Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ackerman drove. Diana sipped the coffee he’d grabbed for her when he stopped at a gas station to pee after they’d been on the road a while.
She was tired because it’d already been a few hours of riding around to different appointments to interview suspects or meet with law enforcement.
Not to mention she’d stayed up too late with Alex.
Impossible not to when being with him felt so damn good.
Even after the epic sex they’d had—the kitchen, the bathtub, his bed—the instant he’d kissed her this morning, she’d ached for him. She could have easily dragged him back inside and done the whole thing again, but Ackerman had been waiting.
And then there was the part where Alex had called her his woman. Wasn’t the first time, but every time he said it, the words burrowed just a little bit deeper into her heart.
“Late night?” Ackerman asked after she yawned again.
“A little. You?”
“Believe it or not, no. Took Reba to Miss Mary’s for dinner. Colleen joined us. Uninvited, I might add.”
“Oh dear. I wouldn’t take it personally though. She’s just afraid of losing her best friend and business partner.”
“It’s not that serious. I like Reba. She’s sweet. But I don’t see us marching down an aisle. Haven’t even gotten past first base yet.”
Diana had a sudden picture in her head that she really didn’t want. “No, no. We are not discussing anyone’s sex life here. Boundaries, Ackerman. Boundaries.”
He laughed. “Gotcha, kiddo. Speaking of sex lives—without talking about any of that stuff—Joel bother you anymore?”
“No. Thank God.”
After that crazy display in the parking lot, he hadn’t approached her again.
She’d been waiting for somebody to ask her if it was true she was related to the deputy CIA director—or to a freaking princess—but nobody had.
If Joel was planning to blast her family name to everyone at work, he hadn’t done it yet.
She didn’t know why since he’d been so vicious about it.
Alex had told her to be prepared for him to do something to wound her for rejecting him. But short of outing her family connection, what could he do? Tell people she’d refused to take him back?
“I talked to him.”
Diana’s head whipped around. “You did what?”
Ackerman shrugged. “Talked to him. Not a threat or anything. He came up to me. Wanted to tell me something.”
Oh shit.
“And? Did he?”
“Said something interesting about you.”
Her heart thumped. “Okay. And? Do you think I’m not qualified anymore? Don’t want to be my partner? Think I’m just a nepo baby pretending to work for a living?”
“I think you’re plenty qualified, Diana. I could tell when you showed up that you had a fire in your belly. I’ve never been worried about your ability to do the job.”
Her eyes stung. “Okay, well, thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I could wish you’d told me, but I understand why you didn’t. Kinda disappointed you told that douchebag, though.”
She sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. Don’t tell me you’ve never made a bad decision.”
“I’ve made plenty of them. Probably gonna make plenty more before I’m through.
” His hands flexed on the steering wheel.
“Shit happens in our lives, you know? And we don’t always get it right.
I was too distant with Amy, too often gone.
I thought I was fighting for the right things.
But maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I’d been wrong all along. ”
Diana’s belly clenched. She didn’t know what to say to that.
Ackerman was always the friendly one in this partnership.
The happy one. Even after his wife left, he’d sailed into being single and embraced it wholeheartedly.
Not immediately, but faster than she would have thought possible when a ten-year marriage ended.
They didn’t have kids, so the break was complete.
Amy had moved to Atlanta to live with her sister, and she wasn’t coming back.
Diana wasn’t stupid enough to think Ackerman wasn’t affected by the divorce, but he was the kind of person who tended to get on with it. It wasn’t even his first divorce. Amy was number three, in fact. But Ackerman was practical, and he didn’t dwell. She’d always admired that about him.
“What is life except making decisions and then questioning if it was the right one or not?”
“True. Soooo, about this decision to date the guy in charge of One Shot Tactical. Still think it’s a good one?”
She frowned. “They’re all partners in the business. What makes you think Alex is in charge?”
He shot her a look. “Seriously? He’s the one who acts like he calls the shots. No matter what any of them say, you know as well as I do these former military types still follow structure. According to their service records, he’s the ranking guy.”
The false service records. What would Ackerman think if he knew what Alex was really capable of? “I know. But we don’t talk about his military days, or the range.”
They were getting into delicate territory with this conversation.
When Callie Crowell had been a target of Dima Smirnov and Viktor, Diana had worked alone with Alex and his team.
