Lost: Project Xol

by Amabel Daniels

  “You…” She swallowed hard again.

  I kissed her. Regret wasn’t messing up my head. Her intrigued stare was intimidating me, though.

  “You aren’t even out of breath.”

  I shrugged and helped her to stand up. As she stood and stepped away, not really requiring my help to be upright, she pulled her phone out. A nod followed.

  “Yeah. He sent me the details.” She winced, still catching her breath, and typed on her phone. “Actually, it doesn’t seem too far from here.”

  “Maybe we could walk it then.”

  She snorted. “I need a longer break before I try to run again.”

  A smile teased my lips but I bit it back. Now wasn’t the time to poke fun at her dislike for cardio.

  Paying attention to the screen, she started off. I followed, letting my heart slow down some more. With her in front of me, I tracked her movement, appreciating her taking the lead. Well, hell. Appreciating her, really. That she’d ever wanted to do something gallant as save me from danger. That she’d softened enough to give me a chance to stay with her.

  “You coming along, or what?” she asked, tossing me a look over her shoulder.

  I grinned then, enjoying the fiery sass in her tone.

  Yeah, I was coming along. And yeah, maybe I was lagging behind too much and getting an eyeful of her sweet ass. For a woman who loathed cardio, she was slim and curvy in just the right places. I caught up to her and she immediately grabbed my hand.

  Staring at our link, I almost laughed. It was the first time she’d initiated this now-familiar bond. Was she reaching out to me for her own comfort? Or was she offering?

  “What happened back there?”

  Since she asked so softly, hesitantly almost, I could tell she was being cautious.

  “That man…” I started.

  “Who is he?”

  I licked my lips, feeling my heart start to race again at the mention of Ryan. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Sure.”

  Sure? That was it? She didn’t even want to press about when? Or huff about having to wait? Is this what patience is? It wasn’t my strongest suit so it was foreign to be on the receiving end of it.

  “Let’s just find this car and get away from here.”

  Her only reply was to squeeze my hand.

  Two hours later, Cassidy and I sped away from the area of town where we’d gotten off track from locating our new ride. Apparently, there had been a rezoning attempt recently because the street we were supposed to be on wasn’t uploading on Cassidy’s app. Or maybe it was the crappy phone itself and the sketchy reliability of the data-per-minute internet access.

  Zero had done well. He didn’t score us a cheap piece-of-shit at all. We were now driving a well-maintained SUV with plenty of miles on it but even more plentiful legroom. A tall man like myself needed space. We’d picked it up from a middle-aged woman who didn’t need it since her parents finally agreed to go into a nursing home.

  “They’re going to be at the campus tomorrow.”

  Cassidy stated it as a fact. I tore my attention from my phone, pausing my search for another hotel for the night.

  “Since the last tracker location was at Deana’s lab. They’re going to know we’re on to them following us.”

  “As if there was any doubt.”

  She snorted at my sarcasm and continued on. “So they’ll be there.”

  I shifted to get comfortable in my seat. A spring or two had been abused in the passenger seat. “And if they have been informed of Scott’s academics, they’ll know he was a professor in the sciences building.”

  “Which means they’ll either be waiting at wherever Scott used to work on campus or at the library for archives.”

  Our assumptions were moot points. If Michael had been aware of or involved with Project Xol for three decades, he likely knew plenty about the researchers. I nodded. “Sounds about right.”

  “Can we…prepare for them?”

  I quirked a brow. How could we be one step ahead? Sounded nice, but Michael had proven to be unexpectedly resourceful. And Ryan…I had no clue how he fit in this. “Prepared how?”

  “Some extra form of defense. A weapon. Can we get a gun?”

  Michael’s knife was still in my pocket. I wasn’t completely unarmed. Still, I sighed. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “No…o. Not really.”

  “Have you ever handled a gun?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  I tapped on my phone, liking the images of the crappy motel I’d found. “Then what good would that be?”

