by Misty Evans
Rubbing the back of her neck, Ruby continued on to her apartment door. The carpet in the hallway was worn, her door labeled 7. She hadn’t brought a purse so she dug the key from inside her bra.
Her fingers hit something out of place.
She grabbed it and pulled it out.
A piece of paper with a cell number written in Jax’s heavy, solid handwriting.
Damn it all to hell. How had he managed that? Slipping his number in her bra while they were in that dark hallway?
She chuckled in spite of herself. The former SEAL had some skills. Even his tailing of her car hadn’t been too shabby. She was a CIA agent, after all. She’d had as much, if not more, training than he had on evading the enemy.
Shaking her head, she let herself into the apartment, tossing her key and wig on the table just inside the door.
The place was cooler than outside, but not by much. She turned on a living room lamp and headed for the fridge.
Standing in the pool of light from the refrigerator, she considered her options.
Water or water.
Crap, she’d forgotten to buy wine again. Hell, at this point, she’d settle for Kool-Aid. Anything cold and wet would do.
The refrigerator’s motor kicked in, reminding her it was probably an original to the place. Hot air seeped out from under the door, blasting her toes.
Closing the fridge door, she opened the freezer. Maybe the ice cream fairy had taken pity on her and brought her some double chocolate chunk.
Nope. Her fairy, the bitch, had let her down again. No chocolate ice cream. Just ice cubes.
The cold blasting her face felt damn good though. After her encounter with Jax, she needed to crawl into a freezer to cool off.
Too bad she couldn’t stand in front of the fridge all night. A cold shower would have to do. Taking an ice cube from the tray, she held it against the pulse at the base of her throat, closed the freezer door, and turned around.
Her heart froze and it had nothing to do with the cold trickle of water from the cube in her hand. In the shadow of the kitchen doorway, backlit from the living room lamp, stood a broad man.
In his hand, he held a knife.
GOD, SHE WAS beautiful.
Elliot Hayden stood for a moment in the doorway and stared at the woman in front of him. The kitchen was dark except for the sliver of moonlight coming through the tiny window over the sink. It sliced across her dark hair, startled eyes, and the pale skin of her neck.
He’d counted on her to free him from prison. She’d hadn’t been able to get the job done, and he’d taken matters into his own hands.
Her hesitation lasted only a second. Blood red fingernails tightened on the ice cube. She drew back and hurled it straight at his face.
Instinct made him flinch, the ice cube sailing past his ear and hitting the wall. “Ruby, it’s me.”
She already had her gun out—a pixy of a thing—and she trained it on him. The tiny, black weapon appeared harmless but in his partner’s hands, he knew it could take off both of his balls with one shot. Her face screwed up as she held him in the gun’s sight.
Her voice came out suspicious, incredulous. “Elliot?”
He raised his hands in the air in a show of surrender. “You were expecting Santa Claus?”
The gun lowered. She looked as if she were seeing a ghost. “What…what are you doing here? How did you get… It’s true, isn’t it?”
“What’s true?”
“You broke out of prison.”
“You really think a low-security facility like Moretto could hold me?”
Her hands hung at her hips, the peashooter tapping against her thigh. “I was working on getting the evidence we need to get you out legitimately.”
Leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, he chuckled. “This isn’t exactly the homecoming I fantasized about.”
She reached over and flipped on the light over the sink. Her gaze slid over him and the stained and torn clothes he wore. “You thought I’d be happy to see you?”
He’d been masquerading as a homeless man and it didn’t surprise him she hadn’t recognized him at first. His face was covered with dirt and a few days’ worth of beard. The clothes he wore, he’d stolen out of a homeless person’s supply. They were a size too big and covered in grime.
The disguise had worked well. He’d added a cane and a limp to his public appearances. Amazing how people looked right through you when you were one of the discarded.
He blinked to adjust his eyes to the harsh light. “Free of a faded orange jumpsuit and chains? Yeah, I guess I did think you’d be happy to see me.”
Her shoulders drooped. She stared at the floor for a moment, wrestling with her conscience no doubt, then walked over to him. “I am glad to see you, you idiot.”
He laid the knife on the counter and opened his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
She went into the circle of his arms and he hugged her. They stayed that way for a long moment.
Partners. They’d been through everything together from the moment they’d both joined the Agency. The Farm, their first assignment, months in foreign countries under false identities, all of it. When her grandmother had passed away—a woman Ruby had been very close to—he’d been by her side back here in the States the whole time. When he’d broken his leg during a rough mission in Germany, she’d showed up for every one of his rehab treatments to egg him on and make him strong again. They’d been inseparable, right up until their last mission.
That bastard Sloan. He’d taken her away from him. Made Ruby doubt him.
He’ll pay.
“Why did you do it, El?” she asked softly, her head on his shoulder. “I know it’s taken longer than expected, but I would have gotten the evidence eventually to get you freed.”
Eventually. What a useless word. “Jimmy Shine.”
She reared back, searched his face. “Jimmy Shine? What about him?”
