by Kaylea Cross
“Makes me miss the good old days,” he said. “How’s traffic?”
She was a bit surprised that he seemed to want to prolong the call. Usually he was brusque, got business taken care of and ended the conversation as soon as possible. “A mess.”
A car coming the opposite way entered the intersection after the light turned amber and got stuck behind the lineup of cars, preventing her from making the damn turn.
“Hang on a sec.” Rowan shot the driver a dirty look and zipped out to maneuver around its rear bumper, needing to get the hell out of the intersection before the other cars began moving with the green light.
“You can give me some hints about the case when I see you tonight.”
Safely on the other side of the intersection, she slowed down for the stopped traffic ahead of her at the next light and tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel impatiently. Come on, people, move. “Won’t be able to give you much to go on—”
She broke off on a gasp as a car suddenly came out of nowhere and veered in front of her, almost T-boning her. She barely managed to wrench the steering wheel sharply to the right in time to avoid the crash. Two cars beside her in the left lane weren’t so lucky. They collided, narrowly missing her.
“Rowan?”
She couldn’t answer him, too busy stomping on the brakes to avoid hitting the truck in front of her. A split second later, a car slammed into her from behind.
She grunted as the impact jerked her forward against the shoulder strap of her seatbelt, her head snapping back into the headrest. With her foot jammed on the brake she somehow managed to miss the truck, then a second vehicle hit the right side of hers with a crunch of metal, snapping her head to the side and knocking her left shoulder against the door.
“Shit,” she gasped out, heart hammering as her vehicle jerked to a halt.
“Rowan? Are you all right?” her father asked sharply.
Dammit. She put the car into park and shut off the engine. “I gotta go,” she blurted, and ended the call. Her heart was still beating fast, a mix of anger and shock coursing through her, quickly followed by annoyance. She had to be at the first meeting in just over twenty minutes. She didn’t freaking have time for this mess.
Her hand shook a little as she unlocked her door and reached for the handle. Before she could summon the strength to push on it, someone ripped it open for her.
Startled, she blinked up into the handsome, familiar face staring back at her. Malcolm? DEA Special Agent Malcolm Freeman, the man she’d walked away from but couldn’t forget.
He leaned down to peer at her, hands on either side of the doorframe, his expression full of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered automatically. She didn’t think she was hurt, just shaken up. What on earth was he doing here?
He ran that melted chocolate gaze over her for a moment, assessing her for injury, then reached in to wrap his powerful arms around her and pull her to his chest in a quick hug. “You sure? That second guy hit you pretty hard.”
Automatically she flattened her palms on his back, drank in his warmth and strength. Seemed like a lifetime ago since she’d had his arms around her, and right now they felt like heaven. Safe. Secure. That innate protectiveness of his was one of the things she’d loved most about him. “I’m not hurt,” she managed. At least not seriously. She was breathing fast though, kind of choppy.
All too soon he released her and leaned back to study her eyes. “Cops are on the way.”
She half-swiveled in her seat to look out the passenger window, put a hand to the side of her neck as a twinge of pain shot through it. If traffic had been bad before, now it was a tangled mess. “What about the other drivers?”
“They’re okay. The second guy took off. I let him go because I wanted to make sure you were all right, but I got the plate number.”
She gingerly turned back around to face him. God, he looked more incredible than ever. Black hair cropped close to his head, wearing dress pants and a sapphire blue button down shirt that set off his deep brown skin and stretched across his muscled chest and shoulders. “Where the heck did you come from, anyway?” It was surreal that he’d just appeared out of nowhere at a time like this.
“I was five cars behind you at the light.”
“Going into work?”
“No. Meeting with your boss.”
Oh. She hadn’t realized they would be interviewing him today with the others. “Shit, I’m going to be so late,” she groaned, anxiety forming a tight ball in the pit of her stomach.
“Don’t worry about that.” He took her arm, his grip gentle but sure. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah.” Her legs were a little weak as she got out of the car, her high heels wobbling slightly on the pavement. Malcolm steadied her, and she had to keep from reaching for him when he withdrew his hand, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.
Letting out a deep breath, Rowan took a moment to get her bearings. Two people—presumably the drivers from one of the collisions—were in a heated argument next to their vehicles. Traffic all around them was a snarled nightmare. It would take forever for emergency crews to reach them and clean up the mess.
She walked around to look at her back bumper, then the damage on the passenger side. The front door was caved in and the safety glass in the window was cracked into a thousand pieces. “It’s still drivable, right?” she asked Malcolm.
“Yeah, but you’ve got zero visibility out the passenger window.”
Damn. The cops would have to document everything before she could leave. She’d also have to talk to the other drivers involved and fill out insurance paperwork. At least she didn’t need to have her car towed. Once she got to the office she could have her assistant arrange to have it taken to a body shop and get a rental.
“Your insurance and registration in the glove box?” Malcolm asked her.
