by Callie Croix
She swallowed and nodded, reassuring him that at least her neck was okay. “Th-thank you for g-getting me out.”
Christ, she didn’t have to thank him for pulling her out of a trapped vehicle. He fought back his instinctive need to touch her, hold her. She didn’t reach for him or give any indication she even wanted him there. Something distant in her expression made him hang back. He stuffed his hands in his wet pockets to keep from reaching for her and continued to stare as an awkward silence spread between them. He hoped like hell her silence was from shock and not because she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.
“W-what are you doing here?” she finally asked in a bewildered voice.
His hands itched to touch her, to soothe away the fear he still sensed in her. “I was on my way to your place to wait for you and stopped to see what was going on.” Thank God he had. If he’d been five minutes later coming down that road, or if he’d taken a different route…
He shoved the thought away.
Surprise flashed in her eyes but it was gone so fast he wondered if he’d imagined it. “I’m g-glad you f-found me,” she said in a small voice that was completely unlike her. Despite all the people around them and the invisible wall between them, Reid wanted to close the gap and haul her straight into his arms. Of all the ways he’d foreseen tonight going, this hadn’t been one of them. He hated seeing her cold and scared. The protective part of him demanded he do something to make it better.
The paramedic in the back said something to her and she looked up to answer, then spoke quietly to her date. Reid stepped back to give them some room while the medic gathered more bandages. Reid scrutinized her date. The asshole didn’t even seem concerned about her, wasn’t even trying to warm or comfort her. Why the hell would Becca go out with a guy like that?
A firefighter came up to Reid. “You need a blanket, man?”
“Nah, I’m good.” He had a change of clothes in his truck. And he wasn’t putting them on until he was a hundred percent certain that Becca was really okay. Because she didn’t look okay right now.
Once the paramedics were finished, Becca stood slowly. She met Reid’s eyes and he felt the impact of her gaze like a kick to the chest. He closed the distance between them without even realizing he’d made the decision to move.
The instant he was close enough, she reached a hand out to him. Reid took it immediately, curling his fingers around her colder ones in a protective grip, grateful that she wanted him there. The blanket she clutched at her throat slipped slightly, revealing the bandage wrapped around the base of her left hand. “How bad are you hurt?”
She shrugged, the move choppy because she was still shivering. “Just a couple nicks f-from the glass. I don’t think they n-needed bandaging, but the medic ins-sisted.”
Reid scanned the exposed skin on her face and neck, looking for more marks. There was an abrasion on the bridge of her nose and one high up on her right cheekbone, likely from the airbag. The blanket gapped beneath her clenched fist, its halves parting around her torso. Her soaked dress was snagged in a few spots at hip and thigh level, though he couldn’t tell if she was bleeding beneath it. Fragile black high-heeled sandals were still buckled around her ankles.
Frowning, he lifted his free hand to trace a finger over a raw scrape along the edge of her jaw. “What the hell happened, Bec?”
“Someone r-ran us off the r-road,” she said shakily.
Reid felt his hackles rise. From the gouges in the road’s shoulder and the edge of the canal where the car had plunged over, they must have taken a pretty good impact. She’d have whiplash, maybe even a concussion. Her pupils were evenly dilated and she didn’t seem confused, but even if she was in shock right now she had to be more shaken up than she was letting on. As he opened his mouth to say something, another cop stepped up and addressed Becca.
“Ma’am, can you answer some questions for me now?”
“Sure.” She tightened her hold in Reid’s fingers, and he squeezed back gently in wordless reassurance, moving closer to her side.
The cop glanced at him in silent question.
“I’m staying,” Reid said flatly.
Without any argument the officer turned his attention back to Becca and took out a pad and paper. “Did you get a good look at the driver or passenger of the car that forced you into the canal?”
“I saw the p-passenger more clearly than the driver. Young Caucasian m-male, probably early to mid twenties. Dark hair, I think.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, and Reid wrapped an arm across her shoulders to help stem the shivering, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. “He stared right at us,” she continued with a slight shake of her head. “That was the creepiest p-part. It was like he recognized us or s-something.”
Reid shot her a sharp look, his muscles tensing.
“So you think they ran you off the road intentionally?” the cop asked.
“I know they did,” she answered firmly. She glanced at her date, her expression closing up when his face remained unreadable.
Something about her response didn’t gel, and Reid got the feeling it had to do with covering for her date. Had the asshole been drinking and crossed over the center lane and Becca was trying to protect him? He glanced over his shoulder to pin the guy with a hostile glare as he spoke to one of the other cops.
“David didn’t recognize them either,” Becca went on. “They pulled up r-right beside us to get a good look, then hit us twice deliberately until we f-finally went into the canal.” She shuddered.
Jesus. Reid waited silently throughout the rest of the questioning, keeping an eye on David. If the asshole knew more than he was letting on about this incident, if he’d knowingly placed Becca in danger, he’d be sorry.
Becca finished answering the questions, gave the cop all her contact info and promised to make another statement if she remembered anything else.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital, get an X-ray or anything?” the officer asked.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just need to get out of these w-wet clothes and into a hot shower.”
