Chapter 20
Dallas wound and unwound his fist on the top of the steering wheel. Fierce, blinding rage made his pulse deafening against his eardrums.
They were getting closer and closer to death each time.
Had he not woken when he had, Gemma would be dead.
That stark realization made the acrid taste of fear touch his tongue. Another second or two and they wouldn’t be sitting here right now—she wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Gemma had been right to go with her gut and return to the CIA. He’d almost gotten her killed for fuck’s sake. He’d been too distracted while driving. And not just by their conversation, but also by his lovesick woes.
Jesus fuck.
If he’d been more alert, like he normally was, he’d have seen the truck coming. Known it was going to make impact. Instead, he’d been fucking sidelined.
He rubbed his palm over his cheek. The pain in his head was getting stronger. Enough that if he had a pain reliever handy, he’d pop it. He needed to keep his wits. This shit was far from over.
“Do you think it was Silas?” Gemma asked, lowering her phone—probably texting Charlene.
He shook his head once. The movement made the wound pulse. “Doubt it. Why would he bother? He’s meeting me in a couple hours. If he wanted me dead, he’d do it then.”
“But he wants me dead.”
Dallas shrugged. “Since Silas wasn’t on the scene, I don’t think that’s the case. More than likely it was someone who knows where we stayed and took the time to get a good look at us before following us out here,” he said, gesturing to the deserted road surrounded by jungle. “To kill us.”
She sighed. “I guess that makes sense.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her lift her hands to her face. A loose laugh shook itself free from her lips. “Can you believe this? I mean, look at what we’ve been through the last few days and people are still trying to kill us.”
“They won’t stop. Not with Silas alive.”
Silence struck for two beats.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he lied. “I’m just rambling.” He ran his tongue over his dry lips. He couldn’t keep Gemma from the CIA. Not when they could actually get her out of the country in one piece. He also couldn’t hope Silas would forget about her. That wasn’t going to happen.
No. The only way to end this was to end Silas.
“Dallas Holmes. Don’t you dare tell me you’re thinking about doing something stupid.” Gemma’s delicate hand grasped his knee, and her fingernails pierced his flesh. “Tell me.”
He pushed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “The only stupid thing would be to let Silas live.”
“Oh my god.” She threw herself back into her seat with as much gusto as a drama teacher. “You’ve lost your mind. Is it your head?” She leaned forward and pressed her fingers on a spot near his gash. “It’s your head. Your concussion is making you confused. We need to get you checked out.”
He tilted his face out of reach. “My head’s fine. I’ve had more concussions than the number of times we’ve slept together, all right?” The words dropped with force.
He pulled his trembling hand away from the steering wheel and placed it on her thigh. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I just—fuck I’m angry.”
She didn’t shake off his hand, but she didn’t reach for him either. “I don’t care that you’re angry. You don’t need to be an asshole.”
Pain ripped apart his chest. He was screwing everything up. He needed a minute. A break. Just a few seconds to clear his mind and look into Gemma’s blue eyes before he sent her off to never see her again.
But he didn’t have that luxury.
He pulled his gaze away from the road again for a second. Her teary blue eyes made the ripping sensation in his chest downright unbearable. “Please forgive me.”
She blinked and her tears fell.
He mumbled a curse and pulled to the side of the road. Dangerous. Reckless. Stopping for even a second could get them killed, but he couldn’t live knowing he’d caused her even an ounce of pain. Twisting in his seat, he pulled her head to his shoulder.
His fingers sought the silken strands of her hair, and his nose immediately inhaled her scent, which would be branded on his senses till the day he died. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go. That’s why I’m so angry. Even more mad that I messed this up so badly that I can’t even protect you.”
She lifted her chin and brought her hands to rest on his jaw. “All you’ve done is protect me. From the moment the bombs went off you’ve been on a mission to ensure my safety. I’m alive right now because of you.”
He chuckled. “We’re both hanging on by a thread.”
“And the odds have been stacked against us.” She dipped her gaze then lifted it again. The yellow striations in her blue irises stilled his heart. “Just please be careful. Don’t do anything that won’t bring you back to me.”
