In Plain Sight (Stolen Hearts) (21 page)

“Lunch is ready, Louis. Go get Cyrus,” Armand instructed. “I’ll bring these two in.”

Louis glared toward the trailer. “Maybe I should get the princess.”

Armand shifted his body until he blocked the beefy man’s view of the trailer. “Give her a break. She’s sick. I’ll bring her to the house in a minute.”

Louis lifted his upper lip in a snarl. “There better be nothing going on here. The boss is fed up with you lot, anyway.”

Rafe looked up in time to see Louis secure his gun in his underarm holster. He’d been a second away from drawing the revolver, and Rafe hadn’t even noticed. Some protector he’d turned out to be. And now they were running out of time.

Armand offered Rafe his hand to help him stand as Louis strolled out of the barn. “That one’s dangerous,” Armand said in a low voice.

“Far as I’m concerned, you’re all dangerous,” Rafe rasped.

“With the right motivation everyone is. Let’s get Bridget.”

He jerked his arm out of Armand’s grasp. “I’ll get her.”

“We go together. Shut up and listen. I made an extra set of keys to the SUV. They’re in the bottom of the green toolbox under a flat case of pliers. There’s no automatic lock. You’ll need to manually unlock the car doors. I left your phone on the floor where you dropped it.”

A charge surged through him. Was Armand setting him up or trying to help? “Why are you doing this?”

“I miscalculated. I never intended to put Bridget in danger. We’ve got maybe four more days before they shut us down.”

“Bullshit. You were interested in saving your own hide and didn’t care who got sucked in. Never mind.” He cut the air with his hand. “Where the hell are we?”

“Essex County, about forty miles north of Boston. The closest town is North Andover. I can’t remember the name of the damned road offhand, but it’ll come to me.”

Armand stopped at the trailer door. “Louis’s watch runs from midnight to six in the morning. He’d probably fire first and ask questions later, but he’s also the one most easily distracted. Cyrus is too professional to let anyone sidetrack him. A storm is forecast to move in tomorrow night. Heavy clouds will make it easier to move around and not be seen.”

“Why don’t you call the cops and tell them where we are?”

“My compatriots can trace the calls on my phone. Yours is clean. Plus, they watch me pretty closely. They try not to make it as obvious, but I’m as limited to move around as you.”

“So you’re not a partner?”

Armand barked out a bitter laugh. “I’m as much under the gun as you.”

“What about just driving away?”

“There’s a locked gate at the end of the driveway. Cyrus has the key.”

“And the fields aren’t negotiable?”

“The fields might be, but the roadside ditch isn’t. It’s waist high.”

“What happened to my bicycle?”

Armand’s expression lightened. “Good man. It’s still in the back of the SUV.” He opened the trailer door. “Here comes Louis. Look, I’ll help as much as I can.” Armand looked straight into Rafe’s eyes as if to make a point. “She’s not well. We need to get her out of here. You talk it over with Bridget tonight and let me know what you decide tomorrow.”

Like hell he’d tell Armand their plans. There was as much a chance Armand hoped to use them as a distraction so he could escape as there was that he felt remorse and wanted them to go free.

“Is the trailer bugged?” he whispered in Armand’s ear.

“Not the bedroom. Even I have my scruples. But the rest of the trailer, yes.”

Now all Rafe had to do was entice Bridget into the bedroom tonight. The way things had been going between them, that wouldn’t be an easy task.

He caught Armand’s arm to stop him from going to the bedroom. “I’ll wake her. Just to be clear, if we get out of this alive, I’m coming after you with everything I’ve got because of what you’ve done to her.”

Armand grinned sarcastically. “Americans. Underneath your veneer, you’re all cowboys.” With a shake of his head, he slipped past Rafe and out of the trailer.

Rafe checked the empty bunks and continued to the back bedroom. Bridget had pulled all the curtains so he could barely see her slight frame curled up in the middle of the bed. He sat on the edge and brushed a lock of hair away from her cheek. He watched the tip of her tongue wet her lips as she stirred awake. Her body went taunt as a bowstring as she stretched, and he stood and jammed his hands under his armpits to stop from running them up and down her body.

“Is it lunchtime already?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flew open. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Louis got a little overexcited.”

In one graceful movement, she knelt up in front of him and put her hand gently on his throat. Her eyes grew round and dark. “He scares me.”

“Me, too.”

“Why did he hurt you?”

Pain pulsed through his right hand. He probably needed ice on it. “Guess I got carried away, too. I punched Armand in the face.”

She glanced toward the house. “Is he all right?”

“Yeah. We gotta go. Louis’s on edge. He’d love a reason to come in here and pull us out of the trailer.”

She flopped down on her back and covered her eyes with her hands. “They’re relentless. They never take a break or give us one. God, no wonder I’m so tired. I’m sorry I involved you in this mess. I don’t blame you if you hate me.”

He took her hands and pulled her to her feet, bringing her into the circle of her arms. “Believe me, I’ve tried to stay pissed off at you, but it doesn’t stick.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s go to lunch before caveman comes in here and drags us out by our hair. I need you to eat to build your strength.”

She studied his face. “What’s going on?”

