Dangerous Attraction: Part Three (Aegis Group) Page 2

  “Maybe you should sit down, let someone take a look at—”

  “Shut it, Mullins.” The last thing Travis needed was someone hovering over him because of a couple scratches.

  “Morning, Bliss.” Jade breezed past Travis and handed Bliss a cup of coffee. “Connor needs to ask Travis a few questions. Think you can come with me?”

  Bliss nodded, never once looking at him.

  Travis had screwed up. Not only did he allow his doubt to get the better of him, his rash actions put Bliss and others in danger. That was on him. All of it. The shootout. The potentially dead officer. His fault.

  “Right. This morning, what happened?” Connor planted his hands on his hips and stared Travis down despite the difference in height.

  “Home office booked my travel back, I went to the rental agency, and when I got there I changed my mind. Decided to stay. Figured it wasn’t a good idea to show up empty-handed, so I stopped for some flowers.” Flowers which had at least made it into the backseat of his SUV before he’d forgotten about them.

  “That’s when Daniel jumped you?”

  “He must have tailed me. Marcus said something about one of the undercover cars missing?”

  “Yeah, car and the dead cop were in the florist’s parking lot.”

  “Shit.”

  “Like you said, Daniel knew where she was. Time of death was way before you bailed on her.”

  Fucking Irishman. Had to rub salt in that wound, didn’t he?

  “So, what happened? You had an OK Corral showdown?”

  “I came out of the shop, Daniel stepped out of his car and fired at me. I dodged, it grazed my shoulder. Landed behind the SUV, got some glass in my calf.”

  “Bullet looks like it grazed you and then broke the van’s window next to you. I’d say it’s safe to assume that’s what you got cut on.”

  “Okay, so I pulled my back-up weapon, returned fire, he shot at me, I returned fire, and he left on foot. Any stolen cars reported recently?”

  “Nothing yet, but they’re getting security footage from the area, looking for him or how he got away. This is a load of shit.” Connor shook his head. “Are you even technically employed on this case?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Cops are going to have a field day with you if they don’t catch Daniel.”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Shoot him.”

  Travis curled his hands into fists. The damn agent was on his last nerve.

  “I’ll call Dmitri and Ben, see what the scene is like. Maybe we can head this off. You’ve been a real pain in the ass, but you do good work.”

  Travis glanced in the direction Jade had taken Bliss. An hour apart and he’d lost her. God, he was a screw-up.

  “What about her parents?” he asked.

  “On their way in. Figure we can keep everyone under one roof until we smoke Daniel out.”

  “Except Wendy.”

  “Yeah, pain in the ass that husband is. Hey, what if you get your guy working on finding them with Lali?” Connor pressed his cell to his ear.

  “Right.” Travis tapped out a quick text to Gavin. The kid was going to hate this request, but they were running low on options.

  Connor turned his back on Travis, exchanged a few words, and hung up.

  “Right. So why you?” Connor asked.

  “Me?”

  “No, the asshole standing next to you. Yes, you. What happened out there when you snagged Bliss?”

  “Nothing. Ethan and Mason talked to him. He shot Ethan, cut the other vic, and ran.”

  “But now he has you tied up in all of this. He knows you and Bliss are involved and that you’ll come for her and her sister. Maybe you’ve become his—what? Arch-nemesis?”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re the one with a big target on your back. He must have a plan, but he thinks you’ll ruin it, so he has to take you out first.” Connor’s gaze slid off Travis. He stared at the wall and tapped his phone into his palm. “He hasn’t really splintered or gone on a spree yet. It’s more like he’s adapting, which these fuckers don’t always do well. What’s holding him together?”

  “Bliss said he has a god complex.”

  “Maybe this poor bastard thinks he’s really in control of it all. Perhaps we need to shake his control a bit. Hold onto that thought.”

