Protecting Medusa

by Elizabeth Andrews

  Ryder relaxed a bit more when they got onto the smaller highway to head toward Tallahassee. Less traffic made for easier car watching.

  Mena worked on the website, making the last tweaks she’d said she wanted to make.

  “Are you going to show me this website one of these days?”

  Her lips curved upward, but her gaze was unfocused when she met his. “Eventually. I keep finding little things that aren’t quite right.”

  “Perfectionist,” he teased.

  She shook her head, her attention on her work.

  “Hey, there’s a rest area a few miles away. How about if we get out and stretch our legs? Get a fresh soda. Something to snack on.”

  “Okay.”

  From the absent tone of her reply, he knew she wasn’t paying full attention to him.

  That was all right. He’d have her full attention in a few hours when they got checked into their next hotel, and he intended to hold her attention for a couple of hours, at least. He grinned to himself as he guided the car along the highway.

  Philomena caught herself humming as she finished the coding and stopped, typing one last command into the system. “There.” She smiled over at Ryder. “Done.”

  “For real this time?”

  “Yes, for real.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take a peek at it when we stop for the night.” She shifted her shoulders, feeling a twinge. Working in a moving car wasn’t something she’d done before, and it wasn’t comfortable.

  “Then we can share with Joel and Danny, right?”

  “Mm-hm.” She powered down the laptop and put it away, still trying to stretch her shoulders.

  “Need a massage?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a one-track mind?” She felt the blush creeping up her cheeks.

  “Never before.” His grin turned wicked. “I blame you.”

  Philomena shook her head, looking out the window when the car decelerated. The rest area. She did need to stretch.

  When he parked the car, she got out slowly, leaning to first one side, then the other to stretch her back. She shot a quick smile at him when Ryder’s hands landed on her shoulders, his thumbs digging into the tight muscles there. “Oh, that’s nice.” She shut her eyes, letting him work on the ache there until it eased a bit. “Thank you.”

  He kissed her cheek lightly. “No problem. Shall we?”

  She shut her car door. They’d parked nearly at the end of the available parking spaces, away from other vehicles, so they had a bit of a walk to the building housing the restrooms, refreshments, and other travel conveniences. The trek was nice. It was far warmer in Georgia this time of year than it would be at home in Pennsylvania.

  Philomena swung their joined hands as they walked, seeing Ryder’s smile from the corner of her eye. They strolled in the front door, and she glanced around. To one side, there were fast food counters and a newsstand. To the other, a convenience shop with more food and drink choices, as well as other things travelers might need. The restrooms were on the opposite side, flanking a door that led outside, and through which she saw an overgrown field with scrubby bushes throughout leading to a tree line farther away.

  “Pit stop,” she said, nodding toward the restrooms.

  Ryder nodded, and they walked in that direction, parting to go into the separate bathrooms.

  Philomena waited in a long line for her turn, then found herself humming again as she washed her hands. Her reflection showed pink cheeks and a faint smile curving her lips. She averted her gaze, not wanting to think too much about the source of her current contentment. She could blame it on finishing the website at last, but that would be a lie, and she knew it. Perhaps she could just enjoy it.

  She walked out of the ladies’ room and looked around for Ryder. Somehow, she doubted he’d had to wait. She found him in line at the convenience store at the other end of the large room, two soda bottles and some snacks in his hands.

  Still smiling, she started to cross the building, weaving between a woman with a toddler and a trio of teenage girls.

  “Excuse me.” A big, dark hand landed on her arm.

  Her heart pounded harder. Her gaze slid up over the scythe pendant at the man’s throat before meeting glittering black eyes.

  “You will come with me, Medusa,” the man said quietly. “I have a gun in my pocket, aimed at you.”

  Something was in his jacket pocket, she realized, and she didn’t think it was just his other hand.

  She was going to die.

  She shot a glance at Ryder’s broad shoulders as the Harvester forced her to the back door, willing Ryder to look her way. He’d been so good about sensing when trouble had found them the last two times.

  The man shoved her through the door.

  She’d never see Jason or Ryder or her mother. When the Harvester dragged her at his side, she stumbled into the long grass.

  Gods, I don’t want to die, she thought, her heart pounding up into her throat and cutting off her air.

  The man didn’t even look around to see if they were being watched. No one else was visible on this side of the building, not even a dog-walking traveler.

  She wanted to shut her eyes and give in to the panic, but she couldn’t. She stumbled again, then forced herself to her feet. He would not drag her through these weeds to her death.

  Philomena clenched her free hand at her side, and sucked in a quick breath as she brushed her leg. Her dagger. Holy Gods, she’d forgotten it in her panic.

  She shot the Harvester a sidelong glance, but his attention focused on the tree line not so far ahead now.

  If he dragged her in there, she was a dead woman.

  The next time her boot caught on a clump of long grass, she stumbled deliberately, tumbling down into the damp grass. She fell so her right hand was under the hem of her skirt, on the hilt of her dagger.

  “Get on your feet,” he growled, reaching for her arm once more.

  She whipped the dagger up at the same time he bent nearer, forcing the sharp point deep, high under his ribs.

