Outsider (The Ashport Mender Series Book 1)

by G. K. Lund

  And so, hours later, as darkness set in, we neared town again, unseen by anyone, tired and filthy from struggling through woodlands and fields. Evans’ white top looked a mix of brown and gray at this point. That wasn’t even the worst part, though. We knew, both of us, that we had failed Andrea badly, and that stung worse than anything. Even having to hide from my friends and colleagues.

  When houses popped up around us and the road turned to asphalt, we had no choice but to walk out in the open. The darkness luckily hid our bedraggled appearances. We hadn’t walked very far in this area before I noticed something familiar down a side street.

  A gray sedan.

  Seriously?

  It seemed too good to be true. Like an unlocked back door in a house with a kidnapped woman. They must have seen us coming somehow. Maybe when we drove by?

  “Let’s go,” Evans said at the sight, looking grateful even.

  “You don’t think it’s a trap?”

  “Yorov are thorough. Why would they drive around in a stolen police car? No, they took this car to stop us from following them, not because they needed it.”

  I checked the car with hesitation. It was left open. I found all my missing things, relief hitting me like a fist. Even my phone lay in the backseat where Evans had tossed it on her way out. I switched it on, finding no alarming messages, skipping most of them until I found one from Kaye simply informing me they’d had a lead. Nothing more. I realized the kidnappers must have driven the cars out on small side roads a while after leaving the farm and thereby avoided detection by the police coming the opposite way. If Kaye had seen my car she would have found an excuse to meet to find out what I was up to, not update me on the case. I was so relieved shame surged through me instantly. The kidnappers had done me a favor trying to hide and I was sadly thankful. I drew breath and got in the car.

  “Seems you’ve been lucky,” Evans commented. She had obviously reached the same conclusion as me.

  “Apparently, they don’t want the police involved, either,” I said and turned the engine on. “You have something in common there.”

  She scoffed at the insult, but let it be. Instead, she instructed me to drive to a house a couple of minutes away from our location. “I need some new clothes,” she said.

  A middle-aged woman let us in, smiling at Evans despite the state of her attire. This was not surprising to her. She also offered us water, a big mug ready in the fridge. We stood for a while in silence, gulping it down in this woman’s kitchen. I don’t think I ever got her name. Evans apparently had a stash of clothes there, and I’d grabbed a bag of clothes from the trunk of the car. Not the first time I’d ended up covered with something or other on the job. As I changed, though, I noticed the marks left by the stun gun. Instead of two dots as expected, I had five marks on my left ribs. That was weird. Even weirder, though they hurt, they weren’t burn marks, but bruises. What kind of stun gun did that?

  “What do we do now?” Evans asked, looking like she hadn’t been near a forest as she’d cleaned up and changed, a red shirt, her hair down again and the dark pink lipstick changed to red. She handed the woman her dirty clothes.

  “Do you have stashes like this all over town?” I asked, knowing from Collier’s file that she wasn’t often in her own home. Of course, she didn’t answer. Only smiled.

  Her question was not easy to answer, however. What to do? We had to start over again. And yes…it had to be we. She was connected to this, and I had to see it through for Andrea’s sake. They’d kept her seated, tied to a chair for two days. Had no qualms about hurting her. I’d seen that myself. And we had been too late. I wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  Chapter 13

  As we stepped up to the front door, I took the keys out of my pocket. I’d swung by the station to get them. Not many people were in at the time to ask questions. Evans had actually done as I said, waiting in the car and keeping her head down and not bolting. Of course, she knew she couldn’t stay in any of her usual places. If both Yorov and Agent Larkin where after her, they would be regrouping, planning, and waiting for her somewhere.

  “What, this is your place?” she asked, arms crossing at once.

  “No,” I said as I unlocked the door and opened it. “Now get in.”

  She did as told, though with a clear huff to make a point as she moved past me. I followed and closed the door behind me.

  “So, who’s is it?” she asked as she found the light-switch, flipping it on and looking around a now lit, small apartment. It was furnished, light colors, kitchen separated from the living room. No one lived there on a regular basis, as evidenced by the lack of personal things. No photos, no mail, no decorations.

