Chapter 21
JASON
It killed me to say it. It had nearly killed me when I’d made the decision back in the motel. Shit, there was nowhere else I wanted to be but with her, but I kept my feet rooted to the ground.
As long as Frey was loose, she’d never be safe.
So the first thing I’d do after the helicopter carried her away was fucking find him, and I couldn’t do that if I wasn’t a marshal.
That was, of course, assuming she didn’t kill me first.
“What?” Her haunting eyes filled with rage. “Get in the helicopter, Jason. Stay with me.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon.”
I turned and walked away from her feeling like something had broken inside me. Hopefully, when this was all over, she’d understand and forgive me.
Bill stood on the track by the fifty-yard line and watched my approach with a puzzled look on his face. As I got close, he yelled it over the spinning rotors. “What the hell are you doing?”
Was he fucking with me? “You told me not to get—”
“The log was blank. There’s nothing. I mean, not a goddamn thing.”
How was that even possible? The Marshals Service loved its paperwork. There would be requests and approvals, endless emails and phone calls. A full paper trail. It couldn’t disappear without a higher-up’s security clearance.
“Well, that’s a big fucking problem.” I clenched my teeth.
“No one knows where she is right now except for you, me, and that pilot. After you land, I don’t want anyone to know at all. You understand?” He leaned in, giving me the most serious look I’d ever seen from him. “I know this is a big ask, but I don’t trust anyone else right now. Can you do it?”
He wanted us to go off the books, underground. “Yes. How much time do you need?”
“Two, maybe three days.” He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. “Make it last.”
In case it took him longer than three days to expose a senior level official.
“There’s something else that may or may not be important.” His tone was grave. “We haven’t been able to locate the sister.”
Alarm glanced through me. “How worried are you about that?”
“Let’s say I’m mildly concerned. Do what you want with that info.”
I nodded. Laurel had said she wasn’t close with any of her family, but there was no doubt she’d be concerned to hear her sister had gone missing.
“Are you waiting for a kiss goodbye, Dunn? Get going.”
“Good luck.”
“Yeah, you too. And, for the love of God, don’t fuck her.”
As I hurried toward the helicopter, her angry face turned to me, and it looked very much like I already had.
The first thing I did after I climbed aboard was discuss the flight plan with the pilot while she sat quietly, seething. If looks could kill, I would certainly be dead.
When the plans were set, I tried to help her put on her headset, but she slapped my hands away.
I didn’t bother to explain myself now. I could tell she was upset, and rightfully so, and there was a chance she wouldn’t hear me clearly through her headphones anyway.
Plus, I didn’t want the pilot listening in on my apology.
I hoped she could forgive me. If not, I’d have to figure out a way for us to move past it, end of story. Her life was in danger, and that trumped everything else.
Once we landed, there was a car waiting at the regional airport, keys in the ignition and not a soul around.
It took me ten minutes to inspect it for tracking devices.
Once I deemed it safe, she got into the passenger seat and stared at the dash while I checked the mirrors and adjusted the driver’s seat.
When I was ready, I set my hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the car. “You wouldn’t get on the chopper if I—”
“You’d said you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I didn’t want to.” Could she hear how true my statement was?
It didn’t seem to matter. Her expression hardened. “Why, after every word you’ve taken back, should I believe anything you say now?”
All my life, I struggled with my feelings, and the knee-jerk response fired out of me before I thought better of it. “Believe whatever you want, but that’s a fact.”
It was unlikely I’d have been able to stay on that track anyway. Letting her out of my sight meant letting go of control, and I needed to be in charge. It had been a terrible idea anyway because how could I trust her life with anyone else?
I took a breath and lowered the temperature of my voice. “I’m sorry you got upset.”
“That’s not an apology, but I’ll be fine. Can we go?” It was like sitting in the unmoving car was making her claustrophobic. I nodded, started the engine, and put the car in gear.
The first stop was the nearest drugstore for restrooms, food, and painkillers for my back. I also bought a cheap, prepaid phone for the call I’d make in three days to Bill.
Or sooner, if something went wrong.
She said nothing as I made the purchase, lingering at my side like a reluctant shadow.
Once we were back in the car and on the road heading north, her quiet voice broke through the tense silence. “Where are we going?”
“My brother owns a place. We’ll lay low there.”
“How far is it?”
“Four or five hours, depending on traffic. We’ll need to take back roads.”
She turned to stare out the passenger window, and even though I couldn’t see her expression, I sensed the thought grumbling through her head.
Great.
I didn’t blame her for it, either. Being trapped in this car with an asshole like me might be torture.
I found it torturous, too—but only because I wanted her so badly and there was no relief in sight.
My mind should have been focused elsewhere, yet all I could think about was how I was going to undo what I’d done.
How to get us back to where we’d been.
We rode in silence for a long time, and I spent all of it running through ideas in my head, but the right words escaped me. How was I going to un-fuck this?
