by Tee O'Fallon
Not every woman liked giving oral sex, and something about her actions told him she hadn’t done it very often. The fact that she wanted to do it to him had touched something deep inside him. She’d made him feel special, and he couldn’t recall another woman having done that. Watching her do that to him had been the most erotically beautiful sexual moment he’d ever experienced.
Taking her up against the shower wall, pounding into her sweet flesh while she gripped his ass with her legs, screaming out his name when she came… Now that had been a fan-fucking-tastic way to start the morning.
“Get any sleep last night?” The corners of Dayne’s mouth lifted.
“Some.” He and Dayne were as close as brothers, but he wasn’t willing to share intimate moments of his sex life. Not even to Dayne.
“Tess is special,” Dayne added, surprising Eric. His friend wasn’t much for social chitchat, particularly where women were concerned. “Maybe you shouldn’t let her go.”
“Maybe you’re right,” he muttered, more to himself than to Dayne. It was a thought he’d begun having with increasing frequency.
“Seriously?” Dayne’s brows shot up. “I was half kidding. What about your vow of marital chastity?”
Eric stiffened. “Don’t jump the gun, bro.” He waited for the usual “marriage” panic to set in.
Profuse sweating. His balls shriveling to the size of raisins. The absolute need to haul ass out the door and never look back.
Still, he waited. Nothing’s happening.
He leaned back in his chair. Huh. If his sister could find marital bliss, and his mother had finally found the fortitude to leave their bastard father, maybe he could change, too.
Dayne continued staring. “Well, damn.”
Tiger and Remy swiveled their heads to watch Eric. Between Dayne and the two dogs, three sets of eyes looked at him as if he’d just lost his marbles.
Maybe he had.
“Gentlemen.” RAC Luis Verrone sat on the corner of his desk. “I’m sure you’ve been receiving field reports from the agents sitting on the barn and the hotel.”
“Yes, sir,” Eric replied, taking in his supervisor’s uncharacteristic attire—a dark suit and tie. “The drums haven’t budged, and the only thing Pritchard and the other two men have done since going to the hotel in Chester is grab breakfast at the diner next door. After eating, they went back to their rooms and are still there. We’ve got two teams guarding the front and rear of the hotel.”
“Any sign of Harley Gant?” Verrone’s brows lifted.
“Negative.” He’d briefed all teams to notify him immediately if the bastard showed up, and he’d texted a photo of Gant for reference. It was an old image and had been taken at quite a distance, but given how few photos there were of Gant, it was the best he had.
“What else do we know about the two men with Pritchard yesterday?” Verrone asked.
“Charles Fenway is a hotel assistant manager. James Ruffalo is an out-of-work truck driver with a suspended CDL. He lost it for smuggling contraband liquor across the border. Both men have histories of not paying their taxes.”
Verrone made a harrumph sound. “That it?”
“Both are affiliated with a loosely organized sovereign citizen chapter in Vineland.” Eric continued flipping the pages in Millie’s folder, stopping to read the men’s known associates. “Every time they get dragged into court, their stated defense is that the government was acting outside its jurisdiction by requiring them to pay taxes or license fees and that they refuse to recognize federal, state, or local laws and regulations.”
Now it was Dayne’s turn to harrumph. “Classic sovereign citizen bullshit.”
“True that.” Eric nodded. “Now that they’ve aligned themselves with Pritchard, Gant can’t be far behind. Playing with the big dogs makes them just as dangerous.”
“Maybe more so,” Dayne added. “We don’t know what Fenway and Ruffalo were capable of before hooking up with Pritchard. Pack mentality tends to give dogs a set of balls they didn’t have before. No offense, Tiger.”
Tiger flicked his ears.
Eric tossed the folder on his desk. “Then we have to assume the worst.”
Sovereign citizens had no compunction about killing police and federal agents. No one knew that better than he did. Anyone who murdered law enforcement wouldn’t bat an eyelash at killing civilians.
“I know you have a history with Gant and Pritchard.” Verrone stood and placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “I need you to keep a clear head on this. We’ve got a briefing in an hour with the SACs of the ATF, FBI, and the JTTF director. They’re coming here.”
Which explained Verrone’s business attire. He’d been afraid that was why he was wearing a suit today.
“The controlled delivery went well,” Verrone continued. “Aside from your cooperator leaving the engine running. Have you reviewed the footage the lab managed to enhance?”
“I’m about to do that right now.” He opened his email and scrolled to the one from the lab.
“Keep me informed.” Verrone turned and headed back to his office.
While Eric raised the volume on the speakers and clicked open the attached video file, Dayne came around behind Eric’s desk and leaned in.
Using the cursor, he fast-forwarded to where Tess turned into the dirt driveway to the barn. Two vehicles came into view, a white sedan and a dark blue SUV. Like the one on the street this morning. Agents had already run the vehicles, both of which were rented using counterfeit IDs in the names of people who didn’t exist.
The lab had tweaked the audio, but it wasn’t perfect. When Fenway and Ruffalo confronted Tess about her identity, the sound was still somewhat muffled. He adjusted the volume lower, then higher, struggling to find the best setting.
