by Jill Shalvis
But she didn’t have the words. “Just tell me what you think we’re supposed to do now.”
“We need proof of Gaines’s indiscretions. Unfortunately, my rock-solid proof ran off.”
“What?”
“Eighteen months ago I shot the leader of the Kiddie Bombers. It was dark, in a warehouse, but I got him. Tonight, wrestling with Gaines, I saw the scar. Here.” He pointed to his collarbone.
“A bullet hole? But lots of ATF agents have bullet holes.”
“Not undocumented ones. But now we have this.” He patted the rifle. “If the serial number on this baby matches one of the serial numbers on the ATF database, it’s one of the pieces of the puzzle.”
Her mind whirled. “But even if that matches—”
“Yeah, yeah, we still need to tie it to Gaines, I know.”
“If it’s him.”
“Abby—”
“Because from where I’m standing…” She jangled the cuffs. “It sure as hell could still be you.”
She waited for him to defend himself, and though a muscle bunched in his jaw, he said nothing.
“I’m not going to make this easy for you,” she told him.
Rubbing a weary hand over his face, Hawk sighed. “Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”
8
“KEEP MOVING,” HAWK DEMANDED, refusing to give in to Abby’s resistance when he was this close. They were headed toward the farmhouse and the trucks he’d seen there. His plan—get to an ATF database.
“Damn it, Hawk. Slow down.”
She was tugging again and probably going to yank them to the ground, which she’d done four times and counting. He had the bloody knees to prove it, which, considering how dead Gaines wanted him, was the least of his worries.
Jesus, he could hardly even wrap his brain around how badly the evening had gone. Logan, down. Gaines, rogue. Abby…definitely not on his side.
He wasn’t sure whose side that put her on.
“Hawk.”
He’d been trying to ignore her, but she sounded panicked and breathless. Not from running so much as hyperventilating, and while that fact brought out some sympathy, it also came with annoyance, because, for Christ’s sake, he wasn’t hurting her.
He’d never hurt her.
Too bad she wouldn’t say the same. “Nearly there.”
To her credit, she kept going, but he knew it wasn’t for him but to get to wherever he was headed and get uncuffed. He appreciated the warrior in her, more than she could know, because his shoulder blades kept itching.
Gaines was out there, armed, gunning for them.
They had to keep moving.
At the edge of the woods, he finally came to a stop. Abby stood as far away as the restraints would allow, so that the chain was pulled taut and the metal was digging into his raw skin. She had to feel it, too, but apparently she refused to even breathe in the same vicinity as him.
Good to know tonight was no different from any other.
He could see the faint outline of the farmhouse that he’d circled around to, and just behind that was a handful of cars. All ripe for the picking because, as he now knew, tonight had been nothing more than a setup.
Which meant he should be able to commandeer one of those vehicles and get them the hell out of there. Exactly where he would get them the hell to was yet to be determined, but one thing was clear—he couldn’t let himself be brought in. Not until he could prove his innocence and Gaines’s guilt.
“I think the truck is our best bet.”
Abby was breathing harshly but not fighting him, which was an unexpected bonus. She had more twigs in her hair and a nasty scratch on one cheek. Her clothes were torn and beyond dirty from wrestling on the ground with him. She’d started the day so neat, too.
Just looking at her had something inside him softening. In a different time and place, he’d have reached over and pulled her close, maybe burying his face in her hair, pressing his mouth to her skin…
But her attention was on the cuffs, as if she could remove them by glare alone. He wished she’d just let it go for now, but she was definitely not the letting go type. “Keep up, okay?”
“I have a better plan. Uncuff me.”
“I can’t.”
“Won’t, you mean.”
“Okay, won’t. You’ll turn me in before I can prove I’m right.”
“You know what? Don’t talk to me.”
Oh, good. She was definitely coming around, surrendering to his charms. “See that truck?” he asked. “We’re going for that.”
Taking that whole not-talking-to-him thing pretty seriously, she didn’t answer. But she was looking at him plenty, sending icy stares that felt like daggers. Probably trying to decide how to murder him, slowly. Resigned, Hawk pulled her toward the fifteen-year-old Ford pickup painted a combo of forest-green and bad-weather rust. He pulled open the driver’s door, which was blessedly unlocked. Putting his hands on Abby’s waist, he bent at the knees to hoist her in ahead of him.
She balked. Of course she balked, but he didn’t have time for this. Now that they were clear of the fire and the chaos, the night was quiet, too quiet, making him extremely uneasy.
“I vote we go back to the van,” she said.
He shook his head.
“I’m not getting into this truck with you.”
She was tired. Scared. He got that. But that would have to be taken care of later, say if they lived, so to that end, he pressed his body into hers, trying to get her inside the cab of the truck. Her hair jabbed him in the eyes, her ass ground into his crotch, neither of which was exactly an unpleasant sensation, but at the contact, she jerked as if shot and jumped away from him, pulling on the cuffs.
“Jesus, Abby. Just do this. Please. Just get in.”
“Uncuff me.”
“Soon as we’re out of here, I swear. I have to jump-start it.”
“Oh, God.” She hunched over, covering her face with her free hand, breathing like a lunatic.
