“Ready, baby?”
With a last glance around the room, she yanked the chair away from the door and pulled the duffel over her shoulder. Alex scrambled from the bed, his bag of toys in one hand. He placed his other in hers. She opened the door.
Frigid air hit her. Bitter wind stung her cheeks and stole her breath. Heavy, dark clouds hung low in the sky. A winter storm was brewing. Nicky’s stomach sank. Just what we need.
Her eyes slid shut momentarily, then she shrugged a shoulder, readjusting the strap of her duffel. Storm or not, they couldn’t afford to delay. She stepped onto the sidewalk—and stopped in her tracks. One step was all she needed to spot the dark figure leaning against the hood of the Taurus. Her shoulders slumped on a defeated sigh. Alex’s fingers tightened around hers.
She squeezed his hand and met McLean’s angry gaze. “Did you get him?”
A nerve twitched along McLean’s jaw. “Not yet. I left a team sitting on the cabin. When he shows up, they’ll be waiting.”
“If he shows up.” Nicky shook her head. “How did you find us so fast?”
“It’s what I do.” Pushing away from the car, he joined them on the sidewalk.
She stepped back and darted a glance to her right then left. Tim stood several feet away.
“Don’t try it.”
If she thought she could manage an escape, McLean’s furiously growled warning wouldn’t stop her, but making a run for it was out of the question, at least for the moment. They were well and truly caught. She didn’t bother responding.
“What did you do with the phone I gave you?”
Nicky lifted her chin defiantly. “I threw it away.”
From the way his jaw clenched, she was surprised his teeth didn’t explode under the pressure. He pointed a finger at the doorway behind them. She spun around and pulled a wide-eyed Alex back inside. McLean followed, shut the door, and flipped the switch. The room flooded with light.
She dropped the duffel on the closest bed and turned. “Well?”
“That isn’t a conversation we want to be having right now.” His gaze darted to Alex. “How’s it going, sport?”
“Good.” Alex squeezed her hand in a death grip and peeked up at her. Nicky hated the sudden wariness in his voice and the confusion in his eyes.
McLean glanced around. “This looks like a really nice room.” He smiled at Alex. “Are those beds comfortable?”
Alex nodded and his hand relaxed in hers at McLean’s easy tone. Alex pointed at the bed nearest the bathroom. “That one’s mine.”
“Oh, yeah? I guess I’ll sleep in the other one then.”
Alex blinked owlishly. “But that’s my mom’s.”
McLean raised an eyebrow, finally meeting Nicky’s gaze. She didn’t buy his casual act for a minute. He was furious. If she was being truthful, his anger was more than justified. Still, he was obviously fighting to keep his displeasure from Alex, and she appreciated his control. Knowing better than to tug on a tiger’s tail, she followed his example.
“Mr. McLean looks tired, Alex.” Saying the words aloud, Nicky realized they were, in fact, true. A shadow of dark stubble covered the lower half of his face, and the blue of his irises was intensified by the road map of red in his bloodshot eyes. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth. “He can have my bed. How about I sleep with you?”
“I thought we were going now?” Alex swung his head between them. Confusion wrinkled his brow.
“I need to get some sleep, sport,” McLean told Alex before she could comment. “Would you mind if we left in the morning?”
“Are you coming to Drake’s ranch with us?” Alex’s face lit with pleasure at the idea.
“I sure am.”
Nicky rolled her eyes at McLean’s smug smile.
He squatted in front of Alex. “Tim was just about to go across the street to get us some dinner. What do you say you go along in case he needs help?”
Alex danced from foot to foot. “Can I, Mom?”
A cold shiver of alarm raced over Nicky.
McLean must have noticed, because his voice smoothed out into a reassuring rumble. “They won’t be gone long. Tim won’t let anything happen to him.”
Tim? The man whose truck she’d stolen? That Tim? Oh, yeah, that made her feel so much better.
McLean rose to his full height. He crossed his arms and lifted a brow as though he’d read her thoughts. “Tim’s a professional. He’ll bring him back in fifteen minutes.”
