Although he hated to ditch the truck, it had to be done. He managed to trade it for some fast cash just outside the border patrol, canceled the registration as he walked across the border on foot, getting through easily thanks to some creative passporting. Found himself a shitty motel room, and now he had a lot of work to do. First order of business was making contact with Chambers, then staying alive was running a really close second.
At least now they knew who was fucking with them, but that wouldn’t put a stop to it. Whether or not Crystal wanted to shut them down or simply kill them remained to be seen, but either way, Dylan had his work cut out for him.
Reid got his CO’s Where the fuck are you? text, and ignored it. But he couldn’t ignore Dylan’s call, which came about twenty minutes later as he was headed to the restaurant where Teddie had originally met with Chambers.
“Ya.”
“You need to get out of there,” Dylan growled. “Decoy’s not a good look on you.”
“Safest for everyone,” Reid said, well aware of the potential sacrifice he was making on Kell’s behalf—and Dylan’s too.
“When does your leave end?”
“Six days.”
Dylan swore, but Reid didn’t bother to. He’d used up all his allotted curses for the century on Kell.
“I’ll get it done, D,” he promised. “You heard from him?”
“No.”
Shit. “Any leads on Crystal?”
“Last seen in Mexico.”
“Good.” Let the fucker come for him.
“Jesus, Reid, just try to stay out of trouble,” Dylan said.
“You realize I came back here to create some, right?” Reid reminded him, and Dylan began to curse again, a fluent string that lasted at least two minutes. The familiar gesture was oddly comforting, as if nothing had changed, even though it felt like everything was about to. “I gotta go—got some female trouble on my tail.”
He hung up on Dylan’s curses, which was a shame, since he always managed to learn a few new ones from him—and in varied languages as well—and waited for the woman to catch up.
She’d been on his six for the last ten minutes and he’d let it happen, because he wanted to know what the fuck she wanted.
Plus, she was hot.
He lost her around a corner to see if she was decent at tracking. And she was, because she caught up to him about five minutes later, while he waited against a wall outside an open bar, leaning there like he didn’t have a care in the world.
She sidled up to him, her bright blue eyes never leaving his own. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“I’m not interested in company tonight,” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Besides, I never need to pay for it.”
For a brief second, she looked horribly offended and then she leaned next to him, pulled out her badge. “U.S. Marshals.”
“And you’re trying to make extra money?”
Fuck a damned duck—he’d thought he was done with marshals for the day. Well, well, this would make things interesting, because even though her badge was Texas and she had no jurisdiction here, the Mexican police would work with her unofficially. They backed each other up, since they were frequently after the same fugitives.
She was hot as hell, take-his-breath-away hot, and she was also the law, which was a big freakin’ bummer, since Reid typically didn’t like to date women in his own profession. Not that he actually dated—it was more like sleep around, don’t get attached, because that was way easier.
“You’re quite funny.”
“So I’ve been told.” He looked inside the bar, which housed a few locals, who were already half in the bag, judging by the bad karaoke. “Up for a drink?”
“I thought you didn’t want company.”
“I said I didn’t need to pay for it.”
“Who says you won’t?” she asked, and he bowed a little to her, because nothing turned him on like a sharp woman. “What’s your name?”
“Reid.”
“Reid what?”
“Reid Cormier.”
“I’m U.S. Marshal Grier Vanderhall.”
“You like that marshal part a lot, don’t you?”
“I earned it.”
“True that.” He studied the badge she still held in her hand by taking her wrist and holding it up. “Not a bad picture either.”
He memorized the ID number for future reference, because while this was all chill right now, it was going to go badly very soon. He hoped she wouldn’t take him in for questioning tonight, since he still needed to find exactly where Chambers did his business and get in on it. He suspected all it would take was a little scratch thrown around.
“If it’s a no go for the drink, I think I’ll head in and have one by myself.” And slip out the back.
“I’d rather you not go anywhere just yet—I have some questions for you.”
Reid was going to make this fun. And she meant fun in the most unfun sense of the word.
Grier wanted to strangle him, among other things. But she needed to tread lightly. Beyond an informant, who’d been reliable until this point but gave her no indication of who he was or why he was involved in this, she had absolutely no proof that Reid had been anywhere near his friend Kell when Teddie was abducted.
“Why did you give my men the run-around earlier and then leave your truck at the border?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reid said.
He’d led her marshals on a wild-goose chase for a good six hours. There was no record of him crossing the border and she still had guards there on the lookout for Kell and Teddie, although she suspected they weren’t heading this way at all. “Why did you leave your car at the border in Texas?”
“I’m aiming to live a simpler life. It’s a new Zen thing I’m trying out.”
This boy must’ve given his mama hell. “Cut the shit, Reid. I want to know where Teddie is.”
He frowned a little. Looked semi-adorable doing so. All-American, blond, blue-eyed, built like a football player, and his hands were big. Capable. “Not familiar with anyone by that name, ma’am.”
