by LENA DIAZ,
Her brusque manner didn’t fool him. He could tell that she’d been worried, and had obviously worked hard to save his life. Her actions amazed him considering the fact that they’d been bitter enemies such a short time ago. What were they now? Temporary allies? Whatever they were, he was certain he owed her more than he could ever repay.
“You have better things to do, huh?” he teased.
“Tons.”
“Like what?”
“Lots of things.” She absently toyed with the edge of the sheet, making his breath catch. “Maybe a Netflix marathon. I’m ridiculously behind on The Walking Dead. I need to find out if Darryl’s still in the land of the living.”
“Want me to tell you?”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare.”
He laughed at her outraged expression. Then, ever so slowly, he slid his hand through her silky hair to the back of her neck.
“Kade? What are you doing?”
“I could say that I’m thanking you for saving my life.” He rubbed his fingers against her skin, reveling in the shudder of awareness that swept through her. “But really, I just can’t resist having you in my bed without finally seeing how you taste.”
Before she could think too hard or put up a wall between them, he pulled her down and pressed his lips to hers. She was just as sweet as he knew she would be, and smelled so damn good that he wanted to keep her there forever, trapped in his embrace. But they barely knew each other, and there were a million reasons why this was an incredibly bad idea. So he kept the kiss achingly short.
She stared wide-eyed at him when he let her go. Her hands had fallen to his shoulders and were still clutching him, as if she didn’t know whether to pull him close, or shove him away.
“Thank you,” he said.
She looked a little dazed, which had him wanting to smile. But he didn’t dare.
She cleared her throat. “For what, exactly?”
“For saving my life, of course.” This time he did smile. “And for not punching me when I kissed you.”
“Oh. Well. Okay then.” Her fingers flexed against his shoulders. “Sounds like you’re thanking me for two things, though.” Her gaze dropped to his lips. “But you only gave me one kiss.”
He couldn’t have resisted that invitation if a whole army of mercenaries was breaking down their door. He speared his hands through her glorious hair again and pulled her close, until their lips were just inches apart.
“Thank you,” he whispered. And then he kissed her the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d first looked into those incredible green eyes, and had felt her curvy little body beneath his.
The kiss was hot and wet and went from zero to sixty in the space of a breath. The mattress dipped as Bailey climbed up beside him, pressing her body tightly against his. Their tongues tangled together in a wild, wicked dance that sent his pulse rushing in his ears and had him hard and aching and wanting more, so much more. By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath and his head was spinning.
Actually, the room was spinning.
He groaned and fell back against the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut to fight back a wave of nausea.
“Seriously?” She demanded, swatting his shoulder. “I kiss you and it makes you sick? Un-freaking-believable.” The mattress dipped again as she climbed off the bed.
He risked opening one eye and grabbed her wrist before she could get away.
She jerked her arm. “Let me go.”
“Wait, please, don’t leave.” His stomach clenched. He closed both eyes, drew a deep breath, then another. “I’m sorry, Bailey. That kiss was incredible. You’re incredible. I just . . . need a minute. The room moves every time I open my eyes. Just . . . wait, okay?”
She bent his finger backward.
“Ouch.” He swore and let her go.
Her footsteps echoed on the floor as she strode out of the room. Damn, he’d sure screwed that up. He tried to sit up, to go after her. His stomach lurched and he fell back against the pillows, groaning.
Footsteps sounded from the other room. She’d probably grabbed her gun, to pay him back for insulting her.
A heavy sigh sounded from beside the bed. “Come on, G-man. Drink.” A straw was pressed against his lips. “You’re probably dehydrated. That’s why you’re nauseated. I tried to get you to sip fluids earlier but I gave up after half drowning you a couple of times.”
He greedily drank the entire glass.
“Better?” she asked.
“Getting there. Thanks.”
A thump told him she’d set the glass down on the bedside table. “If you keep thanking me all the time you’ll ruin my badass reputation.”
“I’ll be extremely careful not to thank you in public.”
“Damn straight.” She adjusted the sheet, pulling it up higher on his chest.
He thought she’d leave then. But she didn’t. She sat with him until the nausea settled down, until he’d taken the pain pills she brought him. And until he’d assured her half a dozen times that he was fine.
After extracting his promise to eat if she made some soup, she finally left. A few minutes later, after some wobbly first attempts, he’d wrapped a sheet around his hips and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
Once he was clean and had downed an entire bowl of tomato soup, he felt human again. He sat propped up with some pillows against the headboard while Bailey sat cross-legged beside him.
“How did you manage to get me from the bathroom floor onto the bed after I’d passed out?” he asked. “You’re probably a hundred pounds soaking wet. I’m twice that.”
She rolled her eyes and flexed her impressive biceps. “I’m not a hundred pounds. And don’t you dare ask me what I really weigh.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She smiled. “It wasn’t as hard as you think. Once I got the bleeding under control, I rolled you onto a sheet and dragged you into the hallway. I figured I’d sew you up there where I had more room to work. But you woke up just enough that I was able to badger you into getting to your feet and climbing into bed, with some help of course. After that—” she shrugged “—it was a matter of cutting off your clothes and sewing you up.”
