by Geri Krotow
As if they’d simmered, untended, for the twelve years they’d spent apart.
The wind whipped her hair around the Jeep’s front seat. She found a tie in her pocket and fastened a ponytail.
“I like your hair this long.” Josh’s compliment was his way of changing the subject and no doubt the focus of his concern to the present.
“Thanks.”
Josh pulled off onto an area designated for Appalachian hikers, and they hopped out of the Jeep. Annie grabbed her backpack and slipped into it. She was already in hiking boots and clothing, as she’d changed at the station.
“Thanks for pulling your supplies together so quickly.” Josh was next to her, fastening the buckles on his pack. She met his gaze and wondered if he could read her heart. Did he know she’d fallen in love with him?
“No problem. All I care about is the tent you brought—I’m not an ‘under-the-stars’ girl, not with the snakes and bears around here.”
Josh laughed. “The snakes aren’t going to bother you, for the most part. Only two kinds are poisonous, rattlers and copperheads, and they avoid humans. Black snakes are more the norm. As for bears—if a bear shows up, no thin nylon tent will protect you.”
“Thanks. That makes me question my sanity to willingly sleep in the middle of bear country.”
“Ah, no worries. Just steer clear of any cubs and mamas.”
“That’s reassuring. I may stay up all night.” They would be awake, she knew, on watch for the women. They were being sent their exact locations by an undercover TH agent who stayed near them. The part of the Appalachian Trail they were on abutted Valensky’s compound only a quarter of a mile away. “It doesn’t look like rain, so we’ll be okay on the ground, right?”
“Not sure. See those silver-gray clouds, over that hill? They might mean rain, especially as this breeze picks up. It’s dropping the temp.” Josh had his pack on and looked at her with raised brows. “Ready?”
“Lead on.”
“I want you to go first, Annie. You won’t be able to see around me if I’m in front. We’ll follow these white symbols.” He pointed at the first one, on a brown marker nailed to a tree.
“Okay.” She loved the crunch of leaves and twigs under her thickly treaded soles. And she loved being with Josh in the beautiful setting even more.
“Are you really okay with Becky staying in her apartment?”
“Of course not. I want to be there guarding her every move. But that’s not putting my faith in her, is it? And besides, those men turned out to be Valensky’s hired thugs. They’re still not talking, but each of them work at the pawnshop. It’ll come out that he sent them to shake her up. Enough to send me a warning.”
“You don’t think they were going to take her, do you?”
“No. If I did, you know I wouldn’t be here.”
“And you’re certain they’re not related to ROC, right? Whoever Valensky works for there, anyway.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Valensky wishes he was a big part of the ROC. He’s handling a huge op for them with these women, but it’s a one-off. Since his falling-out with them years ago, he’s merely a point person for them down here.”
She grimaced. “He insisted I call him Vadim at his place. He is so gross.”
“I hate that you were in his presence again, Annie.”
“Hate that you weren’t there, or you’re worried about me, too?” She stopped in the middle of the path, a stretch that cut through a horse farm. The AT turned into a ladder that straddled the fence, so nothing separated the hikers from the horses. It was just her, Josh and two chestnut mares munching on grass several feet from them. “I missed this. I forgot about how amazing this part of the trail is.”
“The trail itself or the horses?” Josh evened up to her and she felt his body heat. They were both working up a good sweat. Something she liked to do with Josh. Too much.
“Both. All of it.” She sighed. No more pretending it was sex only, or a casual relationship. And Josh deserved to know how she felt, but no matter how beautiful their surroundings, she wasn’t about to share her deepest feelings in the middle of her first undercover op.
She turned to continue the hike, but Josh’s hand on her arm stopped her. “Look at me, Annie.”
She complied and a thrill shot through her, as it always did when their gazes connected. Their bond was palpable and joy rushed over her, in the midst of all the turmoil of a lethal op.
“Josh.”
“You don’t have to know what tomorrow will bring for you and me, as a couple, you know. We can take it as it comes.” His voice was gravelly as he cupped her face. Annie couldn’t help it; she turned her face into his palm and nuzzled it.
“You smell so good.”
“It’s just the laundry soap I used. I washed all my camping clothes, including these gloves, before I packed. Annie. Aw, hell.” He stepped fully in front of her and lifted her chin. She didn’t resist as he lowered his lips to hers.
It was a kiss of connection and a way to communicate, to let one another know they were still in sync, that they were in this together. The scent of his musk was heavy in the air, and she wondered if her sweat smelled as good to him. He tasted of toothpaste and himself, the texture of his teeth smooth and his tongue insistent as he clasped her face in his hands and thoroughly kissed her. Annie reveled in it, the warmth of their breath, the moist sexiness of the contact in such a raw natural setting.
They both moved to deepen the embrace at the same time, but their camping backpacks didn’t cooperate and Annie almost ended up on her butt. Josh held her forearms as they both laughed.
“This isn’t going to work.” She grinned at him, but her hormones were anything but feeling silly. The insistent pounding in her center needed satisfying, and if it weren’t for them being so out in the open, in the middle of the field, she’d have no problem showing Josh how she felt in full view of their equine companions.