  “Well, you could.” She glanced at me and I deadpanned at her. “I mean, you look like you know how to use a gun.”

  I waited.

  “You said…you said you’d killed people before.”

  I had. I wasn’t proud of it but I’d do it again if I had to.

  “So I bet you could be the head of the defense department here.”

  “And because I’ve killed people before, I went to this little place called prison. And since leaving there, I’m not exactly allowed to carry one.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped as she drove on. “Right.”

  Before she could wallow in her obvious disappointment of a dead-end idea, I spoke up, providing her directions to our lodging across from town. It wasn’t anywhere near the one we’d just fled from, and it was even closer to the college. My hope was to be nearer to our destination to promise a quick in-and-out.

  On the way there, we stopped at a store to stock up on what we agreed were necessities. A couple more changes of clothes. New shoes for her, plus socks. More protein bars and water. I suggested grabbing a couple of simple sleeping bags in case we wanted to camp out instead of hotels. Other camping tools were tossed in as well. You never know…

  Even though we were firm in our next steps, staying safe long enough to get to Scott’s data, we had no idea what would come after. The end goal was to deliver the info to Rosa, but until she was found, it seemed like we’d have a waiting game.

  Before too long, we arrived and checked in at our new place—no IDs, no credit, and no surveillance cameras, from the looks of the rundown and outdated lobby. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d stumbled on a stopover for hookers. We crossed paths with no less than two who’d eyed me like they wished I’d pay for an hour of their time.

  Cassidy clutched my hand and wrapped her free fingers around my bicep, plastering herself to my side as we headed for our room. Once we were inside, she exhaled long and hard. “Are you sure this place is…safe?”

  No doubt, she was unnerved by the druggies who’d tracked our every step down the open-air hallway outside. “Yeah. Safe from who we’re running from.” I tossed my jacket to the table and regarded the single bed. Safe from bed bugs and other nasty things semi-hidden to the eye, maybe not.

  “What if we just slept in the car for the night?” she asked, grimacing at the ink blot-shaped stain of undistinguishable liquid on the bedcover.

  “We can put the sleeping bags over it.”

  She still made a face about it but agreed. I let her shower first, eating a couple of protein bars for dinner. When she came out, I cleaned up.

  “Want me to put some of that cream on?” she asked. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and shoved her wrappers into the plastic bag of garbage.

  “Do you mind?” I asked.

  She stood and avoided meeting my eyes. “No. I meant what I said.” As she made to walk past me, heading for the backpack on the dresser, I caught her gently by the arm. She stilled, swaying into me at the momentum from her stride. Her elbow brushed against the skin above my sweatpants, since I was still too damp from the shower to put a shirt on.

  “Which part of what you said?”

  She still didn’t look up, standing there next to me. I tipped her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. Facing me, she gnawed on the corner of her lip. I smoothed my finger from her chin to her lips,
pulling the flesh free from her torture.

  “That I don’t want you to get hurt. Or…stay hurt. Because of me.”

  Her chest heaved with deep breaths, pushing her tits closer to me. Locked in her proximity, or maybe stupidly relaxed from the hot shower, I fell too deep into her. Into the promise of her.

  She lowered her gaze to my chest and when she looked back up, there was no mistaking the guilt…and desire in her eyes. I released her and took a step back. It was too hot, too heavy. Too much right now. Sure, I’d been confident to steal that kiss earlier, but there was no way we were having sex in this shitty room. She deserved better.

  She deserves better than me no matter where we are.

  With another step back, I tried to break the spell completely. Until I could crush all of my self-loathing and doubt, I’d never feel like I wasn’t stealing something from her.

  “I told you before and I’ll say it again. If you hadn’t intervened with that pan, neither of us would be alive right now.” To prove her that time would heal it all, I rotated my shoulder, flexing the worst spot of pain. “So, thanks.”

  Turning away from her, I went to the bed and sat on the edge. She crawled up next to me, on her knees, and then maneuvered into place behind me. At the first touch of her kneading my still-tender skin, I groaned. Her fingers lifted off immediately.