“Later.” He tugged her toward the door.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

There were all kinds of stupid. Did she mean stupid like risking his life? Or stupid like falling in love with her? He didn’t want to be in love with her, because all he could see was heartache. It wasn’t just the present situation; after his talk with Armand, he’d felt his first glimmer of hope that they’d escape. But once they were free, what then? How could he expect a woman like Bridget to settle down to a regular life—with him? Maybe even have children?

Seemed to him she’d been living on the edge for too many years, and the truth was he had nothing to offer her. As hard as it was, he had to start getting it into his head that their story didn’t have a happy ending. At least, not the happy ending he wanted.

***

Bridget could barely swallow the lunch Armand had prepared, despite the fact that he’d gone out of his way to prepare her favorite grilled veggie sandwich. The tension in the old farm kitchen stretched her nerves tight. Bruises had appeared on Rafe’s neck, and his right hand was swollen and obviously sore as he awkwardly used his left hand to pick up his sandwich. She would have liked to cut his sandwich in smaller pieces to help him, but didn’t dare with Louis’s bright eyes watching her, as if he were waiting for the right time to pounce. She suppressed a shiver at the thought that there might come a time when she’d have to face off with him.

Armand was unusually quiet, the area around his nose swollen and beginning to bruise. She hadn’t had the chance to ask Rafe why he’d hit him, but she could guess the answer. Rafe seemed to think he needed to save people, either from themselves or from someone else. In this case, save her from Armand. Although Armand had dragged them into this mess, she didn’t see what could be accomplished by beating him up. Strange, but she hadn’t given up on her old friend. She still thought of him as an ally.

She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’m going back to work.” Without waiting for an escort like she normally did, she hastened out the door and lifted her face to absorb the sunshine. She needed a couple of minutes alone to counteract the tension at the dinner table and to dissect Rafe’s answer when she’d asked if he hated her.

Not being able to stay mad at someone was a world away from loving them. How would he react when she told him she was going to have their child? She knew he’d make a lot of noise about taking care of the child and wanting to be part of its life, which was good. She covered her stomach with her hands. She didn’t doubt for a minute Rafe would be an incredible father. And maybe that was the only important thing to know. But she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever forgive her for endangering their lives and for…well, being who she was.

There were parts of herself she couldn’t change. She would always be independent to a fault. She entered the cool, shadowy barn and assessed her progress on the necklace. She needed to finish it over the next couple of days, but she also needed to concentrate on an escape plan. The necklace was to save Armand, the escape plan was for her and Rafe.

Five minutes later, she didn’t look up from her work when Rafe arrived and stood close behind her, looking over her shoulder. Cyrus, chewing on a toothpick, had followed Rafe to the barn and took up his post outside the door.

“Cyrus is the one who really worries me,” Rafe whispered in her ear. “I get nothing from that guy. Armand told me Cyrus has the key to the gate.”

She bent down further as if inspecting her work. “Not here.”

A second later she felt Rafe’s soft, warm lips skim the back of her neck and nip her earlobe. “Okay, boss lady. Tonight then. The bedroom’s not bugged.”

Heat sparked through her and curled low in her belly at the sound of his deep, soft voice in her ear. Tears bit at the back of her eyes. Why couldn’t they be a normal couple, doing normal things and sharing the excitement of having a child? Why was she forced to pay for her mistakes again and again?

She blamed Armand for pulling her back into his world, but had she in some way made it possible for that to happen? Was she so desperate to be loved that she made herself vulnerable to a criminal like Armand? Because no matter how she tried to avoid the truth by calling what he did a game, he was a criminal and took advantage of people.

She’d let him take advantage of her. She blinked back another attack of tears. And now she was doing the same thing with Rafe. Not that he’d taken advantage of her in any way, but she was creating a false picture about the truth of their relationship. Rafe didn’t love her. He wanted to get out of this alive so he could return to his life.

Okay, hang on to that thought. She was on her own. Well, she had Darcy, but yeah, she had only herself to rely on. Nothing had changed.

No, one thing had changed. She was going to have a child. A child she would never, ever let down.

She cleared the emotion out of her throat. “Did you finish everything before lunch?”

“No.” Rafe moved to the opposite side of the table. “I’ve still got one of the sections to clean. How many pieces like this are there?”

She pulled his section of the necklace toward her. “Can’t remember. Forty-two, maybe? You’re doing a good job.”

He grunted and started cleaning again as if her opinion didn’t matter one way or the other.

“Tell me what you’ve been doing since I saw you.” She needed a distraction from her worries and none could distract more easily than Rafe. Everything about him fascinated her.

He looked up, surprised. “You don’t know?’

“Know what?”

“The FBI arrested me.”

“No way! Your own brother-in-law put you in jail?”

“DeMarco, his buddy, did.”

“What happened?”

He poked the polishing pin inside a ring and let it eat away the dirt. “I had to do a month of community service. I’d just finished the last day when Cyrus picked me up.”

Her stomach performed one of its frequent loop-de-loops. How many times had she told him how sorry she was for everything that had happened? One more
sorry
wasn’t going to fix anything. “What did you have to do for community service?”

His eyes sparkled. “Worked with kids at this after-school center. I figured if they were going to make graffiti they might as well be creative about it.” He laughed. “We were working on graphic novels at the end. I’d planned to continue volunteering there.”

“That sounds great, Rafe.” She loved hearing the excitement in his voice, and she hated not being a part of his excitement. Is that what love did to you? Made you selfish?