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The Fugitive's Secret Child

Page 8

by Geri Krotow


  “I know.” She groaned as she pulled away and took a step back. “We have to meet the cops, tell them what’s going on. I can have Corey call their supervisor. What county are we in? Did you see the township?”

  He grasped her shoulders. “No, we absolutely cannot see the police—or rather, they can’t see us. I’m an undercover agent and you’re being chased by ROC. Their connections are far and wide and we don’t know who these officers are.”

  Her stunned expression shook him. Trina might be a US marshal, but she obviously still wanted to believe all cops were good, on the right side. “Trina, we have to get out of here.”

  “Right. They’re still not on this floor—we can walk out of here.” He was touched and annoyed by her concern for him. But she was right—if he jumped out the window, normally an easy move for him, he’d risk blowing everything, as he might not be able to stand back up from the ground.

  “We have to move now. Get the dog. And follow my lead.” This was his turf, staying clandestine in a fully connected world.

  Chapter 6

  Trina’s lips still quivered from Rob’s kiss when he stopped short in the parking lot behind the hotel and pulled her to him. The puppy in her arms wiggled between them. She’d put up no argument as they ran together to the hotel room’s door, cleared the hallway and made their way down the cement steps to the back parking lot.

  “Act like we’re long-lost lovers.”

  His lips were on hers again, but this time it was for show. She could be professional at this. She opened her eyes a slit to see the police cars pulling up to the hotel, sirens blaring and lights flashing in the dimming light. Sometime between the totally unplanned kiss in the bathroom and this strategic gesture, day had faded into dusk.

  “Don’t look at them.” He moved his hand over her waist, her hips, to the fullest part of her ass.

  “Really?” She spoke against his mouth, her lips acting of their own volition, as well as her tongue. Dang, she’d missed how it felt to have Rob’s mouth on hers, their breath one motion in the midst of their raging desire. And it was theirs, for sure. This was something she’d never experienced with another man, no matter how good the sex was. Rob was special, their tie to each other inexplicable.

  He buried his head in her neck and gave her a deliciously moist kiss, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin with exquisite pressure. “Really. They’ll think we’re having a sordid affair. As soon as they’re inside, we’ll take off.”

  Her mind was frantically trying to keep hold of what needed to happen to make the mission successful. But her hormones and emotions were at war with reason, and heat rushed into her cheeks when Rob said “inside.”

  Trina knew there wouldn’t be another kiss after this; she wouldn’t allow it. So why not go along for a bit longer?

  Rob’s lips were on hers again, but after only a second or two he lifted his head, looking past her. “Okay, the coast is clear.” He turned his focus to her. “You all right?”

  “Of course.” She wrenched herself away from him and placed the dog on a patch of grass to relieve himself. Part of her hoped Rob would collapse on the asphalt. How could he kiss her like that and maintain any kind of logical thought process?

  He’s a trained operative. And he was the same man who’d allowed her to think he’d been killed. She wanted to add the fact that he was the father of her son, a son she was raising as a single mother. But as unfair as the entire situation was, she couldn’t accuse Rob of being a derelict dad. He didn’t even know he was a dad.

  * * *

  “You’re awfully quiet.” He spoke from the passenger seat as she drove them to a hotel twenty minutes away, in the opposite direction of where the ROC thought they were headed. The darned dog was on his lap, curled up as if he was the one fighting the bad guys and mentally exhausted.

  “It’s been a full day. And I’m freezing.” Shivers had started to rack her and she pushed the buttons for the heater. “I’m sorry to need heat in the hottest part of the summer.”

  “Hypothermia can set in on the hottest of days. We need to get to the hotel and get your wet clothes off.”

  “Not happening.” Even through her chattering teeth, the tone of her statement was sharper than she’d meant. “I mean, something between us. After the kiss. The kisses. I don’t want to lead you on.”

  “Trust me, that’s the last thing I’d ever expect from you. The leading me on part. As for kissing you, hell, Trina, it’s been five years. We had amazing chemistry when we were together, and that’s not gone away.”

  “We had more than chemistry.” She wasn’t letting him off so easily. “If it was only a physical attraction, you going off the radar by allowing Justin to officially die wouldn’t be such a big deal.”

  “I thought you were married, Trina.” His quiet words weighed heavy with what sounded an awful like pain. Regret.

  “Not good enough, Rob. Even if I’d remarried, was still married, whatever. What we shared deserved more than you walking away when you saw me again.” She fought to keep her words aboveboard, fair. Her heart screamed at her conscience that if she were really fair she’d tell him about their son, how she’d really felt about Rob. How she hadn’t been able to let go for so long.

  “You seem really angry, Trina.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” She spotted the hotel sign and maneuvered to make the left into the parking lot. “You’re correct in that I need to get these clothes off, and into another hot shower. Wait here while I check in.” She mustered as much dignity as one could in soaking-wet clothes and dripping hair and slid out of the SUV. She felt his gaze on her back as she walked into the hotel lobby. Hollywood and sometimes real life allowed for over-the-top, joyous reunions of lovers thought lost or dead. But in her case, seeing that Rob was still alive and as attractive as he’d ever been was pure agony. The sooner she was able to get them both back to Silver Valley, the better.