The fellow CIA operative had gone Hollywood a year ago and ended up getting his hands slapped by his former employer when they’d exposed the fact Shine was disclosing classified information to reporters. He’d ended up in Moretto Federal Prison too. “He’s my new cell mate.”
“You’re kidding.”
Elliot shook his head, toyed with a strand of her hair. “It was a calculated move. The Agency wanted him to take me out. I couldn’t even close my eyes for fear Shine would shank me while I slept.”
Confusion clouded her features. “I can see him wanting revenge for himself, but why would the Agency tell him to take you out?”
He grabbed her shoulders gently. For all of her skills and talents, she still was innocent when it came to the type of betrayal they were dealing with. Unfortunately, he couldn’t divulge just how deep that betrayal might run. “Think, Ruby. They believe your boyfriend Sloan. They think I killed Abdel and was selling secrets. I know too much. You know too much. About Marrakech, about the Moroccan 5. I didn’t realize they would go to any lengths to keep us quiet, but they will, Ruby That’s why I came here—to get you. The Agency plans to dispose of us both. We have to go dark. Disappear. For good.”
She broke his hold and stepped back. He could see her calculating mind hashing over the logic, the options. “First of all, Jaxon Sloan is not my boyfriend, and secondly, what does the Moroccan 5 have to do with this? That mission was closed eighteen months ago.”
“All of our previous missions are a political land mine.” He needed her help. Needed to get her out of here, out of Chicago, and definitely away from Sloan. That guy was probably in on all of this. “You need to trust me. Grab your go-bag and let’s hit the road. I’ll tell you everything once we’re away from here.”
Another step back. “I’m not leaving. I’m close to getting in with Little Gus, and he can find Deuce for us. You told me if we find Deuce, he can help me clear your name.”
“Deuce is in the wind, you know that. And his word won’t hold up against Jaxon Sloan’s. You know that too.”
>
“But you said…”
“I only told you to track Deuce down to give you hope.” Couldn’t she see that? He hated the hurt in her eyes, the hopelessness. “The only way to get the US government to drop the charges against me is if your boyfriend renounces his testimony. He won’t, but it doesn’t matter. The Agency is after us, regardless. Homeland, too. They’ve deemed you and I dangerous. I had to come and get you.”
Her tone was flat. “What does this have to do with the Moroccan 5?”
Should he tell her? Maybe if he gave her something, she’d give a little too. “Al-Safari. I turned him.”
“You what?”
“I turned him into an asset when we captured M5. He was working for me in Marrakech.”
Her brain made quick work of the fact he’d lied to her. That he was still not telling her the meat of the story. He waited for her to slap him, to yell at him. Instead, she stayed emotionless. “Doing what exactly?”
No wonder the Colonel loved her as much as Elliot did. Their boss and his training had turned Ruby into the perfect spy. “I’ll fill you in once we’re out of here and somewhere safe.”
“Did this have to do with finding Mohammed Izala?”
He nodded.
“You lied to me?”
“It went deeper than Izala.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing, waiting.
“I was under orders.”
Her expression went hard. “You should go, Elliot.”
What? Didn’t she understand? “You’re coming with me, right?”
A shake of her head. “I’m going to find the evidence that clears your name and I will use it to get Jaxon to renounce his testimony, but I’m not going on the run with you. What kind of life would that be? Always running, always looking over our shoulders.” Another shake. “I won’t do it. I will clear your name and then, by God, I will hunt down Mohammed Izala and bring him to justice.”
“Ruby.” He reached for her, but she angled away from him, coming into contact with the fridge. “I can’t leave you alone. They’ll kill you. You have to come with me, and you can’t take on Izala on your own.”
Her eyes narrowed. He could practically see steam coming out her ears. “El, you know I love you. You’re the older brother I never had, but I will not go on the run with you.”
Anger and disappointment warred in the pit of his stomach. Brother? He’d never wanted to be her brother, couldn’t she see that? She would never understand what he’d done in Marrakech or why, but he was a true-blue American through and through. He would never betray his country. Never purposely place her in danger. “Ruby, I’m looking out for you. Like a good brother would do.”
“I get it, El, I do, but I’m not giving up. The Agency can come after me if they want, but they’ll fail. I know what I’m doing and I know I can fix this mess. If you’re innocent, I will prove it. You have to believe in me.”
“Of course I believe in you.” Did she still believe in him though? A slice of pain went through his heart. “You and I are the best of partners, aren’t we?”
She was silent for a second too long. “We were. We will be again.”
“Then come with me.”
She shifted her weight, glanced away. “There’s something you should know. Jax is looking for you.”
A cold, creeping sensation wormed its way into his belly. “What?”
“He found me at the club tonight, told me the Agency is keeping a tight lid on the news about your escape. They’ve hired him to hunt you down and bring you back as quickly and quietly as possible.”
Goddamn bastard. “He came running to you before the ink was dry on the order. Big surprise.”
“He said I was the first person you’d ask for help.” She bit her lower lip. “He was right.”
“Because you’re my partner and you’re in danger.”
