Grave Secrets_A Manhunters Novel

by Skye Jordan

  Warmth blossomed low in her belly. She hadn’t had anyone but Misty give a shit about her in so long, the gratitude filled her until her chest tightened with it.

  Her phone chimed with a return text. We’re great. Don’t worry. Focus on your hottie.

  Savannah breathed a little easier. She knew Misty would die protecting Jamison; she just didn’t want it to come to that. And after seeing Hank draw his weapon on Ian, she was grateful Misty had weapons and knew how to use them.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  Savannah released a long breath. “Yeah. They’re fine.”

  She looked out the passenger’s window into the darkness for a long moment. A sense of vulnerability washed over her. A sensation that was far too familiar.

  “Hey,” Ian said, his voice soft as he patted the seat beside him. “Come here.”

  She unbuckled her seat belt and slid to the center of the seat again. A smile tipped his mouth and relaxed his features. He lifted his arm, and she slid into place beneath it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His muscled arm pulled her close and gave her a squeeze, and the whole atmosphere in the truck eased.

  “Everything’s okay,” he said. “We’ll figure this out. It won’t be like this forever.”

  She angled toward him and curled her fingers into his shirt. With her head on his chest, she murmured, “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time someone stuck up for me.” She exhaled. “But can we not do that again? I about had a heart attack.”

  He kissed her head. “He would never have gotten off a shot.”

  She wasn’t sure what that meant or how Ian would have stopped it from happening, but that didn’t matter. She just never wanted to be in that situation again. Though considering all the steps they’d taken to make sure they got out of the house undetected, yet still had been caught, Savannah couldn’t see a way out other than cutting herself off from the only man who’d ever stood up to Hank.

  “I can hear the gears turning in your head,” he told her. “Talk to me.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “How did he know where we were going? I didn’t tell anyone but Misty. And we didn’t talk about it on the phone.”

  Ian didn’t answer immediately. The silence felt heavy, like a weight on Savannah’s shoulders.

  “I’ll check the house when we get back,” Ian said.

  “Check it for what?”

  “Bugs.”

  She glanced up at him. “Bugs?”

  A little grin flashed over his mouth but disappeared before she could appreciate it. “The listening kind, not the crawly kind.”

  Her mouth dropped open—first to reject the idea, then to question, and finally, “Oh shit” popped out.

  She scoured her mind for everything she’d said and done over the past few months. Repeated, “Oh, shit” and dropped her head into her hands, covering her face.

  He squeezed her shoulders. “Try not to worry. What’s done is done. How you move forward knowing, that’s in your court now.”

  She felt the walls closing in on her again. The way they always did whenever Hank took aggressive action against her—like filing for sole custody of their son.

  She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t stand the stress. The fear. She wanted out. “Do you know how I could get one of those false passports?”

  His gaze jumped to hers. “What?”

  “Okay, maybe not a passport. Maybe a birth certificate? Something that I could use to create a new identity?”

  “That’s…drastic.”

  “Believe me, I’ve tried everything else.” A little bubble of panic inflated in her gut. “And he’s filed for custody of Jamison.”

  “What?” Ian’s caustic laugh filled the cab. “That’s a fucking joke.”

  “Judges in this county won’t think so.”

  “Let’s take this one step at a time. You’ve got a good start with those passports you grabbed. And I know you’re stealthy about recording interactions with him and his deputies. Now I know you’ve got pictures. We need to sit down and put everything you have together.”

  She snuggled closer and lifted her lips to his jaw. Having his arm holding her close, his warmth surrounding her, made her feel positively giddy, despite the bullshit Hank continued to pull. And, God, he smelled so good, all clean and citrusy fresh. The stubble on his jaw felt foreign but exciting against her lips. She kissed him again. Moved lower, kissed him again. Lower, kissing his neck.

  A deep growl sounded in his throat, and he held her tighter. “Baby…”

  Warmth tingled through her chest. After so long without any male attention, the endearment felt good on her heart. And his hard body felt amazing against hers.

  She kissed him just below his ear, then took the lobe between her lips and sucked.

  Another sound rolled through his throat. “Savannah.”

  His voice was rough with desire and warning, and her body flared to fiery life. She felt safe and wanted, allowing her to take a chance.

  She slid her hand across his belly and around his side. Bent one knee and laid it over his thigh. Pressed her face against his neck and opened her mouth over his skin, tasting with her tongue.

  “Jesus Christ,” he rasped. “I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Mmm,” she hummed against his skin. “You taste good.”

  It had been so damn long since she’d been this close to a man. Since she’d even wanted to be close to a man. She was aching by the time he pulled the truck into the alley behind their duplex.

  He parked behind his unit, shut down the engine, then twisted toward her. He tightened his arm around her and cupped her face with his other hand.

  Instead of kissing her the way she wanted and expected, he just stared at her, scanning her face, his gaze lingering on her mouth. “I’m going to check the house.”

