…
Sage needed to go, to jump on the next bus out of town. She’d head west. Houston or Austin. Or maybe south to Miami. Anywhere but here.
She grabbed her emergency go bag out of the closet and tossed it on her bed, then got down on her hands and knees to retrieve the lockbox from under the bed’s frame. She punched in the combo, flipped the top, and her heart plummeted into her belly.
She didn’t have enough cash.
She sat down hard on the wood floor of her little studio apartment and stared at the small stack of bills. Without counting, she knew there wasn’t enough, but still, she drew it out and separated the bills into neat piles on the floor.
Two thousand dollars.
Oh God, that was all she had?
French Quarter rent wasn’t cheap and had been sucking her dry, but she’d chosen this apartment because it was furnished and within walking distance to work, which meant she hadn’t needed to swindle her way into furniture or a car. But if she went to Houston or Austin, she’d need a vehicle. Texas cities were so spread out it was impossible to not own a car, and she definitely didn’t have the money for that. Two thousand would get her to a new city and maybe set her up in a new apartment—if she didn’t buy a new identity. If she did, it wouldn’t leave her enough for rent.
Her heart sank straight to the floor.
She didn’t have enough cash to leave.
Sage leaned back against the wall, drew her legs up, and rested her elbows on her knees, her fingers speared through her short hair. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay here, but if she left, she’d have to live on the streets, and she so didn’t want to go back to that hell.
Her gaze caught on the built-in desk, where she’d set a stack of mail earlier in the day. It was mostly junk because she didn’t have friends or relatives, and she never ordered anything online. All she ever got in the mail was flyers, coupons, take-out menus…and credit card offers.
That was it. She scrambled to her feet and crossed the room in two long strides. Grabbed the stack of envelopes, flipped through until she found the offers from Visa and MasterCard. The real Sage Evans had had an excellent credit score before she died. If she applied, she’d probably get a high credit limit, which she could borrow cash against and—
No. She set the envelopes down. She refused to commit credit card fraud. So far, she’d managed to avoid adding that to her already long list of crimes. Yeah, so it paled in comparison to other things she’d done, but it was a line she’d set for herself on day one, and she was not going to cross it. Just like how she only took identities from the dead. She wasn’t in this to screw over a stranger. She just wanted to survive.
Okay, calm down. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Marcus and his Cajun friend were just two guys looking for some fun on Bourbon Street. Maybe—
Yeah, right. She knew better. All of her alarm bells were clanging. She had to get gone.
But dammit, she was on the schedule to dance at Elixir this weekend, which would bring in anywhere from two to three thousand dollars in tips. Holding off until after Mardi Gras was a risk, but if she was going to run again, she needed that money. And if she wasn’t willing to go the credit card route, what other choice did she have?
So she’d stay just for the weekend. She’d have to be extra careful, and if she caught even the faintest whiff of danger, then she was gone, money or no. And then… well, she’d figure it out, land on her feet. She always did.
Sighing, she gathered up her cash but decided against returning it to the lock box. If things went south on her, it’d happen fast, and she might not have the time to return home for the money. From now on, she’d have to keep it and her go bag easily accessible.
God, she was so tired of running.
“Better than the alternative,” she reminded herself as she packed the cash into a plastic baggie, then slid it into an inside pocket of her duffle. “And this is a pity-party free zone.”
Her life was what it was. Her decisions had made it this way. She just had to get over it and deal.
Her stomach growled. She set the bag down next to her bed and looked toward the galley-style kitchen, but she couldn’t work up enough energy to make dinner—if there was anything in the kitchen to make. She never went grocery shopping in the traditional sense, never filled up her cart with the standard fresh produce and meat and dairy. It was usually a few canned goods and boxes of pasta, stuff she could pack if she needed to, because she hated the thought of leaving food behind to spoil when she had to run again.
And she always had to run again.
Sage flopped onto her bed and scrubbed her hands over her face, then just lay there and watched familiar shadows play across the ceiling.
Or…no, not familiar. Not familiar at all.
Heart kicking, she stared up at the two large shadows that didn’t belong. Two large, man-shaped shadows, moving around near her front door. The soft click of her lock unlatching had her bolting upright in an instant.
Someone was breaking into her apartment.
It hadn’t been paranoia.
And why, oh why hadn’t she invested in a fucking deadbolt?
She launched off the bed just as the door creaked open and a huge shadow stepped inside. She needed her gun…which she’d left in her purse, right there by the door. Jesus. Her two years in the comfortable life of Lark Warren had made her sloppy.
She ran to the kitchen, which had come equipped with a full butcher block. Her hand shook, and it took her two tries to find the big knife, but as soon as her fingers closed around the handle, she swiped at her intruder, catching him across the upper arm. Not nearly as damaging a blow as she’d hoped. He cursed and shoved her against the wall with one huge hand while way too easily disarming her with the other. She kicked out, but his shin was like a steal beam, and he didn’t so much as flinch.
“Lark,” he said through his teeth. “Cut it out.”
Oh God. That voice. Low, soft, but with an oh so deadly edge that made her heart speed up and her nipples tighten. She knew that voice, the way it said her name. Had heard it over and over again in X-rated dreams on her loneliest of nights.