Ma’am. Ouch. “Why are you lying?”
“You hurt my feelings.”
She caught the slight Louisiana drawl in his last statement. “If I catch you with her …”
“You’ll haul me in?” He opened his hands. “It’s not going to happen. But what did this Teddie do?”
“She’s in witness protection—you know that. You also know she’s wanted in conjunction with a shooting and a murder, although that’s possibly in self-defense. And your friend kidnapped her. Or maybe it was all a show.”
He shrugged and let his gaze wander away from her like he honestly was bored with the entire conversation. “None of this is my problem, trust me.”
“I don’t. You’re lying to me, sugar.”
“I like it when you call me pet names,” he drawled, and my Lord, he sent shivers through her, and here she thought she was quite immune to charm in all its pretty packages.
But this man had the combo of being good-looking and highly trained. He could probably kill her with his pinky.
Yeah, there were those shivers again. “I’d like you better if you told the truth.”
“No, you just think you would. Trust me on that.”
He was probably right, but still. “I’m going to have to put a tail on you.”
“I won’t mind you on my six. ’Course, I’d rather be on yours, but no one ever said life was fair.”
“I know you’re military.”
He didn’t say anything but a small grin played on his lips, like he didn’t care if she had that information.
“Maybe if I contact the DoD and show your picture around, they’ll be interested in helping me.”
“Maybe. They’re pretty busy these days with the wars and all,” he pointed out, like he was being helpful.
“I’m too busy for more of your crap.”
“So take me
in. Interrogate me.”
She pictured him all bound up, and if that happened, she would not be talking. Well, no more than saying his name repeatedly and very loudly. “You could just share what you know.”
“Out of the goodness of my heart?”
“Yes.”
“My heart’s a wicked place, Grier.”
“I’ll bet,” she muttered.
She had no real evidence that warranted taking him in, beyond the fact that he knew Kell. She’d been monitoring his cell phone and no calls to Kell had come in or gone out, but all that meant was he was using a throwaway.
She could search the estate he’d supposedly been staying at again, of course. She’d already been through his financials, but all that seemed to be on the up and up. “Give me something, Reid.”
He looked her square in the eye. “I’d give up the ghost, Grier. Kell’s too good—you’ll never find him. But she’s safer with him than she’d ever be with you.”
“Because he’s former Delta?”
“Because he’s in love with her,” he said bluntly before pushing off the wall. “See you around, sweetheart.”
Well, she couldn’t say he’d never given her anything.
CHAPTER
11
Pretending to take Teddie hostage had been the only way out. It had allowed him and Reid to split up and now they could claim to have no knowledge of the other’s plans.
The marshals would attempt to follow Kell back into Mexico. Except they’d really be following Reid and the wrong car crossing the border, which would make Kell’s life easier.
Once back in Juarez, Reid would put the plan to catch Chambers in motion. Reid was also responsible for keeping an eye out for Crystal, as was Dylan.
And although Kell hated to leave Reid alone, he knew his friend was up for the job. Once Chambers was taken care of and the evidence collected, Kell would untangle the mess with the marshals.
With Teddie’s help, they made the drive without stopping beyond quick bathroom and fast-food breaks. He kept the news of the hurricane to a minimum on the radio because he could actually feel Teddie tense up when she listened to it.
It took them thirty hours altogether to get to Riley’s house in Florida, because Kell was driving the speed limit, so as not to draw attention to himself. Besides, even with the back-road shortcuts he used, the traffic was still snarled.
But at this point, his was one of the only cars traveling into the area.
“We’re lucky—we’ve made it just in time. In a few hours, they’ll close down this road and stop traffic from coming in.”
“Lucky,” she echoed, stared at the darkening sky and paled.
“Stay with me, Teddie,” he told her. “I’m going to get us someplace safe within the next half hour.”
“A hotel?”
“Better,” he said. Finally, he pulled off the main road, toward a sturdy-looking house, and up a slight incline into a garage that locked behind him. “This is a friend’s house. We’re far enough away from the ocean that we won’t have surge. It’s new construction, built to withstand the brunt of storms.”
Add to that the shutters a caretaker had already locked in place and Kell felt they were in good shape.
They’d fly up to New York as soon as they could—or drive, or whatever, and they’d hide along the way. But waiting out the storm here was one of Dylan’s strokes of genius.
Of course, not knowing about Teddie’s storm phobia had been a slight fly in the ointment, but holing up in Riley’s house was as safe as they could be under the circumstances.
They were not only hiding Teddie from the marshals, but Kell from Crystal, and for at least the next seventy-two hours, he and Teddie would both be unreachable.
He used the code to open the door and went in, with Teddie behind him, to check the place out.
It was cool and quiet and dark. He switched on the lights—no one from the street would be able to see them, thanks to the shutters. Riley had a generator here as well, so they’d be good for quite a while.