Pritchard entered the picture and Eric tensed, barely able to sit still. He didn’t relish watching what came next.
That sonofabitch’s sleazy hands on my woman.
The implication of his last thought wasn’t lost on him. Just as he’d never handed over a house key to a girlfriend before, he’d never—ever—thought of any woman as his. More importantly, he hadn’t wanted to.
Rain pounded the pickup, making the audio even more difficult to decipher. He and Dayne leaned in closer. They watched and listened to Tess getting grilled about her identity by the man he now knew as Fenway. Fenway didn’t trust her. That much was clear.
Another man came from the barn, walking toward the others. Pritchard.
“Don’t worry, boys,” Pritchard said. “I’ll vouch for the lady. Well, how do, Tess?”
Eric stopped breathing.
What the—
Pritchard hadn’t been anywhere near Tess when she’d told Fenway her identity, and with all the pounding rain and wind there was no way he could have heard her say her name.
So how the hell does he know it?
Pritchard tried touching Tess, but she twisted away. “All growed up and well over eighteen. I’m truly thinkin’ it’s a sign from God, us bein’ reunited. This time, I don’t even have to ask your stepdaddy’s permission.”
Eric’s mouth fell open as he looked at Dayne, whose face reflected the same shocked expression he knew was on his own. “What the fuck?” He paused the video as the enormity of Pritchard’s words hit him with the full-on force of a shotgun blast. “I asked her point blank, and she swore she didn’t know any of those men.”
“Keep going.” Dayne tipped his head to the laptop. “Maybe there’s an explanation.”
“Yeah, what?” With his teeth grinding, he clicked the play arrow.
“You’re right.” Tess thrust her chin in the air, but he could see her lower lip trembling. “You don’t need to ask his permission. You need to ask mine, and that’s not something I’ll give. Ever.”
One of the other men asked Pritchard a question, but Eric barely heard the words. All that kept repeating in his head was that Tess had lied to him.
What else is she lying about?
Pritchard grinned. “This little lady and I go way back. She was just a girl when I knew her back home. I’m sorry I missed those years. I do like ’em young.”
Eric balled his hand on the desk so tightly his knuckles whitened. Pritchard was a predator, no doubt. But Tess…well, fuck, she’d lied her pretty little ass off.
So much for an explanation.
As Pritchard continued, the shocking revelations kept worsening.
“Your stepdaddy made a promise to me, and I intend to take what’s mine.”
Some of Tess’s response was obliterated by a crack of thunder. “I’ll never be yours, and you’ll never lay a hand on me. Take the drums and let it go.”
For the next few minutes, they watched the men unload the drums from the back of the pickup and roll them into the barn, but it was Tess he could barely keep his eyes off. Rage pounded like a drum in his head, but it was nothing compared to the knife of betrayal she’d stuck straight through his pathetically gullible heart.
Tess knew damn well what this case meant to everyone, and to him personally. It was a chance to make things right. He’d poured out his story to her of that horrific day, and she’d stood there pretending to be sympathetic and caring.
His heart began to race then seemed to stop beating altogether.
Is she in league with them?
Regardless of her lies, the rational side of him didn’t believe it was possible. While he’d been assigned to Birmingham, he’d never seen her in any of Gant or Pritchard’s circles. Jesse had already told him she’d left Alabama at eighteen, which was ten years ago. Long before Gant blew up the ATF truck his friends had been in.
Jesse had also said their stepfather had “promised” her to his friend. Pritchard.
Pritchard hauled Tess against his chest. The sight of that pervert’s hands on her sickened him. When she screamed, “Let me go,” he wanted to slam his fist into Pritchard’s face. When the man trapped her in his arms, trying to kiss her, a snarl rose in Eric’s throat.
Not even the satisfying cry from Pritchard as she drove her knee into the man’s groin was enough to pierce the dark veil that had slowly but surely draped itself around Eric’s heart.
While she’d been lying her yoga-clad ass off, he’d foolishly begun to care for her and Jesse.
It was worse than that, because fuck it all to hell and back—he’d been falling for her. There it was. She might have been handing him a line of crap, but he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Not about that.
“She could still have an explanation for not telling you she knew Pritchard,” Dayne suggested.
Eric slammed the cover of the laptop closed. He doubted there was anything she could say to excuse how she’d duped his ass. “If she lied about this, what else has she been lying about? If innocent people get hurt because she’s withheld anything critical, I’ll arrest her myself for obstruction.”
“You don’t seriously believe she’d do that, do you?”
“No. I don’t know. Not anymore, anyway.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. His gut told him Tess didn’t harbor a bad bone in her body, and neither did her brother. That didn’t change the fact that she’d been fucking with him this whole time—figuratively and literally, or that his chest ached from having his heart ripped out while it was still beating.
Dayne sat on the edge of the desk. “Who’s her stepdaddy? You don’t think—”
“Yeah,” he cut his friend off. The thought was so enraging he couldn’t verbalize it. “I do. I can’t be a hundred percent certain, but I sure as fuck intend to find out.”
…
Hope.
That was the unfamiliar concept blooming in Tess’s head with the beauty and brilliance of a bright summer flower.
