The Extractor

by Leslie Georgeson

  A soft gasp, and a wobbly, “Ryan?”

  Luke’s hard stare bored into me, but I ignored him.

  My chest grew tighter. “Yeah, Mom. It’s me.”

  She let out a sob. “My Ryan? My sweet boy? It’s really you?”

  I swallowed hard, forcing the huge lump from my throat. More memories slammed into me. Me and Mom. It had always been just the two of us. We’d been so close before they’d ripped me away. She’d been overprotective of me, babying me even. Shit. At the time I’d been embarrassed. Being a momma’s boy wasn’t cool. But now I understood why she’d been so overprotective. She’d probably been fearing the day The General would come to take me away.

  I drew in a ragged breath, again pushing the memories aside. I was about to fucking lose it, the overwhelming rush of emotions almost too much to bear. I needed to get a grip before I embarrassed myself.

  “Yeah, Mom, it’s really me.”

  Luke cleared his throat, turning away. He was as affected by this as I was. As my dreg partner, he experienced my emotions and physical pain along with me.

  “Oh my goodness! Oh my gracious! Ryan! My Ryan!” She started to cry.

  Liz’s gaze darted to mine, her eyes welling with tears. I jerked my gaze away as I felt a suspicious wetness in my own eyes. Shit. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried.

  Get it together, man. You can’t lose it in front of everyone.

  Right.

  I coughed several times. Then managed to find my voice again. “Mom, Liz is right. You need to get out of town. It’s not safe here anymore.”

  Another pause, then, “I’m already gone. I left for Georgia about an hour ago.”

  Relief swept through me. “Don’t go to Georgia. It’s not safe there, either.”

  Her breath hitched again. “I’m coming back there. I’m going to turn around at the next exit.”

  “No! Don’t come back here. It’s too dangerous. Find a hotel to stay the night, then call us when you get checked in. I’ll come to you when I can.”

  There was a moment of silence, then, her voice sounding hopeful, “It’s really you, Ryan? This isn’t a dream?”

  I swallowed hard again, the knot swelling in my throat.

  And I was that thirteen-year-old boy again. Innocent and carefree. Unaware of the danger coming to get me.

  “Yes, it’s really me, Mom.” I felt her love for me flowing through the phone as strongly as I had back then. This moment seemed surreal. Was I really talking to my mom again after all these years? My chest thickened even more, expanding with emotion.

  She puffed out a breath over the line. “Whew! This is very emotional for me. Okay, then. I was trying to hurry to get to Georgia so I could find you, but if you’re not there, then I guess I have no reason to keep traveling east. I’ll take the next exit and find a hotel. Then I’ll call you.”

  I shoved the teenaged boy aside and let the man—the soldier—return. “Good. Do that. Be safe, Mom. Be wary. And keep your eyes open to danger. I promise I will come for you as soon as I can.”

  “What about Liz?” my mother asked. “Is she in danger?”

  She was now. I couldn’t just leave her here. I would have to take her with me. “I’ll take care of Liz,” I promised. “You just worry about you right now, okay?”

  Liz flinched, her gaze darting to mine.

  “All right,” my mother said at last. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re really alive. I can’t believe it! My boy, my sweet boy! I can’t wait to see you, Ryan. I can’t wait.”

  “Me, neither, Mom. See you soon.” I disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Liz. Jesus. That had been the most emotionally charged experience I’d gone through in fourteen years. I gulped in air, trying to get a grip.

  Luke caught my gaze. “Let’s roll.” His voice was slightly husky with emotion. I’d never heard him talk like that before. He cleared his throat again, then said more sharply, “We need to get the fuck out of here before the cops show up.”

  He and Mateo hurried next door to grab their bags, while I snatched my own bag up from off the floor where I’d dropped it after checking in earlier. Liz stayed sitting on the bed, eyeing me warily.

  Tossing my bag over my shoulder, I turned to her. “Let’s go.”

  “You really are Glenda’s son,” she whispered. “It’s true.”

