by Tee O'Fallon
“Tess!”
Eric strode purposefully into the waiting room. Abandoning her bag on the chair, she jumped up and threw herself in his arms. She’d never been a crier, but to her horror, she started bawling like an infant and couldn’t keep those damn rivers from gushing out of her eyes. Someone had cranked opened the tap, and she couldn’t turn it off.
He held her for a solid minute while her body wracked with sobs, and with each passing moment a little bit of her loneliness and helplessness faded. His mere presence was enough to accomplish that.
He makes me feel safe. He makes me feel…
Things I shouldn’t.
“Shh,” he whispered against her hair, holding her tighter against his body. “Whatever’s wrong with him, we’ll deal with it.”
We’ll deal with it? What did that mean?
The only time there’d ever been a we in her life since her mother died had been before she’d fled Alabama. It had been her and Jesse against the world. Since then, no one had ever constituted a we, as in, someone who would be there for her.
A man who actually cares.
She let out a long sigh.
He tipped her chin up and kissed her forehead. “Okay?”
She sniffled, meeting his gaze through her teary one. “O-okay.”
“You’re not alone, Tess.” Gently, he pressed her head against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around her again, allowing his warmth to seep into her chilled body.
Dare I actually trust his words? She wanted to. More than anything. It felt so right to be in his arms.
The hem of her floral tank top had ridden up, and something sharp bit into the tender flesh at her waist—the front sights of the .40 caliber Glock holstered on his belt. His government-issued weapon might as well have been a ten-foot-tall neon street sign, blinking with the words: Tess McTavish is a naive fool.
No matter the warm and fuzzy scenario her mind had ridiculously conjured up, such thoughts were futile. She and her brother were who they were, and Eric would always be what he was. An ATF agent. A man who would eventually dig deep enough to unearth her ugly secrets.
Reluctantly, she pulled away to find him watching her, his eyes filled with concern. Ironic how she wanted to laugh at the mussy way his hair stuck out. He’d been raking his fingers through it again, the way she was becoming accustomed to seeing whenever he was frustrated.
“Let’s sit down.” He urged her back to the row of chairs and sat next to her. “Have they told you anything yet?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve been waiting over an hour.”
“Let me see what I can do.” He rose and disappeared around a corner.
She was going crazy not knowing, and if Eric had the ability to get answers sooner rather than later, she’d be grateful for the expeditious assistance. A minute later, he returned with a doctor and a nurse in tow.
Amazing what the power of a badge can do.
The doctor was tall, yet Eric towered over him by a good two inches. His skin was the color of dark chocolate, and his eyes were a similar shade. His nametag indicated he was Dr. Thomas Pierce.
“Miss McTavish.” When Dr. Pierce stopped in front of her, she stood, wringing her hands. The doctor frowned, and her heart sank. One look at the tightness of Eric’s jaw confirmed there was bad news coming. “Your brother’s condition is quite serious. He has a ruptured appendix and needs immediate surgery. It’s bad, but I think we caught it in time. We’re prepping him now.”
“Oh, no.” The waiting room wavered before her eyes. Eric’s arm came around her shoulders as he eased her onto the chair and sat beside her again. “He’s all I have,” she whispered. “I can’t lose him. He can’t die. He can’t.”
Eric gave her shoulders a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “The doctors here are the best in the state. I’ll stay here with you. I promise.”
“Miss McTavish?” the nurse standing next to Dr. Pierce said. A clipboard appeared in front of her face, and she automatically took it. “You must be Jesse’s sister. The resemblance is obvious.” She smiled. “We need you to fill out a few forms. The main thing we need is your brother’s medical history, especially any allergic reactions to medications. And, of course, his insurance information.”
“Do you know his medical history?” Eric asked, his voice low and soothing.
“No.” She looked up at him, feeling utterly helpless. “I-I don’t think he has any allergies.”
“What about insurance?” the nurse prodded.
The question had her looking away, because that question, she could answer, unequivocally.
Their stepfather didn’t believe in medical insurance. When they were children, their needs had been taken care of in-house, and on the rare occasion someone needed to see a doctor, their stepfather paid in cash. Always. Because insurance companies wanted information, and he didn’t believe in providing anyone with more information than absolutely necessary. He always said it was another government ploy to track a person’s location and levy more taxes on them.
Insurance cost money, and neither she nor Jesse had insurance or money. They had no way of paying for Jesse’s surgery. Will they deny him surgery if I can’t pay for it? They wouldn’t do that. Would they? Somehow, she’d find a way to get the money, even if she had to sell her car. Her old Camry wasn’t worth much. A few hundred dollars perhaps, and surgery plus aftercare and antibiotics would more than break her meager bank.
It will obliterate it.
“I’m sorry.” She looked desperately from the nurse to the doctor, then back to the nurse. The clipboard shook in her unsteady hands. “I—neither of us—has insurance.”
“Let’s worry about that later. You can send a check when you’re ready,” the nurse suggested in a sympathetic tone, although from the look on her face, the woman knew she and Jesse were broke.
“I can’t—” Fresh tears dropped onto the clipboard, leaving damp blotches on the paper.
