Chapter Twenty-Two
Paul should have just left.
Why hadn’t he kept his distance from her?
He’d known better than to start a relationship with a woman while he was using an alias.
Instead of avoiding her, he’d sought her out.
He’d practically tripped over his own dick to get to her.
He had no excuse for the way he’d handled this.
He shouldn’t have stayed at the cabin. As soon as she’d arrived, he should have listened to his instincts and RUN.
Now he was in a bind, all tangled up in love with her and stupid as hell about it. He shouldn’t have kissed her once, let alone taken her to bed multiple times. Kyle had been right; he’d been distracted. He hadn’t been thinking clearly.
What was done was done, however, and there was no going back.
He hadn’t planned to tell her his real name because it was a security issue.
If she told her brother or father, word of his location could leak to Mendez.
Paul doubted two cops would broadcast his whereabouts when the consequences could bring organized criminals into their jurisdiction, but he couldn’t count on the goodwill of strangers.
The Navas wouldn’t go out of their way to protect him.
He wouldn’t be surprised if they forced him to leave town.
Cursing, he paced the half-finished cabin. Visions of Vanessa arching her back and thrusting her pretty tits in the air, teasing him mercilessly, plagued his mind. Damn her for driving him crazy. Damn her for making him love her.
He’d already packed his bag, so he stormed outside and tossed it in the passenger seat of his pickup.
The camping gear he’d bought for Kyle’s visit got shoved in the cab, along with bottled water and dry goods.
He could survive in the desert for a few weeks.
He could lay low, suffer the elements, and wait for the storm to pass.
Kyle wouldn’t like it, of course. He would scold Paul for revealing his true identity to Vanessa, even though she’d figured it out on her own.
Kyle had planned this hideout with Paul’s standoffish personality in mind.
Neither of them had figured on him making an emotional connection with a woman.
Paul didn’t make connections with anyone. Staying aloof was his default setting.
While he ruminated on his uncharacteristic feelings and their disastrous outcome, he walked toward the shore.
He’d have to abandon his new fishing boat.
He couldn’t bring the trailer or the boat into the backcountry.
Irritated by this dilemma, he picked up a rock and hurled it into the lake.
He repeated this action, though it gave him no satisfaction, until his shoulder ached from overexertion.
Then he returned to the cabin, sat down on the back porch and brooded in the shade.
After wallowing in misery for a good half hour, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and a frisson of unease traveled through him.
He walked around the side of the cabin and watched a sleek, charcoal-colored BMW park in the spot Vanessa had vacated.
The man who emerged from the vehicle wore stylish, slightly rumpled clothes.
His brown hair fluttered in the dry wind. Designer sunglasses covered his eyes.
Paul identified him as Bennett and hated him on sight. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides. Bennett, oblivious to Paul’s presence, climbed the steps and peered inside the front window.
“That’s my cabin,” Paul said, letting his voice carry.
Bennett jumped at the sound. He turned to look at Paul and flashed a cheesy smile. “Sorry to bother you,” he said. “I’m looking for my wife.”
Paul wanted to punch him in the teeth. “Your wife?”
“I was supposed to meet her at this address. I’d call or send her a text, but I don’t have cell phone service.”
“I’m the only one here.”
Bennett glanced around with obvious skepticism. The lenses of his sunglasses didn’t disguise the bruise under one eye. He also had a cut on his lower lip, and bloodstains marred the collar of his shirt. Someone had already worked him over. “You haven’t seen a pretty brunette with a little girl?”
Paul just stared at him.
Bennett tucked his hands in his pockets. “She reserved this cabin.”
“I’m remodeling both cabins. They aren’t available.”
“Do you mind if I take a look inside?”
“I do mind, actually,” Paul said.
Undeterred, Bennett began to inspect the area.
Paul climbed the steps and stood in his way.
Although Paul topped him by a few inches, Bennett was no weakling.
He had the lean physique of an athlete. He probably played golf or tennis at a club.
His size didn’t concern Paul, but his bold manner and battered face did.
He looked like a man with nothing left to lose.
Bennett’s gaze settled on the banister. A black bikini top had been placed there to dry. Vanessa must have forgotten it in her haste. Bennett reached out to test the damp fabric. “My wife has a suit like this.”
Paul didn’t like his silky tone, nor the sight of his hands on her top. “She’s not your wife. Not anymore.”
“Ah,” Bennett said. He smiled again, and fresh blood welled from a cut on his lip. “You do know her.”
“What do you want?”
“Just to chat with the mother of my child.”
“She’s not here.”
“I’ll wait for her.”
“No, you won’t,” Paul said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ll get in your car and get the fuck out of here.”