  “It’s a safe house we use now and then,” I said.

  “Oh, I get it,” she said, smirk back in place now. “You bring criminals here when they need protection. Like when they agree to testify.”

  And innocent witnesses, too, sometimes, but I didn’t tell her that. “Yeah, you should feel at home, Evans,” I said. “Anyway, no one will be looking for you here.”

  “But you will be able to keep tabs on me, right?” She eyed me through narrowed eyes. I shrugged. Of course, I needed to keep an eye on her. Weird-ass shit seemed to happen around her all the time.

  “Fine,” she snapped and headed for the living room, taking off her jacket and throwing it on the floor. Probably to irritate me. It worked.

  I went into the kitchen, hoping to find some food. Any stay in places like these usually involved takeaway, but one was also never alone with the witnesses. I shook my head. She was not only a witness, she was involved somehow. And I had to prove it. She might be a kidnapping victim waiting to happen, but her involvement in crimes and her knowledge of removing evidence from crime scenes, suggested so much. The things she’d grabbed from Kreutz’s farm now rested on the bottom of a pond about an hour’s walk away. No, leaving to find food meant risking her leaving. I wasn’t taking that chance. Damn the chief’s orders. I wasn’t helping her.

  I looked through the cupboards and found some canned food, sighing in disappointment. Vegetable soup it was. I heard the TV click on as I searched for something to heat it in, but couldn’t hear what program she was watching.

  “Hey, Hansen,” she suddenly shouted.

  “What?”

  I heard approaching footsteps and gritted my teeth.

  “What’s your plan then?” she asked as she leaned against the door frame. Arms crossed again.

  “You need to be specific.”

  “Well, I’m not interested in your life plan, so…”

  “So?” I snapped. I couldn’t help myself. The mere sight of her pissed me off at the moment. Everything she had dragged me into. All the questions she didn’t answer.

  She smiled then, a little more than her usual smirk. “There’s only one bedroom. How close of an eye were you going to keep on me, exactly?”

  “I’ll take the couch,” I said, picking a can opener out of a drawer.

  “Not afraid I’ll sneak out the window?”

  “No.”

  “Why? You gonna handcuff me to the bed?”

  I put the can opener on the counter and turned toward her. She was trying to disconcert me. Probably because my dislike of her was so obvious. Of course, that behavior only made me dislike her more. She arched an eyebrow, her smile not wavering. I knew I could compel her when needed, but I had never seen her afraid of me. Not now, either. Still, I stood in front of her, making a point of looking down at her.

  “I think that if you sneak out the window, then you’re a bigger idiot than I expected. This is the last place the FBI will be looking for you because no one in their right mind would ever believe I’d be helping you.”

  “Helping me?” she exclaimed and stepped back into the living room again. I smiled. A small victory.

  “You’re not helping me,” she continued. “You’re helping yourself, convinced that I’ve done something wrong—”

  “You we
re there when McAllen was shot—”

  “You know why! All I’ve done is try to help.”

  “Ha, what exactly do you have on Mulligan then?”

  “What?”

  “Oh yeah, go with the what? routine like you’re so fucking innocent. McAllen almost died. He still might.” I realized I was shouting. That the TV was an added noise that irritated me as much as her. I grabbed the remote and switched it off, barely registering that she’d put on some nature show, before throwing the remote so it hit the floor, the battery lid coming off and sliding under the couch.

  “You’re an ass,” she said, a ripple of contempt passing her bright red lips.

  “And you are guilty as hell,” I snapped back.

  “Of what?”

  “Theft, blackmail, and whatever you get from the interrogations.” I walked back toward her, seeing the mix of shock and confusion on her face. Oh, she was good.

  “Get from them?” she said, refusing to take a step back as I came closer.

  “I’ll admit I haven’t figured that one out yet. Access to the suspects. Maybe some information is exchanged. Maybe it’s access to the station?”

  “You’ve been investigating me?”