  “I don’t want to make it worse.”

  I reached up and over my shoulder to grab her hand and return it to where it was. “It’ll feel better.” Honestly, it did feel good. Painful, but good.

  We didn’t speak for a few moments and I held back from groaning or making other noises as she rubbed the smelly ointment in. In no time at all, the stinging coolness of the medicine heated and chilled my flesh.

  “Who was that man, Luke?”

  I closed my eyes. I should have known she wouldn’t let it go. I’d told her I’d explain later and I supposed this was later enough. Still, Ryan Caine was a topic I never wanted to discuss.

  “He was an inmate at the same prison where I did my time.”

  Her hand stilled but remained on me. The mattress sank next to my hip and I could tell she was scooting closer. Probably to hear me. I wasn’t whispering, but I couldn’t find the strength to speak clearly about that guy.

  “Was?” She moved her fingers again. “Was he released then? Paroled?”

  I shook my head.

  “He…broke out?”

  I shrugged my free shoulder. I honestly had no clue.

  “If he’s a fugitive, why would he be with a cop-slash-FBI-agent?”

  I huffed. “Who knows. Michael’s nothing but a big question mark.”

  “True,” she admitted slowly. “But you know who the other guy is. Tell me more, please. I like to know what I’m up against.”

  I slanted to raise a brow at her. With her on her knees and me seated, my chin was right about level with her breast. I licked my lips, too distracted to scold her on that I business. She rolled her eyes and shoved me to face forward again. “What we are up against.”

  I didn’t know why I needed to hear her repeat that we were in this together. Maybe because she’d been so determined to let me go. Or perhaps because I didn’t want to imagine us apart. Pretty freaky shit for a loner like me.

  “Ryan Caine. That’s his name,” I began. I summarized his crimes and sentences. Then I plowed through the harder part. “He was constantly causing trouble, a typical bully. And for whatever reason, maybe because I’d been rewarded for good behavior, or maybe because of who I’d killed to get into prison, he targeted me.”

  “Targeted you for what?” She’d ceased with the cream and now stood in the bathroom, fervently washing her hands of the sticky, smelly cream.

  “Death.”

  At my simple answer, she stood up straight and stared at me.

  “He attacked me.”

  “The scars on your back?” she asked.

  I nodded. He’d gotten to my spleen, injured other vital organs. Broken bones. If the guards hadn’t found me when they had, I would have bled to death. For the damaged body I’d lain in, waiting for the darkness to save me, I almost wished I had, it hurt so bad.

  “That was when Dale had stepped in and got me out early.”

  “And Ryan? What happened to him?”

  I shrugged again. “I don’t know. I was told he’d retaliated and attacked a prison guard and killed him. That’s a felony. He should be dead—or at least on death row.”

  “But…”

  I stood and rubbed at the stubble on my jaw. Why didn’t I think to get a razor when we were at the store? I met her troubled gaze regardless, saying, “Ryan should either be dead or still behind bars. How or why he’s not…I have no clue.”

  “And he’s with…Michael.” She left the bathroom, hugging herself. “He’s a cop…or something.”

  “Yeah. Or something.” A man who hasn’t aged for three decades. A guy with an ambiguous law enforcement role. A monster who wanted us dead. Paired with the thug who’d already tried that feat on me… I huffed. This was nothing but a clusterfuck.

  A siren wailed outside. I whipped my head to face the door to our room. My heart thundered faster and I stepped back.

  “Shit.”

  I barely heard Cassidy’s mumble over the roar in my head. It wasn’t panic, yet. Adrenaline coursed through me, readying me, again, to take flight. Frankly, I was getting tired of being on the go like this.

  “Police!”

  The yell outside was loud, but not right at our doorstep. A second later, a loud booming started. Yet it wasn’t for entry to our room. Cassidy ran to me. Guarding her with my arm out, we inched along the wall to peer out the curtain. Three police cruisers were parked in the long, narrow parking lot. Red and blue flashed in the dark, reflecting a strobe of purple through the rain-streaked and unclean windowpane.

