They broke through the cluster of trees and Erika spotted her car less than a hundred yards away in the parking lot of a grocery store. For the first time since her surveillance began, she was glad the apartment complex had assigned parking spaces, forcing her to park in East Jabip. She would never have been able to slip out with Aiden undetected if she'd been parked in the lot.
She hadn't even realized her heart was racing until it began to slow to a more normal pace, her breathing returning to slow and steady. Adrenaline still flooded her system. She'd stay on high alert until they reached the safe house. Hell, she'd probably stay hyper-vigilant until she completed this leg of the mission.
"The blue Dodge minivan is mine.” She gestured toward the parked vehicle under a lamppost.
"Where are we going?"
Thank God he no longer questioned the necessity of following. She couldn't pull rank on a civilian. But she could use a little force if she had to; in his injured state, she'd stand a chance. He'd never been a follower, not when she'd known him. “The first order of business is getting you to Wright Patterson and updating my CO on the evening's events."
"And then?"
Of course he'd ask. The Aiden Greene she'd known at the Academy had always been in charge, a leader. She didn't doubt the lawyer he'd become preferred to be in control, too. If she didn't keep a tight grip on things, he'd take the reins of this situation, as well. She had no intention of allowing that to happen. Nope, he needed to keep right on following. This was her assignment, her baby, and she'd keep it in her own capable hands. She kept walking, matching her pace to his. Staying slightly ahead of him, she managed to avoid looking in his eyes. Her nerves were still too stressed for that.
"I make arrangements to get you to Bolling."
"So, you're still with the Air Force Security Agency."
It wasn't a question. He remembered what she'd told him earlier. “I went there straight out of the Academy and have been there ever since."
She wished she could see his face to judge his reactions. Dammit, she wanted to see his expressions, see what he thought about her being a part of the ultra-secret branch of Air Force Intelligence. After all, her ambition to join the AFSA was part of what drove them apart. Instead, she had to stay alert. Their lives depended on it. This was not the time to gloat that she had made the right decision when she'd turned down his proposal.
"When did you make major?"
Interesting guess. He didn't doubt that she'd achieved the rank. And surprising. Given his attitudes when she knew him, she expected him to question her ability and her qualifications to lead this mission. Not assume she'd been promoted. She chalked it up to shock. Once he recovered and regained his equilibrium, she had no doubt he'd be right back to his “women belong in supporting roles” mentality.
"Three years ago."
He moved beside her as they walked, which allowed her to observe him up close and personal for the first time since she'd begun her tail. Just as she'd thought from a distance, the years had been kind to him. At six feet tall, he only topped her by four inches. The shoulders that had been broad during their Academy years had become impossibly wide, along with the expanse of his chest. He still sported a narrow waist and trim hips. An ever-present suit jacket had prevented a glimpse of his once tight butt. When he'd left his apartment without one this evening, she'd been anxious to sneak a peek at his ass in casual pants. It had probably improved with age, just like everything else.
She'd been shocked by his hair when she'd seen the surveillance photos during her initial briefing. Gone was the conservative buzz cut from his days at the Academy and presumably on active duty. Instead, he wore his wavy hair, so dark brown as to be almost black, in a neat ponytail. She'd loosened his hair earlier as she checked for head trauma, so now those thick waves brushed his collar and framed his face. Her fingers itched to tangle in them again, this time with passionate intent.
What the hell was wrong with her? Her job right now was to see that he arrived at Bolling safe and sound, not to drool over him like some teenaged groupie. Hell yes, she needed to get as far away from him and her purely physical reaction to him as possible. The time had come to call in some favors and get someone else to escort him to Bolling.
Digging the key to the rented minivan out of her front jeans pocket, Erika thumbed the button to unlock the doors. Visions of what had happened when Aiden attempted the same gesture minutes earlier assaulted her; she turned to watch him, to ascertain if he experienced any sense of déjà vu. Aiden strode to the passenger side as if he either hadn't noticed or wasn't bothered, which she doubted. She didn't question the action, thankful she didn't have to argue with him again.