  * * *

  Rob stared at the muted television from one of two double beds in the much older, run-down hotel. Trina was talking in low murmurs to someone he thought might be her brother. She’d made it clear she wasn’t married, but hadn’t said she’d never gotten married or hooked up with anyone since him. And he hated the part of himself that burned to know if she’d fallen in love with another man.

  “Hey, buddy!” Trina’s voice lifted into pure happiness, and he couldn’t help taking a surreptitious look at her. She was wrapped up under her blankets, her hair dry thanks to the yellowed but still functional wall hair dryer unit in the bathroom. He’d found an extra comforter in the closet and placed it over her. She’d uttered a quick “thanks” and busied herself with calling whomever she was still on the line with.

  “Mommy has to work on something for the next few days. Uncle Nolan and Grandma and Grandpa are going to take care of you. Are you okay with that?”

  Rob though it odd that she asked the kid if he was okay with something that he had no control over. Who did that? A mother who loved her kid is who. Nothing he’d know about, as his years in foster care hadn’t given him a good model of a healthy parent-child bond. His gut soured over the realization that another man had fathered a baby with her. Their relationship when they were both Navy hadn’t progressed to the point of discussing a future that entailed family, but he’d hoped it would. Hell, he’d expected it would. When he and Trina had started seeing each other, during the war, it had changed him. He’d begun to think about life in a totally different way. It was a certainty that he’d have wanted a family with her.

  “Sorry about that. You can turn the volume up if you want.” She stared at the ceiling as she spoke. He clicked the television off.

  “Nothing to apologize for. I take it that was your kid?”

  Silence. He’d wait as long as it took.

  “Yes. Childcare is always tricky, but I’ve been so lucky. My brother got ou
t of the Navy a year or so before me, and my parents are still in Williamsport. Not far from here, actually. Maybe an hour or two west, only two hours from Silver Valley. When I landed the job with the Marshals I was lucky to get one tour in Philadelphia and then moved to this one in Harrisburg. It’s allowed both me and—and my child to settle down. My hours are usually pretty conventional, as I don’t do as much in the field as I used to.”

  “When we worked together I never thought you’d leave flying.”

  “Yeah, well, priorities change once you have a kid to think about. And I can’t blame motherhood for it—I would be bored flying commercial airlines. I need something that’s a little more different on a day-to-day basis. I’m applying for an administrative position with the Marshals, as soon as one opens up in our local office. I don’t want to move again. Not while my son is in school.”

  “Settling down has its benefits, I’m sure.” He wanted to say anything to keep her talking. He loved her voice but even more, any little glimpse into the woman she was today. Regret hammered at his insides more than the pain in his bruised ribs. He’d been so damned inconsolable after he’d seen her in Norfolk.

  “What about you, Rob? Why haven’t you settled down?” She was on her side, facing him. Still hunkered down under layers of blankets, incongruous with the air-conditioning that blasted over his bare chest and barely kept him cool in the hot night. The puppy curled next to her, fast asleep. She’d fed him more of the kibble. They were going to have to do something about that dog. It couldn’t stay with them—it was too risky. It could bark at the wrong moment and give their position away.

  “That’s a good question. I hate to admit it, but I think my head was messed up for a while after the explosion.” He wasn’t going to tell her that memories of her got him through. “I was still in the mode of doing whatever I could to serve my country.”

  “It looks to me like you still are.”

  “Yeah.” He let out a laugh that sounded like a grunt. “But it’s more on my terms. Part-time, if you will.”

  “What do you do when you’re not working?”

  “That’s a good question.” One he wasn’t going to answer, for now. Part of being a Trail Hiker was finding a civilian identity in the community of Silver Valley, so that no suspicion would arise on how an agent earned a living, or where they went when they disappeared on global missions. Rob had pursued a career that would help foster kids and other at-risk youth find their way at a community center for kids with no parental support. He’d earned his master’s degree in social work part-time over the last several years. He wasn’t ready to tell Trina this, though.

  They lay in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Although Rob’s dick seemed to have a mind of its own, with Trina so close. The separate beds and small space between them may as well be a concrete prison wall, though. He sensed she’d created a safe space for her thoughts to inhabit, just as he had. Military training on compartmentalization had its benefits.

  * * *

  Rob’s phone woke him from a deep slumber in which he’d dreamed he had a chance to either work with Trina on a mission or go work with a scary, deadly dude who wouldn’t say what his missions were. The insistent vibration of the device broke through the dream’s cobwebs and he strained to see who was calling at 0415. Claudia Michele, director of Trail Hikers.

  “Claudia.” He lay on his back, prepared to listen.

  “Rob, glad you’re okay. From your GPS and phone I see you’re safely ensconced with Trina Lopez.” There was nothing invisible or unreachable for Trail Hikers. The super secret shadow agency had every technological capability available to any nation on the planet.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We’ve had a development. I hate to ask you to participate with your injuries, but I need you to go in and get one of our agents. She’s stuck up there, with the ROC group you’ve evaded.”

  Rob sat up and swung his legs over the bed. “Do I know her?”

