“You really were a spy, weren’t you?” she asked. “That’s how you were able to lose him in the car last night.”
“I was a special agent,” I said in a low voice. “But that’s all I can say.”
A smile spread across her face, and she hugged me tighter. I tried to hold back the nausea that filled my head. She thought she’d hit the jackpot. Who else better to help her than a special agent of the FBI? But, if she ever found out my full story, she might never speak to me again, much less want me to help her get her son.
“So, what’s our first step?” she asked, pulling back to look up at me. I turned away then. I just couldn’t look at her like this. All the anger and the yelling and the suspicion was so much easier for me to handle than this open display of trust.
What the hell is wrong with you?
I shook my head at myself and forced my brain to focus on what was important. Right now, my conflicted feelings toward Rosie wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was getting her and her son out of Carlsville alive.
“We wait for Scooter to call,” I said. “I doubt it’ll take him long. Men like that have very little patience.”
“We just wait?” She frowned, but this time, she didn’t argue. “What do we do in the meantime?”
Her words sent a suggestive thrill through me, and I swallowed hard, moving toward the window to peer out the curtain. The sun had risen high overhead, highlighting the curving main road that sliced through the heart of the small town. The parking lots for Cracker Barrel and Shoney’s were now full, and my stomach growled.
It had been a hell of a long time since we ate.
“I’ll order us up some room service so we can have some breakfast,” I finally said, turning to face her. She now sat on the bed, and her face visibly fell at the distance I’d put between us. But I knew that right now she didn’t really want me, even if she thought she did. She wanted comfort. She wanted to escape her pain. And I wasn’t going to take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable like this.
Before she could respond, my burner phone buzzed in my pocket. Frowning, I extracted it from my jeans and glanced at the number. It was Rockford. That was surprising. He shouldn’t be calling me, and he knew it. Maybe he just wanted to see how Rosie was doing. He’d been the only reason I’d found her handler after all.
“This is Bulldog.”
Rosie’s eyebrows popped to the top of her forehead, but I turned away from her surprise. I’d have to deal with that later.
“You’ve got to get out of there,” Rockford’s voice was rushed and breathless. “That girl? Rosie Smith? Her handler put two and two together and figured out it was you that called him this morning.”
“Shit.” My pulse throbbed in my veins. “Fucking shit.”
“That whole song and dance about him coming in with a team to extract her son is just a trap. They don’t plan to get him out of there at all,” Rockford said. “The agency has a team on the way, and their orders are the same as they’ve ever been. They’re to bring you in no matter what.”
My heart went cold at his words. “Dead or alive.”
Chapter Twelve
Franklin
My head swam. The instinct to run warred with the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I’d only just met Rosie, but I couldn’t abandon her now when she needed me the most. No one was on their way to help her get her son. I was her only chance. A wanted man with a target over his head.
“How long do I have?” I barked into the phone at Rockford. He’d risked his own neck to make this call. I’d have to make it up to him one day, but right now, my mind had to zero in on what had to be done.
“Two hours, maybe.” Rockford let out a heavy sigh. “Three at most.”
“I’ll be out of here by then,” I said quietly. Behind me, I heard the bed creak as Rosie stood, clearly overhearing every word I said. “Thanks for the heads up, Rockford.”
“You can thank me by not getting caught.”
The phone clicked off, and I stood there in the quiet hotel room, taking in deep and calming breaths. This was bad any way I looked at it. There was so much I’d have to leave behind.
I’d have to toss the burner phone. Luckily, I had a couple extras in my bag. And I’d definitely have to leave behind another goddamn name. They would surely trace me to this hotel, and since I’d checked in as Franklin Snow, I’d have to abandon that identity once and for all.
Sighing, I closed my eyes as the tension built up in my chest. I’d done this before. I could do it again. I’d just never had to do it while worrying about someone else.
“Franklin?” Rosie’s voice was shaky as she spoke up from behind me. “What’s going on?”
“We have to leave,” I said. “Now.”
Avoiding her eyes, I moved to my suitcase and shoved it shut. I glanced around, eyeing up the surfaces we’d touched since we’d been here. I’d have to wipe it all down. They’d know I’d been in contact with Rosie based on my call to her handler, but there was no need to alert them of exactly how close we’d truly been.
I needed to leave zero trace of her presence behind in this room.
“Franklin, tell me what the hell is going on!” Her voice cut off at the end, and tears welled in her eyes. Shit. We didn’t have time for this. Not now. But I also knew I couldn’t expect her to come along with me with no questions asked. As much as I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and storm out of here, that wasn’t fair.
She wasn’t going to like what I had to say.
“Rosie, I need you to sit down.” I dropped my bag by the door. “There’s been a slight complication in our plan.”
“You’re freaking me out,” she said, but she still followed my instructions, perching on the edge of the king-sized bed like a fragile bird about to take flight.
