Dare You to Run (26 page)

Something shot through him. An emotion he hadn't realized was missing in his life.

Well, that's because you've been too busy being an ass …

He'd forgotten about how she made him feel, in the dark hours of the night, when the only thing that would comfort her was his presence. No witnesses, no one to impress with her conquest of him. Just the pure reaction between them, the reality of how much peace she found in his embrace.

She'd never admitted it.

And that had cut him deep.

He realized it now, was staring at the truth of what had fueled his anger. He wanted her to need him more than anything else. He wanted her to admit it and be unable to walk away from him just as sure as she would be incapable of cutting off her own hand.

Love? It was complete dependency.

Certainly more than a four-letter word or a polite term. Somehow, from the moment he'd pulled her out of that concrete hole and seen the determination in her eyes to live, he'd been connected to her completely. Even his own stubborn pride couldn't snap the link joining them.

So how in the hell was he going to get the rest of the world to leave them the fuck alone? He'd like to say he'd just tell them all to screw off, but he was smarter than that. Life wasn't fair. That was the fear he'd seen in her eyes when she'd come to his house to warn him, the sick realization that the deck was stacked against them. She hated it just as much as he did, but she hadn't been able to find a way around it.

Except to come to him.

He stroked her hair again, soaking up the details, which confirmed she was lying in his embrace. She was there and he wasn't going to let the odds shake him up.

“Quit” wasn't something he did.

Ever.

 

CHAPTER SIX

“You're holding something back.”

Damascus had been hoping to avoid the conversation.

Yeah, like that was really going to happen.

Vitus was watching her, his gaze just as keen as always while she ate breakfast. She felt the tension building in her neck as she neared the end of the meal, her hand starting to tremble just a little as she scooped up the last of her scrambled eggs.

“What is it?” he asked the moment the fork disappeared inside her mouth.

Damascus wiped her lips and swallowed. “Good morning.”

He wasn't impressed with her attempt to change the topic. He was leaning back in a chair across the small breakfast table from her, looking perfectly at ease, unless she studied his eyes. The truth was there in their blue depths. He was intent on getting information out of her.

“Talk, Damascus.” He straightened and laid his hands on the table. “You want in on the planning? Fine. Disclose what you know.”

“I have.” It wasn't precisely a lie.

He shook his head.

“That's it,” she insisted. “Just because you don't like the fact that I want to deal with Jeb face to face doesn't mean I'm holding out on you.”

“No, it doesn't,” he agreed.

“Oh, so what you're really saying is you don't trust me.” He frowned, but she didn't give him time to dissect her comment. “Not that it matters. We can't just spend the rest of our lives hiding out and looking over our shoulders. The only logical action is to return.”

She pushed her chair back and left the kitchen. Saxon was sitting in the other room listening to every word, so there was no point in arguing further. She wasn't going anywhere until Vitus and his team made the call on it.

Or was she?

Damascus considered the area around the cottage. It was majestic with greenery and snowcapped peaks in the distance. There was also a road, but there wasn't a car in sight. There wasn't another building for that matter, but Dunn had come from somewhere.

“Twenty-six miles.”

She jumped and turned to discover Greer behind her. He pointed at the road. “Twenty-six miles before you come to the first town.”

“That means there's a car around here.” She said.

“And there are some rather nasty people waiting for you back where you come from.”

“Oh please.” She decided to go on the offensive. “As if you'd ever duck into a hole and hide. So why are you sitting silent while Vitus and Saxon expect me to do so?”

“Keeping my mouth shut has its uses,” Greer offered. “I learn a lot that way.”

She considered his answer for a moment because it sounded like there was a wealth of meaning in it. His expression suddenly changed, his attention moving from her face to the air.

“Oh.…
shit
,” he grunted.

Damascus turned around, but the road was still bare and the water was still rushing past.

“Come on.” Greer reached out and grabbed her bicep, pulling her back with an urgency she was still trying to find a cause for.

