Chapter 11
Cam sucked on the lip of her glass at the highway diner she’d insisted they stop at for food. After remembering he had a sister, Brooks had been almost too shaken to continue, let alone drive. She watched as he scarfed down his second cheeseburger then shoveled a handful of fries in his mouth. Amusement twisted her lips. “You don’t have to inhale it. We have time.”
Brooks froze, his eyes wide, reminding her of a deer in headlights. He wiped his hands on a napkin and chewed again, more slowly. “Sorry,” he said, taking a sip of water and washing everything down. “I can’t remember the last time I could eat whatever I wanted.”
She opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Jeez. Of all the insensitive things for her to say. “I wasn’t thinking,” she whispered. “Want the rest of my burger?” she asked, offering it to him. “I’m stuffed.”
He eyed it as if he’d resist then plucked it from her fingers. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
While he polished off her meal, she brought her attention to her phone. Figuring out he had a sister was a huge lead. He hadn’t told her Alexis’s last name. Did that mean he didn’t remember? Would asking him put up a mental block? She tapped his sister’s first name into the search bar. “Did your sister marry? I’m trying to figure out what last name to search for her.”
He snorted and swiped three fries into a dollop of ketchup. “Nah. I don’t think she married anyone. She was too much of a hard-ass. Her last name is Ivanov, too.” He froze and lifted his eyes to hers. “Jesus. I can’t believe how much I’m starting to remember about her.” He straightened in his seat and snapped his shoulders back as if he’d been given a double shot of confidence.
Warmth spread through her chest and into the deep corners of her heart. Something as simple as his name had been stolen from him, hidden under a wall of abuse and torment. She stretched her arm across the table and covered his wrist with her palm. “You’re free now. And everything’s coming back to you.”
His blue eyes, so large and bright they were almost the same shade of cyan water, danced. “With your help.”
She scoffed. “I’ve done nothing yet.”
He pulled her hand into both of his, enveloping it in a massive cocoon. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be there. Don’t diminish that with modesty.” His palms were like a furnace. A tingling sensation shot through her fingers, up her arm, and then pooled between her thighs. He never broke his gaze. He seemed to be studying every feature on her face as if committing it to memory. God, she’d never been looked at with such intensity. Not like he wanted to own her, but like he wanted to know her. But there was desire burning beneath the curious embers, a fire that promised a lot of flame and delicious attention.
“Can I get you anything else?”
The perky waitress’s voice snapped Cam out of her reverie. She yanked her hand away from Brooks. “Uh, yeah. I mean, no. Just the bill, thanks.”
Brooks’s mouth twitched. “Any luck finding her?” he asked, nodding at her phone.
Cam turned her attention to her device and typed “Ivanov” after “Alexis.” Multiple articles popped up. Anticipation whirred in her chest as she scrolled through each one. “She appears to be a journalist?” She lifted her eyes to him to see if that tidbit of information sparked any recollection.
He nodded. “Yeah. Investigative journalist. Holy shit.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.
She perked. “What?”
Their waitress returned. Her dark brown eyes swung to Brooks with interest—probably because his face was changing color by the second. It landed on gray. “Sir, was the food okay?”
Brooks nodded. “Fine.”
Cam pulled out some cash, placed it on the receipt, and stood. Brooks got to his feet and headed for the door, one step ahead of her. He shoved on the glass, and she caught his forearm with both wrists before he could stalk off into the street and get hit by a car. “Brooks, what’s wrong?”
He turned to her, his mouth a quivering line and his shoulders bunched as if he were ready to fight in an octagon. She raised her eyebrows.
“Memories keep hitting me like bullets for fuck’s sake. I think I was a journalist, too.”
She brought her hand to his cheek, forcing him to swing his gaze to hers. Pain stabbed through his irises—a blizzard of worry and anger. His scruffy beard tickled her palm. Giving in to the need to stroke him, she ran her thumb over the gentle dip of his cheekbone.
As if the action had wiped away his angst, his shoulders relaxed and he caught her hand. “I just get overwhelmed when memories come back. It’s almost like seeing a vision of someone else, but I know it’s me, and as soon as I try to grab the memory it fades.”
“Don’t try so hard. Let it come back to you slowly,” she said softly. “Maybe your journalistic research was one of the reasons why you were taken. You got too close to some information.”
The wind kicked up and tossed her hair around her face. She swiped it away, and the scent of exhaust from an idling car struck her, reminding her that they needed to keep moving. Brooks lifted his fingers and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement was gentle yet intimate. His lips, so soft and pale pink, parted, and her pulse ricocheted through her veins.