"It should take us just over an hour to get to the base.” He reached across his body to click the seatbelt buckle.
Figures he'd know how long they'd be trapped in a car together. “Maybe less. Rush hour traffic should be over by now.” She glanced at the clock—nineteen hundred.
Shoving the key in the ignition, Erika started the car and headed in the direction of the highway. She headed north, bound and determined to reach Dayton as soon as possible.
"You have plenty of time now to tell me what the hell is going on with my life."
From the corner of her eye, she noticed him roll his head and press the heels of his hands to his temples. She'd taken him down with an impressive flying tackle. She'd be surprised if he didn't have a few bruises in the morning.
She'd known this conversation had to take place—she'd promised him it would. She'd only given him the barest of details back at the scene of the explosion, enough to get his ass in gear. Drawing a deep breath, she plunged in at the beginning.
"Two months ago, Cancuen elected a new president. Mr. Montoya didn't like the fact Miguel Ramos lived like a king in his own mansion, under what could loosely be considered “house arrest.” One of his campaign promises was to move Sonny to a real prison. During the transfer, he escaped. About a month ago, intelligence picked up some chatter that Sonny was out for revenge. Against you.
"AFSA wasn't overly concerned, since you'd taken a new identity when you left intelligence. But they sent me to keep an eye on you just in case. So you're going to Bolling to keep you safe until he's caught."
White-knuckled fingers gripped the wheel as she waited for Aiden's response. She kept her eyes on the road as she skirted around Cincinnati.
"That's it? That's the everything you promised me back there?” The anger pouring off of him filled the suddenly small interior of the minivan.
"There's nothing more to tell.” Sometimes, her job sucked. Whether he liked it or not, she'd told him all there was to tell.
"Sonny almost turns me into a crispy critter and all you can tell me is that the bastard escaped on the way to a real jail and is gunning for my ass.” His irate tone grated on her nerves.
"That about sums it up.” She'd tell him more if she had it to tell.
"That about fucking sucks.” He rubbed his temples with his fingers.
"You know as well as I do that sometimes there isn't much intelligence to go on."
He made a rude sound and she could almost hear his thoughts, No shit, not much intelligence. She wished they had more information, but they didn't. Not yet. A serious conversation with the CO was in order when they reached the safe house. How had Sonny or his organization managed to find Aiden when they had so little knowledge of Sonny's whereabouts? The Air Force and the United States government had no records of Aiden Greene after his discharge six years earlier. No tax records, no medical records. Nothing. With the help of the AFSA and the Witness Protection Program, he'd changed his name to Cooper Bartholomew, got a new Social Security number, and moved on with his life.
So what the hell had happened?
* * * *
When the hell had he lost control of his life?
Aiden watched the mile markers tick off as Erika cruised north. Had it been when his car, his beautiful Saab, burst into a ball of flames? No
, it happened long before that. Tonight was just the icing on the fucking cake. Once again, life as he knew it had somersaulted beyond his control, with Sonny choreographing his gymnastic routine. And who should turn up in his ass-over-brains tumble, but the one who got away. She looked amazing—better than amazing—sitting there with the soft glow of the dashboard light reflecting off her skin looking too damn fine in the green haze. Her t-shirt skimmed her generous chest and flat stomach. Faded jeans molded to her perfect ass and long, long legs. He should know, he'd spent enough time staring at them as he panted along behind her through the woods like some wimpy little puppy dog with his tongue hanging out.
He'd spent the entire trek trying to keep the blood from leaving his brain and filling his cock. The sexy wiggle in her walk threatened to give him a hard-on. The Technicolor circus behind him drove home the seriousness of their situation and kept his big head in control of his little one.
