by Debra Webb
“Nah, you didn’t snore. Just moaned now and then.”
Gabrielle stilled. She hoped she hadn’t said anything related to the dream she’d had. She wasn’t sure Braddock was ready for that much information.
“Must have been dreaming,” she said offhandedly while considering whether or not she wanted to venture out into the woods to relieve herself. It was dark and if she was careful it should be safe enough.
“About me?”
The question had her wheeling back toward the sound of his far too enticing voice. She couldn’t see him at all, just comprehended where he was based on hearing his voice. Surely she hadn’t really said anything in her sleep. Humiliation stoked in her cheeks when memories from the vivid dream filtered through her mind. Braddock had been making love to her. She shivered again. From the cold, she insisted for the second time.
“Why would I dream about you?” she quipped, infusing the demand with as much you must be kidding bluster as she could marshal.
“Maybe because you said my name twice.”
A new wave of mortification washed over her. “I have to go out,” she said crisply.
“Keep to the right of the cave. Our man on the ridge is still there. He may be using night-vision binoculars now. I imagine desperation is setting in.”
Those highly specialized binoculars were incredibly expensive. “What’re a bunch of low-life body snatchers doing with technology like that?”
“I wondered the same thing. I think maybe you were right. This isn’t just about the slave trade or nabbing a couple of kids for ransom. This is way bigger than that. Some vendetta launched by a powerful enemy.”
For once Gabrielle wished she had been wrong. Well, at least the kids were safe.
“Stay crouched close to the ground and don’t go far,” he advised. “When you get back we’ll talk about what our next move should be.”
Gabrielle didn’t waste any time out in the open. She hugged the rocks as she moved around the cave entry. Kept her head below the level of the thick undergrowth, took care of necessary business as quickly as possible and then got back into that cave.
She settled on the ground near Braddock.
“Another potato? The strawberries and faux carrots are gone, I’m afraid.”
Shuddering at the thought but knowing she should eat, she took the couple of knotty little potatoes he offered and forced herself to chew.
“The next few hours will be crucial to their search,” Braddock began, speaking quietly, somberly. “The men will be gung-ho and fresh. They’ll turn this mountain upside down looking for us. Whoever finds us would be a hero. But as the night goes on they’ll grow tired. If they’re drinkers, they’ll likely booze up. By 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. there won’t be a one of them performing at their best. That’s when we’ll make our move.”
She had to give him credit. The plan was ingenuous. He’d thought the whole thing out to the finest detail. Even analyzed the enemy.
“Great plan,” she agreed, then countered, “assuming they don’t find us.” He hadn’t mentioned that scenario. Confidence was a good thing. They were well hidden. There was no reason to think they weren’t safe for the time being. And there was always a chance they could go more deeply into the cave. Now there was an idea. Who knew? The cave might be more like a tunnel and offer an exit somewhere on the other side of the mountain. “Should we move deeper into this home away from home? See where it leads?”
“If we’re lucky, they won’t cover this ground again. And no we can’t go any farther. This is it. If this cave ever went any deeper, it fell in ages ago.”
So they were either safe or trapped. Depended upon how one wanted to look at it, she supposed. Might as well be an optimist.
“When we make this move, which direction are you proposing we go in? Back toward Sloan’s?”
He considered her question a moment before responding. “We can’t risk moving back toward the village and since we don’t know what lies on the other side of these mountains, and we’re not prepared for a long haul, heading back to Sloan’s is about our only option. That’s what our friends are banking on,” he added facetiously.
“So we take the long way back,” she offered. “Go way around the expected route.”
“Exactly,” he concurred, sounding proud that she’d reached the same conclusion. “The journey will take some time and we’ll have to go at a frantic pace, but that’s our best bet. The only sticking point will be not getting caught at the outset.”
“I think we can handle it.” She did. Braddock was highly trained. She was prepared on a physical level and damn well willing otherwise. This little bump in the road had forced her to alter her plans a bit, but she wasn’t worried. Once she and Braddock were off this mountain, she would give him the slip.
That might not be so easy, the more rational side of her suggested. But there were things she could do in an effort to promote his trust. If he trusted her, he wouldn’t be watching her every second of every minute. Trust was key, she decided.
“Let’s just hope they don’t have any other advanced technology like thermal imaging.”
Gabrielle had an idea what that meant and she hoped they didn’t, as well. Otherwise there was no way she and Braddock would get out of here alive.
“So we wait some more,” she said cheerily.
“That’s it.”
She might as well put her secondary plan into action. She needed him to believe they were on the same side. Hadn’t she rescued Sloan’s kids? That fact was likely fresh on his mind. She could build on that.
“I hope Mark and Josh stay out of sight.” The statement came out earnestly and she meant it that way. She didn’t want those kids hurt. She hated that people used kids for leverage of any kind.
“If the village was the place Sloan had told them to go whenever they were in danger, then the villagers know what they’re doing. He’s too smart to set up a plan like that otherwise.”
