Gabby hadn’t been tired before then, but the moment he asked the question, she felt the burning in her calves and the dry dust of sleeplessness behind her eyeballs. It was late, she’d already walked farther than she usually did in a week, and she was far from home.
Suddenly she felt weak and vulnerable, and frighteningly out of place.
Her bravado of a few minutes earlier drained away, warning her that she’d been kidding herself. This wasn’t an adventure at all. It was real life, and it was real danger. But it was life-and-death danger and not just for her. If that bomb went off at dawn, people were going to die. That meant she didn’t have the option of being tired right now.
So she nodded. “I can make it. You got any more of that chocolate? I could use a sugar buzz.”
He chuckled low in his chest, the vibration running through her where their bodies pressed together, making her realize they were standing closer than she’d realized. “That’s my girl,” he said.
She felt him shift, felt him turn to face her and lean in, but she wasn’t prepared at all for what he did next.
He leaned in and kissed her.
* * *
Ty meant the gesture as a thank-you for her support, for her bravery, hell, for not losing it and breaking down in a quivering mass of tears, which was what he figured plenty of women in her position would’ve done.
At least, he told himself that was the intention. But the moment his lips touched hers, he realized the gut-punch truth. It was far more complicated than that…and far simpler.
He was attracted to her. The moment she’d stepped out of the shadows in that North End courtyard, he’d felt a click of connection, a flare of heat that was nearly as foreign to him as the openness of their e-mail exchanges had been.
And in that moment, he’d fallen a little bit in lust with the woman who’d accidentally become his friend.
He’d lied about his job and the real reason he’d contacted her in the first place, but over the months that followed, the things he’d told her had been real. He’d shown her pieces of himself that hadn’t seen the light for years, perhaps since even before Mandy, and there was nothing simple about that.
There was also nothing simple about kissing her, but the moment his lips touched hers, the moment he swallowed her startled gasp, he realized he didn’t give a damn about the complications.
She was sweet and soft in the darkness, a welcome respite from the nightmares. When her lips parted hesitantly beneath his, he deepened the kiss and touched his tongue to hers.
Power rose up inside him. Heat. Needs he’d thought burned out of him long ago swept through his body, reminding him of things he’d gone far too long without.
She moaned at the back of her throat, a sexy purr that nearly blasted him through the stratosphere on a surge of lust. Of want. Of need. Of—
Oh, hell, what was he doing?
Ty jerked away from her, breathing hard, aroused and ashamed at the same time. His heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at her in the moonlight, at the moist fullness of her lips and the way her full breasts rose and fell beneath her pink button-down shirt. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her again, to sink into the sweetness until everything else went away.
Instead, feeling like a jerk, he released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She almost hid the flinch, but he’d grown attuned to her movements and expressions over the past few hours, and he caught the faint wince, which made him feel even worse.
He reached for her hand. “Gabby, listen, I—”
“Don’t,” she said, interrupting him. “Please don’t. I understand.”
When she pressed her lips together and looked away, he said, “I don’t think you do understand. It has nothing to do with you. It’s me.”
“Let’s just forget about it.” She smiled at him, the expression almost reaching her eyes. “It’s not like it was a big deal. It was just a kiss after all, right?”
“Right,” he said automatically, hating the pressure in his chest that said it might’ve been more than that for him, complications and all.
“You said we were hoofing it?” she asked, forcing him back on a track he never should’ve left in the first place. “Where to?”
He turned away, then reached back for her hand. “The Wellbrook Halfway House. It’s at the edge of South Boston.”
She faltered. “Southie? Isn’t that where the worst of the looting is going on?”
“Yeah.” He locked his jaw, knowing that this was where things were going to start getting ugly. “Stay close. We’re headed into the war zone.”
* * *
They walked in silence, partly to avoid detection and partly because there didn’t seem to be much to say.
Gabby was proud of how she’d handled herself in the wake of that unexpected kiss. Then again, it wasn’t as if he was the first guy to give her the old standby line. It’s not you, it’s me. That’s what they said when they really meant, It’s you, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings, so I’ll pretend it’s my fault even though we both know the truth.
Her lips felt tender from Ty’s kiss, which had been rough and tender at the same time, and pretty much everything she’d imagined it might be, plus interest.
Arousal still buzzed beneath her skin, but her heart ached faintly from the letdown. She told herself to take the kiss for what it was—an exciting moment amidst too many others in a single night. But that rang false even to her.
The whole situation wasn’t an adventure; it was a disaster in the making. A runaway freight train of incidents that’d landed her on the run with a sexy agent who’d kissed her and pulled away, who’d shared himself with her only to reveal that he’d lied.
I want to go home, Gabby thought out of nowhere. She felt tears burn her eyes, matching in intensity the ache in her calves and feet. There was a dry rasp at the back of her throat. She told herself it was from thirst, not the sobs she held in her cheek.
“Here.” Ty unslung his knapsack and pressed two protein bars into her free hand. “Eat these and chase them with some water. You’ll feel better.”
She wanted to snap that she was fine, but they both knew she wasn’t, so she scowled and unwrapped the first bar as they walked.