What the hell? He touched her shoulder, and she nearly leapt out of her skin, eyes wide. Wild. Like she was no longer with him.
“Hey.” Hawk lifted his free hand and wondered what was going on. “Hey, it’s just me.”
Her hysterical laugh broke the silence. Up until right then, a part of him, admittedly a sick part, had been enjoying their close contact, the way her body fit to his, the scent of her hair, how when he’d tried to lift her into the truck, her breasts had pressed into his forearm. But this reaction from her, this genuine fear, made him feel like a molester. “I’m not going to hurt you, Abby. I swear it. Just get into the truck, and I’ll—”
“No!”
He understood her reticence, he really did, but she’d screamed this, leaving him no choice but to slide his hand over her mouth.
Of course, because this was Abby, she bit him, and then she was fighting him like a feral cat, tooth and nail. She fought dirty, too, twisting his arm but good as she whirled and tried to punch him in the throat, instead catching him high on his bruised chest, which hurt enough to have him chomping down on both his lip and his frustration. “Abby, stop. I am not the bad guy!”
She stopped fighting and brought her head up, eyes still wide but not so wild. “I swear it,” he whispered, smoothing his fingers along the curve of her jaw. He had no idea when his priorities this night had changed from kicking Gaines’s ass to seeing this woman safe, but they had. “It’s going to be okay—”
Another harsh laugh, this one a half sob, and she yanked at their joined wrists so hard his teeth grated. He began to understand something he’d missed before in the rush to survive—she definitely had something else going on here, something that the handcuffs were only making worse.
But it would have to wait, because for now he had to get out of here before he was discovered, and she was coming with him, period. To that end, Hawk bodily lifted her into the truck, taking another kick to the thigh in the process, swearing as he bent beneath the console t
o hot-wire the car.
“Hot-wire,” she gasped, still breathless from the fight, as the engine leaped to life. “Not jump.”
“Right.”
“You said jump.”
Had he? “To jump-start it, I’d have needed another car.”
“And cables.”
“Yes.” It was the way she said cables that had him trying to get a look at her face as he whipped the truck around. But she turned her head away, staring out the window into the dark night.
Exhausted, but pumped full of adrenaline, he headed down the road without lights, driving slowly enough to avoid kicking up dust, but hopefully fast enough that no one noticed them. The road was completely deserted, but he didn’t breathe freely until the main highway. There he flicked on the headlights and hit the gas. He was aware of Abby sitting stiffly, as far from him as she could get, her hand dangling limply near the steering wheel.
Saying nothing.
There weren’t many cars on the highway this late at night. Hell, there were no cars. Out here, even the wide-open spaces had wide-open spaces.
In the daylight the view had been of wildflower meadows, fall foliage and towering peaks all around them, covered in deep forests.
But at night, the sky-scratching mountains were no more than a dark looming outline, creating a feeling of vastness, which only increased his sense of isolation.
It was many moments before they saw another vehicle, and then, in the oncoming headlights, Hawk glanced over at Abby.
She hadn’t relaxed, not a single muscle. Her skin was pale, her hair wild around her face, her eyes huge and underlined with exhaustion. “Abby,” he said softly.
No answer, big surprise.
“I realize you’re pissed and probably going to castrate me at the first opportunity, but before you do, just tell me one thing.”
Her eyes cut to his.
“What happened to you?”
She closed those eyes.
And his heart sunk, because he’d gotten the answer to his next question. Whatever it’d been, it’d been bad, very bad. And it wasn’t hard to make a few educated guesses, none of which he wanted to think about her suffering through.
Abby didn’t speak, just sat there silently stewing. Steam practically rose from her clothing, which was even more ripped and dirty now and made him feel like crap because he’d done this to her.
Shooting him another sidelong glance that had his death written all over it, she hugged herself with her one free arm, took a deep breath as if steeling herself against the craziness they’d left behind and what was to come, and thrust her chin to nose-bleed heights.
While Hawk loved the show of bravado, he knew no one could maintain it for long, and when she crashed, that would be his fault, too.
When she finally spoke, it wasn’t what he expected. “You’re on empty.”
He looked at her, surprised she cared enough to notice. “I know. Believe me, I could sleep for at least a week—”
“The gas tank.”
“What?” He looked at the gauge and thought, ah, shit. Just one more thing in a long list of things that were not going his way tonight.
9
Somewhere south of Bullet City, Wyoming
WAS IT GOOD OR BAD THAT THEY found a gas station almost immediately? Abby couldn’t decide as Hawk pulled the truck off the highway and into the parking lot. From her perch in the passenger seat, she searched for an attendant, a customer, anyone she could flag down for help.
But there was not a single soul.
The handcuffs clanked as Hawk shifted, and her hand brushed his, making her breath hitch. She was so used to avoiding a man’s touch, she found herself startled by the fact that though she was still furious, she was not afraid of their close proximity.
Why was Hawk different from other men?
Didn’t matter. Slipping her free hand into her pants pocket, she closed her fingers around her cell phone. Hawk was looking at the pump, his head turned from her. Now or never, she decided…
Thumbing open the phone, Abby tried to figure out who to call, then froze as her finger inadvertently pushed a key.