  Travis watched the agent retreat to the case boards set up in an adjoining conference room. The glass walls hid nothing. Table upon table of evidence and documentation. In the middle of it all were glass jars. The ones Bliss had told him about. What plan was the agent cooking up? And would it work?

  “Mind giving me a hand?”

  Bliss steeled her nerves and turned toward Travis. She’d avoided him since they arrived at the station, hiding out in the break room after answering Jade’s questions. Her emotions were too mixed up for her to make sense of them, and she wasn’t fond of making a spectacle of herself. The FBI agents were politely ignoring whatever it was she’d had with him up at the lake, but her parents wouldn’t.

  Travis held a first aid kit in his hand, and his jacket was folded over his other arm. Blood soaked his shirt, and there were several small scratches on his face he hadn’t had when he left her that morning.

  “Sure.” What else was she supposed to say?

  Bliss pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit.

  He plunked the kit onto the table and peeled his long-sleeved thermal shirt off. Her mouth dried up, and her fingers itched to trace his ladder-like abdominal muscles. Forget about what was really going on for just a few minutes. Pretend they were still in that happy place.

  Blood smeared down his left arm and shoulder. A pencil-wide gash tore across the top of his bicep, partially scabbed over with bits of cloth stuck in it.

  She must have made a face.

  “It doesn’t hurt that bad. Bandaging it will go faster with help.”

  “Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”

  “For this? No point.” He handed her a bottle of peroxide and pulled out some bandages. “Let’s do this over there.”

  He crossed to the sink, leaving her no choice but to follow him.

  This was exactly the kind of thing he’d tried to explain to her. The dangers of his job. It was a hard thing to wrap her mind around, even with a front row seat. He considered a bullet wound no big deal. It was a perspective she didn’t think she could understand.

  “Do it,” Travis said prompting her to action.

  She poured peroxide along the length of the wound, wincing as it bubbled and fizzed. He simply stood there, staring past her to the wall beyond as if it didn’t hurt at all.

  “There.”

  He glanced at the wound and picked out a few bits of lint and stray fabric that stuck to the scab.

  “Grab the bandages?”

  She snagged the pre-packaged gauze and tape, plus an anti-bacterial ointment packet. He leaned down and she applied the topical medicine, not once looking at his face. She couldn’t without the overwhelming tide of emotions doing funny things to her. There was something soothing to the action of patching him up, but she was still...unhappy.

  He left her. He came back, but why? Out of some obligation? Because Daniel had surfaced? Or had he wanted to? Nothing made sense, and quite frankly, she was hurt.

  “You have every right to be mad at me,” he said.

  “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You don’t have to. I screwed up. I woke up this morning, realized what I’d said, and freaked the fuck out. I’m sorry.”

  An apology was all well and good, but it didn’t sooth the ache inside or bridge the chasm between them now. He’d broken the understood promise. What would stop him from running again?

  The mental snapshot of Travis’ face when he jumped out of the SUV on his way back to her tugged at her guilt strings. He saved her when he didn’t have to. Without him, she could already be dead. They were on a rollercoaster, being jerked
around. She should cut him some slack, though a part of her also wanted him to grovel for her forgiveness.

  She did understand his explanation. Hadn’t she freaked out? The only difference was she hadn’t left. Of course it was natural to panic, considering the depth of what they’d said to each other. But he could have talked to her. He could have suggested they slow down, take some time to think about it. Instead he made a decision for both of them and left. An apology was nice, but it didn’t change what had happened.

  “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Are you sure it’s fine?”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not—”

  “You’re not good at this stuff?” She cut the last bit of tape and stepped back.

  “No, I’m not. I screwed up. I realize that. What can I do to fix it?”

  “I don’t know. You didn’t even talk to me. You wouldn’t give me a chance to understand or suggest something else—it was this is how it’s going to be. I don’t know if I want to be with someone who doesn’t consider how I feel or what I’m thinking before deciding things with no input from me.”

  “You’re right.”

