Crossfire Christmas

by Julie Miller

  “I’m okay with that rule.”

  They were cutting this too close. “No wonder your brother didn’t ask you any questions about my truck.”

  “What do you mean?” She reached the stairwell door and shoved it open.

  He scooted in right after her. “KCPD would have run the Texas plates and ID’d that truck as mine. An alert would have gone over the wire. Headquarters in Houston should have answered the alert by identifying me as an agent, one in need of assistance with that blood on the scene.”

  “AJ didn’t ask me any questions about the accident. If he’d suspected a fellow cop was in danger, he’d have asked me for details about what I’d seen. He wouldn’t have gone ballistic about me trying to help. He didn’t know your truck belonged to a cop.” The woman was smart. Thankfully, she was also sharp enough to check over the railing before heading down the stairs. “The mole in your office must have gotten that alert. And labeled you a fugitive.”

  “Or buried it without a response.” Nash waited to peer through the closing crack of the door as the elevator opened. The dark-haired man he’d spotted out front stepped out. That bulge beneath his coat wasn’t his cell phone. The guy was armed. Despite the bandaged graze in Nash’s thigh, his legs felt solid as he raced down the stairs behind Teresa. “The cartels already have someone else here.”

  “That guy out front?”

  “The guy knocking on your apartment door right now.”

  “My...?” When she stopped at the first-floor exit and spun around, he nearly plowed into her. “My email must have... What did I—?”

  “Forget it.” The fear or apology or whatever had widened those beautiful dark eyes was too much. He palmed the back of her neck, tipped her face up and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “None of this is your fault.” When her lips softened beneath his, he lifted her onto her toes and leaned in to kiss her again. “None of it.”

  The second kiss was almost as quick. But firmer. More satisfying. Less like an apology and more like a man testing his welcome with a woman he cared about.

  And she wasn’t pushing him away.

  He heard her soft catch of breath, felt her palm bracing against the thump of his heart, read the question in her upturned gaze and realized the import of what he’d just done. “What rule is that?” she whispered.

  “Sorry.” Why didn’t she slap his face? Why had she responded to his kiss? Why couldn’t he keep his priorities straight around this woman? But those were all questions to be answered later.

  Nash lowered her heels to the floor, released her and reached over her shoulder to push open the door. The blast of cold air that swept in instantly chilled his skin and cooled his roiling emotions. He nudged Teresa out the door, taking her hand and moving in front of her to lead her down the sidewalk to the corner of the building, where he paused to peek around and ensure their path was safe. He made certain there were no other unwanted visitors watching the parking lot or searching outside the building before he pulled her into a quick pace beside him. Her short legs had to do double time to keep up with his long strides, but she didn’t complain. She clicked the car’s remote start and had the doors unlocked when they got there.

  “You drive.” Although he trusted his skills behind the wheel more than hers, she knew the city. Plus, she was 100 percent while his stamina and reflexes were still iffy. Nash swung open the back door and tossed his bag on the seat, pulling out the scraper to brush snow off the windows while she hurried around and climbed inside. “Get the car warmed up and drive out of here nice and normal so we don’t draw any attention to ourselves. We’ll make your calls on the road and pick up whatever supplies we need later.”

  She had a blanket waiting for him when he got in beside her, then backed out of the parking space and shifted into Drive. “Where are we going?”

  Breathing hard enough to make his shoulder ache, he pulled the cover up to his chin, partly to mask his face and the gun he set in his lap and partly to reclaim the body heat he’d lost outside. “Turn right. Not too fast. I want to get a look at that car.”

  Nash pushed the seat all the way back and hunkered down as they passed the parked SUV. He didn’t see anyone else inside the vehicle. Possibly, they’d split up to pursue different leads to find him or Teresa. Or the man they’d spotted had been calling in backup and was scouting ahead.

  “Do you see him?” she asked, catching him looking into the sideview mirror.

  “Just getting the license plate.”

