When he got onto the street, he sped up, then maneuvered his way through the city by taking side streets and making unexpected turns to make sure no one was on their tail.
They’d gone about five miles when he started to breathe a little easier.
“I think we’re okay,” he said, looking over at Avery.
The sun was starting to come up, and he could see her face better now. She was pale but stoic, no sign of tears or panic. Considering this was the second time in less than twelve hours that they’d had to run for their lives, she was holding up amazingly well. He turned at the next corner and pulled into a parking lot behind a trio of retail shops. He turned off the lights but kept the engine on in case they had to make a quick exit.
“Why are we stopping, Wyatt?”
“I’m trying to figure out where to go,” he admitted. “I’m also trying to figure out how they found us at the hotel.”
“The fire alarm—it was just to get us out of the hotel.”
“Yeah. I had a bad feeling about it. We probably should have stayed put.”
“I don’t understand how they found us.”
“Maybe they traced the rideshare pickups in that area.”
“Wouldn’t that take some kind of police warrant? Would the people following us have that capability?”
“I don’t know, but they found us, so they did something.” His gaze fell to the handbag on Avery’s lap. “Let me see your bag.”
“Why?”
“Just let me take a look.”
She handed her bag over, and he searched through it, pulling out her wallet, a brush, a couple of lipsticks, sunglasses, and a compact. For a woman’s purse, it was fairly tidy—typical Avery, he thought. But there was something loose at the bottom. He pulled out what looked like a bead from a necklace and held it up to Avery. “Recognize this?”
“No. What is it?”
“It’s a GPS tracker. Someone put it in your purse.”
“Oh, my God, they could be right behind us.”
“Not for long.” He checked to make sure there was nothing else in her bag, then tossed the bead out the window and peeled out of the lot.
He got on the nearby freeway and drove south for several miles, then exited and drove city streets, carefully checking his mirrors for a tail. The sun was coming up higher in the sky and the neighborhoods were starting to wake up.
As he stopped at a light, he looked over at Avery. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. But do you have a plan beyond just driving around?”
“We need to kill an hour. We can go to Nova Star at seven. That’s when all the security will be coming in, setting up for the day, checking the offices, the building, in preparation for the media.”
“All right. I guess we can just drive around—” She stopped abruptly, her gaze dropping to his chest. “Oh, my God, Wyatt, you’re bleeding.”
“What?” he asked in bemusement.
“Your side. There’s blood all over your shirt. You were hit.”
“I don’t feel anything,” he said. But as he looked down, he could see blood all over the bottom half of his shirt. As the light changed, he pulled over to the side of the road. Then he pulled up his shirt, revealing a slice wound across his side. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, the pain starting to come now that he was coming down off the adrenaline high. “It’s just a graze.”
“It’s still bleeding,” she said with concern. “And that’s a big deal. You need to have that cleaned, maybe stitched. We have to go to the hospital.”
“No. They’ll find us there. If they think they hit one of us, that’s the first place they’ll check.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here while you bleed.”
No, they couldn’t. He needed to get Avery somewhere safe, and right now there was only one person he could trust. Luckily, she lived about ten minutes away. He didn’t want to bring danger to her, but if anyone could handle it, it was Bree.
He pulled out his phone and sent her a quick text, hoping she’d answer by the time he got to her house.
“Who did you contact?” Avery asked.
“A friend. We’ll go to her house.”
“I don’t think we should bring anyone else into this.”
“She can handle it.”
“She?” Avery echoed.
He didn’t answer as his phone buzzed. He glanced down at the text. Bree had sent him her address and told him to park in the driveway. “It’s going to be fine,” he told Avery.
“Why don’t I drive?”
“I can make it,” he said, forcing the lightheaded feeling out of his head. He powered down his phone, then turned to Avery, realizing he should have gotten rid of the phones at the same time he got rid of the tracker, but, clearly, he wasn’t thinking as well as he should be. “Give me your phone.”
“My phone?” she asked unhappily. “I have everything on my phone.”
“It’s backed up, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you don’t need this one.” He turned it off and then drove down the alley and tossed both phones into a nearby dumpster.
With the pain starting to increase in his side, he drove as quickly as he could to Bree’s house.
She met them at the door. “Come in,” she said. “What happened?”
“We got shot at,” he said, his words starting to slur.
“Wyatt got hit,” Avery put in, her arm sliding around him.
“It’s nothing. I just need to sit down,” he said.
Bree put her arm around his other side, and the two women helped him to the couch. Then Bree ran into the nearby bathroom and came back with some towels.
“Put pressure on the wound,” she said to Avery, handing her a towel. “I’m Bree, by the way.”
“I’m Avery.”
“I know,” Bree said. “I’ll be right back with my first aid kit.”
Avery helped him off with his jacket and then pressed the towel against his wound. “Sorry if I’m hurting you.”
“It’s okay. This is nothing. I’ve been hurt a lot worse.”