“I’ll take care of it.” Eric took the clipboard from her hands, then began filling out the credit card portion of the form. When she opened her mouth to object, he stopped her, resting a hand over hers and looking at her in a way that made her heart melt. “I’ve got this.”
Knowing there was no other way, she gave in and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.” Someday.
Barely able to focus, she filled out the rest of the forms, entering as much personal information about Jesse as possible, which wasn’t much. His date of birth, and for his address, she put down the same church her brother had previously provided to Eric. It was bogus, in that Jesse had never actually lived there. Sooner or later, Eric would figure that out. For now, he didn’t question it.
She put herself down as his only next of kin. That much was true. Their stepfather hadn’t legally adopted either of them, so she really was Jesse’s only living relative.
Eric took the form to the desk, then came back and held out his hand. “Would you like to see him before they take him upstairs to surgery? They’ve given him something for the pain, but he’s still conscious.”
Nodding emphatically, she placed her hand in his and grabbed her bag. His big hand engulfed hers, and she held on tightly. He was a lifeline she was unaccustomed to, and for the first time since leaving Alabama, she allowed someone else to help her.
As they rounded the curtain of the ER cubicle, the first thing that struck her was the paleness of Jesse’s complexion. With their red hair and green eyes, she and her brother had naturally pale skin, but this was paler than pale. His cheeks were pasty white.
“Tessie,” he whispered, lifting an unsteady hand to her, which she clasped.
“I’ll wait outside for you.” Eric released her hand, resting it briefly on Jesse’s shoulder. “I’ll see you when you wake up.”
When he turned to leave, Jesse let go of her hand, reaching out to grab Eric’s wrist. “No. Stay. Please,” he added, then dropped his hand and shut his eyes, as if the effort had sapped every ounce of his
remaining strength. His eyes flickered. “Take care of her.”
As if knowing exactly what her brother needed to hear, Eric clasped Jesse’s hand. “You got it.”
Something passed between Eric and her brother. An unspoken understanding.
“Can you bring Tiger for a visit tomorrow?” Jesse whispered hopefully.
Eric gave her brother a grim smile. “I’ll make it happen.”
“The operating room is ready,” Dr. Pierce said as he joined them. “If things go well—and we have no reason to believe they won’t—you can go home in a couple of days, perhaps even tomorrow evening. After that, you’ll need to take it easy for two to four weeks, then you’ll be as good as new.”
An orderly tugged the curtain aside, then lifted the bed rails to their upright position and began wheeling Jesse into the hall to the elevators. As they followed, she glanced at Eric’s profile. His jaw was clenched, and a muscle in his cheek flexed, and she understood why.
The meaning of the doctor’s words held more than just her brother’s prognosis. The prognosis was a bitter reality they were facing.
There was no possible way her brother could do the controlled delivery. Which meant he couldn’t work off his pending charges, and—
The same thought she’d had over and over in the last two days kept repeating itself: This can’t be happening.
She swallowed at the only obvious outcome.
He would have to go to jail.
…
Hours later, Eric paced outside the hospital, waiting for Tess. Tiger walked beside him as he led his dog to the small grassy area adjacent to the visitors’ parking lot.
He dragged his hand through his hair, knowing every strand had to be sticking straight up at this point.
Woof.
Lamppost light lit up his dog’s dark, almond-shaped eyes, casting them in a freaky golden hue that made him look possessed by the devil.
“Yeah, I know, boy.” He rested his hand on Tiger’s head, allowing the soothing properties of his dog to flow through him, but it wasn’t working so much tonight. “You like him, too, don’t you?”
Tiger uttered a gentle bark. His dog might not understand the words, but he knew Eric was mulling over something heavy.
Even with the air conditioning on the entire time, Tiger had been cooped up in the Interceptor for too long, so Eric unclipped the leash, giving his dog free rein to do his stuff.
As they made their way back to his SUV, an engine rumbled, and Dayne’s Interceptor pulled up alongside him. The window rolled down. “He out of surgery?”
Eric nodded. He’d already updated Dayne on Jesse’s prognosis, and the fact that the kid would be completely out of action for at least another 24 to 48 hours, then taking it easy for several weeks.
“Everything went fine, but he’s running a low fever. I’m waiting on Tess. She wanted to be there when he came out of it.”
“Glad to hear he’ll be okay,” Dayne said.
“Yeah, me, too.”
“I hate to dump more shit on the pile.” Dayne blew out a heavy breath then tipped his head to where Tess was coming through the ER doors and walking toward them. “The Helena, Montana PD confirmed that the theft of explosives was a legitimate theft, not just some that went missing or was misplaced. Someone broke into the bunker and made off with Domox and Trimadet. No leads.”
“Great.” Not. “At this point, we have to assume they’ve got two out of the three bomb components they need.”
Eric opened the rear door of his SUV and waited for Tiger to trot over and hop inside. The night air was cooler than before, and he left the door open, resting his hand on Tiger’s neck. “Whoever is expecting to take delivery of the drums will only take delivery from Jesse. They have a photo of the kid to verify his identity, and they’re planning on peppering him with questions that only he’ll know the answers to. Swapping him out for an undercover agent won’t work.”
