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Emery had gathered enough evidence to prove the nefarious activities of a couple of Evers’s fringe companies over the course of the last few weeks. They’d still been denied operational authority to raid.
“The Russians have to be here on their own. For some other reason. Someone else wants you and your sister dead. I think it’s time we made use of Detective Smith,” Emery said.
“Really?”
“He wants the same thing we do. Fuck, he wanted to talk the other night. Said he had something to tell Aiden, but I forgot. I was too focused on you.” It was a potentially dangerous mistake. What if Smith knew something? What if he’d been trying to warn them? Emery’s single-minded obsession had him tripping up where he shouldn’t.
“What did he want to talk about?” Tori asked.
“I don’t know.” Emery scrubbed the side of his face. This wasn’t normal. He was usually on top of things, but the threat to Tori had overridden all priorities. “I’ve got to talk to Detective Smith.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“No way. Emery, we’ve got to stay off the grid, remember?”
He glanced at her, noting the lines of worry and wide eyes. She was awake now, and maybe even scared. He crossed the space between them in a single stride and gripped the edge of the counter on either side of her legs. There were a number of laws he’d broken to protect her, and he’d break more to keep her safe. These were truths he’d grown comfortable with.
“We can’t contact Smith. It’s not safe,” she said.
He hated seeing this strong woman afraid. Not that he could blame her. In her shoes he’d probably be halfway across the country by now, and with good reason.
“Tori, if these guys are as good as they’re supposed to be, they’ll find us eventually. We need help. We need Smith to at least run interference with the Eleventh and keep them off our ass while we handle this mob mess. If we can’t get it from CJ, maybe Smith will help us. We did him a solid calling him in for that arrest. He owes us.” And Emery would call in the favor on Tori’s account. When Aiden and Julian were debriefed on exactly what was going down, Emery did not expect things to go well. Shit was going to hit the fan, because he seriously doubted CJ would rock the boat right now with the crew. “Is there somewhere nearby we can go to use a pay phone? Something they can’t link to us?”
“Let me think.” She cradled her head in her hands.
He had to touch her. It had been over six hours since their last kiss, and nearly an hour and a half since he’d sat in the living room watching her sleep.
Emery wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to the edge of the counter, hugging her to his chest. She came willingly, resting her head against his shoulder and looping her arms around his neck. He felt her breath against his skin when she sighed. In his arms. He barely dared to breathe for fear of waking up and realizing this moment was a dream.
“There’s a campground. We passed it on our way here.” Her voice was slightly muffled, but he felt the vibrations down to his bones.
“Good.” He wished they had a different ride. The Tesla was flashy. Perfect for his role in Miami, but out here it would stick out. If they could acquire another set of wheels, that would be ideal, but time-consuming and risky.
“We should go now, before it gets too much lighter and people are up and around.”
“One of us should go—”
“No,” Tori snapped and sat up straight. “We don’t split up.”
“Okay. Then the faster we go, the better.” Did they pack everything up and take it with them? If Smith had something to tell them they might need to go fast.
Tori pulled him closer, squeezing his shoulders and burying her face against his neck. He gently hugged her, allowing his eyes to close and his senses to revel in the smell and touch of her body.
“We’re going to be okay,” he said.
She straightened, nodding, but made no other reply. For lack of anything better to say, he backed up a few steps, giving her space.
“I’ll get the food packed up. Can you get the bags?” She gathered the prepackaged foods back into the plastic bags, moving with purpose. It appeared she was making the call. They were preparing for another run. Another place to hide. Hopefully this time and place would provide them with more security—and a little privacy.
Emery didn’t know what to call this thing between them, but he wasn’t about to let it go. He wanted her. The Russians couldn’t have her.
* * *
Tori glanced at Emery’s profile as he drove. The newly risen sun bathed his face in a golden light she itched to reach out and touch. He calmed the panic in her soul and made her heart beat fast for a whole other reason.
She’d often imagined what sex with Emery might be like. How it would feel. His quiet demeanor had led her to think of him as a strong, gentle giant. Boy, how wrong she’d been. He hadn’t hurt her, but she’d been shocked and thrilled by his roughness and the barely contained power. But where did they go from here? What did it mean?
Last night she’d finally shoved her lust for Emery to the backseat and focused on the immediate needs—which did not include a stroll through her fantasies. Today, no matter how much she tried to focus on the dangers facing them and their crew, she couldn’t ignore the way her nerves bunched and tied themselves into knots every time she looked at him.
“Emery?” She turned to face him, giving in to the desire to simply look at him.
“Hm?”
How did she ask him without sounding pathetic?
Deep breath.
“About yesterday . . .” You know, when you fucked my lights out?
“Which part?” His calm, even tone gave nothing away. The jerk. Couldn’t he be as tightly wound as she?
“Is that going to change things?” She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t be obtuse this time.
“I’m going to assume you aren’t talking about the hit team or Greenworks or—”
“I mean between us, asshat.”