McLean’s message was clear in his hot, blue eyes. Alex would be leaving the room, regardless of her feelings, to allow them time for a private conversation.
“Please?” Alex pleaded when she remained silent.
“Okay,” Nicky conceded reluctantly. “But make sure you mind Mr. Burns.”
McLean spun to open the door and signaled to Tim. Alex was out the door like a shot. He skidded to a halt at Tim’s side.
“And hold his hand,” she called. Alex grabbed hold of the man’s hand without asking and smiled up at him.
McLean gave Tim his order and lifted a brow at her. “Would you like anything?”
Nicky shrugged and shook her head. Her eyes never left her son.
“Have you eaten anything lately?”
“I had breakfast this morning.”
He added another meal to the order and closed the door on the retreating figures of the tall, blond man and her small, dark-headed son.
Anxiety clawed at her. “He’d better come back.”
“He will.” McLean’s low growl was harsh with restrained temper. “I’m not even going to ask what you were thinking.”
“I was thinking Jonathan’s thugs were going to be all over you after what happened at his cabin.”
“So you decided to strike out on your own?” He propped his hands on his hips. “You can’t be that stupid.”
The incredulity in his tone stabbed at Nicky, and she stiffened. “I’m an expert at hiding from Jonathan Everson.”
“That ring you found on your nightstand says something different.”
She flinched. Guilt was a physical pain and threatened to steal her breath. She lifted her chin. “I went to my father’s funeral. I won’t make that kind of mistake again.”
“Jesus.” McLean rubbed a wide palm over his face. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. We need to come to some kind of workable agreement. I can’t concentrate on what needs doing if I have to worry about you disappearing every time my back is turned.”
“And I need to see Alex is safe.”
“He won’t be safe until Everson is caught!” His temper snapped.
Nicky’s voice shook under the heavy weight of fear and frustration. “Do you think I don’t know that? Believe me, I’ve known that from the day I discovered I was carrying him.”
“Then help me catch Everson and put him away for good.”
“I plan to, but I won’t let Alex be used as bait!”
“I didn’t ask you to.” McLean’s eyes napped with fury. “We’ll get him to a safe house. Then we’ll draw Everson out of hiding.”
She stiffened. “We being Global Shield?”
“Exactly.”
Nicky shook her head in refusal even as he spoke.
“This isn’t negotiable, Nicky.”
“It had better be, because my son isn’t going anywhere connected to Global Shield in any way.”
McLean shoved the fingers of both hands through his hair until the short strands stood on end. “You are without a doubt the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
She quirked her lips into a smirk. “I consider that a compliment. Stubbornness kept me alive for the past five years.”
A frustrated sigh flared his nostrils. “We can keep him safe.”
“I know you believe that.” Nicky dragged in a breath. It was imperative she make him understand, because she wouldn’t, couldn’t, give in on this point. “But no organization is perfect. I’ve seen the way Jonathan operates. His people have infiltrated o
rganizations more secure than Global Shield.”
McLean’s eyes slid shut, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He pinched the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand. When he opened his eyes, the frustration in them announced his need to argue the point, but he would be wasting his time. On the safety of her son, she wouldn’t budge.
Finally, he shook his head. “I assume you’ve made other arrangements.” His low voice was full of reluctant acceptance.
Nicky nodded.
He sighed. “Tell me.”
Chapter Twelve
Rhy rose from the bed and shot an angry glance toward the tiny table where Nicky and Alex ate their meals. In truth, Nicky ate. Alex picked. Empty junk food wrappers explained the boy’s lack of appetite. His own hunger abated, Rhy dropped the empty container from his dinner into the small trash can. If only his temper could be as easily dismissed.
The little spitfire had fucking hot-wired Tim’s truck! The General’s daughter was a definite piece of work and as stubborn as she was beautiful. Unfortunately, he couldn’t lay his anger at her feet alone. He deserved a good portion of the blame for the mess they found themselves in. In his line of work, mistakes got people killed, and he’d already made too many where Nicky and Alex were concerned. He wouldn’t make another.