Josh’s expression looked as frustrated as she felt, but a little more apologetic. “Sorry. I meant to save that for later, under the stars.”
“I’ll be in my tent, thank you very much.”
“About two tents—yours won’t be necessary unless you insist. My tent is big enough for both of us.”
“Aren’t we supposed to be working, watching for anything unusual once we get to the campsite? There won’t be time for this.” She tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s keep going. I don’t want to have to set up camp without full daylight.”
Josh’s grumbles followed her into a dirt path that wound through a forest and across two creeks. Annie never thought of herself as a camper or even a hiker, but with Josh, it seemed like everything else they’d done together: natural.
Chapter 15
By the time Annie and Josh made it to the campsite and set up the tents, the sun slid into late afternoon. Situated in the middle of at least six other groups of hikers, she took stock of their surroundings.
“Seems we’ve come across a camping convention.” She spoke quietly, not wanting their fellow campers to hear as they heated up soup on the portable butane stove Josh had carried.
“It’s the busiest time of year on the AT. Check them all out. If any seem out of place, tell me,” Josh replied, as though they were discussing how to cook dinner and not the possibility of rescuing women from the indescribable horror of sex slavery.
“You mean more than me, the city girl?”
She immediately regretted her words. Josh’s expression sobered. “You miss it, don’t you? New York.”
“I miss being able to go out at any hour of the day, or my day, at least—I’m a night owl—and get a decent cup of coffee or fresh-baked roll. I miss having regular work, not that it’s totally predictable but I do up to four clinic hours per day, so that’s pretty routine. I miss some of my colleagues, yet I know if I was there I’d still b
e knee-deep in my funk over Rick’s death. But no, I don’t miss the city as much as I thought I would.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Annie. You’ve been feeling your pain on his death all along, if you ask me. Coming here doesn’t mean you ran from your grief, or what he meant to you.”
“Thank you.” She hardly trusted herself to speak without sobbing. “This is a big reason I’ve been so happy here this time around. You.”
“If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else.” His face was closed, defensive. “Don’t you think you’d miss it a lot after the newness of Silver Valley wears off?”
She twisted her mouth into a scowl for his benefit. “You know, Josh, you sound like you want to believe that will happen. Have you forgotten that I grew up here, just like you? And my reasons for staying away weren’t all that you might think they were. It wasn’t because I didn’t still love Silver Valley. My work had taken me elsewhere.” She still didn’t want to tell him about the job offer with TH. But was it him or herself she was afraid of disappointing if she didn’t take it?
“I think I’ve made a mistake, Annie.” His serious tone, completely out of sync with what they’d been sharing, sent a frisson of warning down her spine.
“Oh?”
“I’m sending you mixed messages. Or the completely wrong message. As much as I’m happy when we’re together—”
“Oh, no, Joshua Avery. Hold it right there. You are not giving me the ‘it isn’t you, it’s me’ speech again.” He’d said the same thing right after their first failed attempt at having sex after senior prom. He’d not wanted to try again, he’d been so embarrassed. She’d been just as mortified, thinking she didn’t turn him on. “When we were kids was one thing—we didn’t have the life experience to handle a sexual relationship. We’re adults.”
“Will you give me a damn minute, Annie?” Hands on his hips, he stared at her as annoyance marked his face. “What I’m trying to say is that I never, ever want to hurt you. You’re all I ever could hope for in a woman, but I’m not the guy that’s going to hold you back from your goals. Your dreams.” Her stomach sank at his words, spoken as if he needed to let her down gently. It was more like a kick to the teeth.
“That sounds like a nice kiss-off line, Josh.”
“It’s not meant that way.”
“You’re still upset about Becky being assaulted. We were having a good time together when she was so vulnerable. It’s natural for you to doubt your judgment in spending time with me while she was facing danger. And maybe you’ve got some guilt over us taking time from the case to make love. But don’t put it on me, on what we’ve shared.”
“I never want to have to tell you Becky comes first, Annie.”
“Then don’t. Put yourself first. You deserve a life, too, you know. What the hell kind of brother are you to her if you only do what works for her? She needs to see that you know how to take care of yourself, too. It’s the best way to teach a child. By example.”
“Becky’s not my child, and she’s obviously able to care for herself, enough anyhow.” His grim expression made her ache to take him in her arms.
“If she were completely independent, you wouldn’t be so worried.” Annie shut the burner off as the soup was boiling. “This will need to cool a bit. I have a little something extra to have with it.” She turned away, needing the break from the intensity of their interaction as much as her grumbling stomach needed food. A small packet of gourmet cheese and sleeve of water crackers was calling to her. A tiny jar of tapenade and a large apple completed her appetizer selections.
Josh eyed the spread of goodies and frowned. “Did you bring food like this for the next several days? Your pack has to weigh as much as you do.”
“No, I figured that if we run out of food we’re close enough to hike back to the Jeep and reload.” She’d left a cooler chock-full of nonperishables, without the ice.