  “And what’s to say you wouldn’t do the same thing again? What if this is just how you are? Here one minute and gone the next. That’s not okay.” She sucked in a breath and blinked her eyes.

  No, no, no, no tears!

  “I’m not used to anyone relying on me. My longest relationships have all been shorter than this. I fuck up, but I do learn from my mistakes.”

  She wiped under her eyes, hating how stoic Travis could be about this situation.

  He left her.

  Yeah, he came back, but he left her when she’d trusted him to be there.

  She didn’t know if she had it in her to trust like that again. This whole ordeal, the nightmares, she blindly allowed herself to pin all her trust, with no reservations, on this man. And he failed her.

  Yes, it was crazy to expect anyone to be perfect, but when she needed him there with her, he was gone.

  She had to get away from him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Bathroom.” She wrapped her arms around herself and strode out of the break room.

  It was hard to make anything out with tears making her vision hazy, but she stumbled into the women’s restroom and splashed water on her face. The cold chill of it woke her brain up a bit. By some miracle she was alone. There wasn’t anyone around to hear her crying or pester her about what was wrong.

  Travis was an amazing man, but he wasn’t perfect. She’d needed more from him than he could offer, and it had broken their trust. Whose fault was that?

  The bathroom door opened on a long, slow squeak.

  Great. Just what she needed. A witness to her breakdown.

  She glanced at the newcomer. Was it too much to hope it was Jade?

  “What are you doing in here?” she blurted out.

  Travis had his shirt back on and his frown in place. He flipped the bathroom lock and stalked toward her.

  “You can’t be in here. This is a women’s restroom.” She jabbed her finger at his chest.

  “You can’t run from me.”

  “Yes, I can. You did.”

  The air left her lungs.

  She did not just say that.

  Travis’ lips compressed into a tight line. She’d drawn blood with those words.

  “I didn’t—I shouldn’t have said that.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at his chest.

  “I deserved that. Tell me you want me gone and I’m gone.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Was it her imagination, or did she hear the tape pulling?

  She opened her mouth and closed it.

  The anguish of losing him all over again was an ache deep in her bones. She didn’t want it to be over with him, but they’d lost something special. They’d lost the trust. Her blind belief in him was gone.

  How did she put her feelings into words? How did she begin to tell him?

  “I don’t know that you’re not going to leave again. I can’t trust you when you say that. You left. You left me alone.” Sure, he had a life and a career that didn’t involve her, but for a few minutes they’d flirted with the idea. They’d wanted to make it work. Didn’t that mean something? Weren’t they something to each other?

  Travis wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face in his chest. She was angry with him, and she still loved him. He had more power over her than Daniel, more pull on her fears and hopes than the worst nightmare to ever walk Vegas.

  “That was the worst decision of my life, darlin’. If I could go back and kick my own ass, I would. I don’t deserve another chance, you’re right.” He kissed the top of her head, and she clung to him, melting from the inside out.

  The unspoken statement hung in the air so clear she thought she heard him say, But I want a second chance.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked instead.

  She’d never heard Travis sound hesitant or uncertain before, and she didn’t like it. If she stopped thinking about herself, she knew they were both going through something here. It wasn’t just about her.

  Bliss leaned back and stared up at him. She wasn’t the only one scared of what was happening between them, she just chose to react in a different way.

  “No.”

  He squeezed her a bit tighter.

  “I’m used to handbooks and officers barking orders. I’m going to screw up, but I promise no repeat issues.”

  “I think I saw a Relationships for Dummies once.”

  “I’ll get a copy. Do they have one for boyfriends?”

  Oh... Her body flashed hot and cold.

  “Too soon?” he asked.

  “No, I’m just—processing.”

  “I’m not used to people relying on me outside of the SEALs, but if you’ll give me another shot, I’ll do better.”

