The Runner's Daughter

by Jessica McCrory

  “You won’t harm her.” Eric stepped out of the house and eyed Jemma. “Nice to see you, Willow.”

  She ground her teeth together. “I wish I could say the same, Eric.”

  His cool façade didn’t break. That was what scared Jemma the most about Eric, whether he was murdering someone or watching a relaxing television game, his demeanor never changed. You never knew the blow was coming, and he didn’t break stride even afterward.

  “Let’s go.” Eric motioned, and Jemma was dragged around the house. They were just emerging out when she saw Caid’s car pulling in.

  “No, no, no,” she muttered, and Henry smiled.

  “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise! How about I be the one to put a bullet in him?”

  “Just get it done, Jameson. We don’t have time for any distractions.”

  “Caid! GO!” Jemma screamed, and the man shoved her back to the ground behind the dead agent’s car.

  “Stay put, bitch,” he growled.

  There were no words to describe the level of anger Caid felt at the sight of the men dragging Jemma to the car. He simply saw red and the only thought he had was that he was going to fucking kill them all. Every single man who had touched her. Especially his ex-partner, who now had his weapon trained on Caid with a sick smile.

  Then he saw the agent lying dead on the ground, and his anger only intensified. He accelerated and headed straight for them. As soon as he was close enough to Jameson, the bastard pulled the trigger and a bullet came through the windshield. Caid continued and heard the yell as Jameson hit the hood of the car.

  It was then Caid stopped and threw the car into park. He got out, kicked the gun away from Jameson, who was alive but stuck under the car, and then ran around to the opposite side of his vehicle.

  “There’s no way you fuckers are getting out of here with her, so I suggest you let her walk and leave before I put a fucking bullet into every single one of you.”

  “Kill him,” Eric ordered and then disappeared.

  “Gladly.” The other man Jemma had run into said with a smile and then crept out to try and sneak around behind Caid.

  “Caid! He’s coming up behi--”

  Caid heard Jemma yell, and then heard the loud crack he knew meant she had been hit. He was going to fucking slaughter these bastards. He turned to see the man trying to flank him, and with a well-aimed bullet, the man fell to the ground. Two down, two to go he thought to himself and peered over the hood of the car.

  Jemma, still stunned from the slap and now even more pissed off, kicked the guard in the side of the head. He fell out from behind cover, and Caid was able to fire on him. She got to her feet and ran toward Caid just as another gunshot rang out. Caid cursed and fell back behind the car, and Jemma ran as fast as she could to reach him.

  “Come out, little willow,” Eric called.

  “Where are you hit?” Jemma asked as she knelt next to Caid.

  “Bastard got me in the arm.”

  “You have a knife?”

  “Yeah,” Caid groaned, and using his good arm, pulled a blade from his pocket. Jemma turned so he could cut the zip tie binding her hands. She retrieved his weapon, and stood to face Eric.

  “You definitely grew a pair, Willow, but your daddy doesn’t care. He wants you back, and unless you come with me now, he’s going to continue to hunt you. People are going to die, Willow,” he remarked softly, “and it’s going to be your fault.”

  She raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Eric moved, but not far enough to avoid getting shot in the same place Caid had.

  She had never seen Eric mad, but when he looked at her after the bullet tore through his arm, there was murder in his eyes. Just when she thought he was going to shoot her, he climbed into the SUV they pulled up in, and sped off.

  Jemma knelt next to Caid again and looked at his arm. She ignored his gaze and did her best to keep her voice steady. Eric had just revealed what she had been keeping from Caid, and based on the anger on Caid’s face, he wouldn’t forgive her for it.

  “Daddy, huh?”

  “We need to go.”

  “Back off, Jemma,” Caid said angrily and walked around the car to the still breathing Jameson.

  “You fucking ran me over!” he yelled.

  “Yeah, well, you fucking shot me, asshole.” Caid grabbed Jameson’s phone from his pocket, and after dialing a number, put it up to his ear. “We need clean up, the New Haven safe house has been compromised. One agent is dead; another is currently pinned underneath my car since he shot me. Two other dead unknowns. Yeah, we’ll be here.” He hung up the phone.

  “Let me help you,” Jemima insisted.

  “I don’t want help from you right now.”

  Jemma stormed back into the house and grabbed the first aid kit she remembered seeing underneath the sink in the bathroom. Then she stormed back out straight to Caid.

  “Stop being a stubborn asshole and let me look at your arm.”

  “I don’t need--”

  “Shut up, Caid.”

  He glared at her, but didn’t fight when she started anyway.

  She helped him shrug out of his jacket and T-shirt and did her best not to suck in a breath at the sight of his chest. The last thing she wanted right now was to find him attractive, especially when he was pissed at her and there was a yelling onlooker. Besides, she had seen him shirtless before when they had sparred. Now though, with him sitting in front of her, she ached to run her hands over the contours. To feel each muscle fiber below her fingers.

  Jemma forced herself to look at the wound in his arm. The bullet had only grazed it, so she cleaned and bandaged it up, and then went back into the house to return the first aid kit. She stood for a moment staring into the mirror. Who would have thought she would be here? She thought for sure she had finally gotten the chance to live a normal life, yet here she was, not even sure she would survive to see the sunrise. And she had dragged Caid into her own personal hell.

