Nate Mason wasn’t going to know anything about Matthias or the giant mess she’d made of her life there.
Nate Mason didn’t need to know she’d spent the last eight years wondering what her life would have been like if she’d stayed.
He couldn’t ever find out about Cyan’s connection to the town of Sanctuary.
**
Nate hadn’t ever been able to figure out where the women who didn’t know who he was—and exactly how much money he had—hung out. But apparently he’d been able to find one in the middle of a situation. When he told Ben about tonight, his brother might actually laugh.
The pain in his ankle wasn’t more than a throb, but that didn’t mean anything good. He wasn’t going to heal until he had the surgery.
She didn’t look so pale, but her hair was dark brown and her eyes so dark it was hard to tell. Who was this woman? Aside from being a singer, he didn’t know a thing about her.
“Do you know what those men were talking about? Something you stole from their boss?”
She didn’t say anything; she just stared at the cold fireplace.
“They seem to think you have something of theirs, and so do I. Why else would you duck the question?” He got that they were strangers, but didn’t helping her count for anything?
Nate pulled out his phone and dialed Daire’s number. When it clicked off—Daire hated voice mail—Nate set it on the coffee table. Should he be worried that his bodyguard wasn’t picking up? Daire never didn’t answer the phone, another thing he had in common with Nate’s brother Ben. Didn’t matter what all was happening—if they were alive, they answered the phone.
If they were alive.
Nate pushed aside the morbid thoughts and glanced again at Cyan. She looked so lost he moved to sit beside her on the couch, ignoring his ankle. “Tell me what it is.” If she was in danger, didn’t she want help? She couldn’t want those men to take her to their boss. Who knew what would happen then.
Cyan shook her head, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I can’t tell you. As soon as my friend calls back, I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”
“You’re not in my hair.” He scrubbed his head. “It’s not that long.”
She didn’t smile. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re welcome to stay. I have a guest room.” He actually had four, but that wasn’t the point. “And my security system is top-notch. You’ll be safe. Until your friend calls.” While Nate would feel like he’d actually helped.
Cyan bit her lip. Finally she nodded, lifting the weight from his chest. Why did he care so much about what happened to her? This was way more than simple concern for another human being. He needed to reel it in before he lost his heart and she walked away.
Not knowing what else to do, he called Daire’s number again.
It rang and rang. “No answer.” He tossed it back on the table and ran his hands down his face.
“Maybe…could I call my friend from your phone? Mine might not have gone through.”
Like he was going to say no? He handed her the unit on the side table, his landline. “Maybe I should say sorry I barged in on your problem.” But he didn’t feel sorry.
She gifted him a small smile. “You probably saved my life, given they were about to hustle me out to their van, and the ‘boss.’” She shuddered.
Nate brushed back the dark hair that fell forward, his thumb smoothing over the apple of her cheek. She looked almost Native American. Would he ever know her full story? “I’m glad I was there to help.”
The thought of her dying senselessly, and of him never knowing why she’d been targeted tonight, would’ve been a tragedy. Nate would have never met the one woman in the world he actually wanted to sit beside on his couch—a woman who didn’t demand anything of him, and who was currently looking at his lips.
Nate swallowed and shifted forward, leaning closer to her slowly so she had time to grasp his intentions. What would it feel like to kiss her?
Cyan shifted, stopping his forward momentum. “I should…” She held up the phone. “Make that call.”
“Right. Your friend.” He moved away while she pressed buttons. The “Steve” she’d called in the car was probably her boyfriend.
She held it to her ear. Pressed more buttons. Listened.
“I don’t think I’m doing this right.” She handed it to him.
The display said No Line. Nate pressed the green button and held it to his ear. No dial tone. “It’s not working.” On the coffee table his cell phone’s display lit up, and it started to vibrate across the table. Daire O’Callahan.
“Is that your friend?”
Nate nodded to her and answered, “Yeah, Daire. You okay?”
“Daire is currently unavailable.” The voice was low and hard.
Nate’s stomach dropped.
Cyan whispered, “What is it?”
He held up one finger and said into the phone, “Where is he?”
“Uh…indisposed. Yes. That’s it.” The man’s chuckle had an edge to it that didn’t spell anything good. “You want him back?”
“Yes.”
“Then you give me the SD card. And little Miss Cyan Greene.”
The way he said her name was like a caress. Nate was not ever going to tell Cyan how it sounded, even if he could figure out how to describe the fact it made him sick just listening.
Nate said, “And if I don’t give you either?”
A shuffling came through the line then a muffled, “Tell him.”
Daire’s voice came on. “Cherry vanilla whip.”
Nate grabbed Cyan’s hand and shot off the couch. Even as he heard Daire get hit, he strode through the house pulling her behind him. The pain of each step clarified his thoughts.
The man came back on the line. “I want her!”
“You think I’m going to give her to you?” He yelled at the phone. “You want either the card or the woman, you’re going to have to go through me first.”
Nate threw the phone on the tile of his kitchen floor. It shattered across the room, and Cyan screamed. He stopped at the back door. They’d killed his landline somehow. Were they outside or had they done it remotely?