“Yes, but I can get—”
He ducked inside the open driver’s side door and leaned across the seat to grab it for her, more muscles flexing along his spine and shoulders beneath the shirt. Although she’d felt the hard planes and contours of his body against hers and under her hands in the few weeks they’d dated, she’d never gotten the chance to see him shirtless. She’d certainly fantasized about it plenty, though, and had a clear mental picture of what he’d look like.
As he climbed back out, he stilled, staring at something. Following his gaze to her key, still in the ignition, she realized he was looking at the keychain. The one he’d bought for her on their third date when she’d finally braved one of the big roller coasters at Busch Gardens. It had the coaster’s name on it. She’d kept it all this time because…
“Here,” he said, straightening and handing the papers over.
“Thanks,” she murmured, feeling slightly awkward as she took the papers from him. The wail of a siren came from down the street. She sighed, feeling calmer, more irritated now than anything else. “I’d better call my boss.”
Malcolm nodded, his alert gaze taking in the chaos around them as she dialed her boss and filled him in on what was going on. When she ended the call, Malcolm focused on her again. “You’ll be okay?”
“Fine,” she answered with a half-smile, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. She hadn’t hit her head or anything. Her neck was going to be stiff and sore for a while though.
His gaze caught on something behind her, and he beckoned to someone. Rowan turned to see three firefighters heading their way, carrying medical kits.
“Oh, no,” she protested, not wanting to delay her arrival at the office any longer than strictly necessary. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need to be checked over.”
“Won’t hurt to make sure,” he said.
The firefighters insisted on assessing her, and then the cops arrived. Malcolm spoke to one officer while Rowan talked to another. Once she was done, Malcolm came up to her, glanced at his watch. “My meeting’s at seven-thirty, so…”
“Right, you sho
uld get going,” she told him, then put on a smile. “At least one of us should be on time this morning.”
He met her gaze, hesitated. As if he was reluctant to leave her yet. It made her miss him, and she didn’t want to.
“Really. I’m fine. Val’s a stickler for punctuality. You’d better get going. Plead my case for me with him, will you?”
One side of his mouth lifted, turning him from gorgeous to heart-stoppingly sexy. And an unexpected wave of sadness filled her. “Will do. See you there, maybe.”
“Hope so.” Her heart sank when he turned and walked away, the overwhelming sense of loneliness taking her off guard. He didn’t owe her anything. She’d been the one to slam the brakes on and put an abrupt end to their relationship just over a year ago. Yet he’d come rushing to her aid today anyway, to make sure she was okay. Why did that make her throat ache?
“Malcolm,” she called out before she could stop herself.
He turned back to face her, raised his eyebrows.
“Thank you.”
With a nod, he spun around and headed for his vehicle, parked along the curb across the far side of the intersection.
The empty sensation inside her expanded. Rowan sighed, berating herself. She had no cause to feel abandoned. She’d let him go a year ago. He wasn’t hers.
But watching him walk away right now, she couldn’t deny that a part of her wished he still was.
Chapter Two
Rowan finally arrived at work almost three hours late. She tossed her briefcase onto the counter that ran along the back wall of her office, and turned to confront the current state of her desk. Her beautiful, antique mahogany desk that dated back to before the Civil War. A present from her parents when she’d passed the bar exam, and she loved it so much she’d moved it here so she could use it every day, instead of keeping it in her home office.
At the moment, every inch of it was piled high with folders and legal boxes for her to go through, and there were more stacked on the floor beside it. She had to be done with all of it by Friday night, and all of it had to wait until she was done interviewing the next batch of witnesses for the Ruiz case.
She rolled her head back and forth to ease the stiffness in her neck. A dull headache pounded in her temples and the base of her skull. The medics had deemed her well enough to skip the hospital and go to work, but warned her she would be sore for a few days. If she was this sore already, she dreaded what tomorrow morning would feel like.
At a sharp knock on her door, she looked up to find her boss, Val, standing there in a charcoal-gray business suit. He was in his early fifties, his thick, light brown hair graying around the temples. “Heard you just got in. You okay?” he asked, running a concerned eye over her.
“Yeah, I’m good. Are you finished with the first set of interviews?”
“No, just took a quick break because Commander Taggart had to take an important call. You ready now, or do you need a few minutes?”
“I’m ready.” She grabbed her laptop, files, and purse and trailed after him down the hall to the conference room. Their first step was to gather evidence and interview witnesses pertaining to the case, including victims. The defendant’s counsel had also hinted that they might be open to considering a plea arrangement, so she and her boss were also working on a possible offer.
Supervisory Special Agent Taggart, commander of FAST Bravo, stood at the far end of the hallway speaking on his cell phone to someone. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment, then looked away as he continued his conversation.
In the waiting area outside the conference room, two more members of FAST Bravo waited, including the team leader. They nodded at her, smiled politely and she did the same, their presence making her heart speed up. If they were still here, then was Malcolm as well?