He glanced at her, the little thought lines bracketing his mouth. What did that mean?
“Yes,” he replied.
“Yes—what?”
“It changes everything.”
Not even her imaginary version of Emery said more. She stared at his profile, trying to puzzle out his words. They didn’t calm her or ease her mind. Change in a bad way? Or a good one?
“I want you safe. That’s got to be my first priority, then the crew. I can’t offer you more than that right now, but I have no intention of pretending like yesterday didn’t happen.”
Tori turned to look at the road, her mind abuzz with a hundred possibilities. She couldn’t argue with his logic; she could even get behind it.
“Tori?”
“That’s perfect. I don’t think I could forget either.”
She noticed the yellow-and-black KOA signs ahead of them. There were people moving around the RVs in the campground, but not much activity. It would have been better if they’d gotten up earlier to do this run, but it couldn’t be helped.
“While I call Smith can you see about ice?” Emery asked.
“Of course.”
He turned the Tesla into the campground, easing down the gravel path lined with palm trees. The first row of RVs sported container gardens and plastic pink flamingos. The residents clearly didn’t intend on moving anytime soon. There were a few people out sipping their first cups of coffee and enjoying the morning sunshine, but not many.
“How’s the car’s charge?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“What’s fine?” She peered at the dash but Emery cut the engine before she could see how many bars of charge the electric car had under the hood.
“We could go a couple hundred miles still.”
Emery parked the Tesla in front of what appeared to be the administration offices, general store, and hot dog stand all in one. A pay phone out front had wires hanging out from behind the unit. Not a good sign.
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br /> “I’ll find a phone to use,” he said.
“I’ll get ice.” Tori pulled out the handgun she’d stashed in the glove box and stuck it in her waistband at her back.
“Think you’ll need that?” Emery asked.
“You never know.”
She stepped out of the car and pulled the big, ugly aviators down to shield her face under the ball cap. Her hair was pinned to her scalp to hide her long, red hair.
The ground was damp with dew, and dust clung to everything. Her feet thumped on the wooden floorboards as she crossed to the double front doors of the general store. She glanced over her shoulder at Emery striding toward a group of older men, his cap pushed up and a smile she didn’t recognize on his face. It looked plastic and wrong to her, but only because she knew him.
She’d never seen him at work in the field, only at the garage when he was in his element. It struck her again that there was more to him than she’d ever guessed. He wasn’t just a tech, he was a dangerous field agent with the skill to mesh into any environment.
And he was on her side.
Tori pushed the doors of the store open and glanced around. There were a couple of dining tables on the far side where people were gathered for coffee and donuts. Several older women had their heads together, whispering furiously, their penciled brows arching at whatever was being discussed.
She smiled at the bored teen manning the register and glanced around for anything useful. Armed with a plastic basket, she grabbed a couple of packaged foods and a bunch of barely ripe bananas.
“I heard them. All night they were at it,” one of the ladies said loud enough for Tori to hear. She chuckled, amused that despite her harrowing experiences, the world still went on as normal for others.
“What were they doing?” another woman asked the first.
“Racing is what my Jerry said. Buzzing those awful cars up and down the road all night long. Didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
Tori’s blood turned to ice.
She didn’t believe in coincidences. If someone happened to be drag racing on this strip of road, it had to be the Eleventh. What if they were outside right now? What about Emery?
She almost bolted for the door in a blind panic.
One . . .
She could panic for five seconds.
Two . . .
Her heart nearly beat itself silly against her ribs.
Three . . .
She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. She’d seen rabbits freeze in front of her car before. Was this how they felt?
Four...
God, what about her sister?
Five . . .
Tori inhaled and grabbed something at random off the shelf in front of her, as if she’d been considering her options. She strolled past the women, but their conversation had moved on to where and when their relatives had served in the military.
She took her bounty to the register and handed it to the teen.
“Two bags of ice, please.”
“It’s outside on the left.” The cashier rang up her purchases and she paid, but her mind was a couple hundred miles away in Orlando.
Had CJ told the others of her defection? What did Roni think? Did she know? Was she okay? If they were sending a hit team after her, what about her sister? Was the Eleventh hassling them, too? Were there others going after her?
She accepted her change and threw out a polite, “Thank you,” before heading for the front doors. The beveled glass squares set into the wood made it difficult to discern more than blobs of movement outside. She took another deep breath and concentrated on the feel of the gun tucked into her waistband. The door swung open on well-oiled hinges. She swept her gaze over the campground, but didn’t find any thugs or out-of-place cars waiting for her.
Emery was nowhere in sight, which concerned her. He might blow her mind with what he could do, but he was still only one man.
She left the bag of goods on the hood and walked the dozen or so steps to the freezers. The cold air was better than a shot of espresso to her system. She wished she knew when the Eleventh had been here, but asking would have drawn the wrong kind of attention. She got two bags of ice, bumped the door shut with her hip, and turned toward the car.