She bit in and made a face. “You eat these things on purpose?”
“They may taste like salted cardboard, but they do the trick. You need to stop for a minute and rest your feet? Now would be a good time if you do. From here on in, we’ll be on high alert.”
She shook her head. “Let’s keep going.” Let’s get this over with.
It took them a solid thirty minutes to reach the halfway house, though thankfully they managed to avoid both the looters and the cops. Still, by the time Ty led her up a set of stairs, she was tired and edgy and tense.
Ty sounded equally frustrated when he snapped, “What the hell is going on here?”
“What’s wrong?” she said. “Don’t tell me this place has gone out of business, too?”
“No, but something’s not right. The Wellbrook Halfway House is supposed to be subsidized up the wazoo, but it looks like hell. The building’s practically falling apart.”
“Do you see Liam’s message?”
“Not right off the bat. Stay here for a second. I’m going to take a look.” He left her on the porch but returned in under a minute. “Nothing. Something tells me what we’re looking for isn’t written on the wall this time. I have a strong suspicion it’s inside the house, not outside. Problem is, that means we’ve got to get inside, and we’re not exactly within visiting hours right now.”
He knocked sharply on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked again, raised his voice and called, “Hello? Is anyone in there?”
After a third round of pounding and shouts, footsteps sounded inside and paused, then the door opened partway and stopped on the jangle of a safety chain.
A man’s voice, deep and gruff with age, said, “
For chrissakes, it’s nearly 2:00 a.m. Keep your voice down or you’ll wake the kids.”
“I’m sorry,” Ty said. “I wouldn’t have knocked, but this is quite literally a matter of life or death.” Then he paused, and Gabby could all but hear him wrestle with the decision of how much to reveal, how much to keep hidden. Finally he said, “My name is Ty Jones. By any chance did an older, dark-haired man leave something here for me—a message, maybe, or a package?”
“Hold on.” The door rattled shut, and the man called out something in an undertone, the words lost through the thick panel. There was a feminine query and a mumbled response. Then the door cracked open and a woman’s voice said, “What did you say your name was again?”
“Ty Jones, ma’am.”
“Are you with the Secret Service?”
Ty stiffened and Gabby felt a jolt of adrenaline at the hope that maybe, possibly, some of their questions could be answered.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ty said carefully. “How did you know that?”
The security chain rattled and the door swung inward. “I think you’d better come in.”
Chapter 6
Dear Gabby:
Sorry I haven’t been around much lately, sweetheart. Work has been…well, it’s been work. Lots of travel, lots of meetings, not a ton of downtime for email. My protectee is a good guy, though. He’s really trustworthy and good about noticing the people who work for him. That, and the things he’s able to get done…they make the hours worthwhile. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
[Sent by TyJ; June 6, 12:00:05 p.m.]
2:01 a.m., August 3 3 Hours and 37 Minutes until Dawn If Ty could’ve left Gabby outside where there was room to run, he would have done just that, but although they’d managed to avoid the looters on their way in, there was no guarantee that a knot of skirmishers wouldn’t turn their way at any moment. Besides, where could she run to? Without her cane or the familiarity of known streets, she was at least partly dependent on him for direction.
All of that meant she wasn’t any safer outside alone than she was inside with him, but the responsibility weighed heavily as he stepped through the door of the Wellbrook Halfway House and the man shut and locked it at their backs.
Ty’s flashlight beam showed the man to be in his midfifties, with a thick layer of laborer’s muscle beneath a white T-shirt and worn jeans. The woman hovering just behind him was thin and wore a striped track-type suit that was trendy in cut, chain-store in quality. She was probably a good ten years younger than the man, but they wore matching wedding bands and identical gaunt, tired expressions.
“This way,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her down a narrow corridor, which Ty’s flashlight showed to have yellowed wallpaper on the walls and thin carpeting on the floor. She touched a finger to her lips. “Quietly, if you don’t mind. Most of the residents sleep lightly, if at all, and we’re having even more trouble than usual with the little ones because there’s no electricity to run the fans.”
Ty urged Gabby ahead of him, wanting to keep his body between her and the older man, just in case things went south.
It didn’t feel like a trap to him, but he couldn’t have said exactly what it felt like. He was adrift without his usual teammates, without contact of any kind. Worse, the evidence he was seeing with his own two eyes was starting to add up and tell him impossible things.
When they reached the kitchen, the woman clicked on a battery-powered camping lantern. The light brightened the room, serving only to underscore the general shabbiness of the place.
The kitchen was restaurant-sized, and clearly set up to feed a hoard, with a huge stove, two refrigerators and a chest freezer tucked under the long vinyl-covered counter that wrapped around three sides of the room. A conference room table took up one end of the space, surrounded by enough chairs to seat fifteen or twenty people. The appliances were relatively new, and the glass-fronted overhead cupboards showcased a wide range of pots, pans and plates, but a wide crack marred one of the glass panels, and several of the cupboards were empty.
The overall impression was one of a once-successful operation running on a shoestring budget that only covered a fraction of the operating costs.