  He combed her hair off her face and kissed her, just a firm press of his lips. But that wasn’t enough for Savannah. She desperately needed an escape. She slid her tongue along his lower lip. Ian responded immediately, meeting her tongue and groaning into her mouth.

  Then he abruptly pulled out of the kiss, leaving Savannah dizzy.

  “Hold that thought,” he said.

  He rounded the truck and helped Savannah from the car. On the walk to the back door of her duplex, he pulled out his phone and tapped into an app. An image of a dial filled the screen. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned close. “This will detect the magnetic fields used by audio and video surveillance units. Don’t talk until I tell you it’s safe.”

  Nerves tingled to the surface again, smothering the sexual need he’d rekindled.

  He let her unlock the back door, then wrapped her hand in his and entered the house first, pulling her close behind him. It felt strange to return to a house with the lights on and the television playing.

  Once the back door was closed, he paused and lifted his phone, scanning the room in a slow circle. The pointer that lay on one side of the circle labeled zero bounced a tiny bit.

  After scanning the room, he met her gaze and shook his head, indicating there were no bugs. A little tension leaked from Savannah’s shoulders. On one hand, she really hoped Ian was wrong. She loathed the idea that Hank had been listening to, or worse, watching her. On the other hand, it would explain how he was always one step ahead of her and give her more control over what he heard and didn’t hear.

  Ian let go of her hand and continued into the kitchen. His phone made a static sound, the pitch changing as he moved the phone over various surfaces.

  Savannah crossed her arms and stepped into the kitchen, seeing the space with new eyes. Nervous eyes. She rubbed a hand over her face, turned, and wandered into the living room. She stood in front of the window, looking out at the black night and the cruiser parked across the street, waffling between fury and hopelessness.

  She worried the edge of her sweater between her fingers as Ian made his way through the living room
and hallway.

  He’d gone through the entire house in minutes. Minutes that felt like lifetimes to Savannah. When he came up behind her and put a hand on her back, she jumped.

  “Sorry,” he whispered at her ear. “Let’s talk outside.”

  She turned, and Ian took her hand in his again, drawing her from the house out the back door. The cold, quiet night closed in. Ian wrapped his arms around her, taking the brunt of the cold and lending his body heat to keep her from shivering.

  “I found one audio-video surveillance unit,” he told her.

  “Video?” Her stomach clenched as his mind raced back in time, trying to remember everything she’d said or done that could have alerted Hank to her plans. “Where?”

  “The hallway. The camera is a micro CCTV unit pointed toward the living room. Even with a one-hundred-eighty-degree view, it only monitors the living room and the hallway. Because of the floorplan, the bedrooms, kitchen and laundry room are video-free zones.”

  She exhaled, relieved Hank couldn’t see inside her bedroom, grateful he hadn’t found her escape hatch out the back. “Still, that’s sick. What about the audio? How good is it?”

  “Hard to tell. Most units like that are designed to monitor one room well. But since the house is small, I’d guess it could pick up most conversations at a normal volume. The farther from the unit, the more degraded the quality.”

  “Shit.” She buried her face against his chest.

  “It’s not always on. It’s remotely controlled by calling in and activating it.”

  “I don’t care.” She looked up at him. “I want it out.”

  He stroked her back with one hand, her hair with the other. “If we take it out, he’ll know we found it, and that would only make him increase security on the house. You don’t want that. Besides, his illegal surveillance might be something you could use in court against him.”

  She exhaled and closed her eyes, wishing she could force all this ugliness away. “I can’t live like this.”

  “Why don’t you get some things and stay at my place tonight? I’ll take the sofa. We can talk out a plan.”

  His suggestion added a whole new and confusing element to this mess. She didn’t want to drag him into a problem that wasn’t his. But she found herself grabbing hold of a lifeline no one else had offered.

  She nodded and turned toward the house. But Ian turned her back.

  “Just do what you always do. Act like you’re getting ready for bed. You need to make sure whoever’s watching thinks I’m out of the picture and you’ve returned to your normal habits.”

  “Then how—”

  “After you turn out the lights, get into bed. Move your pillows around to make it look like you’re there. Wait ten minutes, then slide out and stay as quiet as possible as you leave. My back door will be open.”

  Her stomach jumped. “God, this is crazy.”

  He tipped her head back and smiled. “Just think of it as sneaking out of your house as a teenager to meet your boyfriend.”

  That made her laugh. Savannah had never had that opportunity.

  Ian kissed her forehead, opened the back door for her, and said, “See you soon.”

  9

  Ian paced his kitchen with his phone to his ear. He kept glancing out the window of the back door for signs of Savannah.

  “She’s freaked out,” Ian told Roman. Sam and Liam were also on the line. “Reasonable, considering.”

  “If she kept pictures of the abuse,” Liam said, “you can bet she’s got more ammunition tucked away.”

  “Sam,” Ian said, “what have you gotten off her VPN?”

  “Some Amazon shopping—can’t believe they deliver to that frozen hole—nothing of particular interest,” Sam said. “And a lot of Google searches. How to disappear without a trace is a popular theme. As is psychobabble about boys growing up without fathers and post-traumatic stress disorder related to abuse and control.”

