by C. A. Szarek
He scanned the woods behind his new temporary home. No movement there now. He’d seen a rabbit or two the other day. Rowdy whirled around, looking at his truck, which was parked inside the small gated area around the cabin. His gaze followed the fence all the way down the long driveway. At least he would see someone coming long before they got up to the cabin itself.
The gate and fences were made of rough logs and some of them needed attention. Maybe he could help the old lady with maintenance around the place. Rowdy needed to do something, or he’d go stir-crazy.
He puffed out air to see his breath. His nose burned, it was so cold. Damn. The jacket he’d bought was down, and kept him warm, but his jeans weren’t keeping his ass and thighs from freezing. The air moved right through the denim.
Maybe he should get a dog. He hadn’t had one since he was a kid, and the general store had massive bags of dog food.
Rowdy wrenched the cabin door open and slid inside. The wood stove was going strong and the heat enveloped him. The place already looked messy and lived in. His stuff was all over the place. He’d bought new clothes as well as bedding and supplies for living in what he considered close enough to be the Arctic.
He shed his jacket and hung it on the coat tree the old lady had given him.
An unfamiliar ring sounded and it took his brain a few seconds to catch up.
His new burner phone. There was only one person with the number.
Rowdy dove to the end table right inside the room’s door, next to the rustic couch. He hadn’t taken his phone outside for his property recon.
The little table shook with the force, but he closed his fingers around the phone before the second ring ended with the barest glimpse at the screen.
“Cami, what’s up?” His heart hammered when the response wasn’t immediate. Something was wrong—he’d told her not to call unless it was an emergency.
“Camille is so much prettier than Cami, doncha think?”
The familiar voice froze Rowdy’s blood. Tremors chased each other down his spine, and his heart plummeted to his gut and stayed there. “Where the fuck is my sister?”
The phone number on the caller-ID had been Cami’s landline. In her apartment.
Carter laughed. “Mystery solved, thanks.”
Rowdy swallowed and gripped the phone so tight his fingers burned, shooting pain over his knuckles. “If you hurt them, I’ll kill you.”
His former teammate’s laugh was maniacal this time. “Oh, really? If you intended to face me, why have you been running from me for months?”
“I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You.” His whole body began to shake. He was days—maybe more than a week with the snow—away from Phoenix.
Rowdy couldn’t get back easily. There was no airport close to him, and he didn’t have a valid ID to fly, not legally anyway. Panic rose and took a bite. Helpless.
“Oh, the way you greet an old friend, Eric.”
“Fuck you, Carter.”
“No thanks. But your sister, on the other hand… She’s a hot little piece of ass. So, maybe. Definite possibility there.”
“If you touch her—”
“And just who’s gonna stop me? You’re not in Phoenix anymore.” Carter’s laughter filled the airway again, like the dickhead was having the time of his life. “Just where are you, my old friend?”
Rowdy sucked in a breath and hoped like hell the murderer hadn’t heard him. How did Carter know he wasn’t there anymore? And how the fuck had he found Cami?
“A doctor, huh? Handy to have one of those in the family. How come you been hiding her all these years?” the guy said.
His head spun. He didn’t have anything to say, so Rowdy didn’t answer. He knew the asshole well, and if he begged for Cami’s life, Carter would kill her with a smile on his face.
What about Devon? Would the bastard leave his nephew alone?
“Are you there, Rowdy? What’s wrong? You’re not very talkative.” This had a pouty edge, like the asshole was five.
“Where are you?” he managed to get out.
“What d’you mean? Didn’t you recognize the phone number? I’m at Cami’s place, of course.” His voice was bright, like he’d just shared the best news ever.
Rowdy crushed his eyes shut. “Where’s my sister?” His voice broke. Broken was pretty on par for how he was feeling, but he didn’t need Carter to know how freaked the fuck out he was.
“Oh, no worries. Cami and I will have a fab evening when she gets home.”
“No.”
“Oh, yes, I have so much fun planned. Thanks for the dough, too. It took a long time to count. I had to make myself a sandwich.” The fucker whistled. “I gotta say, two hundred thou, well, you’re a very generous brother.”
“I’m coming for you. I’m going to tear you limb from limb. Cut your balls off and feed them to you.”
Carter laughed again, as if Rowdy had delighted him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” His tone was the opposite of the previous glee, now deadly serious.
“Oh, I’ll have no problem keeping it,” Rowdy snarled.
“Bring it.” The asshat took an audible breath. “We’ll have a blast waiting for you.” This was said in that light, happy tone he’d carried for most of the conversation.
Then the line went dead.
Rowdy dropped the phone and went to stomp it, but he stopped himself. This number was the only one Cami had. The only way she could get a hold of him.
“Cami!” he shouted. He quickly dialed her cell number. Voicemail. “Fuck!” The second and third call also went right to her recorded message.
“You’ve reached Dr. Camille Bonner. I’m unavailable at the moment. If this is a medical emergency…”
“Yeah, yeah, hurry.” He gestured with his hand, as his sister droned on to call nine-one-one and she’d return the call, even the “Have a Blessed Day.” His nerves pretty much had free rein over his body and Rowdy didn’t give a fuck that he was alone and no one could see him.