  I was the one smiling now. But I didn’t answer.

  “You bastard,” she said, her voice low now, furious. “When this is over, I’ll refuse any job from Mulligan.”

  That made me laugh. “Win-win for me.”

  She started raising her right arm then. I don’t know if it was to hit me or flip me off, but I knew what she could do, had been on the alert since this argument began. I grabbed her arm and she stepped back toward the wall. I let go of her arm, my point made.

  “Don’t try anything like that,” I added for good measure.

  She looked up at me, calm now. Her eyes didn’t even look angry anymore. No, I had never been able to frighten her.

  “You must think I’m a great liar,” she said.

  “I just don’t get why, though.”

  She shrugged and sighed deeply at the same time, the movements causing her chest to rise and lower slowly. At which point, I realized how close I was standing. I had leaned forward to get my point across, one arm against the wall for support. I could feel her breath against my neck. A part of me realized I had to step back, and yet I didn’t.

  Her face softened, no mockery to be seen. No smirk, not even a smile. Her red lips parted slightly. Obviously, she understood everything before me.

  “So,” she almost whispered, leaning forward a little, speaking the rest by my ear, “what do you want to do to me now?”

  I remember images flashing before my mind. Of her. What I wanted, indeed. I remember that it actually shocked me, as I pushed against her, her back meeting the wall as I kissed her, greedily, feeling her soft lips against mine. All I could hear was our heightened breathing over my pulse in my ears. My hands running over her, grabbing her hips before moving upward, cupping her breasts, hearing her sigh at the touch. The sound barely escaped through our desperate kiss. I didn’t think about what the hell was going on, only about what I wanted. My fingers went for her shirt buttons, too impatient to be gentle. I remember thinking “fuck it,” before simply ripping it open. Apt words for the occasion, I guess. I broke the kiss then. Looking at her, seeing the smile, the black bra, and I knew it needed off, my hand moving behind her, unhooking it. She didn’t seem the least bit perturbed as she grabbed hold of my belt, pulling me closer.

  Clothes came off with equal hurry from both sides. I was acutely aware of her hands on me, resting on my neck, gliding over my chest. Still, not until one of her hands slid down and around my erect shaft did I realize how ready I was. A pang of pleasure hit me and I saw a satisfied smile on her face at that.

  Oh, no you don’t, I thought and grabbed hold of her thighs, lifting her up against the wall, holding her up by pushing my upper body against her. Her arms went around my neck for support. I stopped for a moment then, my erection pressing against the inside of her thigh. She didn’t say anything, her dark eyes looking straight into mine. No mockery anymore. I realized then that the smirk had moved to my lips. I didn’t say anything, simply shifted my hold on her a little and carried her like that into the bedroom. The light was on; she must have done that when checking the place. There was a sizeable bed in there, not really intended for this, but I didn’t care. I moved forward, adrenaline souring through me, which is probably why I managed, on a mean whim, to throw her onto the bed. It didn’t seem to faze her at all. She landed on her back and simply eased herself up on her elbows, and otherwise looked utterly relaxed. She made no attempt to cover herself, no shame to be seen. Why should there be? She was beautiful. Despite my dislike, I had always known that. Without clothes, I now saw it for real. No, instead of ashamed or confused, she looked somewhat curious, raising an eyebrow at me again. That brought back the irritation from the kitchen. Had there ever been a moment to back down, I realize that would have been it. But I was too far gone. I went toward the bed, moving with no hurry over her, deciding to torture her by going slow. My hand moving up the inside of her thigh, my lips next. Her sighs filled my ears like sweet music. My other hand reached for a breast, the nipple hard already. She laid her hand encouragingly over mine, her sighs turning to moans. My own quickened breath mixed with hers as I moved, finding the other breast with my mouth, gently sucking at it, my own need becoming more urgent now. Which is how I didn’t pay attention to her hands, as she positioned them on my upper body, her right foot sliding up my thigh toward my hip.