At the unmistakable electronic beep, Hawk’s head whipped back to hers. “What was that?”
She shrugged.
“Goddamnit.” Pressing her back against the door, he set his hand low on her ribs.
“Hey!”
But his hand merely slid further down, brushing her hip, inching into her pocket without qualm, his fingers closing over hers. “What are you doing?”
Momentarily stunned at how intimate it felt to have his fingers in her pocket, so close to her, with his big body holding her prone against the seat, it took her a moment to answer. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t feel like nothing.”
Nope. It felt like…like he had his hand down her pants. “I’m just keeping my hand warm.” It was amazing how fast the lie rolled off her tongue.
It would have been better if she hadn’t sounded so damn breathless.
In answer, he slid his thumb over her lower lip. “Did you text someone?”
She licked her lips, the tip of her tongue accidentally touching his thumb. In response, he inhaled unevenly, and as if connected to him, her stomach quivered.
“Abby? Did you?”
“Uh…” For some odd reason, she’d lost track of the conversation.
“Did you tell anyone where we are?”
Needing him to get off her, she rocked up, managing only to bump her hips to his. He was surrounding her, holding her down, and it left her feeling confused, muddled. Instead of fighting him, as she’d figured she would, her body was doing a sort of slow-burning awareness thing, complete with hard nipples and quivering thighs. What the hell?
Hawk didn’t appear outwardly affected by their closeness at all. Instead, he kept track of the issue at hand with apparent ease.
Why couldn’t she keep track of the issue at hand?
“Did you?” he demanded, then pulled out the phone himself. When he swore, she assumed he’d located her blank text message in the sent file.
Shutting the phone, he lifted his head. Their mouths were a fraction of an inch apart, and somehow fascinated by this, she stared at his lips.
“You lied,” he said very softly.
“No.”
Honestly, she had no idea why she kept lying. He had the proof in his hand. “I—”
“Stop.” As if to insure she did just that, he covered her mouth with his.
This time, this second kiss, Abby didn’t have to brace herself. She knew what to expect, an inexplicable onslaught of hunger and desire, so compelling that a low sigh fell from her.
At the sound, he went utterly still, then slid his free hand into her hair, tightening his grip, changing the angle of the kiss to better suit him as he ran his tongue along her lower lip.
Oh, God. Two things occurred simultaneously. One, her heart skittered into near cardiac arrest, and two…a horrifyingly needy moan escaped her.
Hawk pulled back. Though his lids were heavy over his eyes so that she couldn’t get a read from them, she sensed his confusion matched hers. “I must be insane,” he whispered. “Totally and completely insane.”
Yeah, no argument there.
“Tell me again you’re not in on this whole thing,” he whispered, still holding her face. “Because if you are, you should just kill me now.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Please answer.”
Slowly she shook her head.
“Is that no, you’re not going to answer, or no—”
“No, I’m not in on this whole thing.”
He stared at her for a beat, then let out a breath as he levered himself up off her. “Okay. Okay, that’s going to have to be good enough, isn’t it? Come on, we’re getting out.”
She turned to the windshield and was shocked to find it fogged up, dripping condensation. Had they done that? Steamed up the glass with just a simple kiss? Except there’d been nothing
simple about it at all…. “We’ll freeze to death.”
“Can’t freeze to death in hell, and I’m definitely in hell.” Sitting back, he shoved his free hand through his short hair, making it stand on end. His eyes were shadowed, his lean jaw scruffy, his clothes tattered and blood-strewn. The cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding, but she guessed from his uneven breathing that he still hurt pretty good.
She should be glad. Instead, all Abby felt was a sense of uneasiness, and—truthfully?—a secret wish that he’d go back to holding her. Because for some reason, in his arms she’d felt safer than she had in a very long time.
HAWK EYED THE GAS STATION. It was quiet and badly lit. Both things worked in their favor, or so he hoped.
But it’d only been an hour since the first explosion. Gaines’s men couldn’t be far behind them. “They’ll have figured out you’re missing by now. And we know they’re looking for me.”
Nothing from the woman cuffed to him.
“We’ll have to hurry.”
She raised an eyebrow, and wordlessly offered up her wrist to be uncuffed.
He had no right to continue to hold her to him, he had nothing but a gut instinct that said he’d saved her life. The best thing now was to get her to Tibbs. Tibbs would keep her safe.
But the thought of walking away from her killed him, though he had no idea why.
Okay, he knew why. He knew exactly why. It was her eyes, mirrors to his own soul. It was the way she brought something out in him, the best part.
And having her smoking body so close to his didn’t hurt…. Clearly, kissing her had destroyed too many brain cells. “You’re going to run screaming the moment I uncuff you.”
More of her loaded nothing.
“Look, I took you with me for your own good—”
She let out a snort that managed to perfectly convey exactly how full of shit she thought he was.
“Jesus.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m a lot of things, Abby, I’ll give you that. Stubborn. Tough. Maybe even as asshole—”
She nodded in agreement, which worked wonders for his ego, it really did.
“But whatever you think of me,” he insisted. “I’m not a liar.”