  Ian closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and rubbed a hand over his face. He hated—hated—the idea of Savannah struggling through this alone, with the internet as her only source of information about a very complicated and risky endeavor.

  “Bishop is out of control,” Ian said. “And since I came on the scene, he’s escalating.”

  “If she gives you something solid on Bishop,” Roman said. “She won’t even need to go into witness protection, because the bastard will be in jail. Mine her.”

  Ian didn’t like the sound of that last comment. He found himself falling into the same category as Hank—manipulating, lying, and spying. He’d much rather be dropped in the middle of nowhere to trek a hundred miles in the desert heat and take out his target with a double tap from a distance. But if taking out Bishop could help Savannah get out of this situation and create a new life, he’d just have to deal with it.

  Shadows moved outside. “I’ve gotta go.”

  Ian signed off and opened the door for Savannah. She’d changed into sweats and was huddled beneath a parka, her cheeks bright pink against a pale face and big, scared eyes. Her arms were crossed over a file folder held against her chest.

  He shoved his phone into his pocket as she stepped inside. “Are you okay? You look a little—”

  “Who was that?”

  He closed the door at her back. “The friend I sent the passport photos to.”

  Hope sparked in her eyes. “Did he find out anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her breath whooshed out. “I brought the papers, but I’ve been thinking about this.” She started pacing. With her arms crossed, holding the evidence Ian desperately needed tight against her chest, she didn’t look like she planned on staying. “You’ve been so great. Amazing, really. To help me, a stranger, with all my stupid problems—”

  “Savannah—”

  “But I need to step in and stop you. This has gotten way out of hand. This isn’t your fight, and I’m not going to drag you down.”

  “You’re not—”

  “I swear Hank slips closer to the edge every day.”

  “Listen—”

  “After tonight, I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore, and I’m not going to let you—”

  He took her face between his palms and silenced her with his mouth. She covered one of his hands with hers but didn’t pull away. When she sighed, he tilted his head and kissed her again, deeper. Her lips relaxed, and she kissed him back. Her fingers curled into his shirt. Her body eased against his. Before he knew it, his hands had slipped into her hair, his tongue into her mouth. She tasted so sweet, so honest.

  He forced himself to pull away. But when he looked down into her heavy-lidded eyes, his heart squeezed. Ian was definitely getting in too deep.

  Still, he had a job to do, and staying close to her was a significant part of getting that job done. He just had a very fine line to walk.

  “Pushing me away isn’t going to keep either of us safe,” he told her. “Only closing ranks will do that.”

  Concern crept into her gaze. She lowered her head, pressed her forehead against his chest, and heaved a troubled sigh. Her warm breath penetrated his shirt and sent tingles over his skin. If he didn’t move away from her now, he was going to take this too far.

  He released her and turned toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? It’s almost eight already. I can’t compete with Smoke, but I could make you…”

  He opened his fridge and surveyed the contents—which didn’t take long. He had beer, milk, bread, and peanut butter.

  Savannah came up behind him, set the file on the counter and slid her arms around his waist, pressing the front of her body to the back of his. She was warm and soft, and Ian breathed a moan as he slid his hand over her arm. “Sorry, baby, I don’t have much. All I can offer is a peanut butter sandwich.”

  She laughed with her cheek pressed to his back. “Jamison would be thrilled.”

  He closed the fridge and stroked her arms at his waist. “Want to try another restaurant closer
to home?”

  “No,” she said on a sigh. “I’ve got exactly what I want right here.”

  Ian closed his eyes and searched for strength. For the will to send her to his bed—alone. He hadn’t quite found it before she released him, moved to the counter, and lifted her butt to the edge beside the file folder. They still weren’t eye to eye, but she spread her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him into her. She locked her arms behind his neck, and Ian rested his forehead against hers, his hands gripping and releasing her waist.

  “You’re amazing,” he said. “You know that?”

  She huffed a laugh. “Pathetic is more like it.”

  He shook his head and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Problems don’t make you pathetic. They either break you or strengthen you. And you’re one of the strongest women I know.”

  “Thank you.” She searched his face, her expression open and curious. Her hands stroked down the front of his thermal, and her touch tingled over his skin. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to talk to a person who’s not under Hank’s control.”

  Ian was seeing a whole lot of gray in this situation. All the black and white from his military days was gone, blending so seamlessly, the line of right and wrong disappeared. He knew what he’d been told to do. He knew what he wanted. Those, at least, meshed—get close to her, get her to confide in him. But there was another gray area that Ian could see becoming a problem as this mission came to an end. He’d lied to her, surveilled her, used her to get information on Hank.

  He was thinking about all that when Savannah tilted her head and kissed him. God, her lips were sweet. Soft. Supple. Maybe getting one long, deep taste of her would quench his thirst temporarily. Maybe showing her some rough passion would give her second thoughts about crossing that line between friends and lovers.