She stilled and stared up into the slivery-blue eyes of Vaughn Wilde.
For several heartbeats, neither of them moved.
Finally, he eased his grip on her and pushed a strand of her newly blonde hair out of her face. That snapped her back to the here and now like nothing else could have.
Vaughn had found her. Which meant anyone could find her.
He drew a breath as if about to say something, but she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity. She slammed a knee into his balls, and he bent double with an umph. Pain seized the back of her throat for hurting him, but dammit, she couldn’t afford feelings of guilt. If she let them in, they’d consume her. She bolted past him, scooped up her bag, smacked open the side door that let out into the alley…and ran directly into another big male chest.
Goddammit.
She glared up, expecting to see one of Vaughn’s brothers—most likely his twin—but instead met brown eyes crinkled in amusement.
Marcus.
So that was how Vaughn had found her.
He caught her arm and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that was too damn charming. “Going somewhere, doll?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
She glanced around. The alley was blocked on three sides by the walls of her neighbors’ houses, and he was barring her only exit onto the street. She had to get past him if she had any hope of escaping.
Okay, no problem. She knew what made guys like him tick.
She drummed up every ounce of desperation she felt and let it leak out her eyes in the form of crocodile tears.
“Please,” she whispered, giving her voice a tremble. “Let me go. He’s my ex, and I’ve been trying to get away from his abuse and—”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus said, and his smile widened. He was enjoying himself, the bastard. “S
ee, I know all of the Wilde brothers, and not a one of them would ever harm a woman.”
So much for tapping into his inner knight in shining armor.
Dammit, she’d known this guy was trouble. As soon as he walked into Elixir and her inner alarm bells started clanging, she should have ran out the back door to a new life. It had been so, so stupid to ignore her instincts when they hadn’t failed her yet. She’d know better next time.
If there was a next time, which wasn’t looking too promising. Marcus still held her by the arm and inside, Vaughn’s heavy footfalls were coming fast through her apartment toward the side door.
“Marcus?” Vaughn called, his voice strangled.
“Yeah, I got her.”
Oh, no. No, no, no.
She looked up at Marcus. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and she hated to hurt him, but…
“I’m sorry.” She yanked a Taser from her bag and shoved it into his ribs. He made a choked sound and dropped as if his legs had dissolved from underneath him. Without glancing back, she jumped over his prone body and sprinted into the street with Vaughn’s curses chasing her into the chill of the night.
…
Vaughn staggered to the door, wincing as he readjusted himself. The woman had damn near kicked his balls up into his throat, and his stomach threatened a revolt with each step he took.
A shout of pain rang out from the alleyway. Vaughn cursed, slammed through the door, and found Marcus on his hands and knees in the alley. Lark was long gone.
“Jesus.” He dragged his hands through his hair, then locked them behind his head and stared down the alley. At his feet, Marcus groaned and sat up. He was looking a bit green, and Vaughn winced in sympathy. “Nut shot?”
Marcus dropped his head into his hands. “Dude, she fucking tasered me.”
Vaughn swore again and dug his phone out of his pocket. “If you were her and wanted to get out of the city fast, where would you go?”
“Got me. I don’t know this city. This is Jean-Luc’s stomping ground.”
“Then call him.” It came out as more of an order than he intended, but fuck it. He wasn’t trying to make friends here. He pulled up the GPS app on his phone and searched for nearby train or bus stations. He doubted she’d try to fly. She’d need too much money and documentation to get on a last minute flight. Would a train ask for ID? Probably, and he assumed there wouldn’t be one leaving at this time of night. So the bus stations were his best bet. And there was a bus stop less than a mile away.
He didn’t wait for Marcus, instead took off in a dead run, following the directions on his phone.
She had a head start, but he was faster.
Chapter Four
Sage had mapped out and timed all of her possible escape routes within the first two days of moving to New Orleans, but she hadn’t expected to use any of them so soon. And she hadn’t expected to be running from Vaughn of all people.
God. He’d found her.
But more than that, he’d actually searched for her. She hadn’t expected that from him, and as she ran down the streets and alleys toward Escape Plan A, her mind wandered back to the last time she’d seen him. Vaughn had been seriously injured in a bomb blast meant for his brother, which she’d found out about in a phone call from her closest friend in DC, Vaughn’s sister-in-law Libby. At that point, she’d already realized she’d overstayed her welcome and had been on her way out of town…but for the first time ever, she hadn’t been able to leave without saying good-bye and had hurried to the hospital to make sure he would be okay.
Her heart hitched at the memory of all the machines, IVs, bandages, and the cast encasing his entire leg from ankle to hip. Doped up with painkillers, he’d smiled sappily when she entered his room and had started saying all kinds of crazy things that broke her heart to hear, things about a future together they couldn’t have. She’d humored him until he drifted off to sleep, then sneaked away with the certain knowledge she’d never see him again.
She never in her wildest fantasies thought he’d search for her, and it scared the ever-loving hell out of her that he had. In her experience, people only tracked her down when they wanted her dead.