He cupped the back of her neck. A horn blasted from the street on the other side of the parking lot and he stiffened. “We should go.”
Hope deflated in her chest. Goodness. Had she expected him to kiss her? She was losing it. Probably lack of sleep. And adrenaline. In no way, shape, or form should her panties be wet over Brooks. Granted, he was hot as hell, and fire licked her body every time he touched her, but the fact that he was on a murder hunt meant he wasn’t ideal boyfriend material.
“Mind if I drive?” He held out his hand.
She dug her keys from her pocket and led the way to her car. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“I feel like I need to keep my brain active.” He accepted the keys from her fingers and got in the front. “We’re a long way from Seattle. We should stop for the night at some point.”
She got in the passenger’s seat, buckled up, and pulled out her phone. Brooks reversed out of the parking lot while she mapped out their route. “We’re ten hours from Seattle, but it’s already almost four,” she said, nodding at the dash. “We can drive for a few hours and then stop at a motel if you want.”
“Sounds good. In the meantime, do you think you can track down Alexis’s number?”
“I was thinking the same thing.” She leafed through the search results she’d left on her browser and found the name of the newspaper Alexis worked for. “I’ve got her work number. Do you want me to call?”
He gave one curt nod, his expression somber.
In her head, Cam ran through what to say as the line rang in her ear. Hi, I’ve found your missing brother. He’s been held against his will in a lab. Was a little too blunt. Better to wing it.
“Shoreline News. How may I direct your call?”
“Hello, may I speak with Alexis Ivanov, please?”
“I think she left for the day. I’ll connect you to her voicemail.”
Shit. The line clicked over.
Hi, you’ve reached Alexis Ivanov. Please leave me a detailed message after the tone and I’ll get back to you at my earliest convenience.
“Hi. My name is Camryn Bay—Royce.” Shoot, she’d never get her name straight. “I’m calling on behalf of your brother, Brooks Ivanov. Please call me back when you have a minute.” She rattled off her number and disconnected. Then turned her attention to Brooks. “She’s out for the day. I’ll try to find her on social media.” She logged on to one of the sites she hadn’t looked at in days. Ignoring the string of notifications that popped up, she went to the search bar and typed in Alexis’s name. Nothing came up. She went to another social media account and got the same result. “She must have an unsearchable account. Understandable, if she doesn’t want the public to find her easily. Hopefully she calls us back tomorrow.”
He nodded again and shifted, looking somewhat relieved. He laid one elbow on the console and looped his other hand around the steering wheel. “It’s weird—driving.” His voice was gruff, heavy. “One of those things everyone takes for granted, but it’s freeing, you know? I can go anywhere, just the road stretched out in front of me. Outside of the cities it’s so quiet. I never liked it when it was quiet at the lab. I hated the sound of my own thoughts, day in and day out. But this is different.”
The steel hand of pity grabbed her chest. Tears collected at the corners of her eyes, and she dashed them away. He’d been so long without human connection. So long without knowing if he’d live or die, or what they’d do to him next. Dear lord, how had he survived?
She laced her fingers with his, all her words of comfort dissolving on her tongue. “I know you have to get your revenge for what they did to you, but you’re free now, Brooks.” It was all she could muster.
He squeezed her hand. As she gazed at the stretch of road in front of them, her mind went back to her mom. It’d been more than twenty-four hours since she spoke to her. If she didn’t call her soon, her mom would be in a fit of worry.
Tonight. For now, she’d anchor her attention to Brooks.
He needed it.
***
The monotonous soundof blabbering radio hosts somehow didn’t annoy Brooks. Any other time, he’d have shut off the meaningless chitchat, but now it comforted him—just normal people, talking about everyday life. Even the commercial jingles didn’t irk him enough to make him change the station. Night had fallen. They’d crossed the Nevada-Oregon border hours ago, but the scenery hadn’t changed: rolling hills, dusty earth, and the glow of yellow eyes at the side of the road that made him glad as fuck they hadn’t gotten a flat tire.
Cam shifted next to him, jolting him back to the now. Back to the constant hum beneath his skin reminding him that she was near. She tucked her bare feet under her hip, curling into the door and snuggling her pert little ass against the console, inches from his elbow. She let out a long, shuddering sigh, and he swung his gaze to her face, which was nestled against the window. His airways tightened. She hadn’t asked for this. By doing the right thing and coming to his aid, she’d endangered herself. But things that didn’t add up kept circling through his mind: She’d had a bag ready—there was no way she could have packed and changed as quickly as she had back at her house. She also had a gun and several grand in cash.