  “Yes.” My chest tightened with emotion once more.

  “Then I’m definitely going with you,” she announced, leaping off the bed. She swept past me, keeping her gaze averted from the bodies littering the floor.

  After the earlier distrust and wariness she’d shown me, I had honestly expected her to refuse. I had even been preparing persuasive arguments that might convince her to come along.

  A smile teased my lips. This chick was constantly full of surprises. As soon as I started to think I might have her figured out, she did something to completely confound me again.

  And I fucking loved it. She was as unpredictable as the weather. Frosty one moment, hot and sultry the next.

  I grabbed my coat from out of the chair, noting it was now ridden with bullet holes. I shrugged it on, more interested in the girl strutting out of the room in front of me, my gaze drawn to those sexy curves.

  I caught up with Liz out in the hallway, more than a little pleased that my time with her wouldn’t be coming to an end just yet.

  In fact, our adventure was just beginning.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Liz

  Ryan told me to leave my car at the inn. He said he would bring me back for it when it was safe for me to return. Then he led me toward a pearl blue Lamborghini parked around the back of the inn.

  I gaped as he opened the door—it rose up like a swan wing instead of out like a regular car door—and motioned me into the passenger’s seat. Wow. I’d never seen such a fancy car up close like this before. How could he afford this thing? It had to cost a quarter of a million dollars or more. Probably more.

  You don’t know anything about him. He could be a criminal for all you know.

  No. He’s Glenda’s son, and he’s working with the FBI. I overheard that. He must be good. If he was a criminal, he wouldn’t be keeping me safe right now. He would leave me behind to fend for myself.

  Why was he keeping me safe? Who was he?

  Ryan slid behind the wheel and pressed the push-start button with his finger. The engine rumbled to life.

  “Buckle up,” he said, clicking his own seatbelt into place. I followed suit, buckling up. He backed out of the parking lot, his gaze cautious. The other two guys—Luke and Mateo, I had learned—were in the black Porsche in front of us.

  As we drove out of the parking lot moments later, three cop cars screeched to a stop in front of the building. Whew. That had been close. I snatched my phone out of my purse and called Glenda, telling her what had happened so she wouldn’t be shocked when the cops called her.

  “I’ll handle it,” she said. “You just go with Ryan and stay safe.”

  I stuffed my phone back in my purse and glanced at Ryan. His cheek was no longer bleeding, the wound now clotting, the entire side of his face streaked with dried blood. His shirt sleeve was covered in blood from where he’d pressed it against the wound. A bullet had apparently skimmed along his upper cheek, ripping through the skin and muscle. It looked like it hurt, but Ryan hadn’t taken the time to tend to it yet. He’d probably need stitches. He’d also likely have a scar once the wound healed, but, honestly, he was so good-looking, it wouldn’t really matter.

  He noticed me studying his wound. “Does it look bad?”

  I jerked my gaze to his. “Not really. I mean, yeah, it looks like it hurts, but it’s not horrendous. You might need stitches.”

  “You know how to stitch a wound?”

  I hesitated. “Uh, no. But I’m not squeamish or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m sure I could learn.” Though the idea of sticking a needle into Ryan’s handsome face and suturing his cheek closed w
asn’t exactly appealing, I felt I could probably do it. Maybe.

  He grinned. “Good. I’ve got a medical bag in the back. I might need you to stitch me up once we find a place to stop. I wouldn’t want to scare the ladies off with a nasty scar.” He winked.

  Heat flushed into my face, though I wasn’t sure why he affected me this way. The guy was a total flirt. I knew that. I knew not to fall for his type. He would only use me and lose me. I needed to keep my distance from him. I needed to remind myself that I hated guys like him.

  So why was I so drawn to him? Why did I like him so much?

  I turned away and glanced out my window. “Where are we going?”

  “You and I are heading west. Luke and Mateo are heading north.”

  I gave a start, turning back to him. “What about Glenda?” Glenda had been heading east, toward Arkansas, and eventually, to Georgia.