“What?”

“Drone.” He pointed at a small flying craft and tugged her toward the cottage. “Walk naturally.”

He draped his arm across her shoulders. “We'll hope it's a local with a splash of nerd curiosity.”

She felt how tense he was but he kept their pace slow as he guided her back to the cottage. The buzz of the aircraft was intensified by the tight set of Greer's body. Making every step seem longer, the distance between the cottage and them seem greater.

“Drone flyover,” he announced as he pushed her through the door of the cabin then closed it.

“Damn it,” Vitus snarled. He grabbed a pair of binoculars hanging off a peg near the door and went to the window. Everyone waited while he searched the area.

“We have to assume it was looking for her.” Vitus didn't like what he was saying, but he replaced the binoculars and shot a look toward his brother. “Our cover's blown.”

“We can't chance it in any case. Let's clear out,” Saxon agreed.

She'd expected to feel more of a sense of victory, or at least of relief, but all she really noticed was how tight her chest was.

And how truly scared she was. Her plan included her safety, and that was the only promise Colonel Magnus had given her.

Well, you hadn't expected Vitus to show back up.

True, but details didn't really matter. Life wasn't fair and she knew better than to expect it to be kind. She'd lived all her years as a commodity, with the rare exceptions of when she was with Vitus. Colonel Magnus might be offering her a haven but only because she was something he needed.

There had been moments of wonderful sweetness, delivered up so unexpectedly by her circumstances. Last night was one.

It looked like she was going to have to live on those crumbs, because her stolen moments with Vitus were about to end.

*   *   *

“Shit … you were right dude.” A happy chortle came out of the teen's mouth as he peered at the couple on the screen, his fingers on the joystick of his prized drone. “Right on. That means I get paid double, right?”

Pratt nodded. “I need a copy of that footage first.”

“Sure thing. Let me set Nessie down first.” He was intent on the screen for a moment, controlling the drone. There was a buzz as it came back into view, then the kid brought it in for a landing. He set it down on the road and ran over to pick it up. Pratt didn't see the need for speed since they hadn't seen a single car in the hour they'd been there.

But it worked in his favor to be on his way as soon as possible. The kid came back carrying his drone and placed it carefully in the bed of the pickup pulled alongside the road at the edge of the property line between public land and Dunn Bateson's land.

“All right then.” The kid was rubbing his palms together, excitement brightening his face. He poked at the keyboard of a laptop as he transferred the flight data to a USB drive. He jabbed at the keyboard, nodding as the data transfer completed. There was a chirp from the laptop when it finished. He pulled the little drive free.

“Pleasure doing business—”

The kids face froze as he looked down at his chest. Pratt put a second bullet into him as blood soaked the shirt the kid was wearing. He made a few wheezing sounds before his knees began to give way. Pratt reached down and hooked him by one thigh, lifting the kid up and into the back of the pickup truck next to the drone.

“Nothing personal,” Pratt told him as the kid's eyes started to fix and life left him. “Just business.”

Pratt fished the key out of the kid's pocket before tossing a tarp over the body, making sure it was completely covered. He slipped behind the wheel and closed the door. Rain was starting to fall. He tried to establish a hotspot but the remote location defeated him. Pratt settled for turning the engine over and pulling away from the side of the road. At least there was a use for the location; it would make it easy to hide a body.

If his luck held, he'd be able to add three more to the pile within a few hours.

*   *   *

“I'm staying here.”

Saxon turned to consider Greer.

“If they know she was here, I want some evidence.” He'd changed into camouflage clothing complete with rain gear. “I'm going to stake the place out.”

“Alone?” Saxon inquired.

“That's too risky,” Vitus added.

“Didn't say I'd be on my own.” Greer selected a high-powered rifle that was sitting in a gun rack mounted by the front door. “I'm not stupid.”

He offered Damascus a wink before he slipped out the door and into the afternoon rain.

“Are you really going to let him go?” she asked.