Without warning, she sighed, and it was so loud and frustrated, I tapped the brakes.
“What?” I went on alert and glanced at the other lane but didn’t see anything to explain her reaction. “What’s wrong?”
Out of my peripheral, I saw her fold her arms over her chest and slump in her seat. “Nothing.”
My tone was pointed. “Laurel.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock.”
I blinked. “What does that mean?”
“It means I lasted less than an hour.” She sounded irritated. “I’m supposed to be mad at you, but I’m weak.”
My pulse jumped at her meaning. “Weak is not a word I’d used to describe you.”
“I’ve been sitting here this whole time, trying to convince myself to stay mad, but the truth is,” she took a breath, “I don’t care that much about why you got on the helicopter. Only that you did.”
The tightness in my chest began to ease. “I was trying to do what I thought was the safest thing for you. The fastest way for us to . . .”
I wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, but I didn’t need to.
“I know,” she said.
I gripped the steering wheel to keep my hands from drifting elsewhere, which was a foreign feeling. I wasn’t normally big on touching or holding hands, but with her? Everything was different.
She shifted in her seat, angling her shoulders toward me. “You made me a promise, but I was too angry at the time to really hear it. You said you’d find me when it was over.”
“Yes.”
“But you’ve said things to me before that weren’t true.”
“I know I have, and I’m sorry. But that? It was the fucking truth.”
She considered that for a long moment. “Why?”
“Because whatever this is between us?” The honesty spilled from me. “Shit, I’ve never felt anything like it, and I don’t want to lose that. Even when it . . .” I was admitting it to myself as much as to her. “It, I don’t know, scares me.”
“Yeah. It scares me, too.” Her fingers played with the edge of her seatbelt.
Like she needed to occupy them to avoid reaching for me.
“I don’t know what I’d do if the roles were reversed and I’d been asked to choose my career over you.
That principal spot is all I’ve ever wanted.
” She paused for a beat, and then her tone filled with resignation.
“But we don’t know how much time we have, and I don’t want to waste it being mad at you.
That’s why I’ve spent the last hour rationalizing a way to kiss you again. ”
Well, fuck me.
I placed my hand on top of hers, and air left her in a slow, appreciative sweep. Like she’d been as desperate for my touch as I was for hers.
This time, the silence that fell over us wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of warmth and connection. But with the tension gone and the gentle rock of the car as we drove along, her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion.
“You should get some sleep,” I said.
“What about you?”
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie. I was tired as shit, but I could make it to the cabin first.
Well, probably.
She shook her head. “I stay awake as long as you are. It’d be rude for me to sleep when you can’t.”
“Rude? After everything you’ve been through, you’re worried about manners?”
She ignored my question. “Why was Bill suddenly okay with you getting on the helicopter with me?”
I gave her the details he’d shared with me, explaining how serious the situation was. What my boss had done, letting me disappear with a witness, was so against the rules it only reinforced my belief there’d been no other way.
“What he probably did,” I said, “was tell everyone you’ve refused protective services and that I’ve been put on leave. Some will buy the story, and some won’t, but it might help expose the mole.”
I didn’t tell her what Bill had said about her sister. There wasn’t enough information, and nothing could be done right now, so I’d save that conversation for later.
At least until she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep and was better equipped to handle it.
Fuck me. Thinking about sleep was a mistake.
I only made it another twenty minutes before I eased the car behind a run-down commercial building that looked like it had been for sale for the last decade. I’d kept us on rural roads, and this place was in the middle of nowhere, so it wasn’t surprising the owners hadn’t been able to find a buyer.
I drove around to the back of the building and parked in its shadow.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“I’ve got to get some sleep, an hour or so. You should, too.”
I reclined my seat as far as it would go, but Laurel stayed upright. She glanced out the windows like she felt exposed.
“We’ll be safe here,” I said.
She finally followed my lead, pulled the lever on her seat, and reclined. She seemed tense as she stared up at the ceiling liner which was starting to sag in spots.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned to lie on her side and look at me. “My mind won’t let me sleep. Do you want me to drive?”
We were both running on fumes. “You don’t know where to go, and you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like an order, but it came out that way. “I want you to sleep.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’m telling you, that’s not going to happen.”
I softened, understanding. “What do you need?”
“For my brain to shut up,” she said. “I don’t know, tell me it isn’t my fault again.”
Her request hit me hard, and my voice turned serious. “It’s not. Laurel, none of this is your fault.”
She made a face, signaling it was clear she didn’t believe me.
I grabbed the steering wheel, hauled myself upright in the seat, and even though it was murder on my back, I twisted to lean over her. Until my face was only inches away from her beautiful one. She stared up at me with wide eyes that were the same blue as Lake Michigan on a summer day.
“Not your fault,” I repeated. “But this,” I dipped my head so my lips could graze hers, “what I’m doing now? This is your fault.”