“Daire said they’re on their way here; they were tracing the phone. The only road to the house is the drive, but we can get out across the water. Keep your eyes open, just in case they’re closer than Daire thought. Okay?”
Chapter 5
Nate pulled her down the deck steps, and she stumbled on her boot heel. He didn’t slow down. The backyard was dark, but he apparently knew where he was going.
This man, a famous rich football player, had decided—for whatever reason he didn’t have time to share with her—that he was going to assign himself as her bodyguard. Who did that? People only looked out for themselves, and it wasn’t like famous people were the exception.
Maybe it was genetic.
That explained her family at least. And it might explain the correlation between this man and the other Mason brother she’d met—his brother Grant, the director of the US Marshals. He hadn’t been in that position when she was sent to Sanctuary as a child, but he’d been there when she left. He’d even tried to talk her mother out of signing them both out of the witness protection program.
But her mom had decided.
Mom had decided many things, especially about the course of Cyan’s life after she’d discovered Cyan had an ear for music and a slightly above average singing voice. The rest of her journey resulted from what happened when you took that talent and pushed it until you either broke it or got a result. Cyan hadn’t known enough about the world outside the WITSEC town she’d grown up in to be able to object. But as soon as she had, her mom had been killed.
“I see you!”
She looked back over her shoulder as they ran. One of the men from the hall pointed right at them, and gunshots boomed across the backyard. Cyan squealed and ducked.
“Run faster.” Nate’s voice was full of pain, but h
e sped up.
Cyan barely kept his pace. She nearly stumbled when the terrain changed and they were running along a pier. He stopped, crouched, and did something at the edge. “Get in.”
She felt her way down to a low-lying boat. Not the kind of boat she’d expect a rich man to have, but a small fishing boat. Did it even have a motor? Sure enough, Nate grabbed two oars. He got in and she gripped the sides while the swaying settled. He rowed. “It’s quieter.”
Cyan nodded. Could he see her face in the dark? She could barely make out his.
The men ran down the back yard with flashlights on their phones. What were they going to do with her? It wasn’t like Cyan was someone important or special. None of this made any sense. Why wouldn’t they just want the SD card? Why her, too?
“I’m sorry.”
Nate shook his head, even though she had whispered. “Shhh.”
Cyan bit her lips together, trying not to cry. She’d had enough running and hiding to last her whole life. Why did she have to go through this again? God wasn’t in the business of punishing his children, but was He chastening her? Teaching her something she couldn’t learn otherwise?
Does it have to involve my life being in danger again? And Nate, he doesn’t deserve this. She really didn’t want to whine to God about how horrible her life was. There were plenty of people in the world who had it so much worse, but the temptation to sink into selfishness was alluring.
When they were a ways from the shore, she looked back. The men were on the dock shining flashlights around. Nate shifted. He made one swift move with an accompanying grunt, and the sound of a motor rumbled across the surface of the water. The boat vibrated like it was suddenly alive. And itching to move.
The men fired at them.
Nate turned the boat in an arc. “Get your head down.”
Cyan ducked, but the bullets stopped. She looked over the side of the boat where one of the guys was yelling—the creepy guy who’d been with Mimi. She couldn’t hear his words from this distance, but he looked frantic for some reason. Why was he now with the men who were after her?
Cyan glanced at Nate. How was he still calm? She couldn’t call the one person she knew would know what to do. The only way they communicated was through letters, but Jonathan had been a friend and mentor, even a pastor of sorts, for years. If she’d ever truly needed his counsel, it was now.
What were they going to do? She couldn’t run and hide with a famous guy. Anyone who didn’t recognize Nate might recognize her from her brief foray into country music. They were pretty much doomed and so was Daire.
Cyan shifted so she was lower in the boat and looked up at the stars. Why did this always happen to her? She’d wanted a change in her life, but this? No way. Not what she had in mind.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes drifted closed. Nate must not have heard her over the noise of the boat engine, because he didn’t say anything. But she was still sorry.
She had ruined his life, and he didn’t even know why.
**
The boat tapped against the dock and Nate winced. He didn’t want to wake up Cyan. Yes, she was sleeping. The first couple of deep breaths—he wasn’t going to call it snoring—he’d halfway thought she was faking it. When it evened out to the refreshing slumber of someone who was flat-out exhausted, he’d changed his mind. She was really asleep.
Cyan exhaled, stretching her arms above her head. “Wow.”
Nate passed by her to get out. “You should keep your voice down. I don’t think they followed us, but we can’t be sure.”
She whispered back, “That’s the best nap I’ve had in years.” Cyan shifted up to look over the edge while he tied the lines. It’d been maybe fifteen minutes since they left his house and headed upriver. It fenced them in, but he didn’t want to go toward open waters. Especially if that was where the men chasing them would assume they’d go.
He glanced up at the yellow lights peeking between old curtains in the ramshackle little house. Hopefully coming here was a good idea.
Nate held his hand out, and Cyan placed her smaller one in it. As he pulled her out, the calluses on her fingertips ran across the palm of his hand. Nate ran his thumb across the callus on her index finger.