  “No. She’s newer than you, and her background is human trafficking. There’s a corridor of trafficking between New Jersey and Silver Valley, straight through the Poconos. That’s why Vasin was holed up there. We have reason to believe Ivanov is in the vicinity, ensuring this latest effort goes off without a hitch.”

  “I could have told you that.” He didn’t want to say too much within earshot of Trina. He trusted her implicitly but this was about mission integrity—operational security. Other agents’ lives were at stake.

  “Our agent has been posing as the solicitor for underage girls who will be sent to work in strip clubs. They have jobs during the day as domestic help, mostly housekeepers. What ROC hasn’t figured out is that we’ve kept these girls out of the bars. A onetime payment is made to ROC for them, and they don’t follow up.”

  “That’s unusual for them, isn’t it?”

  “In the past, yes. But with the weight of law enforcement coming at them from all angles, they can’t afford to maintain ties to any shipment—be it drugs, weapons, underage girls. They take their cut and take off.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Take Trina Lopez to the nearest bus stop—she’ll get back to Harrisburg on her own. Use the SUV you’ve rented and go back to Vasin’s hideout. There’s a trailer park on the premises.”

  “I saw it.” But it had looked abandoned even to his trained eyes.

  “They moved the girls there three hours ago. Our agent was supposed to pick them up last night but with the recent events Ivanov pulled up all his feelers and ordered the young women and our agent into the park. We’ve overheard conversations that indicated he’s going to issue an order to kill them all.”

  “How many captured and how much time do I have?”

  “Twelve, and you’re already behind by an hour. But don’t go in there until I send the word. Situate yourself within fifteen minutes of the location I’m going to text to you and sit tight.” Claudia ended the connection. She wasn’t one for small talk during an op.

  “What’s the plan?” Trina’s sleepy voice made him pause before he replied.

  “We’re splitting up. I’ve got to report somewhere ASAP. You’re on the next bus to Harrisburg.”

  Trina let out a string of obscenities that made him smile in the early-morning darkness. You could take the woman out of the Navy, apparently, but her Navy vocabulary remained intact.

  “What, you don’t like buses?” He was already putting on his cargo pants, his adrenaline surge masking the pain he knew was still there.

  “There is no bus, Rob. I’m going with you.”

  “Like hell you are.” As he spoke her phone rang.

  “Corey, what’s going on?” He watched her silhouette by the fuzzy light of the bathroom night-light. She nodded, gave one-word responses. Relief mingled with dismay in his gut. Relief that she’d have to listen to her boss, who was obviously telling her what Claudia had just told him. Dismay that he might not see her again. If he was smart, he’d let go of his plan for any more closure, his hours with the counselor be damned. This was about all the closure he could handle.

  “What you don’t get, Corey, is that I’m here, on the ground, and with a man who was with the fugitive I was supposed to pick up. And this man, Rob Bristol, is in no condition to go into an ROC vipers’ nest on his own. We’ve helped with ROC cases before, why not this time?”

  A short pause as Trina listened, then her shocking reply.

  “Fine, Corey. Put me on an official leave status starting now.” She put her phone down and clicked on her nightstand light. Rob was struck by her stunning beauty, but kept it to himself out of self-preservation. He didn’t want her phone slamming against his skull.

  “I’m going with you, Rob. Either we both go rescue the girls, or they get hurt or worse. Your choice.”

  “Your boss told you the whole story, then?”
/>   “Enough to know that this is time-sensitive and we’re the closest, most capably trained law enforcement—” she snorted “—or whatever the hell you are, nearby.”

  He stared at her, knowing that if he agreed to allow her to accompany him, he was putting her life on the line, too. To let her go put his heart on the line, but it might not be life-saving for Trina. Because he knew ROC, and they didn’t give up easily. At the first sign of Trina they’d be all over her like rain in April. Ivanov had to know by now who she was, what she’d been doing on his compound. The security system on the storage building was directly connected to the ROC’s systems headquarters, which meant Trina’s face was plastered probably in a text message to every ROC bad guy within a thousand miles.

  Trina’s life was at stake no matter what Rob did.

  “It’s my mission, my orders.” He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. She had a kid now, for heaven’s sake.

  “I can help you with the girls, Rob. Corey said there’s a dozen or more, smuggled from Ukraine, being prepped to go to Harrisburg. We’re going to need another SUV or two.”

  “My orders, Trina.” She’d fought him when he was a SEAL, too. She’d been the pilot in charge of a support mission and wanted to give him suggestions that he didn’t have time for—his team had already considered all options. Not something he’d expect a non-SEAL to completely comprehend. It’d turned out her concerns had saved the lives of his men during that deadly raid.

  “But—”

  “My orders. Or the bus stop.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  She’d relented. Now Rob had fourteen women to save—twelve young girls, a Trail Hikers agent, and Trina.

  * * *

  “You never thought I was going to get on a bus, did you?” Trina sipped hot coffee with cream from a foam cup as Rob drove back through winding roads and heavily treed countryside. She’d agreed that since it was his mission, he should drive. She understood—it was a way of letting your brain and body know that you were in charge and in need of top performance.

 

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