The beep took forever and he sucked in another breath so he could talk. “Cami. Don’t go home. Do. Not. Go. Home. Get Devon and get the fuck out of town. I mean it. Call me as soon as you get this, but please God, don’t go—”
A loud beep cut him off and the phone hung up, like his message was too long.
He dialed her number again.
“I’m sorry. The voicemail box for the person you’re trying to call is full. Please try your call again later.”
The phone went dead again.
“Fuuuuuuckk!” Rowdy jumped up and down since he couldn’t shoot or stab something, as much as he pictured doing that very thing to Carter’s smug face.
He glanced over his shoulder. It was almost six. If Cami was off rounds, she’d be on her way home after picking Devon up right now, which could be why she hadn’t answered.
Rowdy dialed her number again, and when he got the same message, his eyes actually teared up.
Carter would get to his sister and he was too far away to act.
His nightmare was coming true.
It’s all my fault.
He clenched his jaw until pain jolted up and down into his teeth. Rowdy stared at his multifaceted reflection in the cracked mirror hanging outside the little cabin’s bathroom.
There was only one thing he could do now.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The sun crested over the horizon, and Taylor slowed her furious pace, breathing in the crisp April air so it burned her lungs and watered her eyes. A glance at her watch told her it was barely seven.
She let her gaze scan the residential area that was so opposite to where she lived in downtown Dallas. Peaceful, not a car moving. Not even any people. Road noise outside her apartment windows was the norm—Dallas never stopped, even on a Sunday morning.
Shannon liked to run in the morning, too. Last night, he’d told her they could go to the track at the high school, which was open to the public during certain hours.
I should have wai
ted for him.
She just…couldn’t.
She’d had to get out. Breathe.
This was her third weekend banned from work. Like last time, Baker had let her work all day Friday.
Her third weekend in Antioch. With Shannon. In his arms, in his bed.
Like the previous two weekends, she’d sought him out.
Taylor felt…everything, and it was killing her.
She’d had to get away from him, even for a little while. She’d head back to his place soon, where she’d snuck out of his bed over an hour ago. Taylor didn’t know the total distance she’d run, but she’d pretty much memorized all the houses on his block—and the three surrounding it. She’d run the whole area three times.
The harder she’d thought—the harder she’d felt—the faster Taylor had made her legs move, until her glutes were going to revolt. Or, worse, she’d tear a hamstring or a ligament in her knee.
Emotion is weak.
Her head spun. No matter how many times she repeated her father’s favorite saying, her head rejected it now.
Get real, at least with yourself. It’s not your head that has issues.
She slowed to a jog, avoiding Shannon’s street one more time. Taylor would do another round of the street behind his, then head back.
Right?
No choice.
It wasn’t like she could leave, with all her crap in his house. She’d left her keys inside intentionally, in case cowardice took too big of a bite to resist pulling an escape. The idea of heading back to Dallas hurt somehow.
He’d been asleep when she’d dug out from her duffel yoga pants and a running shirt that was supposed to help regulate her body temp. She’d stared at his naked form with every article of clothing she’d pulled on.
Shannon had been lying on his side, his comforter half around him, and half over him. One powerful thigh had been exposed, and part of his fabulous ass had been visible.
His dark hair had been mussed, sticking up and out, a chaos that was contradictory to his peaceful sleep, but endearing. One muscular arm had been over the blanket, as if he’d been too warm with her beside him.
Taylor had forbidden herself from going around to the other side of the bed to see his face. Her feet had carried her there anyway, and she’d studied him, so gorgeous in repose it had taken her breath.
She hadn’t needed to touch him to feel him. She could remember every second of their time together, and not just this weekend.
Every caress, every kiss. Every stroke of his body moving over hers.
It was burned into her brain.
And it was a problem.
More than a problem.
She no longer saw John’s deep brown eyes when she closed her own. Taylor saw amber ones.
It made her feel guilty as hell.
Rounding the corner, she took a deep breath that had nothing to do with physical exertion. Her body was pretty much warmed down. Her workout was done and she was at a walk now. Her legs and even her hips throbbed.
Taylor stared down the street. Shannon’s house was only three or four away now, yet her steps slowed even more. Her renegade heart, on the other hand, flipped her off and sped up, as if she was still at a full run.
Figures.
A part of her wanted—needed—to see him. The other part wanted to say Fuck it all and hotwire the Charger. Hightail it back to Dallas.
Heh, that’d be a great report.
“Why exactly did you hotwire your government-issue vehicle?” She could hear Baker’s voice in her head.
Taylor rolled her eyes at herself.
She’d never been a fan of playing coward, and today wasn’t an exception. She quickened her step. Made herself imagine walking back into Shannon’s room. Even crawling back into his bed. Although, a shower first might be good—
Her cell phone rang and she jumped before she could mount the first step to his front porch. She actually screeched her startle aloud, then growled at herself.
Seriously?
Surprise washed over her when she glanced at the screen. It wasn’t Shannon, whom she’d half-assumed it would be.