The cop looked at Reid. “You taking her home?”
“Yeah.” He was relieved when Becca didn’t protest. She might not think she was hurt, but she definitely shouldn’t be alone right now. And he’d be damned if he’d let David take care of her. “Come on,” he told her quietly. “Let’s get you home.”
She resisted the gentle tug on her shoulder, looking back at David. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”
Reid held back a snort of disgust as she walked over to one of the squad cars where David sat in the passenger seat, shivering beneath his blanket and looking pathetic. He started to get up when she approached but sank back down when she spoke to him. He met Reid’s gaze briefly before looking up at her again with a miserable nod. They talked for a few minutes, heads close together. The whole think reeked of secrecy, and Reid wanted to know what the hell they were talking about.
Finally Becca came back to Reid and slipped beneath the arm he held out for her, burrowing into his side. She shivered in bursts, her teeth chattering slightly. Her trembling lips held a bluish tinge. He rubbed his hand gently up and down her upper arm in an attempt to warm her. “Okay?”
She nodded. “They’re going to take him to the hospital for a CT scan. He said to t-tell you thanks for getting us out.” Her voice went soft.
Reid didn’t give a shit about David. “Was he drinking tonight?”
A tiny frown formed before she realized what he was asking and her eyes went wide. “No, he wasn’t impaired, I swear. It wasn’t his fault.”
He relaxed marginally, glancing at the guy. He received a feeble smile and a wave. Forcing himself to be polite, Reid nodded once in acknowledgement before leading Becca away.
* * *
&n
bsp; Carter’s palms were sweating lightly in his leather gloves as he drove the second stolen car back to the accident site. Kevin had already ditched the one they’d used to sideswipe the BMW, while Carter returned to check things out. The person who’d hired him to take out the accountant and his date apparently wasn’t satisfied with them merely winding up beneath the water in the drainage canal. His employer wanted to know if they were dead, or at least too badly incapacitated to talk about what they knew before all the loose information could be found and destroyed.
It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be.
While Carter had done a lot of bad things since he turned sixteen five years ago, he’d never killed anyone before. The rap sheet he’d accumulated was varied with all sorts of other crimes—and lucky for him, most of it was sealed in his juvie records. Since coming of legal age, he’d been careful to do things that wouldn’t attract much attention. Kevin claimed to have shot a couple of people to death, though Carter was pretty sure he was just talking shit. Because stone-cold murder was a hell of a lot worse than what they’d pulled off together in the past.
Part of him was terrified that he’d drive past the scene and see the body bags. Knowing he hadn’t been the one behind the wheel and therefore hadn’t actually pushed the victims into the canal was his conscience’s only reprieve. Roughing someone up was one thing; this was something else entirely and why he’d gladly let Kevin drive earlier. Carter would never have agreed to take on a job like this if the money hadn’t been so insanely good.
His heart beat faster when he saw all the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles up ahead. He slowed behind the car in front of him while a cop directed them around the accident scene. Carter’s gut did a strange tilt-a-whirl when he noticed the accountant sitting in the back of the ambulance, then the woman draped in a blanket nearby, walking away with another man.
Oh, fuck.
Not only were they still alive, they didn’t look all that bad off. Torn between relief and dread at what his employer would say, he drove past and pulled out his disposable phone to call the temporary cell number he’d been given.
“Is it done?” a crisp voice demanded, devoid of any sort of guilt or hesitation.
He cleared his throat. “They’re uh…both still okay,” he said, wincing when an outraged cry came from the other end.
“Why are you calling me then? Go and finish it! Just do whatever it takes to make him go away, and get the information from her. I want this whole mess cleaned up before it spreads any further. I won’t pay you another dime until it’s done, and if you screw up, I’ll make sure you wind up behind bars.”
Yeah, that he was clear on. And the hundred-thousand-dollar payday at the end of all this was something he couldn’t turn down. “Okay. I’ll call you if—”
“No, you won’t. Don’t call me again until it’s taken care of. Got it?”
“Yeah,” he muttered and hung up. Expelling a hard breath, he doubled back to where he’d left Kevin, finding him walking along the shoulder of the road about a mile from where they’d ditched the first stolen car. He pulled over ahead of him and popped open the passenger door.
Kevin quickly crawled into the seat and looked at him as he shut the door. “Well?”
Carter shook his head slowly.
“Aw, shit.”
He couldn’t agree more. This was supposed to have been a quick, simple job, and he wasn’t supposed to be the one responsible for the killing. Running the BMW off the road had seemed like the perfect plan. If everything had gone the way it was supposed to, it would have looked like an accident. Then they could have gone to the targets’ houses and made all the remaining evidence disappear. Now they’d be on their guard and that much harder to get to. He tapped his gloved fingers against the steering wheel in a nervous rhythm. “Think they got a good look at us?”
“No, it was too dark.” Kevin chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, lost in thought. After a minute he pulled out his handgun and set it on his lap. “We’ll just have to try again tonight sometime.”