  “Texas?”

  “Local rental.”

  He heard a throaty gasp, this one far different from that dreamy little sound she’d made after he’d kissed her. “Nash? Behind us.”

  She’d turned her head to the mirror on her side of the car. Nash glanced back over the seat and sat up straight. He saw it, too. A second black SUV, pulling out of the parking lot across the street and picking up speed. Closing the gap between them.

  Forget stealth. “Get us out of here.”

  He pushed the blanket aside and loaded a bullet into the firing chamber of his gun. Teresa’s sedan picked up a little speed, heading down the winding residential street toward some lake or creek at the bottom of the hill. The driver was talking on his cell. That meant he was reporting to... Nash glanced back to the right to see the first man burst through the front door of Teresa’s building and charge straight through the snow toward their position on the street.

  The man swapped out his phone for his gun and opened fire.

  Thunk. The sedan lurched. “Oh, my God! Is he shooting at us?”

  “Faster, Peewee.” Nash spared a moment to make sure she hadn’t been hit as he rolled down his window. The guy popped off two more shots, which pinged off a parked car as they whizzed past and took out one of her taillights.

  Nash stuck his arm out the window and fired a pair of warning shots, forcing the man to dive into the snow. He pushed himself halfway out the window and twisted back to take aim at the SUV speeding up behind them. But there were too many civilian targets to risk a shot. The man with the broom. Kids building a snowman. Parked cars and too many trees messed with his line of sight.

  But the other driver had no such compunction. He pointed a weapon out the driver’s-side door and fired wildly at Teresa’s car. A lucky shot clipped the trunk, and Teresa screamed. Her car zigzagged through a patch of slush, and chips of ice flew up, biting into Nash’s face. He recoiled from the stinging assault, wrenching his shoulder.

  His luck was going from bad to worse. A block behind him, the other SUV whipped out of its parking spot and spun in a U-turn to join the chase. Nash dropped back into his seat, swearing in pain and frustration.

  They weren’t going fast enough. “Floor it!”

  He stretched his long leg out and stomped on Teresa’s foot, pushing the accelerator to go faster. They hit a bump in the road and sailed into the air for a split second before coming down hard and scraping the undercarriage against the pavement.

  “What are you doing?” Teresa bounced against the binding of her seat belt. They were passing newer houses now, fewer trees and cars. The road widened, making them easier targets.

  “Turn!”

  “At this speed?”

  Nash grabbed the wheel and jerked it to the right, keeping his foot on the gas when her instinct was to slow down. “Where’s the nearest highway?”

  “Not close.”

  They bounced across a bridge over a frozen lake and hit a roundabout intersection. Ah, hell. They were circling back toward the oncoming SUV! Teresa cursed when she saw the gun leveled at them. But the driver hit the same bump they had and lost his grip on the gun. He quickly pulled both hands back to regain control of his vehicle. But as he slowed, the second SUV picked up speed and passed him.

  Nash reached for the steering wheel again. “Get us out of this neighb
orhood!”

  “I’ve got it.” Teresa smacked his hand away and stepped on the accelerator. “I’ve got it!”

  She gripped the wheel in both fists and hunched forward. The car careened away from the roundabout, plowing through a drift and careening off the curb as she sped past a stop sign. “I know where we can lose them.”

  With oncoming cars pulling to the side and the SUVs in hot pursuit, Nash rebuckled his seat belt and braced his hand against the door as Teresa drove through a neighborhood gate and wheeled the car in a sharp right, then sped up the hill to the north. She honked the horn and flew around a slower vehicle. The two SUVs lost a little more distance when she cut through a corner convenience store lot and came out on a four-lane highway heading east, merging with heavier traffic.

  One SUV followed the same path but got stuck a few cars back. The driver darted from lane to lane, trying to get around the cars between them. The second SUV was nowhere to be seen. And by the time they’d doubled back through a massive shopping center parking lot near the intersection of two highways, they’d lost both cars following them.