  “Carlos! Get your ass out here.” A man was yelling into a megaphone, his face turned toward a motel room to the west.

  They weren’t here for us. Relief began to ease the tightness in my chest.

  Pressed side to side, we watched for a moment as another motel room door was broken in. An older white man with a gnarly Santa beard and bald head stepped out. His smug look of disdain seemed awfully cocky as he stood there in his tighty-whities, beer belly hanging out for all the lowlifes in the parking lot to see. A hooker pointed at him and laughed.

  “Should we stay?” Cassidy whispered. “What if they see the SUV? That’s a brand-new license plate that no one will know.”

  I reached for my shirt on the table and tugged it on. Glancing down, I saw her bare feet so small and dainty next to mine. “Get your shoes on.”

  Her alarm was justified. We’d just gotten that new car. Vehicles weren’t as simple to replace as burner phones. And this burner car would be useless to us if it fell under the cop’s attention. Yet, those guys were clearly here for someone else, for something else. Just being near the cops had me on edge.

  “Where are they?” an officer yelled outside as someone cuffed Carlos.

  Words were exchanged, too quiet to hear from here despite the thin walls. Then Carlos spat at the officer. “Them’s here somewhere. It ain’t none a my business.”

  “Search the rooms.” The officer wiped at the spit on his vest and twirled his finger in the air, like a summons to round up. “Every goddamn one of these rooms. You find that shit.”

  They? Them? That shit? Were they after Carlos for people or for a thing? Either way, it didn’t matter. Cops obeyed their leader and started knocking on doors at the other end of the hotel. Give or take—I tried to count with another look out the window—we had eight rooms between us and the cops.

  Cassidy hopped up to me, still pulling her new shoe on. The backpack was already strapped over her shoulders, hanging down lopsidedly as she tilted and fiddled with the shoe. “Out the window?”

  I’d noticed it too. A small one in the bathroom, but big enough to bust through. I nodded.

>   Cassidy led the way to the still-steaming room and pointed at the square of hazy fiberglass. “At least we don’t have to break it.”

  Small tabs lined the shape. While it made it very easy for us to exit through, it bothered me how unsecure it was for a trespasser to come in. Then again, this wasn’t a fancy place to stay. Maybe the window was easily removable from past practice from this dump’s clientele. Like another Carlos.

  Cassidy popped the tabs and I helped her set the pane on the ground. Just as she put herself out the opening into the weedy back alley strip of the motel did knocks come on the door.

  “Police. Open up!”

  We were not getting caught in here. I’d be damned if we did. I shooed my hands at Cassidy. “Go, go!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke

  I woke with a crick in my neck. Trying to get some sleep in the driver’s seat required acrobatics my tall frame wouldn’t allow. I appreciated the space in the SUV but it wasn’t ideal for sleeping. We’d tried to unlatch the backseats and lower them for something horizontal to rest on, but something was stuck—and it was an infuriating frustration we’d both given up on solving after arguing for too long.

  Stifling a groan, I turned my head and watched Cassidy dozing next to me. At some point in the night, she’d surrendered to the impossibility of decent rest against the window. Now, she lay—sat?—curled into a tight ball, hugging a pillow. Her red tresses cascaded over the hard foam center console, where she’d lain her head.

  I stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Hell, could I even say I’d slept? It didn’t feel like it. Or maybe thirty-three was the new sixty-three.

  After we’d escaped from the hole-in-the-wall motel, we rounded the building and casually approached the SUV. Cops were still around, but they’d paid us no mind. Turned out they’d arrived for busting Carlos and a few of his sex-trafficking associates because as soon as Cassidy and I entered our car, the team of officers exited the room next to ours. They wore triumphant smiles and as Cassidy cracked open her window, we heard the praise they offered each other for finding the teens and kidnapped kids they’d been seeking.