“We’re not done with our conversation, Annie.” He took the apple and opened his Swiss army knife to the paring blade. “I can’t have loose ends with things, and that includes us.”
“Why do there have to be any ties to worry about? I thought we were enjoying this while we can. I’m not going to try to make you commit to something more than you want.” Did he think she was going to make him agree to a more permanent arrangement before she decided to move back to Silver Valley? Any regret she had over not telling him she loved him back in the glen dissolved. When was she going to learn to put herself, her heart, first?
“It’s not about what I want, Annie. It hasn’t been about me since my parents died.”
“Have you ever allowed yourself to consider that you’d benefit from having someone to lean on, besides yourself?”
“Sure. But then the complications that can happen with Becky, and my job, outweigh any good I have to offer a life partner.”
“Is that what happened with your previous girlfriends?”
“Girlfriend. I’ve dated enough, but I’ve only had one long-term girlfriend. And when we broke up, it hurt Becky for a long while.” Annie wondered how long he’d hurt but didn’t want to pry. Not here. Not now.
He shot a quick grin at her. “You’re dying to know, aren’t you?”
“What? Your past? None of my business.” And she meant it. She loved him for who he was, today. A stubborn mule.
“We dated for two years, lived together for two. Four years of wondering when we’d tie the knot. And then—” He broke off.
“You broke it off because of Becky?”
Josh snapped back to the present. “No. She found another guy, one without any added complications.”
“I’m sorry, Josh.” She regretted his hurt but rejoiced that they were together now.
“Don’t be. It saved me from all kinds of hurt later, is how I look at it. And while it did upset Becky, it would have been a mistake to marry anyone. I’m a man with a tough career, and it’s bad enough that Becky has to deal with what could be the consequences of it. She didn’t have a choice.”
Annie didn’t think she had a choice about how she felt about Josh, but wasn’t ready to broach it with him now. They were on a stakeout, which she’d quickly forgotten about. She forgot about a lot of things that she’d always thought were so important when she was around Josh.
The sound of footsteps caught her attention, and she looked up from the beef and vegetable soup. A group of five women were huddled together as they cautiously moved to the area farthest from where the other campers were cooking and making conversation. They appeared skittish, not relaxed and enjoying nature like the other campers.
“Josh, do you—”
“Yeah. Didn’t you say you had to go to the bathroom?” He didn’t have to tell her twice. She put down the small spoon and wiped her hands on her pants.
“Don’t burn dinner, dear.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, in case anyone was watching them. No one would suspect two average-looking hikers of being on the lookout for trafficked women, would they?
* * *
He watched Annie head toward the group of women, watched how her hips swayed and forced his focus to remain on their objective. Stop the women from reaching Valensky.
How had it happened that since he and Annie had been teens, quaint Silver Valley had turned into a hub of criminal activity? His mind knew the right answers. Silver Valley was centrally located, making it a center point for legitimate logistics. The same interstates used by manufacturers to send forth their wares also worked for the bad guys, bringing in opportunists from pyramid business schemers to drug traffickers who laundered their money at the big department stores on the Silver Valley main pike. But like his relationship with Annie, he hated to see what he’d thought of as perfect ever change.
He and Annie had an incredible bond, a connection that he knew would still be there in fifty years. He had no explanation
for it. But it didn’t mean he could take it for granted by asking Annie for more than their time together now. He had nothing to give her but a lot of hours and days apart.
She deserved so much more.
* * *
Annie heard the women speaking Russian and from what she understood, conversationally, these women were friends and able to communicate in monosyllables, probably to avoid drawing attention to speaking in a foreign language. There were five women, all of varying heights but all very slim and very young. She’d place them around fifteen, sixteen, but knew with a little makeup they’d look a decade older. The sadness she imagined in their eyes reflected old, abused souls. Their journey here had to have been harrowing once they discovered they weren’t going to be nannies or legitimately paid workers.
None of them were dressed for the heat. Their clothing was almost like a uniform: tight blue jeans with some kind of decorative rhinestones, high-heeled black boots, sleeveless tank tops. Most had some kind of thin jacket, which was good, as the nights grew cold. It was as if they’d literally flown in from their native country a day or two ago and found themselves on an American campout.
Annie pulled a small plastic bag of toilet paper from her pocket, slowly and quietly so as not to draw attention to herself. She’d never known the poverty or despair that probably drove these women to make a choice to leave their families and native country for the unknown, but she understood feeling lost. The ferocity of her compassion for their situation was like what she’d experienced when she’d heard that Becky had been approached by Valensky’s thugs. An instinctive, protective urge.
The women paid her little notice as she headed for a private place in the woods to take care of business. They were doing the same, using shrubbery or outcroppings for privacy. She noted they were definitely not observing the rules of the Appalachian Trail to take out anything you carried in—they tossed wadded toilet paper and paper towels like popcorn to birds. More confirmation that they had the right group of women. Annie lingered near the rock and bushes and waited, out of sight, to see if she’d hear anything useful. The conversations were mostly unintelligible, as the women spoke so low and in a tone that indicated trouble. Until one of the girls let out a high-pitched squeak, followed by shushes from the others.