  She stepped outside to see vehicles already arriving. There were three New Haven PD cruisers, two ambulances, a coroner’s van, and a black, nondescript SUV she imagined belonged to whatever FBI agents had been closest.

  Her heart ached as she watched the body in the black bag being loaded into the back of the coroner’s van. She imagined he had been a good agent, possibly one with a family, friends, and now he wouldn’t get to see another birthday because of her.

  Because she had listened to the FBI instead of following her own instincts. She looked over to Caid, who now sat in the back of an ambulance while the paramedic put stitches in his arm.

  He sat, rigid and unmoving, as he stared at the coroner’s van. If she knew him as well as she thought she did, she knew he carried guilt for his dead comrade. Was that what he was feeling now? Or was it anger at her deception?

  13

  Caid watched the last of the vehicles pull away. His arm hurt like hell, and now he got to deal with the fact that the woman he had risked his life for had lied to him since day one. Pax had reamed him for not calling for backup, and had promised the second Jameson was released from the hospital, she would place him in a cell until Caid had the chance to talk to him.

  Fucking bastard. Apparently screwing Brittany hadn’t been enough; he’d had to step up his betrayal and go against the entire FBI. Caid would see to it that the fucker paid for what he’d done. And Wallace. Dammit, the man had only just started with the bureau. He was set to get married in six months.

  “Argh!” Caid yelled and wished there was something close enough he could punch it. He looked back at the house and saw Jemma standing on the porch with her arms crossed. He supposed getting them out of the area was first on his to-do list, then they would deal with whatever else she was hiding from him.

  “Let’s go,” he said and headed for the vehicle they brought for him to replace the one that had a bullet put through the windshield.

  He watched as Jemma walked slowly down the steps and over to the car. She had changed ou
t of her borrowed clothes and back into skintight black jeans, white T-shirt, and black leather jacket. Her boots laced up her shins, and he knew she was packing at least two weapons she had lifted from her assaulters as well as the one she’d had before. It really should piss him off, he thought. He should make her turn them over and simply follow protocol now, especially after what had happened to Wallace. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, as pissed off as he was at her. He couldn’t say he blamed her for hiding it from him. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let her know he was mad though.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat just as Jemma was getting into the passenger side. Then he sped out of the driveway and left the tiny house with his mother’s throw pillows behind.

  Jemma took a deep breath. “Where are we going?”

  “Another safe house.”

  “No.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Jemma? ‘No’? Where the hell do you suggest we go then?”

  “I have a place.”

  “Oh, you have a place? How about I am the FBI agent. Not you. In case you’ve forgotten, you are the daughter of a criminal.” He wanted to eat his words the second they came out. “Oh, isn’t this fucking perfect.” A black SUV was sitting at the end of the long driveway. “What, they want to grind it in? Make sure they don’t miss this time?”

  “Caid.”

  “What the fuck do they think is going to happen?”

  “Caid.”

  “I mean do they think I’m just going to hand you over? Like ‘here you go, dickhead, here’s your kid back.’?”

  “Caid!”

  He looked over at her now to see her eyes wide and all color gone from her skin. She pointed, and he followed her finger to the man standing cross-armed in front of the car.

  “That’s Liam Charmont, my father.”

  “Fuck.” Caid threw the car into reverse and took off just as two men with automatic rifles stepped out of the car and unleashed a spray of bullets. Caid and Jemma ducked down as far as they could and drove through a neighboring field and onto the on ramp.

  “Son of a fucking bitch!” he yelled and pressed his hand to his arm, which was now bleeding. Again. “How many fucking times am I going to get shot today?”

  “Drive Caid.” Jemma pulled the gun out of her waistband as they hit the interstate. The SUV was coming up behind them. “Call someone.”

  “Which would be a great idea except I don’t have a phone. Mine is in my desk, and you broke the other one.” He began to move in and out of traffic, but Charmont’s vehicle followed smoothly.

  Jemma kept her eye on the SUV as it surged closer, ready for a clean shot. But it continued to stay just out of reach. “I don’t understand, why aren’t they moving in on us?”

  “Too many witnesses. Your father does a damn good job at keeping those minimal. And on the off chance they do get into an accident, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near it.”

  “So then why follow us?”

  “It’s a mind game. And I’m sure he’s hoping our car might just happen to break down.” Sirens rang out, and the SUV sped up to go around them. The windows were dark, but Jemma could feel her father’s eyes on her as they passed. A police cruiser blew past them, and Caid used the distraction to exit the freeway.

  “We cannot go to another FBI safe house, Caid.”

  “And just why not? We got Jameson.”

  “If you think he’s the only mole in the FBI, you are sadly mistaken.” She crossed her arms.

  “Okay, since you seem to be the one with all the fucking answers, how about you tell me what I’m supposed to do? Because my fucking arm hurts again, and I’m fairly certain this one is a bit more than a graze.” Blood poured down his arm, and he could feel it running down his chest.

  “I have another apartment, I paid cash for it, and it’s listed under a seventy-year-old woman’s name. Trust me, it’s safe. I have a first aid kit.”