Vitus's expression was grim, but he reached out and hooked her upper arm. “Resources are thin, Princess. I have to move you.”

There was a dedication in his tone that cut her deep.

“I'm sorry.” It was the only thing she could think to say as Vitus took a look around before escorting her to a waiting car. Saxon had slipped behind the wheel and had the engine running.

“Greer may surprise you,” Vitus said. He held the door open for her, and she slid in as rain splattered her in the face.

“Oh, I don't think he isn't capable. Far from it.”

“Smart girl,” Vitus said before he closed the door.

Saxon was watching Greer as he climbed further up onto a ridge that overlooked the cottage and disappeared into the grass. Vitus settled into the front seat next to his brother.

“Get comfortable Ms. Ryland,” Saxon informed her. “We're taking the scenic route, just in case we have a tail.”

*   *   *

Pratt decided that he hated northern California. It was too damn empty. He knew how to hide among people who were so smashed together, they ignored one another. Every time he pulled up to a town, the locals took notice of him, leaning to peer out of a window or lifting their glasses up to him in a toast. As if he wanted anything to do with any of them. Why weren't they staring at their cell phones like the rest of the modern world?

Fuck it. The only thought that kept his temper from exploding was the knowledge that he was driving around with one of their own in the bed of his truck. Bet that would raise a few eyebrows.

Darkness helped, allowing him to park behind a local tavern and hack into their internet. He pushed the information through to the Raven and Tyler Martin but made sure he put a copy in a safe place just in case he needed it. A dog started howling, loping across the parking lot to sniff at the bed of the truck. Pratt cussed, pulling away from the only promise of hot food for miles around. He consoled himself with the knowledge that nothing he might have found inside the local greasy spoon would have even come close to the food found in the French Quarter.

His belly rumbled but he headed down the road, telling himself to get on with business so that he could go back home.

*   *   *

“I'll get someone on locating who had the drone,” Dunn Bateson said. “Around here, there can't be too many of them.”

“It might have been brought in,” Vitus said.

Dunn nodded. “It's a place to start while we wait to see if Greer has any luck. I sent a few boys up to help him.”

Damascus felt her blood chill. “I need to return to Washington.” All the men turned to consider her. “I can't sit here while you continue to risk yourselves for me.”

“I told you before, Damascus, that's a bad idea.” Vitus rejected her request.

“And I told you, I'm not going to sit here. It's not logical.” She aimed her attention at Dunn. “Surly you can understand my argument? This won't be over until I face Jeb, so I should just get on with it. We are just treating symptoms—I need to get to the root cause of the infection. That's Jeb.”

Dunn was leaning against a granite kitchen counter. On the outside, the building in San Francisco looked about a century old, but inside it was sleek and modern with everything she would have expected to find in a New York high-rise.

“I admire your spirit,” Dunn replied. “But not your thought process.”

“Oh really?” Damascus asked. “Where did I get off track?”

“Carl Davis,” Dunn fired back. “He's involved, and he's a much bigger dog to go up against. That man is poised for a successful run to the White House because he's carefully cultivated enough support to ensure he makes it. He's decided you're part of that image. That won't be an easy thing to avoid.”

“So what?” Damascus cut back. “I know where his soft spot is.”

“And what might that be?” Vitus asked softly.

Damascus knew the tone. It made her bite her lip as she contemplated the man shooting holes in her reasoning. There was a knowing glint in his eyes and she realized she only had the strength to keep one secret from him.

“He's gay.”

There was a snort or two and a soft word of profanity.

“According to the news, he thinks you're his fiancée,” Saxon said.

Damascus held her hand up and wiggled her fingers to make sure they all saw how bare her ring finger was. “I told him no. Not that he listened to me. Of course not. He and Jeb made some pact and I'm sure Jeb told him what an obedient little wife I'd be. But he's gay. He told me so, even gave his blessing to you and me continuing to be lovers as some sort of bargaining perk.”