  Without warning, or more exactly, without me paying attention to the warning, she flipped me onto my back. A moment of confusion struck me as I had at least fifty pounds on her. But before I could shake it, she was on top of me, straddling me, bending forward and kissing my chest and neck. Her hand moved down again, finding hold of what she wanted. A groan escaped me as she slid her hand, gently but firmly, pleasure shuddering through me. My hands moved on their own from the bed, up her thighs, taking hold of her curved hips. I wanted her to continue, couldn’t help the sounds that escaped me at her touch. When she ceased, I eased my grip on her hips, knowing what was coming. I could feel the tip of my shaft against her warmth, my hips moving slightly and involuntarily now. She eased both her hands on my stomach. All she had to do was move her hips forward a little and she would envelop me. I looked up at her, and then I realized what she was waiting for. What I had been waiting for.

  Hell no.

  In a movement of pure strength, fueled by the returning fury, I sat up, grabbed hold around her waist and went further up, on my knees. She didn’t make a sound, only wrapped her arms around me, and I didn’t pause as I let us fall, though I saw the half-smile a moment. My body knocked the breath out of her a little as we landed but I didn’t care. Anger and lust coursed through me as I kissed her again, the same deep desperate kiss as before. She breathed heavily at first and eased into it as she got it back. A distinct throbbing was taking hold of me as my shaft stroked her, hearing her moans under me. I broke the kiss a moment, looking at her, seeing her half-closed eyes, her parted lips. Her noises as she went with it, however it happened. My hungry lips met hers again as I, without being aware really, moved back a little and felt her core. As I thrust inside, she lifted her hips to meet me. Pleasure ran through me as her tightness readily enclosed me. I had pushed hard, making a half-strangled groan escape her, breaking the kiss again as she moved her head back. It was the sexiest little noise. The mix of pleasure and anger made me pull back and do it with more force, again and again, the same effect for us both, until the final peak rolled through us.

  I awoke in a comfortable and confused state the next morning. That is to say, the moment before I was fully awake and aware of where I was, was comfortable. Through half-open eyes, I saw daylight permeating the window, though the light in the room was still on. A muted soar of cars drove on the street outside. Then I realized I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes fully, realizing I was lying un
der the covers next to Evans. Spooning, for God’s sake. My right arm lay over her and I was cupping one of her breasts while a very obvious morning…surprise, pressed into the back of her thigh.

  Nonononononono was instantly the only thing going through my mind. No. What the hell? I don’t know how I managed to pull away without waking her, how I managed to not panic then and there. What had I done? Sleeping with a suspect? I became dizzy as the ramifications of this hit me, staggering into the bathroom. I closed the door without making a sound and leaned back against it, breathing heavily, trying to get my head straight. I stood like that a long time, restraining the impending panic. Forcing myself not to think for a moment, only to calm my breathing.

  “Why?” I whispered to myself and straightened up, walking a few steps forward, seeing myself naked in the mirror above the sink. Oh God, no. Not with her. I grimaced looking up at the ceiling like there was any help to find there.

  In the end, a shower made me feel marginally better. At least it calmed me down from the shock awakening. I stood for a long time, hands on the wall as water poured over me. I had to wrap my head around this. You didn’t sleep with suspects. What the hell? Yes, she was attractive, but I’d never even thought about something like this. And why her? I knew in my gut there was something off about her. Memories of the previous night came back like treacherous old friends. I had been stone cold sober. Of course, I remembered everything. The why dawned on me as well. It at least had to be part of it. I had been angry, no denying that. An anger only she could provoke. It never led anywhere. Oh, I had wanted to see her move under me, hear her moan from my touch, hear her beg, whisper my name…

  I shook my head, making water spray on the wall. One couldn’t have everything.

  “What the fuck?” I blurted, straightening up. I shouldn’t have wanted anything.

  I dried myself with a towel and then realized my clothes were not in the bathroom. I sighed in desperation and opened the door. She was still sleeping. Lying on her side where I’d left her, gray sheets covering her, yet showing the swell of her curves. I gave myself a mental punch. Why was I noticing that?