  His dark eyes rounded in shock, probably to match her own. He jerked to one side, and the dagger sliced him even further. A horrible gurgling sound came from his chest. She yanked her hand backward, the blade catching a moment before tearing free. He tumbled to the ground beside her, and the gurgling stopped even though the blood pouring from his wound did not. His eyes stared sightlessly at her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryder hit the door and started running. He saw Mena’s back as the Harvester dragged her into the scrubby field behind the building. If the guy got her to the trees, he’d kill her. When she went down in the long grass, his heart stopped.

  After everything, he was going to lose her, here in this dirty field in The-Middle-of-Nowhere, Georgia.

  Hell, no!

  Then he saw the glint of her dagger when she thrust her hand up at the same time the Harvester bent over to grab her again. Dark blood spurted from the wound.

  His heart started beating again, much too quickly. He was still running, he realized, watching the Harvester lean to one side, tearing his flesh open wider on her blade. Then the man fell to the ground in front of her. No way could he live with that amount of blood loss.

  Mena leaned the other way in the grass and vomited, and as Ryder neared, he heard her crying.

  Oh Gods, he thought, stumbling to his knees at her side, giving the Harvester a quick glance to be certain he wasn’t breathing. No. Good. “Baby, are you hurt? Gods, I’m so sorry.” Pulse pounding too loud in his head, he wrapped his arms around her when her stomach was empty. He rocked her back and forth, gingerly feeling for injuries. His entire body shook, almost as much as she was trembling. He held onto her for a long time, trying not to think of seeing her fall and believing he was too late.

  Instead, he focused on what he needed to do now.

  When she took in a long, shaky breath, he caught her chin, tipping her face toward his.

>   Her cheeks were chalky white and streaked with tears, her green eyes red-rimmed and wide with horror.

  “I need you to focus for a little bit, baby,” he said.

  She stared up at him, and he hoped she wasn’t completely in shock. Not yet.

  “I’ve got to get you out of here. But first we have to wash off.” He didn’t look at her bloody wrist and sleeve, not wanting to draw her attention there. “I want you to close your eyes now, though. Just for a minute. Keep them closed for me, baby.”

  He waited until she’d obeyed him, shivers wracking her body, then pushed to his feet. He took a quick glance around to make sure no one could see them. Assured the coast was clear, he caught the Harvester by the ankles and dragged him into the nearby trees. He patted the man down, then took his wallet and the scythe pendant from around his neck. He realized there was a gun in the guy’s jacket pocket and left it there. Hopefully when he was found, they’d just think he was up to no good, which was true. Ryder didn’t have the time right now to dispose of the body more securely. He had a bigger priority.

  Back at her side, he took off his jacket and draped it around Mena. He wiped her dagger in the grass before sliding it into its sheath, then helped her to her feet, where she swayed. “You can open your eyes now, baby.” He cupped her face with one hand.

  Her wet lashes lifted, and she stared at him.

  “I need you to keep your hand inside my coat for now, okay? We’re going inside and get you cleaned up.” Adrenaline still zipped through his veins, though he tried to tamp it down.

  She nodded slowly.

  Definitely in shock.

  Ryder kissed her forehead lightly. “Okay. Ready?”

  Another slow nod.

  He guided her across the field, his heart pounding too fast. If anyone saw the blood, they’d be caught. He hoped one of the family restrooms designed for parents with small kids was empty.

  It was. He sent a silent thanks skyward for that.

  Once he had her inside, he took his coat off her shoulders, then unbuttoned her jacket, taking it off, too, and guided her to the sink.

  When she saw the blood, tears welled in her eyes, and she shook harder.

  “Shh. It’s all right now, baby,” he murmured, soaping up her bloody hand and his. “It’s all right. You’re safe.” The water sluicing off their joined hands was rusty with the Harvester’s blood. He noticed several tiny flecks of blood on her face and touched his fingers there to rinse them away. “We’re going to get in the car and hit the highway in just a minute.” He shut the water off, reaching blindly for a couple paper towels to dry their hands, then to wipe any faint splashes from the sink.

  “I’m going to be sick.” She turned away from him and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet.

  He held her hair away from her face while she heaved up the last of her stomach’s contents. Then he got her back to the sink to rinse while she cried harder.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Just a second,” he called, banking his impatience with whoever stood outside the door. “My wife is sick.”

  Some muffled comment reached his ears, but he ignored it.

  “Baby,” he murmured into her hair, “we’ve got to get out of here. I need you to focus for me.”

  Her breathing hitched, but she turned her wet face to his again. Tears still streaked her cheeks, and he thumbed them away.

  “I just need you to make it to the car, honey. Do you think you can do that?”

  She sucked in a ragged breath and nodded, struggling to stop crying.

  He used a damp paper towel to wipe her cheeks dry. Anyone who looked at her would hopefully just see a sick woman with pasty cheeks.

  “All right.” He wrapped her coat inside his and put the bundle over his arm. “I’ll help you, Mena.” He wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the door. “Breathe.”

  A harried-looking woman stood there with a squirming youngster. They stepped away when Ryder guided Mena out of the small room, as if to avoid their germs. Good.

