matter what?”
“I won’t lie to you.” Amelia laced her fingers and sat forward. “Life could suck that much.”
“Or?”
“Or we make a stand and send UI a clear warning and an ultimatum of our own. John and I have been discussing it for a while, considering strategies and plans.”
“Any progress?”
“Not until we got out here.” Amelia smiled again. “There’s so much space, no one could sneak up on us. With the right property and the right team, we’d have a place to keep those who want out of the UI program safe through the transition. What the program does to good people is unthinkable and the results are often unpredictable.”
“It’s a great place to raise a family,” Jaime said. “No matter where I travel, it’s home.”
Amelia smiled.
“What’s your end goal?” she asked.
“John and I are determined to keep UI from ruining more lives and careers like they did to John and Ben and Scott. There’s a retired sailor out here who might give us some insight and possibly an assist in our effort to protect Scott and you.”
“Hank Patterson? The retired SEAL?”
“You know him?”
“I know of him. It’s a small town. I’d suggested Scott talk to him before we met you,” she said. “Local boy turned military hero. Came back home again and started a business.”
“A personal security business,” Amelia stated. “You might consider his services.”
Jaime was still pondering the idea of needing personal securit
y when John and Scott finally returned. The relief washed through her, chased by a sizzling warmth that started in her belly and radiated outward as Scott’s eyes met hers. Other than being cold, both men seemed healthy, whole, and confident the area was clear.
For now.
Ben returned a few minutes later and insisted on keeping watch through the night, claiming an invisible guard was better than visible, tired, and pregnant types combined. His odd humor lightened the mood as they headed upstairs to try and sleep.
“Ben’s growing on me,” Jaime said. She and Scott were alone in the guest room and the immediate intimacy suddenly felt like one challenge too many. They’d shared a motel room last night, but desire hummed in her bloodstream, a tingling need to share something much more personal.
“He’s interesting,” Scott agreed. “I can take the floor.” On the opposite side of the bed, he reached for a pillow.
“I wish you’d kiss me again.” Heat flooded her cheeks after blurting out that bold declaration. She was grateful for the low light from the lamp on the nightstand.
With measured strides, Scott crossed the room, stopping just out of reach. “I keep expecting you to come to your senses.”
“I’m not sure sense has anything to do with this.” The honesty was just bubbling over tonight. His expression clouded, his straight eyebrows flexing down over his straight nose. Her fingertips tingled. She wanted to smooth away that scowl and kiss him until they were breathless, mindless, and free. She wanted to create a place where how they met and why didn’t matter, a place where the future was irrelevant and they were the only two who existed. “Kiss me.”
*
Scott was staring at a miracle. Or a mirage. He touched the fringe of her hair with a fingertip, half expecting her to dissolve with a shimmer. He’d had so much bad luck lately, so many months plagued with confusion, fear, and disbelief that he hesitated to trust in this.
She didn’t dissolve, she leaned in, her breath soft and warm against his chilled skin. So real. True. He wrapped his arms around her and set his mouth to hers, so sure he could take it slow and easy.
He’d never been more wrong. Her tongue slid over his and the kiss spiraled out of his control, heat pulsing through his veins with every sigh and touch. Clothing scattered amid hot kisses and hotter explorations. Her fingers and lips traced his tattoos and his scars with equal parts sensual curiosity and attentiveness. When her body was bare to him he thought he’d never seen anything as beautiful as Jaime. Her nipples pebbled with a only a look and she arched, her hands keeping him close when he drew that sensitive flesh into his mouth, teasing her with his teeth and tongue. Her skin impossibly soft, her supple curves pressed against him, she was a taste of heaven he’d given up on knowing.