She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “And bathing you of course. Didn’t want to risk infection. It was a chore, but someone had to do it.”
He coughed and cleared his throat. The thought of her sliding a wet washcloth over his skin had all kinds of erotic thoughts flashing through his mind.
“Your leg hurts again?” she asked.
He frowned, then realized he was massaging his bad leg. He forced his hand to his side. “Habit. I’m fine.” At her disbelieving look, he said, “Really. It doesn’t hurt. Much.” He cocked his head, studying her. “If you’re not careful, Bailey, I’ll think you’re starting to like me.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I could never like a Fed. It’s just lust, pure and simple. If you didn’t have a hole in your side, I’d be all over you.”
He grinned. “Now you’re just being cruel.”
The teasing look on her face disappeared as she leaned forward. For a moment, he thought she might kiss him. But then her hand pressed on top of his, which was once again massaging his thigh. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it.
“Will you tell me what happened?” she asked, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room.
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. She wanted to know what had happened to his leg. His first instinct was to tell her no. It sure as hell wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. But this was Bailey. The two of them had been through crisis after crisis together, cramming a lifetime of death-defying experiences into a few short days. He probably knew her better than he knew anyone, and yet, he didn’t feel that he knew her at all. Still, she’d shared part of her past with him, shared her painful memories about the tragic loss of her parents. How could he refuse to do the same?
His words fell haltingly at first,
as he tried to describe that horrible night.
The dark, twisting road. Tires squealing around a curve, headlights flashing in his side mirror. The other driver’s soulless eyes—taunting, mocking Kade’s desperate attempt to outdrive him, to escape.
Gunshots, a hail of broken glass, the poker-hot burn of a bullet ripping through the driver’s door, shattering Kade’s hip, burying itself in the muscles of his thigh.
Abby’s screams of terror from the passenger seat, turning into shouts of warning. The century-old oak tree rushing to meet them. Kade, desperately turning the wheel. Too late. Too late. Metal crunching, popping, crushing.
Dear God. How could she even still be alive?
Laughter from the other man as he drove away, leaving Kade trapped and unable to help his new bride as she died a horrible, brutal death.
“Oh, Kade.” Bailey clasped his hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have asked you to share something so painful, so personal.”
He entwined his fingers with hers. “That’s just it. It’s painful, yes, but personal?” He scrubbed the stubble on his jaw with his free hand. “It should be. Abby . . . she was my wife. And it tears me apart that she died such a horrible death, that I couldn’t protect her. And yet, it almost feels like it happened to someone else. It’s as if I’m watching a movie in my head, and the script has all these holes in it. I have so many questions and so many gaps in my memory that none of it feels real.”
He squeezed her hand. “This, this feels real. More real than any of my memories of Abby. How is that possible? What kind of man marries someone and watches her die right in front of him and can barely remember what she looked like? And how the hell can I want you so damn much when it hasn’t even been a year since Abby died? I’m a sick bastard, that’s all there is to it.”
He tugged his hand but she held on, refusing to let go.
“Stop it. Stop blaming yourself for what you feel, or what you can or can’t remember. As badly as you were hurt, you probably suffered a concussion at the least, maybe something far worse. You can’t be expected to have a clear memory after something like that.”
He didn’t bother telling her that he’d been in a coma, or that he’d had a severe concussion that had him seeing double for weeks. Or that it had taken months of therapy just so he could walk again. And that he didn’t know, even now, if he’d ever be able to walk without pain. He told her none of those things, because he didn’t want her sympathy. He wanted her. And as she continued to berate him for feeling guilty about his late wife, his desire for her deepened even more.
This beautiful, courageous woman with her flashing green eyes and fiery temper was everything he wanted, but exactly what he couldn’t have. She was an assassin, a murderer. He’d spent his entire adult life fighting to put people like her in prison. What he felt for her was wrong on so many levels. It made absolutely no sense.
And he didn’t have a clue what he was going to do about it.
She gave him a sad smile, as if she understood the battle he was waging in his mind.
Maybe she did.
He checked his watch, before remembering he wasn’t wearing it. “How long have we been here? Four hours? Five? We should probably get going, before someone figures out where we are.”
Her eyes widened. “Try closer to forty-eight, give or take a couple of hours. It’s about one in the afternoon. On Monday.”
He stared at her in shock, then swore and flipped back the sheet. He’d put boxers on after his shower, so at least he wasn’t completely naked this time.
“What are you doing?” She jumped off the bed and ran to the other side just as he’d gained his feet. “You should save your strength, try to sleep.”
“We have to leave.” He turned, saw their go bags on a dresser and started toward them. His leg wobbled and he had to catch himself against the foot of the bed.
She grabbed his arm, steadying him. “See. Told you. You shouldn’t be walking.”