Whether or not Everson’s documents were legit no longer mattered, other than making Rhy feel like a complete bastard for narking her out to the murderous prick. The deed was done, and he had little choice but to go on as planned. Admitting his culpability now would only send her running again, endangering her and the boy and lessening Rhy’s chances of capturing Everson any time soon.
For better or worse, they were in this together, and he couldn’t allow guilt to cloud his judgment. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have known she’d pull a stunt like this, and he’d have to make damned sure she had no opportunity to disappear again.
He grunted in frustration and crossed the room to rummage through his overnight bag.
Nicky had surprised the hell out of him when she’d taken Tim aside, after he returned with Alex and their meals, to apologize for stealing his truck. Tim waved aside her apology, saying he could sympathize with her reasoning, if not her judgment. Settled in a room three doors down, Tim would return to Maine in the morning.
Lyndsay was due to check in within the hour. He’d be their shadow and backup, if necessary, on the trip to Prescott and the Maxwell Ranch and would remain with Alex while Rhy and Nicky continued on to her cabin in Flagstaff to set the trap for Everson. Tim would supply Rhy with everything he could find on Devin and Grace Maxwell, but Rhy would judge for himself whether or not he’d be leaving the boy in their hands, once he sized up the man as well as the ranch. If Rhy didn’t like the setup, he wouldn’t leave Alex there. End of story. If Nicky didn’t like that, too damned bad. He’d cut her as much slack as she was going to get.
She was convinced Devin Maxwell could keep Alex safe, and her faith in the rancher made Rhy want to dislike the man on principle. He and Global Shield were fallible, but some blue-blooded horse breeder could be trusted to keep her son safe? He barely stopped a snort of offense.
Digging through his bag, he grunted and straightened. The handcuffs clinked together as he carried them to the door. Nicky glanced over as he attached one end to the iron grating of the old-fashioned radiator beside the door. The fit was tight, but he managed to close the other end around the doorknob with a decisive snick. The makeshift lock effectively prevented the door from being opened without first obtaining the key. He slipped the key chain into the front pocket of his jeans.
Irritation simmered in Nicky’s eyes when they lifted from the handcuffs to him. “Isn’t that a fire hazard?”
“I’m a light sleeper.”
“That isn’t necessary, you know.”
Her words were an echo of those she’d thrown at him when he unceremoniously searched her duffel bag earlier while Tim and Alex were still out getting their meals.
Rhy repeated the same response as he had then. “I’m not taking any chances you’ll be gone when I wake up.”
“I thought you were a light sleeper.” A healthy dose of syrupy sweet sarcasm coated the dig.
He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one hip in a negligent pose. “There’s another alternative.” He shifted his gaze to the bed he’d be sleeping in, alone, before coming back to rest on her with his eyebrows raised.
Nicky gave him a “get real” smirk but didn’t comment.
“I didn’t think so.” He ground his teeth against the sharp stab of disappointment he had no business feeling. He picked up his bag and headed for the bathroom, so pissed he couldn’t think straight. Nonetheless, his justifiable anger was no match for the images flooding his mind at the idea of crawling into that soft bed to curl himself around her even softer body. Then again, the part of his body supplying the impetus for the images wasn’t exactly known for its intelligence.
He closed the bathroom door with a kick of his foot. The cold shower didn’t help.
Rhy drafted Tim once again the next morning to distract Alex when Nicky balked at the plans he laid out for the trip to Prescott. She’d reluctantly accepted his presence, but insisted having a team from Global Shield accompany them all the way to Arizona was sure to draw unwanted attention.
“One man doesn’t make a team,” Rhy argued when the door closed behind Tim and Alex. “But I’m sure Lyndsay will appreciate the compliment.”
“You’re purposefully missing my point!”
“No, I get your point. In fact, I happen to agree with you, but there’s no way in hell I’m heading cross-country with the two of you without some kind of backup. Whether you like it or not, we’re going to need the intelligence Global Shield can provide. We’ll be hitting a line of winter storms over the next forty-eight hours, which will slow us down. If we’re lucky, we’ll reach the ranch in three days. Add another half day if I don’t like what I see when we get there, and I have to stash Alex in an alternate location before we head to Flagstaff.”
