by Desiree Holt
Desiree Holt
"Everything okay out there?" Gus asked.
John nodded. "Quiet as a tomb. How's our girl?"
"Sleeping. I want to give her as much rest as possible. Any word yet from the boss?"
"He called about an hour ago." John filled his own mug. "Said they have a lot of loose ends but nothing concrete. He sent a team to the prison to interview everyone up there. Especially the people in the infirmary. And he's got Jimmy working on the people in the visitors' logs."
"I'd like to kill the asshole myself," Gus muttered. "Branson and whoever helped him." He took a long swallow of the hot liquid. "Want some breakfast before you turn in?"
"Sure, if you're cooking."
"Keeps me busy." Gus told him, and foraged in the cupboard for pans. He had just cracked eggs into a bowl when his cell rang. Tossing the eggshells in the sink he unclipped the phone from his belt and held it to his ear.
"D'Amato."
"It's Jimmy."
"Got anything yet?" There was a long pause, enough to make Gus nervous.
"Jimmy, that's not a hard question. Just a yes or no answer."
"Not exactly." The man's voice sounded strange. "Are you alone?"
Gus looked over his shoulder. John had disappeared somewhere, maybe to check the camera feed. "For the moment. What the hell is wrong?"
"I came across some stuff while tracking down the visitors from the logs." Another pause. "Gus, something isn't tracking right here."
"What do you mean?" Gus tensed, leaving the eggs for the moment.
"The names on Branson's log? None of them are real."
Gus nearly dropped the phone. "What the fuck? What do mean they're not real?"
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Jimmy was almost whispering now. "I mean, there are signatures on the logs and even some video footage, but the names lead to nothing. They're all phonies."
Gus tightened his grip on the cell, nearly crushing it. "If that's true, this is more than a couple of Virgil Branson's thugs figuring out a way to break him loose. You know that."
"Roger that. It means there's a bad apple at the prison."
Gus swallowed back a surge of bile. "Or at the office."
More silence. "Gus, I'd hate to think the latter is true. We put our lives on the line every day with the people we work with."
John had come back into the room now and was looking at Gus questioningly.
"Problems?"
Gus shook his head. "Nothing we don't already know. Or to be more exact, more things that we don't have answers for. Breakfast will be ready in a few if you want to grab a shower first."
When John headed for the bathroom, Gus turned his attention back to the call.
"Jimmy, if you're right, that means we can trust each other and that's it."
"Not even Dean," Jimmy agreed, "although I don't think our fearless leader is on our suspect list."
"Right now, much as I hate to say it, everyone's on that list. You'll keep digging, right?"
"Yeah. I'm going to review the visitors' tapes myself as well as call the warden. And start looking at everyone here in the office to see if I can find a connection to Branson."
"Keep your head down," Gus warned him.
"I actually decided to go home and work from there. I can get into the files I need from my computer."
"Jimmy, don't hack the system," Gus warned. "They'll find your cyber fingerprints."
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"Trust me, buddy, I know what I'm doing. And getting caught at anything isn't on my agenda. But if someone in our office is connected with Virgil Branson, that means we didn't really get the whole story out at his trial."
"True enough," Gus agreed. "We never found out how he gets his so-called clients here under the radar and how he gets the women out. Or moves them around."
"Right. We just focused on the operation here in San Antonio. All right. You watch your back, okay?"
"Same goes."
Gus disconnected the call. Replacing the phone in the holster on his belt, he turned his attention back to breakfast. John would be out of the bathroom shortly and Gus needed to pull himself together to make sure he didn't let anything slip, do or say anything to give John a hint of what was going on.
He thought about asking for a replacement on the night watch but knew that would look too suspicious. He'd just have to figure out how to handle that when he was asleep. Too bad he couldn't have Jimmy here but the other agent had work to do. Without him Gus might never figure out how this thing had blown up in their faces. If there was one person he trusted it was Jimmy. They were friends from college who'd applied to the FBI together, gone through training at Quantico together, and managed to get assigned to the same field office. But it pained him to think that any of the other men and women he worked with could be mixed up in this. Especially his boss, Dean Barton. But he'd learned a very long time ago that people were often not what they seemed. Right now the only people he trusted were Jimmy, Anya and himself.
* * * * *
The day had dragged on interminably, or so it seemed to Anya. Gus was jittery as a caged tiger, although he tried his best to conceal it. She was sure something new had come up, although no matter how many times she asked him, he just kept denying it. 38
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He exchanged several phone calls with Jimmy, all of which he conducted in a low voice, often even walking out of the room to talk.
"Don't keep me out of the loop," she finally told him, catching him out on the patio just ending a call.
"I'm not, darlin'. I promise you, when there's something to know, you'll be the first."
But he didn't quite look at her when he said it and her stomach lurched with anxiety. He took the time to show her how the security cameras worked, where they were placed, where the sensors were located and where the electronics controlling all of them were. Everything looked okay, but she couldn't get rid of the sense of unease that niggled at her.
Finally she asked him the question no one had been willing to answer up until now.
"How did Virgil actually make his escape? Obviously he couldn't just walk out. Not even from the infirmary."