The woman gestured for them to sit. “Take a load off.”
Ty remained standing. “You have a message for me?”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “He said you were the impatient sort. He also said it was important for you to see, not just hear.”
“See what?”
“Sit down before your lady friend falls down,” the man grumbled from behind him. “She’s as white as a ghost.”
It wasn’t fatigue that had her so pale, Ty knew. It was nerves, if not outright fear. Knowing it, he took her hand and led her to one of the chairs. “Go ahead,” he murmured. “Remember, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
There it was again, that not-quite promise he couldn’t be sure of keeping, no matter how good his intentions or how hard he tried.
When he took the chair beside her, he kept hold of her hand. Looking from the man to the woman and back again, he said, “Who are you and what am I supposed to see?”
The need to hurry burned in his blood. Alongside that imperative lurked a twist of disquiet, though he couldn’t yet say why.
“I’m Leonore Wellbrook,” the woman said. “Lennie.” She waved to the man. “My husband, Tom. We run this place. As far as what you’re supposed to see, James didn’t say, exactly. We sort of figured you’d know.”
“James?”
Tom frowned. “James Sullivan, of course. Don’t you know him? Didn’t he send you? Isn’t that why you’re here at this godawful hour in the middle of a blackout?”
Lennie patted her husband on the arm. “Of course he knows James, dear.” She smiled beatifically at Ty. “He’s our angel. We wouldn’t still be here if it weren’t for him. He’s kept us going this past year.”
Ty felt like he was lost at sea. Sullivan was the name of Liam’s ex-wife, the name his sons had taken after the divorce. It stood to reason that this “James” was an assumed name taken by one of the sons, or more likely by Liam himself. But none of the rest of it made sense.
If there was a pattern here, he wasn’t seeing it. Or more accurately, he didn’t want to see it, he acknowledged inwardly.
Look at this, Liam seemed to be saying. Look at what’s become of your hero’s campaign promises.
“I was in the area a couple of years ago,” Ty said slowly, feeling his way. “This place looked like it was doing fine back then.”
“We were,” Tom agreed. “Two years ago, we upgraded the kitchen and the bedrooms on a federal grant. We even ordered a new heating system and all new pipes because they assured us there’d be another twenty thousand coming. All we had to do was apply for it, they said.” He took his wife’s hand. “We got our pictures in the paper shaking hands with the mucketymucks. They took a few shots with some of the kids we had staying here, and then boom, they were out of town on their little feel-good campaign trail. The next thing we knew, there were bills due and the grant money up and disappeared on us, thanks to Grant Davis pulling the plug on the program.”
His wife took over the story on a heavy sigh. “We’ve been trying to catch up ever since. Lord knows, we would’ve been foreclosed on six months ago if it weren’t for James. He’s sent us enough to let us keep our doors open. Like I said before, he’s our angel.”
“James isn’t who you think he is.” A cool wash of anger chilled in Ty’s blood. “There must’ve been some sort of glitch in the paperwork. I’m on Vice President Grant’s protection detail, and I know him pretty well. He’d never renege on a promise, and he sure as hell wouldn’t leave a place like this high and dry.”
“Then begging your pardon, he’s not who you think he is.” Tom rose to his feet and pulled a flashlight out of his back pocket. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Torn between needing to know and wanting to get them both the hell out of t
here, Ty stood and pulled Gabby to her feet beside him. “You can show both of us.”
Lennie stood. “Actually, I’d like a moment with Gabby. Please.”
Ty hesitated. Logically, he knew these people weren’t on his side. They were Liam’s friends, and somehow Grant Davis’s enemies. But they also appeared to be the glue holding the Wellbrook Halfway House together, and he saw a dignified plea in the woman’s clear, tired eyes. Not deception. Not a threat.
He turned to Gabby. “What do you think?”
“I’ll go with her,” she said without missing a beat, and squeezed his fingers. “I’ll be okay.”
He nodded, knowing she’d pick up on the gesture even though she couldn’t see it. Wishing he could give her one of his weapons, just in case, but knowing he couldn’t, he let go of her hand. “Yell if you need me.”
“We’ll be fine.”
Then she was gone, with Leonore leading her out of the kitchen through a second darkened hallway. The camping lantern cast a globe of light that flared and then died with the distance. Their footsteps creaked on the stairs, and a child’s fitful cry from the second floor suggested Tom had been right when he’d said the occupants of the halfway house didn’t sleep soundly.
The women’s footsteps turned a corner, and Ty heard a door shut quietly upstairs. When there were no shouts or sounds of a struggle, he let out the breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding, and turned to the older man. “What did you want to show me?”
Tom turned away and gestured with his flashlight. “This way. And brace yourself. I have a feeling you’re not going to like it.”
* * *
Upstairs, lennie guided Gabby into a small room that smelled of crowding and sleep, with an overtone of cheap air freshener. A bedroom.
“We’d normally have three or four kids staying in here together, or a family,” Lennie said, her voice low in deference to the others Gabby could sense on the second floor. “But we lost some to the mob.”
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