Rhy raised a brow, daring her to comment. Her mouth twisted in mulish disagreement, and his frustrated sigh was more like a grunt. “A trail can turn mighty cold in that amount of time. If Everson doesn’t take the bait at your cabin, do you really want to give him such a big head start?”
Nicky remained stubbornly mute.
Rhy fisted his hands on his hips. “My brother is already dead. For me there are no time constraints on finding Everson. He’ll surface eventually, and maybe you can take care of yourself when he does. But what about that little boy? Don’t kid yourself.” Exasperation collided with the guilt knotting his gut and made his voice sharp as he pointed toward the closed door. “That ring was a promise. Everson will find you sooner or later. Are you willing to condemn your son to a life on the run?”
Pink flags of anger flared on Nicky’s cheeks. “I’ve agreed to help you trap Jonathan, haven’t I? I don’t like it, but I’ve agreed.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “As soon as Alex is safe, I won’t rest until Jonathan is either captured or in the ground, but I know him. If there is the slightest leak at Global Shield, he’ll find it.”
Whether intentional or not, Rhy took the insult to him and his team personally. Yeah, he’d fucked up, but his complete faith in the employees of Global Shield was rock solid. He’d put his life on the line with every one of them over the years and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. They were pros. The best. Her disdain for their abilities slashed at more than his pride. Her comment suggested they couldn’t be trusted. Rhy had acted on his own going to her cabin, so while he deserved her instinctive distrust, his team didn’t.
He shoved aside his guilt and narrowed his eyes. “I trust these men with my life.”
Nicky’s stubborn silence broke on an anguished cry. “It’s not your life I’m worried about!” She spun away, her movements jerky as she bent over her open duffel and began to shove items inside. “Don’t you understa
nd? I have to keep Alex safe. I have to.”
She straightened suddenly, Alex’s pajama bottoms balled in her fist. She turned her head, and the stark fear in her eyes was a full-on sucker punch to Rhy’s gut.
She shook her head and looked away. “He’s all I have left.”
The clothing slipped from her opening fingers to land in the bag. She didn’t move otherwise, and the despondent slump of her slim shoulders called out to everything male in Rhy, demanding he step into the breach and banish the fears haunting her exquisite eyes. In three steps, he stood behind her, his large palms cupping the delicate balls of her shoulders.
“Hey,” he crooned.
Fine tremors shook her small frame, but she didn’t pull away, standing pliant beneath his touch. “I’m scared, McLean. Scared to death something will go wrong.”
The admission surprised him. Her fear had been evident from the moment she’d recognized him in the Hawleys’ parlor, but until this moment, she’d managed to disguise the depth of her distress with a screw-you jut of her chin and an in-your-face attitude. The hot-wiring spitfire had given way to a frightened mother, desperate to protect her son, and damned if Rhy didn’t yearn to hold them both.
Dangerous territory, McLean.
He resisted the urge to wrap her in his arms and murmur promises he had no business making. Instead, he slid his hands down her arms and back again. He’d never convince her to put her faith in a bunch of virtual strangers. Five-plus years of running had taught her to trust no one. The best he could do was offer her a compromise.
“I know you’re scared, but there’s no need. You’re safe. You’re both safe. I won’t cut out Global Shield completely, but I’ll keep contact with the firm to a bare minimum. Lyndsay can make any necessary connections through Tim and vice versa. I trust both men explicitly. No one else at Global Shield will know our location or destination, and no one but Lyndsay will have direct contact with me.”
A shuddering breath lifted her shoulders, as if in an attempt to regain control.
“I’m asking you to trust me, Nicky.” Rhy held his breath. Despite his fuckup early on, he was damned good at what he did. He’d track down Everson eventually. However, until he did, she and Alex would remain in danger, and Brian’s death would be unavenged. Her cooperation increased the odds of a quick success for his mission, but if she couldn’t trust him, they were at a stalemate. He’d compromised as much as he was going to.
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