Blind Fury

by Gwen Hernandez

  She looked at him, and she could tell the exact second when he remembered how she’d pushed him away that morning. The light went out of his gorgeous blue eyes and he released her with a sigh, letting his head fall back onto the seat.

  Ignoring the ache in her chest, she scooted carefully over the gear shift knob and handbrake, and pushed her door open. Two men and a woman were approaching from where they’d parked their cars at the top of the hill.

  “Is anyone hurt?” the first man asked, out of breath from his descent. The suit he wore barely stretched over his wide belly.

  “Not seriously,” she told him. “We’re just a little banged up.”

  The other man, a thirty-something with long hair and a goatee, dressed in jeans and work boots, leaned into the car and spoke to Mick in a low voice.

  A pretty brunette with a ponytail took Jenna’s arm and led her to a flat spot to sit down. Jenna thanked her and turned down her offer of water. “I’m all right. Really.”

  Mick climbed over the seats and out of the passenger door of his demolished car. He shook Goatee’s hand and nodded before joining Jenna on the grass, careful not to touch her again.

  Sadness engulfed her. She wanted to be free to love him. When he spun the car, her very last thought before the impact had been “not him too.” Why was this so damn complicated?

  She shut down her train of thought as a fire truck and police cruiser stopped on the shoulder above them. The next hour passed in a frenzy of activity. They were checked for signs of injury by the EMTs, and then police officers interviewed them both, taking statements from the witnesses who had stopped.

  Now, unable to tear her eyes away, Jenna stared at the crumpled driver’s side of the Camaro. From the exterior damage it looked like Mick should be dead. She couldn’t even bear the thought, so she focused instead on the tow truck as the operator hooked the car up to the massive chain.

  When the tow truck lifted the car, Mick asked to look under the chassis, and he rolled onto his back and scooted beneath it. After a minute, he called out to the police officer, who went under with him. They conferred for several minutes, pointing and taking photos. Then the cop pulled something small off the underside of the Camaro and they looked at it for a moment before the officer stuck it in a bag.

  They slid out, wiping dirt off their clothes. The cop took some notes, handed a slip of paper to Mick, and walked away.

  Finally, his face grim, Mick waved Jenna over.

  “What did he take off your car?” she asked as she joined him next to the truck.

  “A GPS tracker.” He shook his head, clenching his jaw. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

  “You looked for one?” When had that occurred to him?

  “I checked the obvious places, but it was well hidden. I would have needed a mirror.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “They’ve been keeping tabs on us, and the brakes were tampered with. This definitely isn’t over.”

  In her heart, she’d known it. But she’d hoped… Adrenaline flooded her system and she began to tremble with fear and rage.

  “All of this for a few images? We need to stop these guys.”

  “This is a dangerous game,” he said. “We don’t want them to up the ante.”

  “How can it get more dangerous than this?” She gestured to the damaged Camaro. “We can keep hiding, but maybe the next time they target us they won’t miss.”

  Mick studied her for a minute and then sighed, running a hand through his hair before holding it out to her. “You’re right. But first we need a rental car.”

  “Something built like a tank,” she said, twining her fingers with his.

  He nodded as he tugged her toward the tow truck and helped her up onto the bench seat beside him.

  Just another crappy day in her new life.

  “He’s become a liability,” Griffin said, working hard to keep his voice calm. “In fact, if you do it right, we can get rid of both of them and cover our asses.”

  “Understood, sir. What’s my deadline?”

  “Yesterday,” he snapped. Calm down, dammit. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This whole clusterfuck should never have dragged on for so long. Too many mistakes had been made, and now it was time to clean up and move forward. “You understand how much is at stake?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get it done.”

  “When it’s over, you’ll need to disappear for a while. How about joining the team in Venezuela?”

  “Sounds good, sir. I like the tropics.”

  Griffin signed off and then slouched back into his favorite armchair with a bourbon on ice. One more day and it would all be over.