Now, if he could just get more than a minimal text from Reid, he’d feel better. The man had to be wreaking havoc with the marshals—it was what he did best and he was often the Delta sent out to cause such disturbances so the rest of the team could work their magic.
Reid was a natural for sure.
Teddie was pacing around, unable to relax as the storm began to pick up a bit. She switched on the TV and he hoped she’d watch a movie instead of The Weather Channel, but he had a feeling that was a pipe dream.
“They’re doing evacuations of this area,” she called out to him when he went toward the kitchen to call Cam.
“Not mandatory, just a recommendation. I doubt the storm’ll hit landfall as more than a Cat One. We’ll be fine,” he told her, and she harrumphed. He pretended not to hear it, opened his phone and noticed he didn’t have any signal. Riley had to have a sat-phone in this place somewhere, and he snuck past Teddie, who was glued to the TV, and went to search the house for it.
Teddie remained rooted on the floor by the large TV, watching The Weather Channel like it was her lifeline, even though it was currently scaring the hell out of her.
The wind howled through the shuttered house. Kell was in the kitchen trying to get a signal and she wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She dragged a few pillows off the couch and lay down on the floor.
She might’ve fallen asleep for a little while, only to wake to the sounds of a vicious whistle of wind. It sounded angry and she swore the house shook a little.
But the lights and the TV were still on and Kell was still in the kitchen and they would be all right.
The reporter was talking about gusts of wind up to seventy miles per hour in their area. The perky woman trying to stand out in the middle of a beach warned her not to go outside.
“Don’t worry about that, honey,” Teddie muttered. And she was starting to lie down again when the effects of the storm began to really hit the house.
The TV fizzled out first. She saw it as the last vestige of normalcy before the world ended and felt the panic rise in the back of her throat. She tried to distract herself, until the lights went out a few minutes later, leaving the room dark, although not pitch-black.
Not yet.
She opened her mouth to call for Kell, but no sound came out. She was entirely too focused on the way the wind whipped the palm trees, how the fat raindrops had begun to pelt the house with bulletlike precision.
And then there was a loud sound, like an engine starting up, and seconds after that the lights came back on. They were dimmer than before, but it was still a very welcome sight. Literally.
“Teddie, hey.” Kell was behind her with a battery-powered lantern he placed on the floor next to her and then he wrapped her in a blanket before settling in next to her.
She pulled the blanket more tightly around her. “Sorry” was all she could manage without fear that her voice would break.
“Nothing to apologize for,” he told her. “The generator should work through the whole thing—the lanterns are for just in case. I guess you weren’t exaggerating when you said you don’t like storms.”
“I thought I’d be okay.” She was so far from that, it was laughable.
He moved away a bit to rifle in a low cabinet on one end of the couch. He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and held it up. “This could help.”
“I don’t really drink.”
“Then it’ll definitely help.” He handed her the bottle after opening it, and she took it hesitantly, the scent strong enough to make her almost refuse it.
Still, she took a sip, bit back a cough as the amber liquid burned all the way down to her stomach. She let it settle and then took a longer drink and then another, until Kell liberated the bottle from her and took a long swig of his own.
“There’s plenty of food we can eat. I’ll manually light the pilots on the stove,” he said.
“Do you cook?”
“
Not well,” he admitted.
“I can help.” The edge was definitely off, but the fear of what the storm would bring remained.
“Good.” He grinned. When he did that, he looked about seventeen. She could almost picture him and Reid in Alaska, at the foster home. On a crab boat.
“I hate that you and Reid are fighting,” she said suddenly.
“It’s not because of you.”
“I know. But I’m not making it any easier.”
Kell didn’t answer right away, took another slug from the bottle. “Maybe you are and you just don’t know it.”
She didn’t push for an explanation, let his words sink in for a few moments, allowing the warm fuzzies from both the alcohol and his statement wash over her.
“Would that be all right with you?” he asked finally.
Instead of answering with words, she leaned in, hesitating for only a second before kissing him, a sweet gentle kiss on the mouth first. And then she lingered a kiss on his cheek while her hand cupped the nape of his neck.
When she pulled back, he asked, “Are you trying to heal me?”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“I think … you could heal me.”
“Is this the JD talking?”
“Maybe it gave me the courage I needed.”
“You’ve already got that, in spades,” he told her. She wanted to kiss him again, but then she swore the house began to shake and she nearly jumped into his lap.
Once fully there, she did kiss him.
Kell needed to take all Teddie’s clothes off. Immediately. Right here, on the floor by the couch as the storm began its lash of the coast. She’d wiggled against him, held his shoulders like she’d never let him go, and he’d like to think it was more lust than fear driving her.
He nuzzled against her neck, sucking the soft skin there and making her squirm more as his hands went under her shirt. But suddenly, she was intent on taking off his clothes, which could be just as fun. She tugged his shirt over his head, shifted so she could help him out of his jeans, which he somehow managed to kick off while she remained mostly on top of him, and then her hand circled his cock.
Night Moves: A Shadow Force Novel Page 16