“I really think you need a doctor.”
“Bree can fix it up.”
“She can?” Avery asked with a raised brow. “Is she a doctor?”
“No, I’m not a doctor,” Bree said, returning with her kit. “But I think I can take care of this. Do you mind?”
Avery didn’t look too convinced, but she moved to the other side of the couch, still staying close to him.
Bree handed him three pills and a glass of water. “Start with these.”
He tossed them down his throat as Bree opened up his shirt.
“Probably going to scar,” she said, as she cleaned the wound.
“That will just make me hotter, right?” He tried to smile at Avery, but she was staring back at him with worry and a bit of wariness. He probably shouldn’t have brought her here, but he’d had to go somewhere, and Bree was his best option.
“Please don’t agree with him,” Bree said to Avery. “Wyatt’s ego is already too big.”
“Where do you two know each other from?” Avery asked.
Bree remained silent, letting him come up with the answer. “We met a while ago, in class,” he said vaguely, hoping Avery would think he was talking about college.
“This might hurt,” Bree said, as she cleaned his wound.
Avery slipped her hand into his. “Hang on to me,” she said, holding his gaze. “You can break my fingers if you need to.”
“I’d never want to do that.” He winced as pain rocketed through him. Fortunately, Bree worked quickly.
“I’m just going to butterfly this,” Bree said, putting bandage strips over his wound. “You could probably use a stitch or two.”
“This will be fine,” he said, as she finished.
“So, what happened?” Bree asked, getting up from where she’d been kneeling on the ground and perching on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. She wore leggings and a long
T-shirt and, clearly, she’d been in bed when he’d called.
“We were staying at a hotel—someone pulled the fire alarm. When we got outside, shots were fired.” He knew Bree would read between the lines.
“How did you get away?” she asked.
“That was luck. Hotel was next to a rental car agency. Found a car in the lot with the keys in the console.”
“That is lucky. You really do have nine lives, Wyatt,” Bree said. “Although, you have used up a few of them.”
He could see Avery’s interested gaze following their conversation. He turned to her. “Do you think you could get me a glass of water?”
“Of course. But this is Bree’s house. Maybe she should do it. Unless you want to talk to her without me? If that’s the case, I’m going to use the restroom.”
“It’s down the hall on the right,” Bree said, as Avery got to her feet.
“Thanks. I’ll bring you some water when I come back.”
Wyatt waited until he heard the bathroom door close. He just hoped Avery had actually gone inside the bathroom before closing the door and wasn’t listening in the hallway.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “We went to Avery’s father’s house for dinner. Someone followed us through the Santa Monica Mountains, almost ran us off the road. We switched cars, went to a different hotel, but I didn’t find out until a brief while ago that someone had put a GPS tracker in Avery’s bag. I got rid of it, as well as our phones, right after I texted you. Hopefully, no one knows we’re here, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I’m sure you were careful. Someone put the tracker in Avery’s bag while you were at the party?”
“I think so. She put it down by the front door when we walked in, although we were at Nova Star earlier in the day.”
“Who was at the party?”
“Almost everyone who’s a suspect. But if someone at that party was responsible for everything that came after that…it’s someone Avery knows, someone I know.” He paused. “I’m worried it’s her father. He spent a lot of time in China. He likes money. He showed up at Avery’s door several months ago. He’s now practically engaged to a Tremaine heiress…”
“I’ll look into that angle.” She paused as Avery came back into the room. “Why don’t I make you both some coffee, maybe breakfast?”
“I would love coffee,” he said. “Avery?”
“Sure, why not?” she said, a hard note in her voice. “And then, maybe you can tell me who you are to each other.”
“I told you we’re friends,” he said.
“We really are just friends,” Bree added, with a reassuring smile. “I have a boyfriend—actually, a fiancé. He’s just out of town today.”
“I’m not jealous,” Avery said, folding her arms in front of her. “I’m suspicious.” She glanced at Bree. “You know how to take care of a gunshot wound. You were willing to open up your door at six o’clock in the morning and not ask any questions about how Wyatt got shot. I don’t think you’re just a friend.” Her gaze moved to Wyatt. “But I don’t want to hear the story from her. I want to hear it from you. Start talking, Wyatt.”
He could see the determined glint in her eyes and knew he had no choice but to give her the truth. “Okay. I’ll tell you who Bree is.”
“I’m going to take a shower and then make some coffee,” Bree said, giving him a commiserating smile. “Good luck, Wyatt.”
After Bree left, Avery sat down on the couch, keeping more distance between them. It was hard to believe now how close they’d been only a few hours ago.
Drawing in a breath, he said, “Remember when I told you that you didn’t really know who I was?”
“Yes. So, who are you? And who is Bree?”
“Bree is an FBI agent.” He paused. “And so am I.”