  When they arrived back at his condo after renting a car, Mick was exhausted and achy. His body complained loud and clear about the abuse it had suffered in the crash—sore muscles, bruises, and all. He downed some Advil and offered the bottle to Jenna.

  She took two pills and got a glass of water. “I still need to track down Tara,” she said after swallowing. “Will you call Colin again while I try her home and cell numbers?”

  “Sure.” Jesus, what a screwed-up day. Who knew that living with Jenna could be so exciting? Of course, this wasn’t exactly the type of excitement he craved.

  He dialed Colin, watching Jenna as she made her calls. A bruise darkened the right side of her forehead, and the anger he’d felt when he saw the cut brake lines rushed through him again.

  “Di Ferio here.”

  Mick’s head snapped up in surprise. He honestly hadn’t expected Colin to answer. “Hey, it’s Mick Fury. Did you get my messages?”

  “No, sorry, I just turned my phone back on. Forgot I had it off this morning. Didn’t want any interruptions, if you know what I mean.”

  Mick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I get it. I’m calling about Tara. Jenna’s been trying to reach her, but she didn’t show up for work today. She’s not answering her phone either. We checked her house, but she wasn’t there.”

  Jenna watched him expectantly.

  “She’s with me,” Colin said, an apologetic thread in his voice. “Didn’t mean to make you guys worry. We’re at the beach.”

  Mick nodded and gave Jenna a thumbs up. “Can Jenna talk to her for a minute? She’s been really worried.”

  “Sure thing,” Colin promised. “I’ll have Tara call her when she gets out of the shower.”

  Mick ended the conversation. That was probably the friendliest exchange he and Colin had ever had. Hopefully it would ease Jenna’s worry. “They went to the beach.”

  She frowned.

  “Why don’t you look happier? Colin said Tara’s fine.”

  “And you trust him?”

  Good point. “Okay. Let’s wait and see if she calls.”

  “I still can’t believe she’d be this irresponsible. You don’t know her like I do.” She bit her lower lip. “I hope he’s not one of those controlling types. I knew a girl in that kind of relationship, and it grew steadily worse until he started beating her and locking her in the house.”

  How could he respond to that? Despite his feelings about Colin, he’d been ready to take him at face value for some reason.

  Jenna fidgeted and looked around the kitchen, probably itching for something to clean. She appeared ready to collapse under the strain of the day. He couldn’t hold her, but he could still take care of her.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” he said. “I’ll make us some lunch.”

  She slumped against the counter and her gaze settled on him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  What?

  She must have read the confusion on his face, because she said, “After this morning…”

  He crossed his arms. Now she wanted to talk about it? “I’m not thrilled with how things turned out, but I don’t need to be an asshole about it.”

  “You should be. I deserve it.” She hugged herself and stared at the floor for several moments before speaking. “I wasn’t completely honest with you this morning.”
>
  He watched her carefully, his stomach burning with a sudden inkling that he knew what she was going to say. He desperately hoped he was wrong.

  “I—” She cleared her throat. “I tried to seduce you because I thought you might tell me the truth if I did.” Her gaze met his and then skittered away.

  The words were like a blow from a sledgehammer straight to his stomach. He stepped back. Son of a bitch. She’d slept with him for information. Had she enjoyed it? Hell yes, he’d made sure of that. What a sucker. He put his hands on his waist and tried to catch his breath. Jesus, did he even know her at all?

  Mick shoved his phone in his pocket and stared at the ceiling as he tried to rein in his stormy thoughts. “Well, congratulations. It worked.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  “I’m sorry. After…after our night together I changed my mind. I didn’t want to find out like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop you when you started talking.”

  He didn’t even know whether to believe her. He’d thought her incapable of such deceit. Clearly he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. That little speech she’d given him this morning about not being with someone who’d lie to her? What a load of crap. It had probably all been part of her strategy.

  “What was your plan?” His fists clenched. “Did you think that by withholding sex, you’d get me to spill the rest of the details to get you back into bed?”