Damn, he’d been afraid of that. Carter pulled back onto the road and headed for a secluded spot they’d picked out earlier to leave the car. “You want to follow the guy home?”
Kevin shook his head, an agitated expression on his face. It amplified the dread churning in Carter’s gut. “Naw, we’d better split up. Let’s ditch this piece of shit first. Then we’ll regroup and take care of business. You go to the woman’s place and search for the flash drive in case it’s there. I’ll go to the accountant’s and get all his computers, see what I can find out from him before I finish up.”
From his tone, Carter knew that Kevin was prepared to kill the guy to finish the job and protect his identity. Could he do the same if he had to? Carter swallowed uncertainly. All he knew for sure was that this was already spiralling way out of control and he was in too deep to get out now. No matter what happened after this, it was going to be messy.
* * *
Reid ushered Becca to his truck without a word, wanting to get her away from the scene as soon as he could. He put her in the front passenger seat and hustled around to the other side, then fired up the engine and set the heaters to high, aiming the vents at her feet and body. Warm air blasted into the cab as he began peeling off his sodden clothes. Becca darted an almost uncomfortable glance at him, still clutching the thin blanket around her.
“You should get out of that dress,” he told her matter-of-factly, shucking his sodden jeans with difficulty. Wet denim was a bitch to peel off.
When she didn’t move or respond, he looked over at her. She was watching him uncertainly, as though she couldn’t decide whether to follow his suggestion or not. Considering he’d touched and kissed every inch of her naked body only weeks ago, her hesitation over stripping in front of him pissed him off.
“I’ll hold the blanket around you,” he offered gruffly, “but either you take it off or I’ll do it for you. You’re already freezing and still in shock, so I’m not taking any chances of you getting hypothermic. Take it off now.”
She held his gaze for a moment longer, a spark of annoyance lighting her eyes before she finally shifted the ends of the blanket to better cover herself. Reid took the damp edges from her cold fingers despite her resistance and waited impatiently while she struggled to peel the sodden garment over her head. He tossed it to the floor and handed her a dry T-shirt from his duffel in the backseat, tugging it over her head before she could protest. She wriggled, pulling the shirt down over her thighs and he at last pulled the damp blanket away. When she was settled, he dragged on a pair of sweatpants then helped her buckle her seatbelt because her fingers were shaking too badly.
Her pallor and silence were beginning to alarm him. Despite the dry clothes and the heaters on full blast, his skin was still covered with goose bumps, and he’d only been in the water a few minutes. Not only had she been submerged longer, she had far less muscle mass to generate body heat. He’d have loved to haul her into his lap to warm her, but her stiff posture made it clear she didn’t want him touching her.
She sat quietly beside him as he pulled away from the throng of emergency vehicles, arms wrapped around herself to help stem the shivers rolling through her. He hated the helplessness he felt. Not that her silence really surprised him. She’d been through one hell of a shock. Still, he didn’t like the distance she was trying to put between them. Whether she was mad at him or not for falling off the radar, she needed someone to take care of her right now.
He reached across the console and gently pried her uninjured hand away from her body, lacing his fingers with hers. She glanced over at him and gave a tiny smile of thanks as she squeezed his hand. Relieved that she’d responded to him even in that small way, Reid ran his thumb across her knuckles as he drove.
The twenty-five-minute trip to her place seemed to take a
hell of a lot longer. He caught her sigh of relief when he finally turned down her street and her house came into view. Reid parked in front of the two-story Cape Cod’s double garage and came around to help her out of the car, but she was already climbing out. Becca wobbled slightly on her high heels; he steadied her with a hand on her upper arm.
“Thanks,” she murmured, quickly straightening and pulling away. “Just a little shaky still.”
“Understandable.” He slammed her door shut while she headed up the front walkway without him, the ends of the blanket trailing behind her like ruined wings. Scowling, he loped up beside her in the cold drizzle and caught her arm. Two strides from the front steps she froze, looking up at him with black-rimmed eyes.
“My purse is still back in the car,” she said dully. “I don’t have a key or my phone.”
“Can you get in through the garage?”
“Yeah, but that won’t do us any good. I always keep the door into the kitchen locked.” She sounded annoyed with herself.
He could pick the locks or bust through a door if need be, though he’d rather not add any more drama to the evening. “You got a spare key hidden anywhere?”
She shook her head. “My sister took it when she was in town last week. I hadn’t made another copy yet.” The shivering seemed to have worsened in the few seconds since they’d left the truck, and seeing her so fragile tied him in knots.
“Go sit in the truck and keep warm,” he ordered. Scanning the house for another way in, his gaze caught on one upper-story window that stood open a few inches. He shot her an incredulous look. “You left your bedroom window open?”
She frowned. “I always leave it open a few inches. I like the fresh air.”
“Is it locked in place?”
“No, why?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “No one’s going to get up there to break into my house.”
“Jesus, Bec.” He shook his head at her naiveté and searched for a handhold, finding one near one of the downspouts. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he ushered her onto the covered porch and next to the front door. “Stay here.” He climbed up onto the porch railing and jumped to catch the edge of the gutter below the open window.