“I know. I’m sorry.” I dragged a rough hand down my face and sighed. Of everything I had to do to lose the scent of the FBI, this part had to be the worst. Telling Rosie we had to leave behind her son. “I’ve just had a call from my contact at the agency, and unfortunately, your handler has zero intention of extracting Owen from Carlsville.”
Her eyes widened before a determined fury swept across her face. “I knew it. I knew that asshole wouldn’t help. I told you that, Franklin, but you wouldn’t believe me. Your FBI pals? They don’t care about anything but the mission.”
“If you want any hope of getting Owen away from Scooter Stone, you need to come with me now,” I said, holding a hand out to her.
Her eyes lit up, and she clambered up from the bed. “We’re going to get him now? Before the FBI gets here?”
My gut twisted at the hopeful expression on her face, the one I was about to make disappear. We didn’t have time to get Owen, and without a plan, some weapons, or some equipment, I couldn’t take down all of Scooter’s crew by myself. I needed resources and money, and I had neither of those things right now.
“We don’t have time. They’ll be here soon.”
“What do you mean we don’t have time?” Confusion rippled across her sweet face.
I had to lie to her now. It was the only way. What I’d tell her would have a hint of the truth but only that. If I told her the full reason why we had to run, she might not come with me. And I was afraid what she might do if I left her on her own. She’d go to Scooter, agree to any terms he might have, sacrifice herself to get her son away from the man.
I couldn’t let her do that. There was a way to save them both. It just couldn’t happen right now.
“There’s a team on its way. That much is true,” I said. “If they’re not coming for Owen, then who are they coming for?”
Her hand clutched her heart. “Me?”
I glanced away and nodded. It was such a terrible, horrible lie, I couldn’t look at her when I gave it. They weren’t coming here for Rosie. They were coming here for me.
Wordlessly, she joined me by the door. She was coming with me, just like that. I gave her a nod and tried to erase the
guilt I felt growing inside me like a dark swarm of insects, trying to tell myself that this was the only way. She had to believe she was in danger if I wanted to get her out of this town.
And in truth, she was. Just not from the FBI.
I slid my car keys into her fingers. “Go wait in the car. There are a few things I need to do in here to sweep it clean.”
“Spy stuff,” she whispered with a nod, taking my suitcase in her trembling hands. “Okay, I’ll go wait in the car.”
Once Rosie was out the door, I swept through the room to rid the surfaces of our fingerprints. My mind spun through my options as I went through the familiar movements. I’d done this so many times, it was starting to feel routine.
I needed money. I needed a place to hole up until I had a plan.
There was only one place I could turn. It was time to make the call.
“Jace Holt,” the smooth voice filtered through the cheap burner cell.
“This is Franklin,” I said quickly. “I need your help.”
Without even the slightest of pauses, Jace answered, “Tell me what it is you need.”
Quickly, I filled Jace in on what had happened. He already knew about my history with the FBI, about my billions sitting in the bank frozen and out of my reach, and about my miserable existence on the run. And yet he’d welcomed me into his life. People thought Jace Holt was a hard man, and at times he really was, but I knew there was something more to him than met the eye.
“I’ll set you up in a cabin in the Smoky Mountains about two hours from where you are now,” Jace said before pausing for a moment. “But Franklin, maybe it’s time to stop running. Confront this thing head on.”
“I’d just go straight to prison. Or worse.”
“You’d have Carrie on your side, and she’s the best damn lawyer around,” Jace said.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. “This just isn’t something a lawyer can fix.”
“Your call. But if you change your mind, let me know.”
Jace rattled off the details on how to get to the cabin. I had no idea how he’d set it up so fast, but I’d learned quickly not to ask too many questions where Jace Holt was concerned. When we hung up, I took one last glance around the hotel and steeled my shoulders. Rosie was out in the car waiting for me, believing a lie I’d told her just to get her out of this town.
I was going straight to hell.
As I turned to go, the hotel phone rang loud and clear in the quiet room. Frowning, I crossed the floor and snatched it up to my ear.
“Speak,” I said in a gruff voice.
“Who the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted into my ear.
My face screwed up into a scowl, and my grip tightened on the phone. It was that goddamn asshole, Scooter Stone.
“I’m who’s going to stop you from getting your hands on Rosie Smith.”
“Oh yeah?” He barked out a bitter laugh. “We’ll see about that. Put her on the phone.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “If you have something you want her to hear, it’s going to have to go through me.”
“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you—”
“Hanging up the phone now.” I knew how to deal with guys like this. Cut them off. Don’t rise to the bait. It worked every goddamn time.
“Wait,” he said in a rush. “Just tell her that I have her kid.”
“She’s already aware of that, you asshole.”
Scooter let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, tell her that if she wants him to go back to her mom’s, then she’s going to have to give herself up to me and my crew.”
“Not happening.” I slammed down the phone as hard as I could. I hoped the sound split his goddamn eardrum.
Chapter Thirteen
Rosie
My heart felt as if it were riding on the back of a motorbike, speeding down a bumpy road unable to do anything but cling onto my body for dear life. I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans and breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.