And, okay, she had taken something from Vaughn, but had he really chased her all the way to New Orleans for a pin?
She slowed to a walk as she neared the busy four-lane street where the double-decker bus would be stopping to pick up its passengers. She didn’t want to seem desperate or in a hurry. The less attention she attracted to herself, the better.
She drew out her prepaid phone and booked a ticket on the 11:30 p.m. bus to Houston using a prepaid debit card—which, dammit, she no longer had because it was in her purse back in her apartment. At least she’d saved the card’s information in her phone and booking the ticket was no problem. Once the bus arrived at the street-side stop, all she’d need was her confirmation number to board. No ID and no actual bus terminal full of people to navigate. Easy peasy, which was why she always used this particular company as her get out of town fast Escape Plan A.
The bus stop was near an athletic shoe store and a sprawling green building—according to the faded sign on the side, it used to be some kind of supermarket, but now it looked empty. It’d make a great place to hide and wait…but no, on second thought, the large stretch of parking lot between the bus stop and the building changed her mind. Crossing that open expanse of pavement seemed too much like exposing herself, so instead, she hunkered down next to a small tree in the grassy space between the road and sidewalk and hoped the shadows of the night were enough to keep her unnoticeable.
She’d be surprised if Vaughn followed her again. After all, “leave me the fuck alone” didn’t get much more obvious than nailing a guy in the balls and tasering his friend.
Unless he really, really wanted his pin back.
Wincing at the thought, she reached down the front of her shirt and tugged out the chain she’d attached the pin to. It had been stupid of her to take it in the first place and ridiculously sentimental to have kept it all these months. The gold eagle perched on an anchor, clutching a pistol in one talon and a trident in the other. It must’ve been special since Vaughn wasn’t the type of guy to wear jewelry, but its meaning was lost on her. She only liked it because it gave her a calming sense of safety similar to the feeling she’d experienced during the short time she’d spent in Vaughn’s arms.
Oh, she was an idiot. A slave to an overactive libido that had gotten her in trouble more often than not. Seemed like she would have learned her lesson by now.
Disgusted with herself, she stuffed the chain back into her shirt and checked the time on her phone. Less than twenty minutes had passed since she left Vaughn at her apartment, and she still had fifteen minutes to wait until the bus arrived. Fifteen minutes too long for her liking.
A shadow fell across the pavement in front of her and she tensed, almost afraid to look up, but it was just a young man with a suitcase, waiting for the bus with his nose stuck in his phone. His headphones were so loud, she heard the tinny beat of his music over the passing traffic.
Not a threat.
She drew a breath to calm the jackhammering of her heart and leaned back against the tree. She hated this, the constant itch of paranoia, the jumping at shadows again. As Lark Warren, she’d settled into a somewhat normal life, enjoyed not having to constantly check over her shoulder, and she wanted that again. Had been trying to build that here in New Orleans.
Sure, waitressing wasn’t her favorite job, but she could do it blindfolded, and dancing had provided well enough that she hadn’t been living paycheck to paycheck. She’d had a good thing here, the best since she left DC, and Vaughn had to go and fuck it all up by tracking her down as if their short fling had given him that right.
Bastard. She should’ve tasered him.
Another shadow crossed in front of her, and her shoulders bunched in automatic reaction. She sucked in a calming lungful of the cool night and told herself to relax before she drew u
nwanted attention. It was probably just another passenger waiting for—
Large hands wrapped around her arms and pulled her up, trapping her against a hard body.
“Don’t,” Vaughn said, his voice a low rumble she felt in her own chest. Anyone looking on would only see a couple in an embrace.
“Let me go or I’ll scream.”
“You won’t. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself.”
Dammit. She tried for another groin kick, but he lifted a leg, effortlessly blocking the strike with his thigh. He laughed softly, the sound without humor, and leaned in closer.
“Where is it, Lark?” His breath brushed her ear, and her traitorous body went haywire with hot memories of his breath fanning her inner thigh seconds before…
He shook her. “Where. Is. It?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jesus, she hadn’t meant to sound so breathless, but…actually, that might work to her advantage. He still wanted her—his obvious interest pressed into her belly—and the sex kitten tone was working on him like a drug.
Okay, then. There was no way she’d win against him in a battle of force, but if her years on the run had taught her nothing else, it was that sex could be just as deadly as any weapon.
She wiggled her hand between them and cupped his cock in her palm, squeezing lightly. His eyes flared, and his throat worked as he swallowed hard. He grabbed her wrist, and for half a heartbeat, he held her hand still against his fly.
Sage’s breaths came faster and her nipples tightened, scraping against the fabric of her bra.
Yes, sex was a weapon. But dammit, it only worked when she didn’t let herself get swept up in it.
Vaughn’s jaw tightened, and he yanked her hand away. She felt the cold snap of steel around her wrist before she saw the handcuffs. “What? No!”
“Yes. You’re coming back to DC with me,” he said, a rasp in his tone. She recognized it—the same as his sleepy, ready-for-morning-sex voice—and she clenched her thighs to ward off her body’s instant reaction.
Running Wilde Page 3