As I moved toward the bathroom sign in the back of the store, my eyes caught on the row of merchandise in front of me. It was the kind of thing that had followed me around for months while I’d hidden away under witness protection. Baby wipes. A couple of diaper packages.
Owen’s face filled my entire mind, and nausea rose bitterly in my tight throat. I threw a hand over my mouth and whirled toward the bathroom, my blurry eyes stuck on the baby supplies.
Owen. My heart squeezed as I stumbled toward the bathroom. I was leaving him again. I was leaving my son. How could I ever forgive myself if something happened to him while I was gone?
I threw open the door and emptied the contents of my stomach. I couldn’t stop myself. It was all too much to take. After taking several shaky breaths of air, I turned to find Franklin’s tall and towering frame edging into the bathroom. Embarrassment filled my chest, but it didn’t stop the dam from breaking behind my eyes.
“Oh, Rosie,” he said, his voice rumbling inside his chest. “Come here.”
He opened his arms, and I fell against his chest, letting my emotions pour out of my eyes and onto his soft shirt. He was solid, firm, and steady, the only thing keeping me upright. His arms tightened around me, and his chin rested comfortingly on the top of my head. All I could do was lean on him and let it all out.
“I’m so sorry,” I said through my sniffles. “I’m such a mess.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, pressing a warm hand against my neck. “I swear to god, Rosie Smith, I will do whatever it takes to make this right.”
Chapter Fourteen
Franklin
I was the worst kind of shit in the world. Rosie was a wreck, and I’d fucking caused it. I kicked the car tire and cursed myself under my breath. I’d just had to goddamn tell her that it was her fault we were on the run. This settled it. I’d have to come clean. It was the only way I could live with myself. I would tell her, I would. Just not today. It would have to wait until I was one hundred percent certain she was safe from Scooter Stone. Otherwise, she’d just go running back.
“It’s a nice car,” the owner of the godforsaken gas station said, his eyes glittering with greed.
I pushed aside my jumbled thoughts and turned to him with my arms crossed over my chest. I’d left Rosie inside to clean up while I took care of our car problem. Meaning, I had to ditch the beautiful piece of machinery before me. Jace had given it to me as a parting gift, and I hated to see it go. But too many people in Carlsville had seen the Porsche for me to feel comfortable continuing on in it.
“Then, it’s your lucky day,” I said with a grimace.
“And you’re just going to let me have it?” He raised his eyebrows as I tossed the keys in his direction.
“That’s usually how these things work,” I said.
He nodded vigorously and pointed to a rundown pickup truck parked at the edge of the empty lot. “Alright then. There you go. That one there will be yours now.”
He handed me the keys just as Rosie pushed open the door of the gas station. My eyes were drawn to her immediately. Her tight little jeans hugged her shapely legs, shifting slightly as she strode toward me. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at the smooth skin of her neck. Even though she’d been a mess only moments before, she looked damn good now, as if she’d been able to cast away the demons that were following us around.
My gut squeezed. Demons that were all my goddamn fault.
Rosie raised her eyebrows when she reached me, frowning at the bearded man who was now climbing into my car. “What the hell is going on now?”
“We’re ditching it,” I said, giving a small nod toward the pickup truck. “We’ll be leaving in that now.”
“Ditching it?” Her eyes widened. “I thought the whole point of coming all this way from the exit was so the FBI wouldn’t follow our trail.”
“It was. But we can’t be too careful.”
Rosie’s lips parted, and she surprised me by the light laugh that flew from her throat. “I swear to god, Franklin Snow, you are the most paranoid person I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Paranoia has kept me alive this long.” I turned toward the truck. “I’m depending on it now.”
The tires crunched gravel as I eased the rattling truck behind the cabin. Jace had really outdone himself this time. The place he’d found for me was a large and pristine wooden house situated down a long dirt road, hidden in the middle of a forest so thick I couldn’t see a goddamn thing but a swirl of brown and green.
The truck had barely made it up the steep incline into the mountains. Rosie had clutched my arm as she’d stared out the smudged window at the treeline that dropped straight down from the curving road while the truck had crawled its way to our destination. We were definitely in Smoky Mountain territory now, and the rustic smell of the woods filled up the truck before we even cracked open the doors.
“Should I even ask how you got this place?” she asked, easing out of the truck and stretching her arms over her head. It hadn’t been a long drive, but it had been a tense one. Both of us had been on edge, Rosie constantly craning her neck to stare out the back window and me clenching my jaw at the guilt hanging in my gut.
“It belongs to a friend of mine,” I said, slamming the door and looking up at the house. It couldn’t exactly be called a cabin. It was more like a mansion masquerading as one. Knowing Jace, there was probably a sauna and a swimming pool somewhere inside its massive depths. “I used to work for this guy in New York.”
She turned to me with surprise. “You used to live in New York?”
“For a brief moment in time.” Sadness settled over me. New York had been a sliver of happiness amidst the dark cloud my life had gathered around it. I still hadn’t had much of a life in the city, but it had been a better existence than being on the run.