This was all too much for me to handle. Scooter stealing my boy. The FBI coming after me. A strange and sexy man swooping in to save my life.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head against the leather seat in Franklin’s car, dragging deep breaths of cool air in through my nose. His car smelled new and clean and crisp, like he hadn’t had it for very long. And expensive. How could a man like Franklin afford a car like this?
I also couldn’t help but wonder why he was trying so hard to help me. Any man in his right mind would just turn me over to the FBI. He’d even worked for the agency in the past. Surely he knew hiding me from them would only drag him deeper into this mess. He didn’t even know me. I was just some random girl he’d stumbled upon on a rainy night out at a bar.
One thought broke through my cloudy brain, and it was one I couldn’t ignore. Franklin had to be hiding something. I was certain of it. The way he held a guard over his eyes, and the way he spoke his words. It was as if he was hyper aware of everything he said and did.
Opening my eyes, I stared out the front windshield at the familiar road stretching away from the parking lot of the hotel. It led away from the interstate exit and into the heart of the small town where I’d spent my entire childhood. This place was my home, but being here felt claustrophobic, like if I stayed too long it would settle in around me, trap my arms and legs to the ground and never let me leave again.
I shivered.
Even though I knew Franklin might be hiding something, I had to go with him. Leaving Owen with his asshole of a father for one second longer was the last thing I wanted to do, but if the FBI was going to swoop in at any moment, it would do neither of us any good if I got caught. What would happen to Owen then? Franklin had said he’d come up with a plan to get Owen back for good just as soon as he had time to think things through. And right now, that was the only thing I had to hold onto.
The driver’s side door cracked open, and Franklin slid into the car. His face was stony, his muscles tense. Every inch of his skin rippled as he moved. My heart began to hammer hard again. Something about this guy put my whole body on edge.
“Ready?” he asked, though I could tell it wasn’t really a question. He was driving us out of here whether I was ready to leave or not.
I nodded and blinked back the tears as he pulled out of the parking lot with the nose of the car aimed toward the interstate. “Franklin, are you sure this is such a good idea?”
His jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth. “We don’t have another choice.”
“I could just turn myself in,” I said, glancing at his stony face. “Surely they won’t send me to jail for trying to get my son. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong.”
“Jail? No. You won’t go to jail.” His voice was rough as he spoke. “But you’ve put their investigation in jeopardy. They’ll take you back into witness protection, and they have no plans to extract Owen along with you. He’s with his father, who they aren’t ready to approach. If they went in now, before they have all of their evidence, it would only ruin any chance they have at getting him for his drug operation.”
All the warmth drained from my body as he spoke. Deep in my gut, I knew Franklin was right about every word he said. Coming back to Carlsville had been a terrible mistake. If I hadn’t, Owen would still be same at home with my mom. And now the FBI wanted me out of this place before I could cause more damage to their case.
Franklin eased onto the interstate, the only car on the long stretch of pavement. Overhead, the sun peeked over the towering trees that lined each side of the road. I twisted in the seat to stare at the disappearing exit for Carlsville. It felt as if I were leaving a part of me behind back there at the hotel, and I guessed I was. The only reason I’d come to Carlsville was to get my son, and now I was leaving without him. Again.
A warm hand encircled my knee, and I jerked around to stare at Franklin. My breathing became shallow, and my whole body went stiff. Even though we’d
spent the night together, he still felt like that sexy stranger who had stormed into my life. I barely knew anything about him. And yet I was drawn to him like I’d never been drawn to any other man.
“I know you’re worried about your son,” he said in a calm and steady voice. “Just trust me. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him back to you. We need to get out of here but only a little while. We’ll go someplace safe. Make a plan.”
I nodded. There was nothing else I could do. And while my head knew that Franklin was right, my heart didn’t agree. It felt wrong leaving Owen behind.
An hour later, Franklin pulled the car into a gas station to refuel the engine. We’d been running on empty for miles, but he’d insisted on pressing his foot to the pedal as long as he could. Putting as much space between us and Carlsville was his top priority, even though every mile marker made the nausea building in my throat even worse.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I said quietly.
He just gave a silent nod as I turned away. The gas station was just a tiny rundown shop with used tires piled up outside. Franklin had taken an exit and driven several miles down the road before pulling over. If the FBI followed us, he’d said, they’d check the gas stations right on the exits to see if we’d gone past. I couldn’t decide if he was the smartest man in the world or the most paranoid person alive. Maybe he was both.
Inside, the scent of stale air hit me in the face. A bearded man behind the counter raised his hand in a wave before going back to his newspaper. Heart racing, my eyes drifted down to the headlines on the front page. I couldn’t help myself. What if my face was splashed across it somehow? I was a fugitive now, after all. But it was just some story about the Tennessee Vols football team and their disappointing losing streak. My lungs released my pent-up breath. I was becoming just as paranoid as Franklin.
Taken: Saved by the Billionaire Bad Boy Page 5