He swept his thumb under her eye, catching a tear. “Never.”
She kissed him, her lips soft and moist. Before he could deepen the kiss, she peeled away. “Let’s just get this over with so we can get back to whatever we had before this mess started. Okay?”
He meshed his forehead with hers. “That sounds damn good.”
Who was he kidding? He couldn’t go back to that. Couldn’t act like the last several days hadn’t happened. Like they weren’t forever changed and bound on a soul level. This morning, he’d been ready to say goodbye to her forever. To not put his stupid, misled heart back into her little game. Turned out he had even less control where Gemma was concerned than he’d thought.
When it came to having Gemma, he’d take whatever crumbs she gave.
***
“It’s right uphere,” she said, pointing to the airstrip looming ahead of them on her side. The big freaking plane was explanation enough, but her jittery nerves made her blurt out the obvious.
Dallas slowed and turned into the gravel driveway. Her heart rate picked up, matching the rhythm that pulsed in her head along with a constant chant: Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
If their last brush with death had done one thing, though, it’d given her the push she needed. Dallas had almost died, yet again, because of her.
She needed to fix her own mistakes. For him. So he could continue his life without wearing the bull’s-eye that was seared to the back of her head.
The private plane sat on the runway, a white Cadillac SUV beside it. A woman stood next to the SUV, her stylish blond bob and white silk dress shirt tucked into navy dress pants screamed law enforcement.
“That her?”
“Yeah.”
Dallas slowed to a crawl then pulled a U-turn so the SUV was pointed away from the plane and Charlene.
“What are you—”
“Hold on.” Hitting reverse, he backed up closer to her destination. He shifted into park a good eighty feet away from the SUV. “I don’t want to give them a chance to get photos of me. Or run my face. Though I’m sure they’ve already got me locked down in the system.”
Gemma grimaced. Not much got by Charlene. From the moment Gemma had given her Dallas’s name, she’d put him on the woman’s radar.
Smart, Gemma. Really fricking smart.
“I’m sorry I screwed this up so badly.” She unclipped her seatbelt and turned to face him.
At least when they’d last stopped, he’d let her clean up the blood on his face. The wound near his temple was still angry—blood oozed a bit, but at least it wasn’t rolling down the side of his head. She moved her gaze over his features, taking in the chiseled jaw, perfectly shaped nose, and hazel eyes that bore into her soul. Regret flashed in his hues, and the pit of her stomach dropped several inches.
One day she’d make things right. But today, she had to do what was best for both of them. “Promise you’ll clean that properly?”
He touched the spot and winced, and then his face fell back into its grim expression. “When I get the chance, yeah.”
She reached out and touched his cheek. “And don’t do anything stupid. I’m going to call you once I’m settled, remember?”
His mouth softened into a sad smile, as if that were wishful thinking. “’Course.”
“You can still come with me. You haven’t heard from Cole. Maybe he got called away to work and—”
Dallas shook his head. “I’ve gotta deal with Silas. It’s the only way either of us is getting out of this alive. He’ll find you. Even if you’re owned by the CIA. They can’t hide you.”
She moved her thumb over the scruff near his mouth. “No, but I can stump him. Who knows where I’ll be stationed next?”
Dallas leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “Listen to me, all right? Don’t fucking trust them. I know they’re government, but you’re just a pawn to them. They’re just using you. Do what you need to do to get out of the country, and if you can’t reach me”—he fished through the junk in the dash’s inlay—“call Dare or Cole.”
He turned over a tattered business card that had probably been in the truck for months and jotted down two numbers. “Whatever you do, don’t let them get a hold of this. Either memorize the numbers and destroy this or keep it somewhere they won’t find it.”
She accepted the card and slipped it into her bra. “Okay.”
“I mean it. No matter what happens, my brothers will help you.”
Tears stung her eyes. “You make it sound like you’re going to die.” She flicked away a tear.
Dallas cupped her cheek. “I haven’t died yet, have I?”
A smile tugged at her lips. She lowered her head, shaking it at the same time.
“Okay. Phone me when you get settled and if I don’t answer, call my brothers immediately. Got it?”