Gus had just poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. Now he fixed one for her and sat down at the kitchen table with her.
"It appears someone--one of the visitors we're checking on--somehow brought something in to him that he could use to make himself sick. When they rushed him into the infirmary he was left alone with the nurse and one guard. Jimmy thinks both of them might be involved. It's the only thing that explains how he got out of the hospital so easily."
She wrinkled her forehead. "What do you mean?"
"They had to be the ones to call for the fake ambulance and let them take him out on the gurney."
"I thought Mr. Barton said he was sending someone to the prison to talk to them,"
she pointed out.
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Gus nodded. "He did, but he got nowhere. They claim they made the usual call for an ambulance and that's it. Only the telephone logs don't show an outgoing call to the source the prison uses and neither the guard nor the nurse is saying anything else. After the first visit from the agents they lawyered up and that's that."
Anya ran her finger around the rim of her mug. "Does that mean we'll never find out anything? Especially where Virgil's gone to and if he knows where I am?"
"Darlin'." Gus reached across the table. "We'll find out. I promise you. And there's no way he can learn where you are." He gave her a lopsided grin. "Besides, how can you worry with me here to protect you?"
She tried to busy herself the rest of the day, but television held no interest for her nor could she concentrate on any of the books in the bookcase. Whoever had set this house up had taken care of everything except how to control her fear and put her mind at rest.
At dinner time John made an appearance and Gus grilled steaks for all of the
m while Anya made a salad. At least it gave her something to do. She insisted on cleaning up while John and Gus got ready to switch shifts. Finally it was late enough that she could wander into the bedroom, hoping tonight she'd be able to sleep. She had just pulled off her jeans and t-shirt and headed for the bathroom when the door opened and Gus' presence filled the room.
"I was just going to take a shower," she told him. "I thought it might help me relax and sleep better."
He came up behind her, settled his hands at her waist and bent his head to nibble at her earlobe. "I think I have a better prescription for relaxing you."
"Oh?" She leaned back into him. "And what might that be?"
"Let's take it in the shower and I'll show you."
Anya tossed her bra and panties onto her other clothes while Gus stripped and tossed his own clothes aside. He strode in front of her into the bathroom, turning on the 40
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shower and adjusting the spray. When the water was warm enough to satisfy him, he lifted Anya up and stepped into the big shower with her. She slid down his body to stand in front of him and looked up at him.
His eyes had darkened to a deep chocolate and tiny lights of amber danced in the irises. Hunger deepened the lines of his face. When his mouth came down to hers she lifted her face to meet him, her lips slightly parted. Cupping her face in his big palms, he sucked lightly at her lower lip, pulling it gently and licking it with the tip of his tongue.
Heat shot through her, the walls of her cunt tingling and her nipples straining to press into his hard-muscled chest. He nibbled and sucked on her lip until every part of her body seemed to be on fire and her legs trembled. She gripped his upper arms, loving the feel of his skin as the water sluiced over it. When his tongue swept inside her mouth she met it with her own, dueling with him, sucking on it, pulling it deep inside the wet cavern. His hands slid up her ribs and around to cup her breasts. Thumbs chafed her already aching nipples. Anya pressed her body to his, the thickness of his cock pushing against her belly, searing her with its fiery touch.
Anya slipped one hand beneath him to wrap her fingers around his thick shaft, stroking it up and down as she'd done the night before, wringing a groan from deep in his throat. He bit down on her tongue and dragged his teeth across its surface before leaving her mouth to trail watery kisses the length of her jaw and down her neck. She rubbed her thumb over the velvety head of his cock, pressing lightly into the slit. Gus rocked his hips into her touch as he kissed his way down her neck to the pulse at her throat and down the valley between her breasts. Without warning he moved her hand away from him and lifted her to stand on the built-in bench. Dropping to his knees, he nudged her thighs apart and plunged his tongue through her wet curls to the already throbbing lips of her pussy. Anya had to 41
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brace herself on his shoulders as his very clever tongue plunged and licked and lapped, leaving no part of her cunt untouched.
She shook with need as tremors raced through her, fingernails digging into Gus'
shoulders as she sought to stay upright. The climax began to build low in her belly and she threw her head back, waiting for it to overtake her. But as she hung on the edge, Gus pulled back and abruptly turned her around. His fingers wrapped around hers as he raised her arms and placed her hands flat against the wall.
"Don't move," he rasped. "Stay just like that."
Anya closed her eyes and leaned into the wall, still shaking, and in a moment she felt Gus' strong hands rubbing lather into her neck and back muscles. She shivered as his fingers massaged and rubbed and worked out kinks she didn't even know she had. Then his hands moved to her ankles, rubbing and massaging, sweeping the length of her legs up and down, fingers just brushing at the slit beneath her curls. Gus put his lips close to her ear. "Take a deep breath, darlin'. I promise you this is going to feel real good."
His large hands palmed her buttocks, rubbing and kneading, before moving to rub the lather into the cleft between the cheeks. His fingers moved up and down, rubbing the length of the narrow valley, each time passing over the tight muscle of her anus. And each time she shivered, the pulse in her cunt beating heavily, an icy heat racing though her.