  A few minutes later, they were cruising up and down the snow-covered hills of 40 Highway, matching the flow of traffic. With no sinister pursuers reflected in any mirror, Nash holstered his Smith & Wesson and leaned back against the headrest, taking note of his aching shoulder and the slightly winded cadence of his breathing. That encounter had been too close. He was clearly off his game. Yes, they’d gotten away—for now. But they’d have to ditch this damaged car that the cartel thugs could identify as Teresa’s now.

  But he’d wait and give her that bit of news after she relaxed the death grip she still had on the wheel. “That’s some sweet driving, Peewee.”

  “Thanks. That was exciting.” She glanced across the seat at him. “No. It was terrifying. My heart’s still racing. Who were those men?”

  Cradling his left arm against his side, Nash reached over the center console to capture a velvety strand of coffee-colored hair that had worked free from her ponytail and smoothed it behind her ear. “Try to stay in the moment, Teresa.” He stroked his fingers along the line of her jaw, anxious to soothe the tension there. “Don’t worry about the future or the past. Allow yourself a minute to just breathe. The crisis is over. We’re safe for now. You did great.”

  He knew she was finally coming out of fight-or-flight mode when she pulled his hand from her face and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’re favoring your shoulder again. Did you pull the stitches?” She waited until he sank back into his seat to crank up the heat. “You’re the one who should be relaxing. Pull the blanket over you.”

  “I think that was just a little too soon for that kind of exercise.” He winced at the effort of picking up the blanket from the floorboard. She wanted answers as to why her life was being turned upside down, and he needed to talk this through before fatigue turned his brain to mush. “I’m guessing with bullets flying and a high-speed chase that we’re definitely on KCPD’s radar now.”

  “Of course we are. Someone is bound to have gotten a plate number or description of the drivers. They’ll report it.”

  “They’ll have your license plate number, too. And somebody we drove past might have even recognized Teresa Rodriguez.”

  Her lips buzzed with a weary sigh. “I’m going to need a new car, aren’t I?”

  Nash laughed. “I was going to wait and spring that one on you a little later.”

  She slowed to turn onto a road that would take them to the interstate. “So what do we do next?” Teresa tapped the console between them when he asked for a pen to write down Thug One’s license plate number in his log book. “How are you going to find out who’s after you if you’re hiding? You’re not calling your boss in Houston again, are you?”

  Not directly, at any rate. Yesterday he hadn’t wanted to call in any favors. But today, with Teresa’s life as well as his own on the line, he had no choice. “Do you know a place called the Shamrock Bar?”

  She nodded. Her eyes were as glued to the mirrors as his had been, still looking for any signs of the SUVs returning. “It’s a cop bar downtown. I’ve been there several times. But you shouldn’t drink alcohol in your condition. And a drink is the last thing I want right now. Especially if I have to drive like that again.”

  “I’m not thirsty, darlin’. I just need to see the bartender there.”

  Chapter Eight

  Shivering, Teresa paused at the neon shamrock in the front window of the Shamrock Bar and gazed through the glass. Inside, the window was framed with a shiny green garland and the corners had been dusted with that fake white spray snow. She’d been here before for a couple of family gatherings, a few outings with her friends and even on a pleasant-enough date with a detective who worked with AJ. But she’d never gone in specifically looking for a man to invite out to a secret rendezvous in the parking lot.

  When she heard a car driving past on the street behind her, she peeked over her shoulder to see if one of the black SUVs from this morning had followed her. But as the blue car bounced over the ruts of grated, packed and melted snow on the pavement, she exhaled a puffy cloud of determination and pushed open the front door.

  Jake Lonergan was easy enough to spot. There were only a few customers sipping a beer at the polished walnut bar or eating a sandwich for an early dinner at one of the tables.

  Nash’s description had been simple. He’ll be the biggest thing in there.