She nodded and surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dallas tucked his face into her shoulder and his hands closed around her waist. “Won’t be a year this time.”
She chortled. How had she ever made do with seeing him only once a year? The last few days had felt like months. Now, walking away was painful. She pressed her lips to his jaw then moved to his mouth. His lips took hers and his hand held the back of her neck.
He licked between her teeth, sending a flash of desire through her loins. She gripped his shirt and kissed him back, swiping her tongue over the smooth ridges of his teeth. He tasted hot and faintly like mint. A flavor she’d commit to memory if it killed her.
Slowly, he pulled away then pecked her one more time. “Go. Before I drive us both the fuck out of here.”
The tears hovering at her lashes broke through. She reached in the back for her bag, lifted her hand in a wave, and hopped out.
Rounding the vehicle, she made a beeline for Charlene. The sensitive skin around her eyes burned with more tears, but she kept them on lockdown. Rather than fall to her cheeks, they filled her vision like a blurry screen.
Her boots slapped on the gravel. She sucked in several deep breaths and forced the emotion down. It’s only temporary. By the time she reached Charlene, the sun’s blasted heat had made her skin damp and her mouth dry.
“We’ve been waiting. Where’s your friend?” Charlene looked past her shoulder to the truck.
Gemma hooked her thumbs into the straps of her bag. “It’s just me.”
“I got him what you asked.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. He has other arrangements now.”
Charlene’s sharp brown eyes narrowed, then she shrugged. “Fine.” Her gaze swept over Gemma. “What happened to you?”
She lifted a hand to her hair. She’d only glanced in the mirror when she and Dallas stopped and hadn’t had the chance to tend to the minor cuts and scrapes, not to mention the debris still tangled in her strands. “Car wreck. I’m okay.”
“Good.” Opening the back door of the running SUV, Charlene jerked her head. “Hop in.”
Gemma lifted her fingers and waved at the truck. She watched as it rolled away then picked up speed. Her stomach muscles seized with every extra inch of distance Dallas put between them.
“C’mon,” Charlene snapped. “We don’t have much time.”
Gemma swung her bag in first then scooted to the far side. Charlene climbed in next and shut the door behind her. The SUV’s vents pumped out air conditioning. Gemma sat perched on the edge of the seat.
“You look ready to bolt,” Charlene said, as she pulled out her phone and set it on her lap.
Gemma forced her shoulders to relax. She couldn’t let Charlene believe anything had changed. “Sorry. It’s been a hellish few days.”
“Well, we’ll get you settled in a hotel and you can rest before we need you at work.”
“When do I start?”
Charlene twisted her lips to the side and looked at her phone. “Let me see here... looks like you’re on call after 4:00p.m.”
Gemma’s eyes bugged out. “Wait. Aren’t I going somewhere else? It’s just after 11:00a.m.”
Charlene’s cold, emotionless stare lifted from her phone. “No. We’re staying in Ecuador. While we appreciate your efforts during your last posting, the job’s not done.”
She opened and closed her mouth. No. This couldn’t be happening. “Silas has a hit out on my head. He believes I set off the bombs. He wants me dead.”
The woman’s expression didn’t change. “Right, well. It’d be ideal to put someone else in your place, but this case is moving at rapid speed. We didn’t have time to bring anyone else in.” She shifted in her seat, turning to face Gemma. “Listen. I get this is scary.” Charlene’s voice held anything but empathy. “But you’ve also put a limit on your time with us—another two years.”
“So I’m being punished for wanting to have a regular life? I’ve given you six of my adult years. I want my freedom.”
Charlene flashed a smile, as if what she’d said were amusing. “Honey. You’re free. After this job I’m sending you home for a month. Go enjoy some time off. See your family. You’ve earned it.”
The driver’s side door opened and a man slipped inside. “All set, boss?”
“Yes. Hotel please.”
Gemma sat back in her seat. Her head spun with such force that it collided with hysteria. All this had been for nothing. She’d parted with Dallas for nothing. Now, not only was she still in danger, but so was he.
She had to warn him.