Do it!
She wanted to shout the words. Wanted to feel at least his fingers inside her. To embrace the darkly erotic feeling she knew was waiting for her just out of reach. And then he did it, pushing one finger past that clasping muscle, sliding the slickcoated digit into her rectum in a slow, steady glide. She sucked in her breath and tightened around him.
"Easy," he crooned. "Breathe easy, darlin'. This will make you feel really, really good."
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Anya sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, and as she did Gus slipped another finger in beside the first. He moved them, scissoring them, stretching the very tight tissues, the movement of those fingers sending shards of fiery heat directly to her cunt. She pressed her face into the water-slicked wall, her breasts heaving against the tiles as Gus probed deeper and harder.
One of his hands snaked around to her front and spread lather in circles over her breasts, down her stomach, into her curls and finally between the lips of her pussy. And all the time his clever fingers moved in and out of her rectum with a steady stroke. This time she didn't feel the climax building. It hit her with no warning, shaking her like a leaf in a fall breeze, her legs trembling, every muscle in her body clenching. Gus finger-fucked her ass and her cunt with coordinated movements, drawing out her pleasure, carrying her higher and higher until she was sure there was no place else to go.
While she was still shaking and spasming Gus withdrew both hands and spun her around.
"Noooo," she wailed, hands flailing at him.
"It's all right." His voiced was thick and husky. "Hold on."
Her eyes were closed but she heard the tearing of foil, the snap of latex and then Gus was lifting her and impaling her on his rock-hard cock.
"Wrap your legs around me," he urged.
She locked her ankles at the small of his back and her arms around his neck. His mouth took hers while his tongue thrust inside. And then he began to move, rocking his hips, tongue moving in and out of her mouth in the same rhythm his shaft moved in and out of her body. The orgasm that hadn't quite finished devouring her roared back to life stronger than ever. Gus' body stiffened, his hands tightened on her and he smashed his mouth against hers again as his own release consumed him. She was tossed into a maelstrom, spinning out of control. Every part of her body quaking and 43
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straining, Gus pounding into her again and again. She could do nothing but hang on for the ride.
Only the water turning cool shocked her into an awareness of where she was and what was happening. There wasn't a muscle in her body that didn't feel as if it had been stretched out and softened like tempered steel. She was sure if she tried to stand on her own she fall on her face.
Gus buried his face in her shoulder for a long time. At last he used what was left of the hot water to shampoo her hair, fingertips massaging her scalp as they'd done with her body. When they were both rinsed off and goose bumps were finally popping out on her skin, Gus turned the water off, lifted her out of the shower and wrapped her in a big bath towel. He tried himself off quickly before turning his attention to her. His hands were gentle as he dried her, blotting the water from her hair and her skin. He even pulled a hair dryer and a brush out of the vanity cupboard and took the time to blow-dry her hair, all the time murmuring soothing words to her. When he carried her into the bedroom and placed her gently on the bed, she was sure a bowl of gelatin had more substance than she did.
Gus climbed in behind her and pulled her tight against him, his arm around her waist and his hand palming her breast. Anya sighed contentedly, almost--but not quite--feeling safe and secure. Gus' gun on the night on the nightstand, however, reminded her that the nightmare was far from over.
* * * *
*
Because of Jimmy's phone call, Gus slept very lightly. He could reach his gun with little effort and his cell phone lay on the nightstand next to it. At first he thought it was the phone that woke him and he came instantly alert. But when he reached over Anya to pick it up, the screen was dark and the phone was neither vibrating nor ringing at the low volume he'd set it to.
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Being careful not to disturb Anya, he slid out of bed and yanked on his jeans and tshirt. He tiptoed over to the bedroom door and turned the knob silently, easing the door open just a crack. He stood in the darkness listening carefully, wondering what exactly had awakened him. Why the hell were all the lights out? And where the hell was John?
He moved silently into the hallway, closing the door carefully so the snick of the lock wouldn't carry. Hugging the wall he made his way to the living room, his gun firm in his grip. The light from the television screen flickered in the darkness as images danced across it. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he looked around to see if John had fallen asleep on the couch, or in the big recliner chair. If he had, Gus planned to chew his ass out good. The night sentry wasn't supposed to sleep on the job. But John was nowhere to be seen.
Still moving like a stealthy cat, Gus checked the dining room, the kitchen, the little room they used for a study where the electronics were set up. Nothing. No John. No sound. The itch that Gus always got on the back of his neck when something was wrong was acting up now as if he'd fallen into a bed of fire ants. The monitor in the study was still working, the screen divided into quadrants, the pages constantly changing as the views from the cameras were fed into it. Gus scanned them quickly, looking for some sign of activity but again there was nothing to see. The yards front and back looked clear. Nothing was moving. Damn! Something woke him up and he wasn't giving up until he figured out what. And where John had disappeared to.
Hugging the wall again, he carefully slid open the door leading to the back porch. As he did so, something fell inside the house and landed at his feet. He reached down, thinking it was a bundle of something, only to find John Randolph's body draped over his feet.