Emery strode toward her. His expression was grim, but she couldn’t tell if it was normal grim or if he’d heard something similar to what she had.
“We need to leave,” she said in a low voice.
He didn’t reply, but the way he turned and swept the area, as if he was looking for something, told her all she needed to know. There was more danger than what she’d heard inside. They stashed their ice and food in the trunk, the tense silence drawing tight between them until the moment they dropped into the Tesla.
Emery didn’t bother with a seat belt. He started the car and reversed, his motions controlled and precise.
“I think the Eleventh was here. There were people inside talking about a bunch of cars racing last night.” She buckled her seat belt and pulled the gun out of her waistband, tucking it under her leg for easy access.
“I heard. The guys were all talking about a bunch of drag racing that happened along this street. One of their friends got forced off the road.” He barely glanced at her as he accelerated out of the drive and onto the road. He checked all the mirrors, peering maybe a bit too intently into the glass.
It wasn’t a coincidence then.
“They’re what? Scouting? Searching?”
“One of them must have tailed us at a distance and lost us around here. Probably trying to flush us out, make a lot of noise, get us to come out of hiding.”
In other words, exactly what Emery and Tori were doing now. It wasn’t what she’d have done. Her first move would have been to steal a car to blend in, get close and stay under the radar. If she had to guess, this was the Eleventh flexing their muscle.
“What did Smith tell you? Were you able to call him?”
“Yeah.”
She waited for a moment, but he didn’t share more.
“And?” she prompted him.
“He’s arranged for us to stay at a hotel.”
That wasn’t bad news.
“What aren’t you telling me, Emery?” She could sense his reticence.
“The cops are going to let Evers go in the morning. They appealed for bail and the judge granted it this time around.”
“What? Why? That doesn’t make sense.”
There were miles of proof that Michael Evers was a violent, dangerous criminal with the means to flee outside extradition. And they were letting him go.
“He couldn’t say a lot, but I think we’re in agreement on this. Someone in the FBI is covering for Evers. Otherwise, why isn’t he in federal custody? What do they want?” He slapped the steering wheel with his hand.
They’d spent hours speculating about the lack of movement on the Evers case. She couldn’t remember who’d thrown out the idea of federal shielding, only that once the thought was voiced it had stayed in the back of her mind. From the way others had whispered about the possibility, it was likely it wasn’t just her. And now they had something close to proof. In less than twenty-four hours they’d know for sure. Someone was playing a game with their lives, and that wasn’t okay.
“I don’t like this.” She peered ahead of them at the cars on the road.
“Neither do I.” Emery reached for her hand, wrapping his around hers for a moment. He pulled her hand toward his lips.
Her thoughts ceased as she watched him buzz her knuckles with a kiss. She felt the brief contact all the way to her core. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to crawl over into his lap, wrap her body around his and kiss him. She wouldn’t, but it was a nice thought.
“We’ll beat this.” He released her hand.
She wasn’t certain. CJ, Kathy, Julian, and Emery—the FBI would pull them out. They’d be protected. The rest of their crew could easily become collateral damage in this mess.
“Look out,” Tori blurted.
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She gripped the door and planted her other hand on the dash as a bright yellow car with a tall spoiler swerved in front of them, coming off the side of the road. Emery braked hard, shifting and cursing. The high-pitched rev of several engines heralded companions of the yellow car, whereas the Tesla’s electric engine was nearly silent.
“Go, go, go,” Tori chanted.
Emery accelerated, but the yellow car veered with them, cutting the Tesla off. Someone honked, reminding her they weren’t the only people on the road. Emery merged into the right lane and the yellow GT-R moved with them. They continued this dance, Emery jerking the car one way or the other, and the other driver mimicking his moves, forcing Emery to slow down in the process.
“Go faster.” Tori twisted to look out through the back window. There was a familiar silver Scion and what looked to be a red Lancer she might have seen a time or two.
“I’m trying. Hold on.”
She gripped the door and braced her feet on the floorboard.
Emery slowed the car even more, barely doing forty. Suddenly, he jerked the car into the left lane, except he pulled up halfway there. The GT-R didn’t recover, sweeping almost all the way into the other lane. Emery punched the accelerator, shifting as the electric engine shuddered and the car shot forward, passing the yellow car. Ahead of them, an eighteen-wheeler and a pickup truck blocked the lanes.
“Emery. Emery!”
The right two tires bumped along the grooved side of the road. The shoulder was narrow. Not even a full car-width wide. He kept the left tires on the white line and blazed past the truck within inches of clipping off his mirror.
She twisted to watch their six. The GT-R didn’t even attempt the maneuver, but she could see it bearing down, riding the truck’s bumper.
“Hold on,” Emery warned.
She sat her butt back in the seat not a moment too soon. He swerved and zigzagged through cars, using both feet on the pedals. Her heart beat in her throat, but not from fear. Never in her life had she imagined Emery handling a car like this. It was pretty damn hot—except for the whole running for their life part of it.