His high opinion of Sloan made her anger flare but she kept it to herself. Sloan was no hero. He was a killer. Just like the guys scouring these mountains for them. He’d likely ticked off one or more of them, causing this whole situation in the first place.
“If we can’t go anywhere for a while, I guess we might as well do something to pass the time. So, tell me about yourself, Braddock,” she prompted, determined to move the conversation away from a man she couldn’t discuss openly without letting her real intentions show. “Why aren’t you permanently hooked up?” She estimated him to be about thirty-one or two. He was a good-looking guy. Where was the little woman in his life?
“Hooked up?”
She chewed on her lower lip, wishing now she hadn’t asked that particular question. She didn’t want to hear about how happy he was with whomever. Not that he didn’t have a right to be happy but if there was someone else then…
Then what? She couldn’t have him? Get real, Gabrielle, she railed. She couldn’t have him anyway. Upstanding, career-oriented guys like him didn’t go for ex-cons. And that’s what she was. Just poor white trash who had, rather ambitiously, lived up to society’s expectations. She’d ended up in prison instead of college.
“You know…” she said grouchingly, “who’s keeping your bed warm at night? Are you engaged? Divorced? What?”
The dead silence she got in response wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. Had she unknowingly hit a nerve? Had he been married and his wife died? She couldn’t stand the suspense.
“Never been married,” he revealed. “Never been engaged. My military career was pretty demanding. I didn’t have a lot of time for a social life.”
Surprised at his answer, she prodded further. “What about now? You’ve been at the Colby Agency what? Six months?”
She felt like smacking the heel of her hand against her forehead when she heard how she sounded. She had basically just given him the third degree. A dead giveaway. Only someone interested would ask so many questions. What was wrong with her?
“I’m new to Chicago. I guess I’ve been busy settling in.”
That was a cop-out if she’d ever heard one. He was evading the question. And now that she’d asked, she might as well have an honest answer.
She tried another tactic. “So you’re not dating anyone?”
“What about you?” With those three little words he turned the tables on her.
“Not dating anyone,” she said frankly. I’ve been too busy plotting Trevor Sloan’s assassination, she didn’t add. Her gut twisted with that disgust she’d felt building for days. She told herself it was about the man who was her target, but she’d begun to wonder if it was actually more about her.
“Why not?” Braddock asked. “You’re attractive. Smart. Young. Why aren’t you out there playing the field?”
She smiled. Moistened her lips and relished his compliments a moment. “You think I’m attractive?”
A really long pause lapsed. “You’re not blind, Gabrielle, you must know you are.” His words were chosen carefully, uttered with even more caution.
“I can say the same about you,” she returned. “Why isn’t a handsome guy like you out there on the market?”
He chuckled softly. The sound sent tiny little shivers over her skin. She hated that he could do that so effortlessly.
“Is there a hurry? Is my shelf life about to expire?”
“It’s only women who have to worry about expiration dates,” she explained impatiently. “Stop beating around the bush, Braddock, answer the question.”
“Oh, I see,” he said knowingly.
God, she’d give almost anything to be able to see his face. It was driving her absolutely crazy not to be able to use his expression and mannerisms to read what was really on his mind.
“You see what?”
“If you want to go out with me, Gabrielle, just tell me. You don’t have to interrogate me.”
Embarrassment lit her cheeks. It was a miracle she didn’t light up the cave.
“Get real, Braddock. I’m just trying to make conversation here.”
“So you’re not interested in me, socially or sexually?”
Seething, she propped her elbows on her knees and plunked her chin in her hands. “I give up, Braddock, you’re clearly socially inept. A woman can’t even carry on a decent dialog with you.”
“Gee,” he said, amusement in his tone, “it’s no wonder I haven’t been able to get a date.”
GABRIELLE didn’t have much to say after that. A.J. figured it was better that way. She’d delved into his personal life a little more deeply than he preferred. He couldn’t answer her questions without giving too much information away.
As they sat in the dark saying nothing, time dragging by, he started to feel guilty. She’d tried to be nice and chat. And what had he done? He’d been a hard-ass and had pushed her away. His reasons were valid. His motivation unquestionable. Then why the hell was he feeling guilty for doing what he’d had to do?
“Why did you give up on your appeals when you ended up in prison for someone else’s crimes?” That question had been nagging at him since he’d learned the facts about her past. If she were innocent, why hadn’t she continued to fight for her freedom?
“Have you ever been poor, Braddock?” she said, her tone sounding bitter.
“No,” he said honestly. “We weren’t rich by any means, but I never wanted for anything.” Certainly not the attention of his parents, of which Gabrielle’s childhood had sorely lacked.
“Then you don’t know how it feels to be assigned an attorney because you can’t afford one, who doesn’t care about you and has no choice but to represent you so he’s not exactly motivated to go above and beyond the call of duty.”
“He didn’t believe you were innocent?”
“He only wanted one thing,” she said flatly.
Braddock imagined that one thing was to see the case over and done with so he could get back to his real cases, the ones that paid the bigger bucks.