  Caid searched her face for any sign of betrayal, but found none. He was going to bleed out if he didn’t get somewhere he could fix himself up. “Fine, let’s go.”

  Jemma took her jacket off and tore a piece of her T-shirt to tie around Caid’s arm, then she directed him back into the city.

  “Leave the car here,” she instructed, and he parked.

  “How far is this place?” he asked as they started walking. The tourniquet had helped stop some of the blood, but his arm felt like it was on fire each time it moved, which meant the bullet did not go all the way through.

  “I didn’t want to leave the car too close. Liam’s got a lot of people on his payroll. You never know who’s watching for him.

  “Up here,” she said, and they began climbing stairs to a building Caid seriously doubted was occupied by anyone.

  “If you’re bringing me here to kill me, let me save you the trouble. I’ll just lie here and bleed out now.”

  She turned and glared at him. “I’m not working with Liam,” she said sternly, voicing his current, largest fear. “Shouldn’t the fact that my apartment was trashed and I followed you to the FBI have that cleared up?”

  “Corruption is sometimes hard to spot. And let’s face it, you’ve done a damn fine job at keeping shit from me so far.” It could be because he’d been shot, or the fact that he was risking his neck for her, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with not telling him all the facts.

  “Are we safe here?” he asked.

  “Yes. I buried this pretty well. It was after I acquired my other apartment, so I had learned some things about staying hidden.”

  Jemma lifted a decoration off the wall to reveal a keypad. She typed in a code, and the door opened. She turned on the lights as they stepped inside. The studio apartment was scarcely decorated, and Caid assumed the only interior door led to what was the bathroom. The layout was almost exactly the same as her other one.

  A grey couch sat against a wall facing a small fireplace that hadn’t been lit in some time. The queen-sized bed was covered in a white blanket with only a single pillow. Each window had been boarded up, so no light escaped to the outside.

  “What is this place?” he asked as he slowly made his way to the couch. His fucking shoulder was killing him.

  “My backup plan.”

  “So, what, you were going to just stay on the run forever? Even though with your testimony alone we could bring this fucker in?”

  “It’s not safe for me.”

  “Bullshit. You know, I figured you for a lot of things, but a coward was never one of them.”

  “You have no fucking clue what I’ve been through, so stop acting like you know me.”

  “I feel like I’ve got a pretty good idea. Daddy’s girl through and through till what, he took your favorite toy away? Didn’t buy you that fancy jewelry you wanted? Tell me, how was it growing up with him as a father?”

  “Shut the fuck up before you say something that makes me want to let you bleed out on my floor,” she growled and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned holding an impressive looking kit.

  Caid removed his shirt for the second time that day, and Jemma pulled out a pair of sterile tweezers.

  “This is going to hurt,” she said with a smile and dug into the flesh in his arm to dig the bullet out. With a ping she dropped it into a glass jar and cleaned and stitched up his second gunshot wound of the day. Luckily, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as she thought it was based on the amount of blood that stained his clothes and skin. It had been just through the muscle, and although it was going to ache like hell, it wouldn’t completely debilitate him.

  He waited until she had cleaned up and put the kit away before he started back in on her. “So, you have a second apartment, why? What exactly was your plan?”

  “I was going to run. You had it right -- he terrifies me. You once asked me what my panic attacks were about. Him. Every single damn time, it comes back around to the crippling fear I feel at even the mention of his name.”

  “Why are they loo
king for you, Jemma? Is it just because you’re his kid?” Caid asked again and slammed the hand of his uninjured arm onto the wall.

  “I’ve told you everything. I know the intimate details of his operation, I know names, dates, locations, and yes, also because I am his kid. He wants me back so he can force me to live the life he does, marry someone who is in the same business he is. I told you to let me handle it. Your best bet is to leave now and let me handle this on my own.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m knee-deep already.” He gestured to the two wounds in his arm.

  Jemma closed her eyes. He got shot because of her. Twice. All because she had lied to him. She opened her eyes, and in them, Caid saw raw pain. “I hate him,” she growled as tears began to slip down her cheeks. “You have no clue what I went through living in that house. The nightmares I witnessed would make you sick. I grabbed the evidence I could, and I ran the second I was able.”

  “The thumb drive was leverage. If he came after you, you would turn the information over to police.”

  “Yes.”

  “How long ago did you take it?”

  “Three years.”

  “So then why would he come after you now?”

  Jemma took a deep breath. “Because someone saw me leave the gym with you that night. He must have had someone following me from day one. Probably a number of different people since I didn’t notice anything.”

  “So, they assumed you were leaving with me to give me the information.”

  “It’s the only explanation.”

  Cade laughed, but it was empty.

  “I don’t see what’s funny.” Jemma crossed her arms.

  “Of course you don’t. You are literally the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

  Jemma opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. What was she supposed to say to that? He could very well die because of her. How is that the best thing?

  “I am sorry for everything, Caid. I never wanted any of this. I just wanted a shot at a normal life. Is that so damn bad? It’s not my fault he screwed my mother, and it’s not my fault he is the person he is. That is on both of them.”