  “It’s a two-way street. People in relationships,” the word and all its implications made her shiver, “rely on each other. I think it’s too soon for us to stick a label on this. Don’t argue with me, okay? You freaked out. I think it’s reasonable to say maybe we jumped in too fast.”

  “I don’t know any other way.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.” He spoke with the determination of someone with conviction. A man with his mind set on one goal. Her.

  “I hope you don’t.”

  She slid her hands up his arms and over his shoulder, mindful of his wound. They were a messed up couple, but they had each other.

  Travis tightened his grip around her waist and dropped his head.

  “I could take you away from here,” he said.

  “Where would we go?” She chuckled.

  “Anywhere. Jamaica. The UK. Thailand. Somewhere far away.”

  She pulled back a little and looked up at him. Oh, the fantasy of it. But it wouldn’t work. “I’m not leaving, and I’m not giving up my life. It’s mine. And besides, if that happened you’d have longer to fly to get back to work, and I’d spend longer alone. That’s not going to work for me.”

  “Fine. Then we’ll figure something else out. I just want to keep you safe.”

  He wasn’t perfect, but he was hers. If he forgot that again, well, she’d have to put the Taser he gave her to another use.

  3.

  Daniel hunched down in the front seat of the sedan. Four cars in less than two hours. He was pretty sure he’d covered his tracks, but he couldn’t shake the sense that he was being watched.

  Damn feds.

  He was getting too old for this.

  No, he couldn’t be old. Gods didn’t get old. Right?

  He gripped the steering wheel, but his hand slid off the smooth leather. A smear of blood stained the high-end material.

  Shit. Was he bleeding again?

  He should have never used the officer’s gun. It was different than his six shooter. He’d missed because he’d gotten cock
y, and now that son of a bitch was still alive.

  His plan was screwed to hell. First he botched killing the fed attached to Bliss, then he took too long to get back to the safe house and snatch Bliss from under the cops’ noses. The only thing left was to pick up his wife, but even that wasn’t enough for him any longer.

  He needed to get revenge.

  Found them.

  Travis glanced at the message and instinctively squeezed Bliss’ hand.

  “What?” she mumbled.

  “Come on.” He pushed off the desk and strode toward the conference room. Since he wasn’t technically on this case, he’d stayed out of the way. If Daniel were in the wilderness or hiding out in a hot zone, Travis knew what to do. Getting inside the head of a deranged serial killer and figuring out what fucked up kind of reasoning made the man tick was a place Travis didn’t want to go.

  Ryan glanced up from his phone as they entered. Travis pushed Bliss behind him in a vain attempt to shield her from the jar babies.

  “Lali and Gavin found them,” Ryan announced.

  “Them, who?” Bliss glanced from Ryan to Travis.

  “Your sister.”

  “Wendy? Are they okay?”

  “They’re fine. Still in CIA custody.” Ryan pocketed his phone. “We can’t make them do anything.”

  “No,” Travis agreed.

  “I bet she could.” Connor thumbed at Bliss.

  She squeezed Travis’ hand, and he released the tight grip he had on her, swiping his thumb over her knuckles as an apology.

  Five minutes. That’s all Travis wanted with the guy. Somewhere he could punch his lights out.

  “Let me talk to her,” Bliss said.

  Ryan held up his hand. “How sure are we that Daniel knows where Wendy is?”

  “He’s too detail-oriented. Wendy is his target. Bliss and Travis are bystanders in this. It’s the women he focuses on. Look.” Connor turned and gestured at one of the boards. Photographs of several dead blonde women lined the top of it, with coordinating information below. “The women were first. It’s always been about them. He had his accident, got well, and then the first woman went missing. The best we can tell, the transient murders were a year later, after his accident. The women represent who he really is, the men are his way of expressing his rage. It’s in how he disposes of the bodies. The women are left. He wants them found because they’re special. The men? They’re trash. He tosses them out. He’s going to zero in on Wendy, and there isn’t an army out there that will stop him.”