“To sleep with me to make up for not getting paid his usual rate.”
Fury drilled through A.J. “He coerced you into having sex with him?” The very idea made him want to kill a man he’d never even met.
“No, he didn’t,” she said pointedly. “That’s why I didn’t get an appeal.”
A.J. shook his head. Talk about a raw deal. She’d really gotten one. “You couldn’t get anyone else to help you?”
“No. People believe what they want to believe. It was easier to pin the drugs and the stolen goods on me. I guess I was just lucky I only did a year and a half of the five.”
“Your record while in prison was stellar,” he said, knowing how hard it must have been to stay out of trouble inside those walls.
“I guess it’s a good thing the parole board didn’t know about some of the stuff that actually went on,” she said dismissively.
A.J. had heard tales of what went on in prisons, civilian as well as military. Sometimes even good men and women made mistakes, did bad things.
“You don’t have to let the past mold your future, Gabrielle.” She had tremendous potential as an investigator. What she’d done for those children spoke volumes about her ability to feel compassion for others.
“Easy for you to say, Mr. Ex-Marine. You haven’t been where I’ve been.”
“That’s true,” he admitted. “But you’re allowing the past to prevent you from having a future.”
“You think he’ll kill me.”
A.J.’s chest constricted as the words echoed through him. Yes, that was exactly what he thought. But did he tell her that and antagonize her?
“I think he will do whatever necessary to protect his family.”
“I don’t want to harm his family,” she challenged. “Only him.”
“You don’t think losing their father will harm those two boys you helped rescue from the clutches of those bastards out there hunting us right now?” His own fury stirred. Couldn’t she see that her thinking was skewed?
“He took my father away from me.” The emotion she felt was tangible.
“Gabrielle, your father took himself away from you long before Sloan killed him. He was never there for you, am I right? He wasn’t there for your mother. You didn’t even know him.”
“Sloan didn’t give me the chance,” she snarled. “My father had to live the way he did to stay alive.”
A.J. sighed. How did he explain to her the way it really was with Gabriel DiCassi? Her mother had fed her a fantasy, apparently, from birth.
“Gabriel DiCassi was an assassin,” he stated, not about to pretend on that score. “He wasn’t the man you were led to believe he was.”
She lunged to her feet. He didn’t exactly see it but he felt the movement. He got up himself, just in case her temper got out of control and she attempted to do something stupid like stomp out of the cave.
“You don’t know anything about my father. So don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t feel.”
“You’re a smart lady, Gabrielle. Do your research. He was a killer. A cold-blooded killer who got paid well for his evil deeds. That’s why he was called Angel. That was short for Angel of Death.”
“That’s a lie.”
She was closer now. Standing toe-to-toe with him.
“No, it’s the truth. Trevor Sloan almost stopped him several years ago when he assassinated a number of business men in Chicago. No one had ever gotten that close to Angel before. Rather than kill Sloan to get him out of his way, Angel did something far worse to get him off his back.”
“I don’t believe anything you say.”
He wanted to touch her. To somehow make her believe his words and, at the same time, to comfort her for what that bastard had done to her.
“He killed Sloan’s wife and took his son. At first—” A.J. concentrated hard to recall every detail Victoria had told him “—the authorities thought the child had been murdered, as well. But
no body was ever found so no one could be certain. Sloan had to live with that for years. The reality almost drove him crazy. But then he later learned that his son was alive. Angel had given the child to his sister who couldn’t have any of her own. That child’s name is Mark.”
Shock radiated through Gabrielle. Tears burned behind her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Why would I? Next time you see Mark, ask him. He has no reason to lie to you.”
“Why is Josh with Sloan?” she demanded, a part of her needing to move beyond Mark and the idea that he’d been taken from his family. “I know he’s not Sloan’s child.” He was her father’s child. Gabrielle was certain of that.
“You’re right,” Braddock said, to her surprise. “Josh is Angel’s son. He’s your half-brother.”
“Why is he with Sloan?” She couldn’t be sure if what Braddock told her was the truth but there was always the chance he would be straight up with her. Only she couldn’t let him see the impact his words, true or false, had on her.
“Rachel, Sloan’s wife, went to the Colby Agency five years ago. She was desperate. Angel wanted to kill her and take the boy. She wasn’t afraid to die, but she knew who and what Angel was—he’d murdered her father, used her to get to him. That’s how she ended up pregnant with Josh. Rachel would have done anything to protect Josh from Angel. Victoria sent her to Sloan, the one man on the planet who knew anything at all about Angel.”
“And he killed him,” Gabrielle interjected, her voice tight with emotion.
“That’s not exactly true,” he said cautiously.
Her instincts stood at attention. “What’re you talking about?” It was Sloan who killed her father. She knew that. It had happened at his home.
“There was a woman, Angel’s lover-sometimes-partner named Tanya. She’s the one who killed your father. Her name was kept out of the press because she turned States’ evidence. Her testimony helped to connect Angel to numerous unsolved assassinations.”