  He turned and met my gaze. “If any of us are being followed, then we don’t want to lead them to Glenda. She’s only in danger now because of me. I knew to stay away, but I…” He sighed. “I couldn’t resist stopping in to see her.”

  Something in his words tugged at my heartstrings. Had he missed his mother as much as she’d missed him? Though Ryan gave off the impression of a ladies’ man, I was beginning to suspect there was more to him than met the eye. What had kept him and Glenda apart for so many years? What was Ryan’s story?

  “So…” he cleared his throat, “…we’re heading in different directions for now. Once we determine we aren’t being followed, we can meet up somewhere. When Glenda calls, we’ll tell her to stay put and keep out of sight. Until we can get a handle on this situation, she’ll be safer away from the inn. And so will you.”

  That made sense. But that meant I would be alone with Ryan. For who knew how long. I turned away from him, nervousness and a painful awareness washing over me.

  I didn’t know if I could do this. I didn’t want to be alone with him for any length of time. The man was way too attractive for his own good. God help me, I didn’t know if I could resist him. Even being in the close confines of the car with him right now made my pulse race and my breath catch and my skin heat. The man was simply irresistible. And I was only human, after all.

  I stared out the window, not wanting him to see how nervous he made me.

  It dawned on me that I didn’t have anything with me except for the items in my purse. How long before it would be safe for me to return to the inn? I would need clothes and toiletries if we were gone for any length of time.

  I glanced back at Ryan, who was now steering the car onto the 49 and heading west toward the wildlife refuge.

  “How long before I can go back?”

  He stared straight ahead. “I don’t know. A few days. A week. Maybe more. Depends on how long it takes for either us or the FBI to track down Ellington and deal with him.”

  A week? Maybe more? That was too long. I didn’t want to admit how scared I was to be alone with him. I wasn’t afraid of Ryan, necessarily. But I was terrified of how he made me feel. Of how foolish I acted around him. Of what he could do to me if I let him. A part of me wanted that, wanted to know what it would be like to make love with Ryan, a man who would definitely know how to make a woman feel good. I had no doubt it would be memorable. Enjoyable.

  Heat crept into my face. I swallowed hard as I stared at his handsome profile, at the bloody wound on his cheek. Just looking at him made me all hot and bothered and squirmy inside. Ryan was truly gorgeous, even with that wound on his face. A perfect specimen of manliness. I wasn’t stupid. There was no way in hell he would ever be interested in me for anything more than sex.

  I was in trouble here. If he made a move on me, how would I be able to resist? This man could hurt me all too easily. I had to remain strong. No matter what happened over the next few days, or weeks, I had to keep from falling for him. I had to remember that he was a player—or was he? I wasn’t sure, anymore. But I vowed not to give in. The seducer—if indeed that was what he was—was not going to seduce me.

  “So,” I began, “who are you? Or can’t you tell me?”

  He turned back to me, a twinkle in his eyes. “I can tell you. But will you believe me?”

  Was he teasing? I wasn’t sure.

  “Tell me,” I urged. “I want to know. Who are you?”

  He cocked a dark brow, his lips twitching. “Do I sense genuine interest in that question? You don’t hate me after all?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I never hated you, I just…don’t like your type.”

  He huffed out a breath. “My type…that’s offensive, Liz. You keep judging me without even knowing me.”

  A wave of guilt washed over me. I was still judging him. Was that really fair? Maybe I should just give him a chance before I made up my mind about him. I really did like him. I just didn’t trust him yet.

  “Just answer the question. Who are you?”

  He chuckled. “Ryan.”

  I groaned. “Come on. Ryan who? What do you do? Where are you from?” I glanced at his prosthetic. “How did you lose your arm? Why haven’t you seen your mother for so many years? Where have you been?”

  He turned back to the road and I sensed he was contemplating what to tell me. “What did Glenda tell you about me?”

  I shrugged. “Just that your father took you from her when you were young. I don’t remember your exact age…”

  “Thirteen,” he supplied. “What else?”