She’d used her knowledge of their operation to gain access, and she’d met with them inside their SCIF without Ackerman involved.
He’d known she was working on something, but he hadn’t known what.
She had not been authorized to tell him.
“How well do you really know this guy, Diana? He’s charismatic, I’ll give you that. And he’s clearly turned your head. But who is he really? Why is he here?”
A shiver skipped down her spine. “I guess I know him a little better than you know Reba. We’re just dating. Having fun. Like you said, nobody’s making a trip down the aisle. It’s fun, and he’s a lot more entertaining than Joel ever was.”
“By entertaining you mean…?”
“Be quiet,” she said, blushing as he laughed.
“Okay, fine. I hear you. Alex Bishop is a good time. Joel was a steppingstone on the way to a good time.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but yes, Alex is a marvelous time.”
Ackerman shook his head. “Just be careful, okay? Feel like that guy has more going on than meets the eye. Not sure all of it’s good.”
She turned her torso toward him. “Are you kidding me? Just a couple of weeks ago, you told me ‘good for you’ and ‘you go, girl’. What happened? Did he glare at you or something? Is Reba swooning over him when she should be swooning over you?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I had those thoughts then, but I didn’t mention it. Thought it wasn’t my business. Still isn’t, but you’re my partner so I couldn’t keep it to myself.”
Diana sat back in the seat and sipped her coffee. “Geez, Ackerman. Way to give me whiplash. But I hear you. I’ll be careful.”
Though she feared it was already too late for that. Her heart was involved, whether she wanted it or not. All she could do was hang on for the ride.
The scenery in eastern Alabama was beautiful.
The trees were turning, the mountains stood lush against the landscape—not mountains like the Rockies or the Alps, but smaller ones, foothills of the Great Smokies.
There were green fields, and blue, blue sky that seemed to go on forever.
She didn’t get out this way often, but she loved it.
The warm afternoon sunlight made her sleepy. Ackerman turned on the radio and country music filled the car.
“Damn,” she said, yawning. “I need a nap.”
“So take one. I got this. I’ll wake you when we get to the next stop.”
“I’m going to try to stay awake, but if I fall asleep, then I’ll owe you one.”
He laughed. “You can try, but I don’t think it’s gonna happen. All those late nights with your new lover boy. Surprised you made it this far.”
“I’ll remind you that you said that when you start staying out late with Reba.”
“Sure, sure. You can do that.”
Despite her best efforts, she fell asleep. There were dreams. Of Alex, of his friends, of her parents and her brothers. Joel was there, too, chasing her down a hallway. Colleen was there, telling her the spirits were restless.
And then there was Viktor. Not his face, but his voice. It was near, in the darkness, the Russian vowels dropping heavy and thick. Her Russian wasn’t good because she’d dropped out of that course of study after what he did to her.
She’d taken Italian instead. She should have studied Arabic or Greek, but she’d already decided not to pursue international affairs. She could order food, buy clothing, and enjoy a vacation in Italy. She could not work in the Russian embassy, nor did she want to.
Not anymore.
The dreams kept coming, and she felt as if she were fighting her way through a veil of thin black silk. It never lifted, but she could hear things. Voices. And she felt hands on her, lifting her, carrying her. It must be the movement of the car, but it felt so real.
When she finally woke, when her eyes snapped open, panic flooded her system.
Her heart galloped, sweat beaded on her skin, and her chest felt so tight she didn’t think she’d be able to draw breath.
It was dark, and she lay on a bed. She tried to sit up, racking her brain for how she’d gotten here. What she didn’t remember.
Was she sick? Had Alex come to get her and taken her home?
But no, when she tried to move, her wrist was caught against something.
She pulled, but nothing happened. It took her a moment to figure out that her wrists were bound, chained to something solid—quite probably the headboard—and she was in utter darkness.
She blinked and blinked again, hoping the darkness would clear. Had they done something to her eyes?
Logic told her no, they hadn’t. Not anything permanent anyway. Her eyes didn’t hurt. There was no wound.
“Ackerman,” she wheezed.
They’d been together, driving to Scottsboro and a meth investigation. Had it gone wrong? Had someone taken them prisoner? Where was Ackerman? Had they hurt him?
“Ackerman,” she said again, her voice only marginally stronger. “You… here?”