“Is that before or after you left the FBI?” Rosie asked.
“Let’s go see what it’s like inside,” I said, changing the subject. Now was not the time to give Rosie a history lesson on my life. In fact, there might never be a time for that. As soon as I got her reunited with her son, I would need to be on my way out of her life.
We’d gotten too close already. I didn’t need to make it worse.
Rosie frowned, but she didn’t argue as we approached the house. Jace had said there’d be a set of keys hidden underneath the doormat out front, and I found them easily before opening the door.
The cabin opened up before us, the ceiling rising high and supported by thick wooden beams. Rosie gasped and strode inside, whirling to take in the large expanse of the room, the sleek and rustic furniture, the scent of pine and leaves.
“This place is amazing,” she said, wandering over to the open-plan kitchen. She cracked open the massive refrigerator but shut it quickly with a frown. “What are we going to do about food?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “You get settled in, and I’ll head into town to get some supplies.”
Her face blanched. “You’re going to leave me here alone?”
“You’ll be fine.” My heart stirred at the raw and innocent look in her eyes, and I forced myself to turn away. I couldn’t let myself give in to what I felt deep down inside me. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, pull her close, and kiss all her worries and fears away. But I couldn’t give into that. It just wasn’t right.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosie
Franklin said he’d be gone only an hour but an hour felt like fifty to me. I whirled around to take in my new surroundings, trying to distract myself from the nerves swirling in my belly. The cabin wasn’t a cabin at all. It was large and overwhelming, and I felt like it swallowed me whole. Thick beams held up a lofted ceiling overhead, and a maze-like hallway led me from oversized room to room until I swore I was lost and would never get free.
I sat down on the large bed in one of the rooms, my gaze hardening on the darkening sky outside of the floor t
o ceiling window. That was how I had felt these past three months. Lost. I had thought going back to Carlsville would chase that feeling away, but it had only made it worse. What the hell was I doing with my life? I’d had dreams. Plans. Hopes and desires that were the total opposite of where I was now.
But the worst part of it all was that Scooter had taken my boy.
Tears slid down my cheeks, but I brushed them away when I heard the screen door screech and then slam hard. My blood went cold, and my breath stilled in my lungs. Had Franklin already come back? Had he left the door locked behind him? The logical part of my brain knew it had to be him. But my heart thumped hard, reminding me that it could be someone else entirely instead. It could be Scooter. Or the FBI. Or it could be some creep who had been lurking outside. We were in the middle of the woods, and Franklin had left me here all alone.
My fists tightened around the checkered bedspread, my heart thumping so hard I could hear it echoing in my ears.
“Rosie?” Franklin’s deep voice called out from somewhere down the hallway. My breath expelled from my lungs as relief poured through me. Of course it was Franklin. I was just being paranoid. He’d been so careful to cover our tracks that there was no way Scooter could find us now. Franklin had been a special agent, after all. This spy stuff was his speciality. A smile tickled my lips as I eased off the bed and found my way back to the front of the cabin. A few months ago, this whole spy thing would have sounded so bizarre to me. But now, it felt like the most normal thing in the world.
When I reached the front of the cabin, Franklin was at the open refrigerator, his back to me. Brown grocery bags squatted on the marble countertop, spilling over with enough food to feed fifteen Franklin-sized men for weeks. And Franklin wasn’t a small man. Not even close.
Conflicted emotions battled for dominance in my heart. A part of me softened at his effort to make sure I was well taken care of. He’d gone out of his way to do this, all for me. But the other part couldn’t help but wonder how long he expected us to hole up here hiding from the law. We couldn’t stay long. We had to make a plan to get Owen and go. I couldn’t handle the thought of it being any other way.
“That’s a lot of food,” I said quietly.
Franklin turned, and my eyes were drawn to where his damp shirt clung to his chiseled chest. He was by far one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. He’d gotten caught up in the misty rain outside, and I fought the urge to suggest that he get out of his wet clothes…
“I didn’t know what kind of food you like, so I got a little of everything.” His voice rumbled in his chest, sending goosebumps along my skin. He saw my shiver, frowned, and shut the refrigerator door. “It’s a little chilly in here, huh? I saw some wood on the porch. Why don’t I get a fire started for us?”
Franklin didn’t look the least bit cold. What he meant was, why don’t I get a fire started for you?
“Okay.” I smiled. “But I can’t have you doing all the work. I’ll look through this mound of food you bought us and whip up something for dinner.”
“Rosie,” Franklin said with a frown. “You’ve been through a lot. You should just relax on the couch. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“I like to cook,” I said, which was true. My lifelong dream had been to be a chef before all this mess with Scooter had begun. When I’d finished my culinary degree, I’d had big plans to move to the big city and land a job at a hot new restaurant.
It had never happened though, and it was starting to look like it never would. Not as long as I had to pretend to be someone other than Rosie Smith.
“Rosie…” He trailed off when he spotted the stubborn look I knew I was sporting.