“Where’s my brace?”
“In the bag, but—”
She let out a muffled curse when he rushed to the bag and yanked out the brace.
“Damn it, Kade. You’re going to rip out my stitches. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t want to sew you up again. Lie back down.”
“We’re leaving.” He snapped the brace on his thigh, hating the necessity of wearing it but grateful for the stability it gave him. He reached for his shirt and she was immediately helping him pull it over his head, and swearing at him the whole time.
He reached for a clean pair of jeans but she yanked them out of his reach.
“You’re not getting these until you tell me what’s going on.”
He turned to face her. “We have to get out of here. I had no idea I’d been out for as long as I was.”
“Have you forgotten this isn’t my house? Your men won’t know to look for us here.”
He grabbed the jeans and yanked them out of her hand.
“Kade, damn it.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
He sighed, his shoes dangling from his fingers.
“I’ve gone off the grid, Bailey. By now, even if Porter hasn’t told anyone about what happened at the hospital, I’m officially missing in action. The last Simmons knew of my whereabouts, I was on my way to find Hawke, with some woman. Remember you spoke to him? How long do you think it will take for him to piece things together and figure out that it’s you that I was with?”
She bit her lip, looking less sure of herself now.
“My men will either think I’ve turned traitor and am working with the Enforcers,” he continued, “or they’ll think I’ve been taken prisoner. Either way, by now they’ve got several teams scouring the city looking for me, and you. Whether Simmons is involved or he just screwed up with Hawke, I don’t know. But he’ll share all the intel he has on Hawke and they’ll dig farther, see if there are any connections to you since you were in the same town and—”
“Sooner or later they’ll find something to lead them to this place. Hawke was over here often enough. He may have the address in an appointment book or a calendar, with my name beside it. Which means, this place isn’t safe anymore.”
“Agreed.”
She snatched his shoes and shoved him out of the way while she rummaged in his go bag.
“What are you—”
“Looking for your socks,” she snapped.
He reached in and pulled out a pair.
She grabbed them and pointed to the bed. “Sit. Hurry up.”
He plopped onto the bed and Bailey knelt in front of him, making quick work of putting his socks and shoes on him.
Less than a minute later, they were both dressed and ready, with pistols holstered at their waists.
She started to grab both the go bags but he yanked them out of her reach and strapped them over his shoulder.
“Don’t even try to argue,” he warned.
She rolled her eyes and headed into the hall, stopping only to grab some towels from the linen closet. When they got to the car, he understood why. She arranged them over the passenger seat to cover the blood.
Kade would have preferred to drive, but didn’t bother arguing. He could totally see her accusing him of being a chauvinist because he thought the man should drive. In that respect, she’d be right. But even though he felt surprisingly well for having been shot just a few days ago, he wasn’t a hundred percent and didn’t force the issue.
Ten minutes down the road, she pulled to the shoulder. “Okay, I haven’t noticed anyone following us. I think we got out of the house before they figured out where we were. What do we do now? I’m fresh out of hiding places.”
“There’s only one place I can think of that they wouldn’t expect either of us to go.”
“Where?”
“Boulder. We’re going to EXIT Inc.’s headquarters.”
Chapter Fourteen
Monday,
3:53 p.m.
Bailey parked in front of the building in the slot marked CEO because, why not? There was no CEO of EXIT Incorporated anymore. Cyprian Cardenas had died many months ago in an altercation with the so-called Equalizers. And judging by the abandoned look of the place, no one else had been here in quite some time.
Last fall’s leaves were scattered around in dried clumps. Weeds choked what had once been elaborate landscaping near the building and in medians spaced between the parking lot aisles. Cardenas had been a hard taskmaster, with meticulous high standards. Seeing the place this run-down was shocking, and final proof that EXIT’s reign was well and truly over.
“Kind of reminds me of that abandoned hotel in The Shining.” She looked through the Mustang’s windshield at the imposing structure. “I half expect some evil twins to wave at me from one of the windows.” She shook her head. “They’ve really let the place go.”
“Nobody works here anymore,” Kade said. “And there’s no point in keeping up the landscaping when the building’s going to be razed. There are just a few more loose ends to tie up and then the construction crews will be out here.”
“Razed? Seems like a huge waste to just tear the place down. But then, it’s probably hard to find another business who’d want to locate so far out of town. It’s quite the drive out here.”
“I think it’s more a case of the government wanting to eradicate any sign that EXIT ever existed.” He popped his door open and grabbed their bags of supplies from the backseat.
“Hey, at least let me carry one of those. Your leg—”
“Is fine and I’m not letting you carry these when I’m perfectly capable.”
She shook her head and they both got out of the car. While he secured the duffel bag straps over his shoulders, she said, “You’re stubborn and ridiculous, you know. I can carry my own go bag.”
“Is that the worst you’ve got? That badass reputation isn’t looking so badass right now,” he teased, as they headed toward the building.
She let loose with a string of curses.