  When they got to the car, Mena sank into her seat, eyes shutting as more tears slipped down her face.

  He fastened her seatbelt and hurried to his own seat. They needed to get the hell out of here. He’d already fucked up enough for today.

  He drove out of the rest area at a sedate speed, but once they got into traffic on the highway, he pressed harder on the accelerator, as much as he dared without getting them pulled over. No need to wave a giant flag for the police to notice them at all. “It’s all right now, Mena. You’re safe.” Noting the goosebumps on her arm below her sleeve, he cranked the heat in the car. Definitely in shock.

  He cursed himself for not waiting outside the ladies’ room. He’d thought about it when he emerged from the men’s room, but figured he had time to get them drinks and snacks before she got through the line bound to be in the women’s restroom. This was all his fault.

  After about an hour, he started searching for hotel signs. Mena shivered in her seat, arms wrapped around her middle, and tears fell periodically. After another half hour, he found a motel where it looked like they might be able to park in front of the room. He pulled in directly outside the office with its giant picture window.

  “I’ll be right back, baby.” After she dipped her chin once, he got out and locked the door. Checking in took only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. He kept peering out the office window to be sure she remained where he’d left her.

  He moved the car to the slot directly outside their door, which was at the far end of one wing of the hotel. Hopefully away from any other guests.

  He grabbed her suitcase and hustled her inside, feeling the wracking shudders still shaking her. “Come on. Get undressed. You need a hot shower, honey.” He helped her, then got her under the water.

  She opened her eyes, lashes spiky and wet. “I’m so sorry, Ryder.” The steam started to rise around her.

  His heart was breaking. “Baby, you have nothing to apologize for. This is all my fault.” He cleared his throat. “You get warm. I’m going to bring in the rest of our stuff. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

  She nodded, then turned her face up to the hot spray.

  He watched her for a moment, finally sliding the shower door shut before he left the little room. He went out for the rest of their things, keeping her coat bundled inside his as he grabbed his bag and her laptop, then shoved the car door closed.

  He thumbed on his phone. “Danny, we have a problem,” he said when his friend answered the phone. “Can you talk?”

  “Yeah, let me step outside.”

  Ryder went inside, kicked the door shut and threw the deadbolt. “A Harvester grabbed Mena when we hit a rest stop earlier. She had to kill him.” He dropped their things onto one of the beds.

  “Jesus.” Danny’s breath rushed out. “How did this happen?”

  “My responsibility. I thought I had time while she was in line in the restroom to grab drinks. I was a fucking idiot.” He banged his forehead against the wall beside the door.

  His friend sighed. “Okay, chill, man. Quit beating yourself up. Nothing you can do about it now. Where’s the body?”

  Ryder told him what he’d done. “Not my best work. I just wanted to get her the hell out of there.”

  “She’s your first priority.” Danny hummed, something he did when he was thinking. It had been a real bitch to make him stop when they were on a mission where total silence was required. “Okay, I know someone in the area who can finish the disposal, unless you want to just leave him there.”

  “If we leave him there, he’s bound to be found soon. I’m fairly certain people walk their dogs in that field. The smell is going to attract them, the blood in the field.” He opened his eyes. “I fucked up, Danny. Bad.”

  “You mean you’re not perfect? Wow, alert the media.” Danny laughed. “Get over yourself, Ryder. None of us is perfect. It’s just too bad your big mistake had to
involve Philomena. So I’ll call in the disposal crew and deal with him. You just get her taken care of.”

  “Don’t say anything to Aggie, okay?”

  “Christ, no. Why would I do that?” His friend sounded highly offended. Or, more likely, alarmed he might have to comfort an upset woman.

  Ryder smiled a little at the thought. “All right. I’ve got to go. Can you call Carys and tell her we’re going to want a different car, too? We’re close enough to Pensacola to get there tomorrow to get a new rental. No, wait, maybe the day after.” He thought about it for a second. “The day after tomorrow. I think we’ll hang here another night, just to make sure Mena’s okay.” They were too close to the rest area for his liking, but Mena’s well-being was more important than putting more distance between them and the scene of the crime, so to speak.

  “All right. I’ll have her shoot you an email with the details then. Man, relax, okay. I know you’re down there blaming this whole thing on yourself, but it’s not all on you. Those Harvesters are persistent. They’re going to take any opportunity they can to get at her. You just blinked at the wrong time. She’s safe now, so move the hell on.”

  Ryder knew that. He did. But it felt bad. Big. How could he have failed so completely?

  “Ryder? You listening to me?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got to go. She’s in shock. I’ve got her in the shower to warm up.” He dropped their coats onto the floor. They’d be trash, but he couldn’t leave them in the hotel trash. He should find a place to burn them.

  “Go. I’ll email you later.” Danny disconnected, and Ryder did the same, dropping the phone onto the bed with his bag.

  The water still ran in the shower, the little room’s exhaust fan inadequate to the task of handling the volume of steam from the bathtub.

  Peering through the mist, he found her sitting on the bottom of the tub, head on her knees. He wrestled with the laces on his boots, then shucked his clothing, stepping into the shower behind her.

  “Hey,” he said softly, squatting to rub his hand along her arm. “Are you warmer?”