“I can appreciate your current mindset and I understand why you’re here, but if you’re not going to fill me in on the details about you and Al-Safari, you should go. I’m on probation. I can’t harbor a federal fugitive, partner or not.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Who saved your ass in Bagdad? Jakarta? Athens?”
“You did, and I saved your ass just as many times. But you and I both know you can’t run from the Agency. We can fight your conviction and bring new evidence to light through legitimate channels. I can clear your name, Elliot, but you have to let me do it my way.”
That was just it. She couldn’t clear his name, no matter what she believed. “They’ll kill you.”
“If they wanted to silence me, they would have already done it. The Agency may do a lot of shitty things in the name of freedom but they don’t kill their own for acting on orders.”
God, this was not the way he’d imagined this would go. “Next, you’ll be calling the cops to report me.”
“I would never do that.”
“Wouldn’t you? Kinda sounds like you don’t have my back anymore, partner.”
He picked up the knife and turned on his heel. Time to get out of here before that bastard Sloan showed up.
Ruby was on him before he got to the door. She grabbed his arm and slid in front of him, blocking his exit. “Promise me you’ll turn yourself in.”
Gritting his teeth, he gently shifted her out of his way. “No can do, Rubes. The CIA isn’t going to take me down.”
He jerked the door open, meeting her pretty brown eyes one last time. “Watch your back, kid. I won’t be there to cover your six anymore.”
“Wait.”
Hope rose in his chest as she ran for the bedroom. Had she changed her mind? Was she coming with him?
Emerging a moment later, she carried a small blue duffel bag in her hand. Her go-bag.
Yes!
“Take this,” she said, holding out the bag. “There’s cash, some burn phones, a weapon.”
Shock rippled through him, crushing the hope. He loved her so much, the thought of walking away from her undid him.
But he had to. She wasn’t coming with him, no matter how badly he wanted her to.
“Thanks.” He took the bag; at least it was something.
He was almost through the door when she threw her arms around him and hugged him for an all-too-brief moment. “Be careful, El. I’ll keep working the case, and I swear by all that’s in me, I will clear your name.
For a moment, he let her hug him, let his feelings for her rush over him. It was the one thing that had kept him going in prison. The one thing he’d allowed himself to feel. “I’m innocent, Rubes.”
“I know you are.” She went up on her tiptoes and lightly kissed his cheek. “I’ll prove it.”
A moment later, he let himself out the service door downstairs and faced an unwanted future without her.
Chapter Three
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JAX SAT WATCHING Ruby’s apartment building from the parking lot at the back of the building. Lights went on and off behind closed curtains, but no shadows crossed in front of the windows. Hard to tell if she was alone or not.
Spies. Pain in the ass.
He’d followed her from the club. At least most of the way. She’d lost him somewhere around Wacker Drive—what a name for a street. Like most big cities, Chicago’s downtown was a maze and he’d never been here before. Ruby, however, had grown up in a suburb called Oak Lawn, southwest of the city.
His navigational skills were spot-on most of the time, thanks to his SEAL training, and ‘lost’ wasn’t in his vocabulary. He didn’t get lost in major metropolitan cities any more than he got lost in Middle Eastern deserts or South American jungles. It just didn’t happen.
So when he got turned around in some shady South Side neighborhood, he knew he’d been had by one petite CIA operative.
He was good, but she was better.
And didn’t that stick in his craw.
Thanks to the CI
A chief who’d hired Shadow Force International—and him, specifically—to hunt down Elliot Hayden, Jax knew Ruby’s temporary address and had already checked it out. He’d considered picking the lock on the door and letting himself in, but he knew the spy would have some kind of personal security in place. She was adept at electronics; she probably had sensors on every window and both exits. Not wanting to tip his hand and let her know he was looking for her, he’d kept his lock pick in his medical bag and waited. She’d come home from her day job, consulting with the local FBI counterterrorism group, and left for the club shortly afterward.
Her consulting job was simply a way for the CIA to make her lay low while she was on probation. They didn’t want her at Langley and couldn’t put her back in the field. She was one of their top UC operatives, but because they suspected she’d lied about her partner’s actions—and maybe had played a part in his treasonous activities—they’d had no choice but to do something. They couldn’t prove she was guilty, but in the CIA, you were never innocent. Until they’d vetted her allegiance to them and were once again assured of her loyalty, she was forced to lay low and consult.
He bet it ate at her. She probably wasn’t sleeping, barely eating. He’d only spent a few days with her in Morocco but he’d seen how obsessed she got when on a mission.
Along with the lock pick in his bag were fake IDs and passports for both of them. The Central Intelligence Agency didn’t want word to get out about Hayden’s escape trick, and although they were in the business of covert operations, someone higher up in the US government hadn’t trusted the Agency to bring Hayden in alive.
Jax’s boss, Beatrice Reese, had been rather furtive about the client as well, but that was to be expected of the genius who’d formerly worked for the NSA in a special operations group that had tried to silence her. Her reach within the international intelligence world was long and deep, and she knew things that got you killed; Jax had no doubt that was why she’d changed her name and given herself a new identity before taking over Shadow Force International for the founder, Emit Petit.