The moment Val opened the conference room door, Rowan got her answer, her eyes immediately connecting with Malcolm’s. He was seated on the far side of the long table, his big frame taking up the entire chair.
“Hi,” she said, taking her seat across from him and setting her things down, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered. This was the second business meeting she’d had with him over the past couple of weeks, and it felt every bit as strange and stilted as the first time. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not a problem,” he answered. “You get everything sorted out?”
“Yes.” Her boss didn’t know she and Malcolm had dated a year ago, and she didn’t want him to. Their past relationship didn’t affect this case whatsoever. At least here in her work environment she had other things to focus on besides the magnetic man across the table, and the undeniable pull he still exerted on her. Work had always helped her center herself, push all her personal problems into the background.
“Go ahead and pick up where you left off. I’ll catch up as we go.” Not wanting to take up any more of Malcolm’s time than necessary, she opened her file, then glanced at the papers in front of Val to orient herself.
“We were just going over Agent Freeman’s recollection of the night FAST Bravo rescued Victoria Gomez,” her boss said, pointing to a section on the page so she could read over it.
Rowan nodded and continued skimming the report. Miss Gomez was a former investigative reporter who had been kidnapped and brutalized by Carlos Ruiz’s men for several weeks. The woman had been subjected to horrific things that made Rowan’s skin crawl, and she had a huge amount of respect for Miss Gomez’s strength.
The cartel had intended to punish her for exposing Ruiz and his network in an article published in the New York Times. She’d been working on a book about her findings when Ruiz had targeted her. His men had slaughtered her family in front of her, abducted her, used her in horrific ways with the intention of selling her into sexual slavery in Asia when they’d had their fill.
Thankfully Malcolm and his teammates had gotten there first. Now Miss Gomez was the government’s star witness against Ruiz. Rowan and Val had already interviewed her several times. Miss Gomez had volunteered to enter the WITSEC program, for her own protection, and was currently at their orientation center somewhere here in D.C. After she testified and the trial was over, Miss Gomez would begin a new life under a new name somewhere else, and hopefully find a sense of peace and security.
“Okay,” Rowan said as she finished skimming the notes, delaying the moment when she had to look up at Malcolm again. “Please continue.” The more members who corroborated the details of her rescue, the stronger the testimony would be.
“Special Agent Freeman wasn’t in the forest when Miss Gomez was discovered,” Val told her. “Tell us your recollection of what happened after she was found,” he said to Malcolm.
“I was still at the house we’d raided, about seventy or so yards from where she was found in the woods. My team leader and a couple other guys got her into an ambulance and came back to the house. Hamilton rode in the ambulance with her to the hospital and I met him there after we had secured the prisoners and remaining female hostages, and finished processing the scene.”
“Describe the moment when you first met Miss Gomez.”
Malcolm’s steady dark gaze slid from Val to Rowan for a moment before he answered. “She was in the back of the ambulance, wrapped up in a blanket Hamilton had found for her.”
The team members had found her naked in the woods, with—
“She had a rusted old collar and chain hanging from around her neck.”
Because those animals had chained Miss Gomez to the fucking floor in a shed out back of the property so no one could hear her scream when they took turns with her.
Rowan’s stomach clenched at the mental image but Val nodded and scribbled down something on his pad of paper. “Did you speak to Miss Gomez at the hospital later?”
“Just briefly. Hamilton and I tried to question her about Ruiz to see if we could get a lead on him but it was way too soon. She was in bad shape. Deep in shock, in pain and still scared as hell. The only person she seemed to trust was Hamilton
. She wouldn’t let go of his hand.”
Oh, that made Rowan’s heart hurt. That Miss Gomez would reach out to a near stranger for comfort and reassurance after suffering so horrifically at other men’s hands.
“So he stayed with her while the medical staff treated her injuries, but had to leave before FBI and agency officials questioned her. I went in to get him when they arrived,” Malcolm continued.
“Did Miss Gomez say anything of importance to you before you left?” Val asked.
Malcolm nodded. “As we were walking to the door. She said Carlos Ruiz was the man responsible. She’d been investigating him and he’d gone after her to make a statement that he was untouchable. His men killed her entire family while they were having dinner at her parents’ place one night, then took her. She said he came to look at her a few days before we raided the property. And I remember her last words to us exactly. She said, ‘He should have killed me that night with my family. Because now I’m going to bury him’.”
Rowan stared at him, a shiver skittering up her spine. To have that sort of resolve and inner strength in the face of everything she’d gone through… Victoria Gomez was her new hero.
Even Val appeared affected by Malcolm’s words, a slight smile tugging at his mouth. “She said that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, good for her.” Val exchanged a glance with her. Miss Gomez hadn’t told them this. Maybe she didn’t think it was important, or maybe she didn’t remember that chunk of time in the hospital. That was understandable. She’d been medicated, so it was possible.
But it was more powerful testimony they could present to the judge, whether in a trial, or in a victim impact statement should Ruiz want and accept a plea bargain. Rowan and her office had to be prepared for either scenario.