Now, all bets were off. Not even thoughts of Sonny Ramos and his threats of revenge kept the blood from flowing south. She was still the stunning beauty she'd been at the Academy, if not more so. She probably had a pretty-boy jet jockey boyfriend and a string of broken hearts to her credit. Starting with his all those years ago.
Morbid curiosity made him break the silence. Maybe if he kept his tone light enough, she'd think this was all idle chit chat. “What have you been up to since graduation? Are you married?” He didn't want to know the answer to that question, did he? Yeah, dammit, he did.
"I've been with the AFSA since graduation. Not much else I can tell you, which isn't classified.” She flashed him a quick smile. “And, no, I never married."
His heart and his cock kicked up a beat at her response. He might as well have a huge scarlet “L” for loser on his forehead. His life was in danger and all he could think about was peeling those jeans off her body so he could dive in deep.
"What about you? What have you been up to?"
"Like you don't have an entire file on me in this car.” Sarcasm hung on every word, not that he cared if he was being rude. After the evening he'd had, he deserved it.
She bit back a laugh. “I'd like to hear it from you."
"Fine. Even before I got out of the Air Force, I'd already planned on attending law school. I met Nancy at law school. She was dating one of the guys in my study group. We got married at the end of my first year.” Although, looking back, he had no idea why they were in such a big rush to marry. Even now, several years later, he could only chalk it up to stupidity. “When I graduated, we moved to Cincinnati to be near her family and I began practicing. She didn't go back to law school, because we decided she needed to be a stay-at-home mother to the twins.” A band tightened around his chest at the thought of his children and how they might never know their father if Sonny had his way. “We divorced about a year ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm not. It's what was best for both of us. I couldn't be the man she wanted."
Right about now, he wished he could be the man Erika wanted for a night or two.
Chapter 2
Erika flipped on her right turn signal and merged onto the exit ramp. She flicked a glance over her right shoulder, double checking her blind spot. She wondered again how people drove these monsters on a daily basis. Give her a nice little looks-like-an-unmarked-police-car sedan any day. But no, the rental company didn't have any available, so they'd upgraded her to what they had on hand. Turning on to Colonel Glenn Highway, she headed for the safe house, a small property near Wright State University and Wright Patterson Air Force Base. Situated near student housing, the comings and goings of Air Force Security Agency officers who crashed there on occasion didn't attract any attention. The safe house had been her home away from home during the time she'd been keeping an eye on Aiden, not that she'd done much more than grab a couple of hours sleep there.
Pulling into the driveway, she checked the time—twenty thirty. It had taken them a little longer than she anticipated thanks to construction, but it was still early enough to call the colonel without disturbing his sleep.
Sleep. Something she'd get precious little of with Aiden under the same roof. She must have been out of her flipping mind to engage in small talk with him. The sound of his voice, smooth and melodic, had washed over her, soothing and stimulating at the same time. Combined with the scent of him, the minivan became a torture chamber. The lingering remnants of smoke from the explosion and the dirt from the tumble weren't enough to mask what was elementally him. Two hours ago, she'd have been hard pressed to call up any memory of Aiden's scent. Now, every nerve in her body pulsed in response to the musky aroma unique to him; cells now vividly recalled the smell of him as they sat studying in the library, as they—
"Are we going inside, or are we going to sit out here all night?"
Thank heavens Aiden derailed her from that train of memories. The front porch light illuminated the steps and the walkway, indicating someone was already inside the house. Whoever was here must have parked in the garage. At least she'd have some company tonight and not be alone with Aiden. Thank God for small favors.
"Come on, let's go inside.” She hopped out of the minivan and had to stop herself from sprinting as far away from Aiden—and the pleasurable/painful thought of being with him—as possible.
As she walked toward the garage door, the motion sensitive floodlight kicked on, the bright light stunning her eyes for a moment. She entered the security code on the small panel and waited for the door to rise. The low-slung Corvette parked in the middle of the garage clued her in to the identity of the officer inside. She knew only one man in the AFSA who owned a flashy sports car.