“Guitar.”
He nodded.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He glanced from her hand up to her face, lit by the glow of the moonlight. “I’m not.”
That was the weird thing. He’d been there tonight as a favor to his brother, because Daire had to work and protect Nate at the same time—like he was a kid who couldn’t be alone. But after meeting Cyan, and being the one to keep her safe…he realized there wasn’t anything else he’d have rather done with his night than be right here. Everything else seemed sort of pointless.
Kind of like his life.
But that wasn’t a problem he could solve right now, so he said, “You fell asleep.”
“You’re not tired? It’s the middle of the night.”
No matter how tired he was, adrenaline had him wide awake. Evidently it had the opposite effect on Cyan. “Someone with a gun is after you, and you just curl up and fall asleep?”
Cyan chuckled under her breath. “Drove my mom nuts, too.”
He stopped. “Because…someone has chased after you with a gun…before?”
She glanced around. “So where are we?”
Totally brushed him off just like he’d done with her question about his foot. Nate didn’t like being brushed off, but it wasn’t like she had to tell him right now. He’d barely met this woman. Despite that indiscernible connection between them, he needed to remember they were basically strangers. He still wanted to know her story, though.
Nate pointed toward the lights. “House belongs to a friend of mine.” Sort of. It was also the only house on the river where he could land safely. If he was a praying man, he’d add that it would be great if they could have a vehicle from here to escape by road.
Without letting go of her hand, Nate walked toward the house.
“So, Mr. Rich football player. What’s with the old fishing boat?”
“Belongs to the man who lives here. I borrowed it a couple of weeks ago, since it’s less conspicuous to fish out of that than out of a thirty foot yacht. Not that you could get a yacht this far upriver.” He stopped talking, realizing the words were spilling from his mouth. Was he trying to justify the boat or his having money?
Cyan squeezed his hand. Probably reciprocating the fact he’d allowed her to keep her secrets. Nate didn’t have much he wasn’t happy to share; it just wasn’t all that impressive outside what everyone knew. He played football, and his brothers saved the world. In the grand scheme of things Nate wasn’t particularly remarkable.
“The men at my house…they were the same men from the hall, right?”
Cyan nodded. “Plus the creepy guy that was with Mimi in the office.”
All of a sudden they’d teamed up? Daire had better be getting answers to all this while he was being held hostage.
Nate squeezed her hand this time. “I’m not going to let them get you, but I need you to tell me.” He paused. “Do you have an SD card?”
She moved closer to him, her elbow brushing the outside of his arm. “Yes.”
Nate blew out a breath. “What does it have on it?”
“Pictures. Files. Evidence.” She was shaking, despite the fact it wasn’t cold. “I need to give it to my friend. That’s all I can tell you.”
“I need to get us somewhere safe, and I need to make a phone call. That’s it.” If this was big, and if Daire really was in danger despite indicating he didn’t need help, Nate could admit this was bigger than he could fix.
“What about your friend? How will we get him back? I can’t give them the SD card.”
“Daire can take care of himself.”
“We’re not going to try and help him some other way?”
Nate shook his head. “That was part of what he said. Cherry vanilla whip.”
She jerked. “What?”
Nate chuckled. “It’s a code. Everything is fine with me, you’re in danger. They’re on their way, close. That’s the whip part.”
“Huh.”
A dark-dressed figure stepped out in front of them. “Stupidest code I’ve ever heard.”
Nate relaxed a split second before the unmistakable shape of a shot gun was lifted and pointed at them. “It’s Nate.”
“You bring my boat back?”
Nate nearly laughed. “Yeah, Boomer. No bullet holes, thankfully.”
“Your date not going so well?”
Nate said, “It’s not a date. But there is someone after us.”
Boomer turned away. “What you standing out here for, then? March.”
They followed Boomer up the hill. As they walked, Cyan leaned in closer and whispered, “Is he okay?”
“Yes,” Nate whispered back, a smile pulling at his mouth.
He didn’t have the chance to explain that was a gray area. When it came down to the person who wanted the SD card—who was probably torturing Daire, even now while they were walking—versus Boomer, Nate would take Boomer as the better option. Not safer, just more advisable.
As an aging Vietnam vet, Boomer got the nickname during his days as one of the first Navy SEALs. The former frogman had an uncanny ability with explosives. Nate had seen it first-hand with fish, even though he’d never admit it scared the pants off him.
“You need the truck?”
Nate glanced at Boomer’s back where he strode ahead of them. “I’ll give you something for it. Buy it from you.”
“I don’t need your money, hotshot.”
Nate wanted to apologize for insulting a man who was essentially a friend, albeit in a weird way. “I’ll bring it back. But if there’s any damage, I’m paying for it.”
Boomer circled the house to where he kept the truck under an awning. “Fair deal.” He stopped and looked between them. “Phone?”
Nate held his empty hands, palms up, and Cyan did the same.
“There’s an untraceable phone and a loaded pistol in the glove box.” Boomer started to walk away. “Keys are in the visor.”
Team Love on the Run Box-Set #1 Page 21