“Hey, Holman, what’s up?” Taylor said by way of greeting.
“Oh, hey. I expected voicemail. I didn’t wake you?” Her partner’s voice was familiar, pleasant, and helped her focus. For the time being, anyway.
“Nah, I was out for a run.”
“Damn, you really never do take it easy, huh?”
Taylor paused. Yes, she did, if hot sex all night for the last two nights counted. Not like she’d explain that to Alec Holman.
“Carrigan?”
She jolted, then cursed herself for only the fifteenth time in the last hour. Maybe the non-answer had taken up too much time.
“I’m here. What’s wrong? You calling me on a Sunday before eight a.m., when Baker won’t let me work, isn’t good.”
“Well, it’s good and bad, actually. And you can definitely work this time.”
“Yeah?”
“We got something. A big something. Rowdy Vargas called me.”
Taylor blinked. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t have heard him right. Her heart slid into overdrive, and it had nothing to do with her lover. “Wh-wh-what?”
He chuckled. “Wow, I made you stutter. Never thought I’d see that, or hear it, as it were.”
“Bite me. Details, now.” Taylor’s command was hard and she gestured with her hand, even though her partner couldn’t see her.
“We can chat at the airport.”
“Airport?”
“Yeah, we need to go to Phoenix. Can you meet me at DFW in about thirty-five?”
She did the math in her head. It would be an hour or more to get to Irving, where Dallas-Fort Worth Airport was. That was if she left this second. And Shannon… Her heart skipped. “Actually…I—”
“You’re not in Dallas, are you?”
Taylor closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know how much her partner knew about her weekend getaways. Nothing she’d told him, for damn sure. “No.” The word came out in a whisper, and she cringed.
“No biggie. Get there when you can. Text you flight info. The Phoenix office is covering for us until we get there.”
“What are we walking into?” Her gut clenched, as if anticipating the worst.
“Vargas told me where his sister is. Here’s the kicker—Bennett’s in Phoenix, too.”
“Shit.”
“I know. Be safe, see you soon.”
“Not so fast, tell me everything. Now.”
He laughed again. “I knew I wouldn’t get away with knowing something you didn’t.”
She didn’t rise to his barb. Her silence was cue enough for him to finish, and she didn’t have to wait for her partner to get her up to speed.
Too bad what they knew didn’t make her feel any better.
Holman ended the call and Taylor stared at the screen of her phone, then thumbed it clean, wiping away her face-print and the moisture from her sweat-damp hair.
Her heart thundered all over again. Bennett was finally in reach, they just had to find him. She swallowed, looking up when she heard the door close.
Shannon padded toward her, feet bare, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans that made Taylor’s libido light up. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a smile on his handsome face. His dimple was on display, too.
She’d expected him to be cross with her for taking off, but his expression was open. Eager to see her, no admonition in sight.
Taylor wanted to run up the four steps and throw her arms around him. Press her mouth to his and beg him to take her back to bed. Apologize for leaving him. Make love to him again. Shower in his arms afterward, and whittle the day away enveloped in him.
But now she didn’t have time. She legitimately had to go—work called, literally. Taylor had never been torn over work before, and she didn’t like the taste it left in her mouth.
She had to tell him, but she didn’t want to shatter that pa
rticular look on his face. Not before she kissed him one more time.
Taylor closed the distance between them and stood on tiptoes to press her mouth to Shannon’s. It was a quick thing that made him grin when she pulled away, but that only washed pangs of regret over her whole body.
“Morning, sweets.”
“It’s too chilly out here for no shirt and no socks or shoes.” What the hell did I just say? She shook emotion away when it hit her chest and resisted the urge to swipe at her cheeks when her vision blurred. Tears? Really?
Shannon’s chuckle broke off and he set his coffee mug on the thick porch railing. “Taylor, what’s wrong?”
She averted her gaze.
Warm, calloused hands surrounded her cheeks, forcing her chin up. “I was going to tease you about not wanting to take advantage of the view…” His words trailed when their eyes locked.
Taylor managed a smirk. “I did enjoy the view…and the kiss.”
The ghost of a smile curved his lips up. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweets.” Shannon’s voice was a whisper, but an order nonetheless.
That should have irritated her, but it didn’t. “Holman called. I have to go.”
“Oh.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, but his gorgeous whiskey-colored eyes never left hers.
“To Phoenix, so I have to go right to DFW. He’s gonna meet me.”
“Wow. How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know.” Taylor wanted to say more, but what, she didn’t know. Her body ached. “We…got a big break.”
She wanted Bennett behind bars, but she didn’t want to leave Shannon. Even if that was stupid, because it wasn’t forever. Was it?
Taylor shouldn’t tell him about her active investigation, but she’d already shared more than she should’ve, so the words tumbled out, giving Shannon a brief version of what her partner had told her.
He sighed and she couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of his muscled chest. “Well, do what you gotta do. Go get that asshole. Just…be safe.”
It was her turn to swallow, and she cursed the rising mix of feelings. Shannon never pressured her, and this was no different, of course.
That made her feel worse, somehow.