  Her eyes widened and she moved away from him, heading deeper into the kitchen. He followed.

  He wasn’t ready for how much her betrayal hurt, but he shoved the pain aside, like he’d done so many times before, and leaned in close. “I thought you might be playing me this morning when you ran into the bathroom. ‘But no,’ I said to myself. ‘This is Jenna. She would never be so dishonest. Truth is everything to her.’”

  She winced and ducked her head, refusing to look at him. “It wasn’t like that.”

  He pinned her with a hard glare.

  Her throat worked as she swallowed heavily. “Not entirely.” She met his gaze and gave him an imploring look. “Last night was special to me and I hated that I had an ulterior motive.” She gripped his shoulders. “I wanted to be with you. I always have.”

  He wanted so badly to believe her, but he wasn’t going to play the fool again. A sound of disgust rumbled through his chest. Every lie was like a cut from a knife. Any more and he’d be in shreds. How could he have been so stupid?

  He straightened, dislodging her hands, and made his decision. “You know what? I’m done.” He couldn’t forget his promise to keep her safe, but he didn’t need to be the one doing it, did he? “I’m going to call Kurt to come babysit until we figure out a safe location for you.” He pointed to her shopping bags. “Start packing your shit.”

  At the entrance to his bedroom, he looked back, fingers holding the doorjamb in a death grip. Goddamn her for her lies. For making him think a woman like her could ever want more from a guy like him. Jenna had always been the one pure thing in his life, someone who represented everything good and right in the world. Everything he could never be.

  “Mick, wait.” She ran to him, her cheeks splotchy and red, stopping two feet short of him. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” She lowered her eyes and twined her hands in front of her. “I was desperate.”

  He stilled, his heart bleeding in his chest as her beautiful face dissolved into tears.

  “Well, babe, you might have been desperate, but I’m sure as hell not.” He slammed the door in her face and dialed Kurt.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  JENNA STARED IN SHOCK at the door. Mick was going to leave her.

  But then what had she expected? She’d betrayed him in the worst way possible. She wouldn’t undo their night together for anything, but if she could go back and change her motives, make her intentions completely pure, she’d do it in a nanosecond. Not that she didn’t still want the full truth from Mick. She did. But using his emotions like that… Her stomach twisted with nausea.

  She hadn’t intended to tell him, but the lie had been eating at her all day. His kindness had done her in.

  Leaning against the wall, she wiped her damp face. Time to regroup. Regrets wouldn’t help her now.

  How long would it take for Kurt to arrive? Chewing on a fingernail, she circled the room and finally slumped onto the futon. She wasn’t cut out for this espionage crap. She was sick of cowering, waiting to find out what her enemies were going to do next. Clearly, after today, they were no longer merely following her and Mick. They wanted to destroy them.

  If Tara would just call, she’d be able to rest a little easier. Stress gnawed at her insides, and it didn’t help that her head still hurt from the accident.

  While she was waiting, she filled the department-store bags she’d saved from her shopping spree—had it really only been a few days ago?—packing her new clothes neatly inside. The makeshift suitcases wouldn’t last long, but they’d get her through the day.

  Twenty minutes later, Mick stomped out of his room holding a green duffle bag, not even looking her way as he opened the front door. Kurt stood in the hall, phone in hand. He was tall like Mick, but with a stockier build—definitely solid—thick dark hair just long enough to lie over, and the darkest brown eyes she’d ever seen. Like black coffee. He was handsome in a mafia gangster sort of way, and she was glad she already knew him or she’d be seriously intimidated.

  “Thanks for showing up on such short notice,” Mick said, shaking his friend’s hand as he backed up to let him in.

  “No problem.” Kurt’s eyes practically danced with unspoken questions when he met Jenna’s gaze.

  Mick stepped through the doorway, rattling his car keys in his palm. “I need to clear my head. I’ll let you know when I have a plan.”

  “Actually”—Kurt snagged his upper arm before he could leave—“we have a problem.”