She stepped briskly into the empty hospital elevator and pushed the button for Jesse’s floor. The rose crystal hanging between her breasts radiated warmth and positive energy, filling her with such overwhelming optimism she couldn’t stop smiling.
It had nothing to do with a crystal. Any of her crystals. It came from Eric and the wonderful feeling he evoked in her: love.
The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors opened. She strode into the brightly lit corridor, confident that she could accomplish anything she set her mind to. For the first time since leaving Alabama, she truly believed happiness could finally be hers.
Earlier that morning, when she and Eric had been making love in the shower, she hadn’t quite believed it was possible. When he said he wanted her and Jesse to stay with him, the possibility had taken root and dug in deep.
True, he hadn’t said he loved her, but with his adamant aversion to romantic entanglements, this was a huge step for him. For her, too. His fondness for Jesse was the icing on the cake. It was obvious he cared for her brother, and Jesse had formed an instant respect for him. Since her brother wouldn’t have a criminal record after all, perhaps Eric could guide him into a law enforcement career, maybe even to a K-9 unit.
But a relationship with Eric could never be founded on lies.
As she neared Jesse’s room, she stepped lighter and walked faster, eager to talk with him about her decision.
I’m going to tell Eric everything. Today.
He would understand; she was sure of it. Whatever was happening between them was too real, too elemental. Eric was a good man, an honorable, courageous one who would understand from personal experience the horrors she’d been up against. Now, she was more certain of that than ever.
As per hospital rules, she dug into her bag and powered off her cell phone. She pushed open the door, smiling with all the joy bubbling inside her.
“Jesse,” she said, walking into the room.
The bed was empty. Fresh linens lay draped over the railing.
She looked around the room to the rolling metal table, windowsill, and bedside table. Her brother’s personal belongings were gone.
The door opened and a nurse Tess had become accustomed to seeing came in, looking surprised. “Hello.” The nurse raised her brows. “Did you forget something?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Where’s my brother?”
The nurse grabbed the chart at the foot of the bed, unclipping the sheets of paper. “I assumed you knew. He left several hours ago.”
“Left?” Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. “What do you mean? He was supposed to stay here another night.”
The nurse hooked the empty chart on the foot rail. “His father came to take him home. He assured us your brother would get all the bed rest he needed.”
His father?
Tess’s vision clouded and her heart began tripping so fast she could barely draw in a breath. It can’t be. Please, no.
“What did this man—his father—look like?” she whispered.
“Don’t you know? About six feet tall. Gray hair. Well dressed.” The nurse unfolded a white blanket. “He had the most charming southern accent.”
Tess spun and yanked open the door.
“Is everything all right?” she heard the nurse ask.
No. Everything’s not all right.
She ran to the elevator and pounded on the down button. Her body began to shake uncontrollably, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach.
This can’t be happening. But it was. God, how many times had she said that to herself over the last week?
Her stepfather had Jesse. There was no possible way her brother would have gone willingly.
When the elevator didn’t come, she ran through the corridor to the stairwell. A doctor and several nurses stared after her, but she ignored them and pushed open the heavy door.
She tore down the stairs, her flat sandals clicking on the concrete. A knot the size of a grapefruit lodged in her throat.
It was a given that Pritchard had informed her stepfather that she was in New Jersey, but if they’d found Jesse at the hospital that could only mean they’d found a way to track him.
At the ground floor, she flung her we
ight against the door, pushing it open and running out the main entrance to the parking lot, racing to her car. She dug her keys from her purse, got in, and started the engine.
A sob rose in her throat as she realized another of her mistakes. During the controlled delivery, she’d let it slip that Jesse was in the hospital with appendicitis. “How could I have been so stupid?” She might as well have given them a road map. They could have searched nearby hospitals, asking for Jesse. Privacy restrictions would have been no impediment to a man as resourceful as her stepfather.
She dug her phone from her bag, about to turn it back on, but stopped as the impact of all her mistakes became screamingly apparent.
Jesse’s cell phone.
Maybe she hadn’t turned it off in time. If her stepfather had indeed used the online app to trace the phone’s location, he could have known Jesse had been staying at Eric’s house. Even though Eric was a federal agent and was no doubt discreet about his address, with the internet it would be next to impossible to hide public records concerning property ownership. Now she was certain someone had searched her Camry.
Another frightening thought occurred to her.
What if her stepfather had been tracing the phone the entire time Jesse had been en route from Alabama to New Jersey? The apps were good enough to provide fairly accurate locational specificity. If that was the case…
Her stepfather would know her brother had been inside a federal courthouse, the meaning of which would be crystal clear: Jesse had been arrested. And both she and her brother were working with the feds. He’d be labeled a snitch.
She’d waited too long. Now Jesse’s life was in danger, along with countless other people’s lives. If her stepfather and Pritchard were both here, it could only mean one thing.
Eric was right. They really were building a bomb.
She turned on her cell phone, digging her nails into her thigh as she waited for it to power back on. When it did, two text messages from Eric popped up on the screen.
Call me. Immediately.
The second text contained the address of the ATF office. There was also a voicemail message from him. With fumbling fingers, she cued up the message and put the phone to her ear.