  Teresa pulled off her gloves as the bell above the door chimed behind her. Nash was tall and carried plenty of muscle on his lanky frame. From her petite perspective, he was big. But the man setting a stack of crated glasses behind the bar was built like a Mack truck. The silver hair he wore cropped close to his scalp highlighted the scars of a tragic encounter that Nash said had cost the man a good chunk of his memory. If Nash was a wounded bear, then Jake Lonergan was a T. rex with a toothache. Even the green apron and wedding ring he wore did little to soften his beastly appearance.

  Definitely the biggest thing in the room. His unsmiling bulk made him the quintessential bouncer who commanded respect and looked as though he could easily handle any customer who dared to step out of line.

  And Nash said he was a friend?

  Teresa shuddered in nervous anticipation rather than with the cold this time. Her heart rate hadn’t been normal since those two men had chased them from her apartment and shot up her car. She needed a nap to ease the stress. She needed to talk with one of her sisters about this emotional pull she felt toward Nash and tell AJ the truth about the man she’d saved, endangered and made a desperate deal with. She needed a chance to rethink some of the choices she’d made in the past twenty-four hours.

  Her chance to walk away from Charles Nash and the nightmarish drama he’d brought to her frustratingly sheltered life was staring her right in the face. A public pay phone hung on the recessed wall between the two bathroom doors.

  While Nash pulled the tags off the sheepskin-lined coat and gloves they’d bought at a thrift shop and bundled up in the car, she could walk right over there and call 911 or AJ and tell them she’d been kidnapped by an armed stranger. That she’d hidden him in her apartment. That she’d helped him escape from the men pursuing him. That her apartment had probably been ransacked and that two men who worked for a drug cartel had tried to kill her.

  They’d tell her to stay put. They’d drop everything and run to her rescue. AJ would put a twenty out on her car and have this place swarming with cops in a matter of minutes. He’d tell the entire department that Nash was armed and dangerous—that he might have harmed his baby sister. There wasn’t a cop in the city who would stand by while the family of one of their own was in danger.

  Nash would be arrested.

  She’d be free of this nightmare.

  He’d be taken to a holding cell until he was turned over to a
DEA agent who might betray him...or a hit squad found him and finished the job they’d started the day before.

  Charles Nash had sworn her life was in as much danger as his.

  He’d promised protection in exchange for keeping his secrets and tending his wounds.

  He’d kissed her.

  Teresa’s tongue darted out to touch the rim of her lips. She could still feel him there. The ticklish rasp of his day-old beard against her skin. The firm pressure and unexpected warmth of his slightly crooked mouth molded against hers.

  Could she really be feeling something for Nash after knowing him for so short a time? Was this dangerous attraction a lusty response to being forced into the most thrilling adventure of her life? Or was she just as foolish as her brother and sisters claimed because she was so eager to be treated as a useful adult that she mistook Nash’s need for her medical assistance and knowledge of the area as some kind of emotional connection?

  Should she do this favor for Nash? Or walk over to that phone and call her family? Did she do what she thought was the right thing? Or did she do the safe thing?

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” The muscle man behind the bar was talking to her.

  Teresa snapped her attention away from her thoughts and focused on the icy-blue eyes watching her. Decision made. She inhaled a steadying breath. She was Nash’s partner, not his captive. She didn’t need to escape. She didn’t want to leave him to face his enemies on his own. She didn’t have to understand what she was feeling right now, either. She just had to do what was necessary to keep them both alive.

  Her family was going to lock her away in a tower and throw away the key. But not yet.

  Teresa threw back her hood, unzipped the top of her coat and crossed the bar to carry out her mission.

  “Mr. Lonergan?” She stepped up on the brass railing beneath the bar stools to erase a fraction of the difference between their heights and thrust her arm over the top of the bar. “I’m Teresa Rodriguez.”

  Jake eyed her hand but didn’t immediately take it. “Ms. Rodriguez. I’ve seen you around. You any relation to Detective AJ Rodriguez?”