That was another thing that bugged him. She’d paid for the motel, their food, hell, even the clothes on his back, and he didn’t have a dime. He wasn’t a freeloader. He’d keep track of every penny and pay her back.
She groaned and stretched her arm high before sitting. “Want me to drive?” She rubbed her eyes, looking like a reluctant kid who’d been woken up for school.
“Why don’t we stop for the night? There’s a town straight ahead called Bend. We can continue in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me. Are you hungry?”
His stomach rumbled, but the last thing he wanted to do was leech more food off her. “I’m all right.”
She snorted as they entered the town. The lights of twenty-four-hour stores and takeout joints lined the street. “I heard your stomach growling. Let’s find a place to sleep and we can grab food nearby.”
A few minutes later, a motel came into view. After pulling in, Brooks unbuckled his seatbelt. “They might want a credit card to hold the room, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
As Cam reached into the back seat, her full, luscious cleavage spilled out the V-neck of her shirt. His fingers tingled with the desire to move the material and see the hard nubs that poked against the fabric. His cock throbbed with need. He adjusted his jeans as she dropped back into her seat.
“I gave a cash deposit at the last place.” She thrust a handful of bills at him. “They were fine with that.”
He grabbed the money but didn’t pull it from her fingers. Her eyes lifted to his, her lashes so thick that the faint light from the motel’s sign made them cast shadows on her cheeks. Her pouty lips pushed forward in confusion, but she didn’t remove her hand from his.
“I’ll pay you back for this... for everything.”
She dipped her chin, and a dimple formed in the corner of her cheek. “Don’t be silly. Now hurry up, I’m hungry.”
He took the money and exited the car. The cool air reminded him they’d left Nevada. Being in a coastal state meant lower temperatures. He could feel blood filling the areas of his body that had been cramped and restricted in the car. Vehicles whooshed down the road as he stalked toward the flashing red sign that read OPEN.
He shouldered open the door and a bell dinged over his head. An older man jumped up from his chair behind the desk. The dim lights bounced off his white hair and yellowing, once-white shirt. A TV sat on the desk, and as Brooks approached, he caught an image of the eleven o’clock news.
“Evening. Can I get you a room?” The lopsided name tag adorning his chest pocket read Fred.
“Please. One with two beds if you have it available, Fred.” The request pained him. He’d slept so well in Cam’s hold. Being close to her, inhaling her warm scent, was something he desperately needed to calm his spiking nerves. But she needed to be comfortable and know he wasn’t some kind of creep.
“All’s I’ve got is one king.”
A little thrill of pleasure ran through him. “That’s fine. Can I secure the room with cash?” He pulled out some bills and placed them on the counter.
Fred fingered the money. “This’ll cover it.” He handed over the paperwork. “Sign here and fill out the information. I’ll get your keys ready.”
Brooks accepted the pen and started writing. The sound of the TV carried to his ears:
The police are looking for a woman by the name of Camryn Bayfield.
Brooks snapped his head up. Cam’s wide green eyes and blonde hair filled the screen.
Air rushed out of his nostrils. Jesus effing Christ.
The twenty-nine-year-old woman is identified as Camryn Bayfield but has been using the last name Royse. It’s believed that the nurse has kidnapped a patient from a rehab facility. We have no information on the missing man at this time, but both are considered armed and dangerous. Authorities are asking the public to...
Fred waddled back to the counter, a key card in hand. He glanced over the sheet, but Brooks couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen. If the clerk saw Cam, they were fucked. He shifted his weight, positioning himself in front of Fred’s view of the window.
Fred laid the paper back on the counter, tapping one line. “You forgot the name of the person staying with you. I assume you’re not alone since you wanted two beds?”
“Uh.” Brooks coughed. He snatched the pen from the desk and scrawled Jenny Anders, matching the last name he’d used, on the blank spot. “Sorry ’bout that. Been a long drive.”
“Not to worry. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know.”
Brooks accepted the key card from the counter. “Thanks.” He exited the office and dropped into the driver’s seat.
Cam lifted her head from the seat. “Anything available?”
He backed up and peeled away from the office window. A glance inside showed Fred dropping back into the chair in front of his desk. They’d dodged a bullet, but from here on out a huge red bull’s-eye was on their backs. “Yeah. One king bed. Oh, and you’re on the eleven o’clock news.”
She bolted forward, panic driving a gasp to the tip of her tongue. The piercing sound of Cam’s cell phone split the air, cutting her off. She reached for her phone, and her features pinched together. “Oh crap,” she wheezed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he parked in front of their room.
“It’s my mom.” The weight she’d attached to the words hit him with the force of a lightning bolt. More questions buzzed in his mind.
Cam had a story, and he’d find out what it was.