“Just let me do this okay?” I said. “It’s the one thing I’m good at, and I need to do something, Franklin. Or my thoughts are going to continue running wild until it drives me insane.”
He stared at me hard for several moments before nodding and edging out of the kitchen. “It’s all yours.”
“Good.” I exhaled a large breath and felt the corners of my lips turn up into a smile when I spotted some ramen noodle packets in one of the grocery bags. “Besides, I have a feeling your idea of cooking is pushing a button on a microwave.”
He met my smile with one of his own and held up his hands in surrender. “You’ve got me there.”
“Good. Now shoo.”
Chapter Sixteen
Franklin
As I got the fire roaring, the cabin began to fill up with the intoxicating scent of sizzling steak and herbs. My stomach growled in response, my mouth watering from the aroma. I glanced from the building fire to the kitchen where Rosie was chirping around, her ass wiggling as she moved the pans around the stove.
She looked happy and relaxed. I noticed she’d found the white wine bottle I’d bought for her and had poured herself a full glass. When she turned toward the refrigerator, I could see the flush on her cheeks and the half-smile on her face. My whole body went warm at the sight. She’d been through hell and back these past few days, and here she was, alive and smiling. Safe. Happy. Warm.
How could I make sure she stayed this way?
She twisted away from the refrigerator and spied me watching her. A knowing look lit her eyes, but I did my best to ignore it. It was hard enough wanting her without her knowing about it. If she knew how much I thought about dragging my tongue across her glowing skin, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from giving in.
“Come here,” she said, gesturing toward a bubbling pot on the stove. “Have a taste and let me know what you think.”
Slowly, I stood and made my way into the kitchen, doing my best to keep my body to myself.
“Try this.” She dabbed a spoon into what looked like mashed potatoes before pressing it to my lips. With my eyes held tight on hers, I took it into my mouth, imagining it was her nipple instead of some food.
An explosion of flavors spread across my tongue, and I raised my eyebrows. “Damn. I’m a fan of mashed potatoes, but this is something else, Rosie.”
She lifted her chin and looked very pleased with herself. “Thank you. It’s missing a couple of things, but this will have to do.”
With a delicate touch, Rosie spooned the food onto two plates. Steak, potatoes, some sort of broccoli casserole dish. I’d never been a fan of green shit, but somehow, she’d made all of it look like the best meal I’d ever seen. As she finished prepping the plates, I poured her another tall glass of wine and grabbed myself a whiskey from the bar I’d found just down the hallway.
“Cheers,” I said, lifting my glass as we both settled in at the kitchen table.
Rosie clinked my glass and watched me dig into the food before she started on hers. I could tell she loved how much I liked the food. She’d been at it for over an hour, passionately focusing on every single element of the dishes. This was the brightest I’d seen her since we’d met in the rain the night before, and I could tell all of this was important to her somehow.
“Where’d you learn to cook like this?” I decided I should ask, since she looked like she really wanted to say.
She lifted her knife and began cutting into the steak. “Mom got me started, but I learned most of this at school.”
“School?” I raised my eyebrows.
“I got a culinary degree at UT.” She paused to take a sip of wine, a frown flittering across her features. “I had big plans, you know.”
“Big plans?” I asked, suddenly intensely interested, which was unlike me. I’d never been much for small talk, and I’d never cared much about the ramblings of the girls that caught my eye. Makeup and jewellery and reality TV, that’s all they were interested in. Rosie though…There was much more to her than that, something I’d noticed since the moment we first met. And I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to know everything about her.
I wanted to know about her plans and her dreams. I even wanted to know about her kid.
God, I was so fucking doomed.
“Yeah, I
thought Owen and I would move to New York one day. I could get a job at a restaurant. Work my way up.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I thought I could open my own restaurant after several years of putting in the time. Pretty delusional, huh?”
I set down my knife and fork and met her eyes across the table. “No, Rosie. I don’t think that’s delusional at all. This food. You’ve cobbled it together from a bunch of random ingredients, and you’ve made it taste like something straight out of a Michelin star restaurant.”
And trust me, I’d been to a few.
Her cheeks brightened as I continued. “I know we just met, but you seem like you’ve got the kind of determination to do whatever you want in life. Plus, you’ve got the fucking skills.”
“But the FBI…” she trailed off. “Scooter…It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible,” I said, picking up my knife. “Don’t give up on your dream.”
We ate the rest of the meal in silence, though it wasn’t strained or uncomfortable. I knew Rosie was lost in her thoughts, and I let her mull over my words. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, going off about dreams and wishes like that. It was completely out of character.
I was just a man without a life. No hopes or plans for the future. A loner. A fugitive on the run for the rest of eternity.
I didn’t have dreams.
I had nightmares.
Chapter Seventeen
Rosie
After dinner, Franklin and I sat by the fire. His words had sparked something in me that I’d thought had been buried a long time ago. Dreams and hopes and plans. As the wine began to relax me even more, I started telling him about everything I’d always wanted. I couldn’t stop myself.
Taken: Saved by the Billionaire Bad Boy Page 6