  Irritation flashed across Mick’s handsome face, but he moved inside and shut the door, dropping his bag. “What is it?”

  “Smitty’s dead. I figure you have about thirty minutes before the police come knocking.”

  Jenna gasped and her limbs went cold. Mick hadn’t hit him that hard. Had he?

  Mick stilled. “How?”

  “Shot in the head.”

  She sagged in her seat, nearly dizzy with relief. If the man had been shot, Mick couldn’t have killed him.

  “Word on the street is that you got into it with him last night.” Kurt’s voice was sharp as a blade. He crossed his arms. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you where to find him.”

  “You fucking think I killed him?” Mick reddened and stalked past his friend into the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and popped the top with a bottle opener he kept in a drawer next to the sink. “I was here all night.” He gestured toward her. “Ask Jenna,” he said, his voice laced with anger.

  Her cheeks heated under Kurt’s speculative gaze, and she could only nod in response.

  “Are you sure he didn’t sneak out while you were sleeping?” he asked. “Or did you not sleep at all?”

  Oh, God. Where was a hole to crawl into when you needed one?

  “Hey,” Mick stepped forward, his free hand balled into a fist. “That’s uncalled for.”

  Kurt stared him down. “You don’t think the cops are going to ask the same thing?” His voice rose. “I don’t care what you did last night, but if your alibi isn’t rock solid, you’re screwed.”

  Mick scowled, but gave a resigned nod, still not looking her way.

  In response to a raised eyebrow from Kurt, she swallowed and said, “I slept, but I would have noticed if he’d left the bed.” Wouldn’t she? Her face warmed again.

  “But you can’t be one hundred percent sure, can you?”

  She wanted to tell him he was wrong. She wanted to be able to say without a doubt that Mick had been next to her all night. She wanted to reassure him—and herself—that Mick was innocent.

  But
she couldn’t. Her shoulders slumped. “No.”

  Could Mick have killed Alan Smith? Yes. After seeing the rage on his face last night, she believed he could have. He could have killed Smitty in the heat of the moment at the bar. But he wasn’t capable of doing it in a cold, calculated way. He couldn’t have made love to her like that and then crawled out of bed to commit murder.

  Could he have?

  Mick forced himself to look at Jenna and then wished he hadn’t. He could tell she was wondering if he’d done it. “It wasn’t me, Jenna. I was with you all night.”

  “I wish I knew for sure,” she said, her voice small, her eyes on the floor. “I want to be able to say you were, but I slept for hours.”

  Unbelievable. “What man in his right mind would willingly leave his bed when you’re naked in it?”

  Kurt made a strangled sound and Jenna flushed for about the thirtieth time in the last five minutes. Her gaze moved to Mick’s hands. Was she remembering how he’d run them along her smooth skin or picturing him beating the pulp out of Smitty at the bar?

  “Uh, I’ll just go in the bedroom and return some calls,” Kurt said, practically running for the door.

  Mick hardly noticed. He couldn’t take his eyes off Jenna. She really thought he might have done it. Goddammit. His chest ached with the realization that she trusted him so little. And apparently she had no idea how gorgeous she was, how addictive, how irresistible. Because he hadn’t been kidding about never wanting to leave her alone in bed.

  But he had no time to stroke her ego. Nor did he want to. She’d slept with him because she wanted to know the truth about Rob’s death. He’d do well to remember that. “It won’t be long before the police show up.” They could be pulling up outside even now. “Someone’s setting me up. Obviously I wasn’t the only one who wanted Smitty dead, and the timing—after our fight last night—is a little too convenient.”

  She nodded.

  He really needed her to believe in him, because if someone had gone to all of this trouble to frame him, she was still in danger too. “Maybe the brakes on my car were supposed to fail sooner, and when they didn’t, the people who are after us got desperate.” He paced behind the counter while she watched warily from her perch on the arm of the futon. “Or maybe they needed to take out Smitty, and since I have a motive, they figured it would get me out of the way. It’s perfect if you think about it.”