Bennett’s smile slipped. “I have every right to speak to her.”
“I disagree.”
“Then we’re at a stalemate.”
Paul leaned in closer. “You look like you’ve hit a rough patch. You’re about to hit another one.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m trying to help you stay out of trouble,” Paul said. “You’re scared and desperate, and that’s unfortunate, but coming here was a mistake. Don’t involve her in whatever mess you’re in. Just go.”
Bennett studied him with narrowed eyes. “You must be her latest conquest. Men always did fall at her feet.”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said get the fuck out.”
“I heard you,” Bennett said, and strolled down the steps. “Au revoir.”
Paul wanted to kick his ass just for that pretentious goodbye, but he restrained himself.
The best course of action was to warn Vanessa that her ex was in town.
After coming all this way, Paul doubted the man would give up and go home.
As soon as Bennett drove away, Paul walked inside to get his phone.
His call to Vanessa went straight to voicemail, so he wrote a quick text. It didn’t go through.
“She blocked me,” he said, staring at his screen. Unbelievable.
Paul considered calling the local police department to get in touch with her father or brother.
He had no idea if they were on duty, however, and Bennett hadn’t done anything illegal by attempting to contact her.
He hadn’t issued a threat. Vanessa didn’t have a restraining order against him, as far as Paul knew.
After a moment’s indecision, Paul put his phone away, locked both cabins, and climbed into his truck. She wouldn’t accept his calls? Fine. He’d deliver the message in person.
Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of her father’s house.
Her SUV was parked in the driveway. Tension vibrated through him while he knocked on the door.
She might have informed her family about his secret identity.
He steeled himself for a confrontation with two protective, pissed-off cops.
Jackson opened the door with his usual, relaxed expression. Paul wasn’t fooled by it. “Murphy,” he said in greeting. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to Vanessa.”
“She’s not available.”
Paul squinted at him. “Can you relay a message?”
“Why don’t you call her?”
“She blocked me.”
Jackson stepped outside and pulled the door shut behind him. He spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “When a woman blocks you, it means she doesn’t want to speak to you. If you’re confused about that, I can help straighten you out.”
Paul let out a humorless laugh. Jackson was offering to straighten him out with a tussle in the front yard.
The veiled threat reminded him of the one Paul had issued to Bennett.
Vanessa’s brother might not be an experienced officer, but he understood how to use intimidation tactics. “I just saw Bennett.”
Jackson’s brows rose. “Where?”
“He came to the cabin and asked for Vanessa.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Yeah. I told him to fuck off.”
Jackson scanned the street. “What’s he driving?”
Paul gave a description of the vehicle, including the license plate number. “He looked like he’d been roughed up a little.”
Jackson pulled his phone from his pocket and texted the information to someone, probably his father. Paul approved of this action. Local police should be on the lookout for Bennett, even if he hadn’t committed any crimes here.
“He knew she’d reserved the cabin,” Paul added. “He’s tracking her somehow.”
“He’s always been clever with technology,” Jackson said.
“Don’t let her go anywhere alone.”
“You think I can stop her?”
Paul met his gaze steadily. “I think you can follow her.”
Jackson crossed his arms over his chest and stared back at Paul. “This is a family issue. We’ll handle it our way.”
Paul didn’t have room to argue. He wasn’t Vanessa’s boyfriend, or her bodyguard. He was just the guy who’d lied to her to get her into bed. Then fallen in love with her, like an idiot. With a curt nod, Paul turned on his heel and left.
He climbed behind the wheel of his truck, but he didn’t turn on the engine.
He sat there, feeling dejected, and tried to plan his next conversation with Kyle.
He’d have to admit to a blown cover, even if Vanessa hadn’t revealed his true identity to her family.
Jackson had called him “Murphy,” so maybe she’d kept quiet.
Either way, the vetted hideaway was a bust. Kyle would have to scramble around and relocate him at the worst possible moment.
The heat was on in Houston. A police officer had been shot by a trained killer, and there were no suspects in custody. This was cause for panic.
Paul wondered bleakly what the next few hours would hold.
The Mendez family was targeting cops, and everyone knew it, but they needed direct evidence to build a case.
Organized professionals were difficult to prosecute.
Paul didn’t care about bringing anyone in the Mendez family to justice.
He didn’t care if they all walked free. He didn’t care about going back to his old life, either.
He didn’t care about Houston. He only cared about Vanessa and Emily, and keeping them safe.
Instead of leaving, he stayed in his truck as the sun dipped lower in the sky. He didn’t feel right about letting her brother handle the situation. Paul believed in gut feelings, and his told him trouble was brewing.
He sensed danger, even doom, on the horizon.