“With Jesse out of commission, are we fucked?” From his friend’s tone, he understood the question was pitched to kick-start a brainstorming session, because it wasn’t in either of their natures to give up.
“Maybe,” he answered truthfully. “We’ll just have to figure out a way to unfuck it.”
“I know a way,” Tess said, joining them and reaching out to give Tiger a sound petting. Eric didn’t like the determined look in her eyes. “I’ll take Jesse’s place. I’ll do the delivery.”
He stiffened. Tiger instantly went on alert. A low growl came from the back of his throat as he stuck his head out the open door, searching for whatever had made Eric edgy.
“Easy, boy,” he said to his dog, turning back to Tess. “No way.”
“Why not?” She planted her hands on her slim hips. “I’ve already thought this through, and I have a plan.”
“You have a plan?” he shouted, not caring when several hospital visitors waiting by the doors turned to listen. There was no way he’d let her do something so dangerous. Having Jesse do it was bad enough, but the kid had a criminal charge to work off. Tess didn’t. Although he had to admire that her love for her brother ran deep enough that she didn’t hesitate to put herself in harm’s way for him. He lowered his voice then got in her face. “You’re not doing the delivery. I won’t let you.”
“I am, and you will.” That look of determination in her eyes seemed to magnify by a hundred. “It’s the only way you have to find out who’s building this bomb. If you don’t, hundreds could die. I know you can’t live with that, and neither can I.” She crossed her arms. “Jesse isn’t physically capable of working off his charges, so I’ll do it for him. Then we’ll be out of your house, out of your hair, and you can continue with your investigation and arrest these people.”
“How, exactly”—he mimicked her by crossing his arms—“do you plan to pass scrutiny?” He dropped his gaze to her feet, then ran it back up to her face. “Because there’s no way you could ever pass for a man. Not even if these people are legally blind.”
“I’m not planning on passing for anyone. I’ll go as myself.” She moved closer, craning her neck to look up at him, and as she did, he inhaled her spicy, flowery scent. “Like the nurse said, the resemblance between us is so obvious there’s no mistaking we’re closely related. Any questions they ask me about Alabama, I can probably answer.”
“Probably? At the risk of repeating myself,” he gritted out, “no.”
“Are there any undercover agents that not only look like Jesse, but can answer questions about Alabama that only my brother or I can answer? Because that’s what they’ll have to know. Considering all that, do you have a better idea?”
No. But he’d sooner cut off his left nut than admit it.
She smiled knowingly. “I didn’t think so.”
Unable to open his mouth without exacerbating the situation, he could only stare. The irrational and untimely urge to kiss her flared hotly in his gut, and it took all his willpower not to. Christ, the woman had more spunk and guts than was good for her.
“You know,” Dayne interjected, stroking his jaw, “it’s not a half-assed bad plan.”
Eric glared at his friend. The only reason he didn’t tell Dayne to butt out of this was because he was right. Without Tess’s help, they had nothing, and they’d lose the opportunity to deliver the drums and take down the entire network behind it.
This time, he raked both hands through his hair. All signs pointed to sovereign citizens and, with the Alabama connection, to Harley Gant. So, what the fuck’s wrong with me?
Not that long ago, his only thought would have been to nail Gant for killing his friends. Now that he had an opportunity to do just that and prevent a disaster in the making, all he could think about was Tess getting hurt.
As much as it killed him, he didn’t see any good alternative. Knowing full well that they could protect her as well as they would have protected Jesse didn’t make him feel any better. It sucked royally, but he had a professional and ethical obligation to take her up
on her offer. Even if he refused, his agency would overrule him. Too many lives were at stake to turn down an opportunity that could salvage the operation.
“Fine.” He clenched his jaw. “But you’ll do everything the way I tell you to. Everything and without fail. Understand?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Part of him had actually hoped his high-handed, dictatorial delivery would piss her off enough that she’d change her mind. Now, he realized he’d only stoked the fire. Regardless, she was doing it for her brother, and he admired her for it. She didn’t seem frightened in the slightest. He, however, was scared to death.
As he locked gazes with her fiery green one, something took root in his brain and in his heart, something sharp and painful that dug in and refused to let go. If anything happened to her because he agreed to this cockamamie plan, he didn’t know what he’d do, because dammit, he cared about her.
Get real, buddy.
He more than cared about her. How much more, he wanted to find out, something that couldn’t happen if she were dead.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Tess woke to something cold and wet nuzzling her cheek and warm breath fanning her face. A rumbly huff blasted by her ear, and she jerked fully awake.
Tiger’s almond-shaped eyes stared at her. The dog cracked its jaws, smiling in that way only dogs could.
“Morning, Tiger.” She propped herself on one elbow and clasped the sides of his furry face to give him a sound scratching.
She yawned. Worry over Jesse’s condition and the delivery today had tied her in knots, and she’d tossed and turned for hours before falling asleep.
What if there were post-surgical complications? Eric had paid upfront for Jesse’s hospital stay, but how could she afford all his follow-up care? And the controlled delivery… Could she really do it without screwing it up?
She curled her fingers around the edge of the sheet. I can do this. I can do this.