Chapter Twenty
Avery sucked in a breath at his words. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting Wyatt to say, but it wasn’t that. As soon as he’d contacted Bree, as soon as they’d stepped into this house, she’d known something was off. Watching Bree take care of his wound in such a professional manner for a non-medical person had only reinforced that idea.
But now…now she had to deal with a truth she wasn’t ready for, and that truth was that Wyatt had been lying to her.
“You’re working for the FBI?” she said slowly.
“Undercover.”
“So, Hamilton doesn’t know—”
“No one at Nova Star knows—except you.”
“And I only know because we’re here. You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
“Not while the job was on,” he admitted.
She thought for a moment, still trying to process his words. “I don’t understand. If you’re a federal agent, why did you sneak into Hamilton’s company?”
“Because he shut the FBI out. Because Nova Star’s new satellite defense system has far-reaching implications, and if anyone steals it or sabotages it, the country as a whole could suffer serious consequences. The bureau could not make Hamilton understand that. Actually, that’s not true. He understood. He just wanted to protect his family and try to handle things himself.”
His words made sense, but as she thought about everything he’d told her, she realized just how underhanded he’d been. “You said that you saved Hamilton from a carjacking, and that’s how you met him, how you got the job. That’s a big coincidence.”
“It was a set-up. The two men who attempted to rob Hamilton were FBI.”
“So, you were never in any danger when you saved his life?”
“No. It was my way in. And it didn’t start there. We made sure that Hamilton’s former security director won an unexpected lottery prize and suddenly had the money to retire with his wife. Then we made plans on how to insert me into his operation. He obviously wasn’t looking to hire a stranger off the street. I had to make him trust me. Then when Hamilton saw my Marine-issued duffel bag, we bonded as former soldiers. He wanted to reward me for saving him. I said I didn’t want charity, and after some discussion, he gave me a job in security. Once there, I showed him I could be of help to him, and he handed me more responsibilities. He told me about the security breach, the FBI, and his concern for Jonathan. I’ve been working on finding the truth from the inside. It actually worked out well, because Hamilton did want someone looking into the breach; he just wanted to protect his family at the same time.”
His words were delivered in a pragmatic, and non-emotional tone. There was no regret in his voice, no guilt about the secrecy, the lies.
She twisted her fingers together. “Were you even a Marine?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“But you have the tattoo on your wrist.”
“It’s fake.”
She let out a breath. “Wow, I really don’t know you.”
His hard gaze met hers. “I didn’t lie about everything, Avery.”
“You didn’t? Because it sure seems like you did.”
“What I told you about my family—that was all true. It happened. My father and brother went to jail. I lived through that. It’s part of my real life, a part that very few people know about.”
“A life you lived under another name, which I still don’t know.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “How does that make this better?”
“I don’t know about better, but I wanted you to know that not everything I told you was a lie.”
He grimaced as he shifted position, and her heart tweaked a little, knowing he’d just taken a bullet for her. But she was still angry, still hurt, and she needed to stop letting her emotions rule her decisions.
“Let’s get back to your cover. Hamilton doesn’t know you’re on the inside, but you’re not really on the opposite side. He wants to find the mole and so do you.”
“Yes, which has made it easier. But Hamilton was still reluctant to give me real access to his sons until Noelle was killed. He’d convinced himself that Jia Lin’s death was one isolated incident and that whoever h
ad stolen the classified information had either gone underground or no longer had access to anything with our new enhanced security procedures. Noelle’s death changed that.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me this before, Wyatt? Maybe not right away, but what about yesterday? What about last night? We escaped with our lives twice. Couldn’t you trust me with the truth?”
“I’m trusting you now.”
“It’s a little late, Wyatt.”
He frowned. “I know. We shouldn’t have slept together.”
“This isn’t about that.”
He gave her a long look. “Isn’t it partly about that, Avery?” He paused, waiting for her answer, but she didn’t feel like providing one. Then he continued. “In my defense—”
“You have a defense?” she asked, cutting him off.
“Last night, I told you there was a lot about me you didn’t know. You said you wanted to live in the moment, that you didn’t care,” he reminded her.
“But I didn’t know what I didn’t know,” she protested, wishing she had a stronger leg to stand on. But he was right. She had ignored the fact that they didn’t know each other well. She’d wanted him, and she’d acted on it.
“And I said that you’d regret it, that you wouldn’t want me if you knew me better, and you told me not to tell you what you wanted.”
“I know what I said,” she said, getting to her feet and looking out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky.
“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said. “For what it’s worth.”
She turned around. “For what exactly?”
“For not being able to tell you the truth. I do trust you, Avery. That’s why I brought you here, why I let you meet Bree, why I’m telling you all this now.” He let that sink in, and then added, “And why I have to ask you to keep my cover. Someone is trying to kill you, and we need to deal with that before we deal with the rest.”
“Kill me or kill you?” she wondered, returning to the couch. “It occurs to me that I’ve been in more danger since I’ve been with you.”
Dangerous To Love Page 57