  “She’s been searching for you all these years. But each time she gets a lead, it goes nowhere. Until now. That flyer…it’s really you, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  Of course it was. There was no mistaking those unusual eyes. “Why do you have a bounty on your head? Glenda said it was because you escaped and the people who were holding you prisoner want you dead. Why? What did you do?”

  He was silent a moment. “Did she tell you about the dregs?”

  “A little. She said that’s what they call the discharges—dregs. But I don’t really know what that means. What kind of discharge? Is that what you are? A dreg?”

  “Yeah. I was a super soldier until I was discharged. Now I’m a dreg.”

  Super soldier? What did he mean? Was he some type of special ops for the military?

  I snapped my fingers. “That’s right. The flyer said you have some kind of nickname. I think it started with an E.”

  “The Extractor,” he said quietly, and I detected a hint of discomfort in his words.

  “Right! That’s it. What does it mean?” My curiosity was increasing by the moment.

  He sighed. “It’s a long story. And I’m not sure if you would believe a word of it.”

  “Try me. Tell me who Ryan is.”

  He glanced askance at me. “You really want to know?”

  “I do. Really.” Did I sound as eager as I felt?

  He tensed suddenly, his gaze hardening. “We’ve got a tail. Dammit. Hold on. I’ll try to lose them.”

  What? I turned my head, glancing behind us. The headlights of several other vehicles glared at me. How could he tell if they were following us or were just traveling in the same direction we were?

  I turned back at him. “How can you tell someone is following us?”

  “Because those headlights have been behind us since we left the inn. And we’re on a deserted highway heading toward the wildlife refuge. The only reason they would be out here is if they were tailing us.” His voice was hard.

  “How many of them?” I asked.

  “Four. Hang on.” He pressed down on the gas pedal and the car lurched forward, speeding up. Reaching behind him with his prosthetic arm, he tried to remove a gun from the holster at his back, but the prosthetic fingers kept slipping off. I hesitated as I stared at that gun. Ryan was a super soldier. But he’d somehow lost part of his arm. We were being chased by someone who wanted him dead. He needed that gun.

  I slipped my hand behind his back and pulled the gun free, holding it out to
him. He startled, eyeing me warily. Then he took it from me with a mumbled and obviously embarrassed, “Thanks.”

  He switched hands, holding the steering wheel with the prosthetic and gripping the gun with his left hand. Then he pressed a button to roll back the convertible’s soft top roof, and the cold wind blustered around me, making me shiver.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, my hair whipping into my face. “It’s the middle of the winter!”

  He rolled down his window and lifted the gun, glancing askance at me. “We can’t outrun them forever. I need to stop them. And I can’t fit out of the window, so I had to put the top down. Can you hold the wheel, please?”

  I quickly reached over, grabbing the steering wheel. He was crazy!

  Gunshots banged from behind us, clanging and thudding into Ryan’s car. I screamed, my hand tightening around the steering wheel.

  “Steady, Liz. I put it on cruise control so all you have to do is steer.” He rose and turned, firing back at the cars behind us.

  Bang! Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang, bang!

  More bullets slammed into the car. One of the vehicles behind us careened sideways and slid off the road, crashing into a tree with a crunch!

  Ryan dropped back into his seat, opened the center console, then pulled out a fresh clip for his gun. He popped out the empty clip and slammed the new one in. He glanced at me, then winked.

  “You’re doing great, Liz. Just try to keep us on the road a little longer while I deal with these bastards.” He rose and turned around again, firing at the three remaining vehicles.

  Bang! Bang! Bang, bang, bang!

  Another one of the vehicles fell back, tires screeching as it spun around. I glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see it slam into another one of the cars.

  Clunk!

  I gasped, my hand nearly sliding off the wheel. Holy moly!

  Get it together, Liz. Don’t wreck!

  My teeth were chattering now from the cold. I drew in a deep breath and glanced in the mirror again. Both vehicles were twisted together in a mangled heap on the side of the road. It was unlikely anyone had survived that crash.