All her senses told her Aiden was right on her heels as she entered the house. Entering the hallway that led to the kitchen, Erika called out to the occupant of the house. “Chad, make yourself presentable, you have company.” God help him if he walked out in his skivvies. She wouldn't put it past him, since he always put the moves on her, not getting the hint that “not interested” meant just that.
Major Chadwick “Marilyn” Monroe, hotshot flyboy by day, dangerously effective AFSA by night, called out, “Ed, is that you?"
Ed. The nickname her father used to pretend she'd been the son he'd wanted, not the daughter he'd been given. All these years later, it still stuck with her. She supposed it could be worse. She could be a tough-as-nails jet jockey stuck with a girl's name as a call sign.
"Yeah, it's me and I have someone with me."
"Marilyn, you sorry son of a bitch, get your ass out here.” Aiden called out from behind her, showing the first signs of animation she'd seen from him all evening. Of course Aiden would remember Chad from their days at the Academy.
Chad Monroe, given the dubious call sign “Marilyn” by his flying buddies, sauntered into the kitchen through the doors leading to the den. For reasons that Erika could never hope to understand, the jet jockey brigade found it hilarious to call the notorious ladies’ man “Marilyn” Monroe. Fighter pilots could be so cruel to each other. Most women considered Chad's all-American model looks drop-dead gorgeous, if they considered Hugh Jackman handsome. Chad took advantage of the fact, combined with his jet jockey career, to entice women to his bed.
Not Erika. Give her the rugged handsomeness of Aiden over the pretty-boy Chad any day.
Okay, not the thought track to take.
"Aiden Greene, as I live and breathe. How the hell are you?"
She watched as the men exchanged back thumpings that passed as hugs.
"I've been better.” The corner of his mouth quirked up as he spoke.
Memories of those talented lips crowded out all other thoughts. Erika blushed as she recalled the feel of his mouth on hers, the soft gentle pressure of endless kisses shared years ago at the Academy.
"Hey, Ed, are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed.” Chad took a step closer to her. “That's about the only excuse I'll accept for not saluting a senior officer.” The man loved to torment
her. Every time their paths crossed, he managed to take a teasing jab at her by reminding her of her hated nickname and his ranking seniority of one whole month. Despite being a royal pain in the ass, he was a damn fine AFSA officer.
"We're inside and in civvies. I don't have to salute you.” Just to torment him, Erika flipped him a salute with her middle finger slightly elevated in a gesture she used only with very close friends and only in private. “There, happy now?"
Chad's laugh rumbled, sounding loud in the quiet kitchen. “For now, anyway. So, Aiden, what are you doing here?"
His look speared Erika with the real question. What was a civilian doing in a highly protected and guarded AFSA safe house? She understood his question. The AFSA kept a number of houses near major bases for the officers to use when they traveled. Some assignments were so secretive that the officers couldn't risk staying on the base in the visiting officers’ quarters. They couldn't risk their location being tracked. The location of the houses was highly guarded. She'd jeopardized that by bringing Aiden. She hadn't had a choice.
"Damned if I know, Marilyn. One minute I'm heading back to the office and the next, I'm flat on my back, Erika on top of me, and my Saab in flames."
"Erika on top of you? Hell, man, I've been trying to get her there for years."
She watched as Aiden stiffened, tension radiating from him. What was that about?
"Seriously.” Chad cast a why-the-hell-is-a-civilian-standing-in-the-middle-of-this-kitchen glare at Erika. Again. “What's up?"
"Mission blown to hell. Literally.” Even with Chad being an AFSA officer, any further disclosure violated all need-to-know rules. She'd never tell him any more than he'd tell her why his sorry ass was spending the night in Ohio. He'd just have to trust that she'd made the correct call in bringing Aiden to the safe house.
The Class of '93 Trilogy: Deadly Briefs Page 2