Hiding From Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 2)

by Olivia Jaymes

  The SUV turned onto a rutted road that almost jolted her teeth loose. It was a relief when he brought the truck to a halt and put the vehicle in park.

  “Wait here.”

  West patted her shoulder before exiting the SUV, locking the door behind him. She heard his boots on wooden stair steps and then a banging on what was probably a front door. A dog began to bark and growl and then soft voices spoke but she couldn’t make out the actual words. West’s footsteps came closer and she lifted her head slightly to try and see their location.

  Knocking softly on the passenger window, West beckoned to Gigi. “It’s okay. Come on out.”

  Gigi pushed the car door open and let West help her uncurl her body, cramped and hurting from crouching for so long. His strong fingers rubbed her shoulders as she followed him back up the porch steps to where a tall, muscular man with dark hair stood in the doorway partially outlined by the lamplight. Dressed in blue jeans and a half unbuttoned red flannel shirt, she placed his age at about forty due to a few silver strands at his temples.

  “Come on in and get comfortable, Miss. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  The man’s voice rumbled in the quiet but it was a warm and friendly sound that drew her toward him. She stepped across the threshold and into the old fashioned log home that was small but neat and tidy. A yellow lab with a wagging tail hovered close by, too well trained to jump on her but obviously excited about a visitor that might scratch his belly.

  “I’ll pull the truck into the barn.” West gave her a quick hug and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Let Wyatt take care of you. He’s a good friend and I’d trust him with my life. Hell, I’d trust him with your life. I’m going to hide our vehicle just in case anyone comes snooping around. Give me five minutes.”

  She wouldn’t have objected to his leaving her alone with this other man but she felt slightly bereft as he jogged down the steps and into the night. Wyatt closed the door behind her and pointed down a hallway, giving her a sympathetic smile.

  “There’s a bathroom down there if you want to get freshened up.”

  Now that sounded like heaven. She felt grimy and sweaty, which really wasn’t all that bad considering she’d been caught in a gunfire fight not long ago. It was only delayed shock that kept her from falling apart completely. She was holding onto her sanity by her fingernails but losing her grip rapidly. She hadn’t wanted to fall apart in front of West when he was trying so hard to take care of her and keep her safe. But now that she was inside this warm and cozy house the numbness was beginning to wear off and horror was taking its place. What she really needed was a big shot of whiskey and for West to hold her for the next several hours to keep the nightmares at bay.

  Once locked behind the bathroom door she splashed cold water on her face, staring into the small mirror over the sink. Her skin was pale and her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She looked a mess and felt worse. The whole trip which had begun with such promise had gone to shit.

  Alan would never leave her alone.

  Mentally she gave herself a pointed, tough pep talk. There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She was ass deep in a mess and hopefully with West’s help she’d claw her way out. She hadn’t fooled herself that it would be easy. Or pretty. The fact was this was probably going to get uglier and messier before it was over.

  She quickly ran a comb through her hair and rejoined Wyatt, who was now in the kitchen heating up a kettle. True to his word West was back in the house shrugging off his jacket but leaving on his shoulder holster.

  “Gigi, have you had a chance to meet my old friend Wyatt Stone?”

  “We haven’t yet been formally introduced.” Gigi held out her hand to the handsome man who had graciously taken them in. “I’m Gigi. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Wyatt.” Her hand seemed to disappear in his large one but despite his size he seemed cognizant of his strength. “It’s nice to meet you too. Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  West slapped his friend on the back. “I don’t know about Gigi but I could use a drink, my friend. A strong one.”

  “I’ve got some whiskey in the cabinet. I also have some chicken casserole I can warm up in the oven if you like.” Wyatt reached up over the stove and pulled down a bottle and three glasses. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or is it classified?”

  “How much time do you got?”

  Wyatt looked around the house, clearly empty except for himself and the dog. “I need to feed the chickens around sun up. Besides that I’ve got nothing pressing.”

  West lowered himself into a kitchen chair and indicated that Gigi should do the same. “I can tell you but you might not believe me.”

  Chuckling, Wyatt poured out three fingers of whiskey. “Those are the best kinds of stories from my experience. What have you got yourself into now?”

  Danger. Gigi had dragged West into a pile of it and she didn’t know how to get him – and herself – out of it.

  They couldn’t go back. They couldn’t stay here.

  The only way to move was forward.

  * * *

  “Something is wrong. Something more than just the situation we’re in.”

  Gigi pulled the covers over her suddenly chilled body. They were tucked up in Wyatt’s spare bedroom after having a bite of dinner and a stiff drink. West had told the entire story sparing few details, but somehow managing not to make her sound like an idiot. She was grateful for his thoughtfulness but with everything that had happened she didn’t deserve his protection. It was all her fault they were ass deep in alligators.

  While she’d soaked in a hot bath West and Wyatt had stayed huddled in the kitchen, their voices unintelligible from where she was but the deeply serious tone unmistakable. With West’s brothers and friends God knows where, they were on their own. It was a terror filled thought that had tears running down her face as she’d struggled to control her overwhelming emotions.

  Sitting all alone in that tub, she’d allowed the horrors of the evening to finally sink in.

  But she hadn’t come this far to fall apart now when she was so close to finding her family. She’d wiped away the tears and pulled herself together. She was a fighter and had been all her life. Nothing had ever been easy or peaceful.

  West slipped between the sheets, his expression grim and pale. “I finally was able to talk to Jason. It was a fucking mess there after we left. They managed to take out two men of the four plus shoot out two tires on the sedan. When the remaining men realized they weren’t going to win they abandoned their friends and hightailed it out of there.”

  “The police? Did they get there?”

  Lips flattening into a thin line, West shrugged. “Probably. I’m sure one of the station clerks called 911. The guys didn’t hang around to find out. They headed for the nearest hospital.”

  Gigi’s fingers clutched the soft blanket and her stomach twisted into tight knots. “Hospital? Was someone hurt?”

  “Shane got a slug right in the gut. They were terrified he would bleed out. They got on the road right away but Jason called an old buddy from the government and I guess they sent out one of those helicopter ambulances. So now Shane is in a hospital in Salt Lake City having emergency surgery. In the meantime Jason is answering a lot of questions from the authorities. They’re not going to get to leave any time soon from what he said. As a general rule law enforcement is very interested in shoot outs with non-locals.”

  Gigi had to concentrate on her breathing as the room seemed to blur and spin. If Shane died she would never forgive herself. She didn’t expect West to forgive her either.

  “Is Shane going to be okay?”

  West fell back against the cushions, a muscle working in his jaw. “Jason said the doctors were optimistic but they won’t know if the surgery is successful for another few hours. I told Jason to call me as soon as Shane is in recovery.”

  Gigi buried her head in her hands, guilt swamping any feelings of fear she’d harbored earlier. “I’m so sorry. S
o very sorry. You should go to your cousin. Be there for him.”

  “Are you kidding? I won’t leave you. Jason and Travis are with him and as they reminded me there’s nothing I can do for Shane right now except pray.”

  “All of this is my fault.”

  “No.” West’s tone was stern but his arms were gentle as he pulled her close to pillow her cheek on his chest. “This is all Morton’s fault. I won’t leave you when we’re so close to ending all of this once and for all. Shane’s a tough son of a bitch and I believe he’ll be fine. His mother is on her way to the hospital to be with him. He’ll be surrounded by people who love him. He knows that my job is to protect you.”

  Gigi let out a long sigh as West played with an errant strand of hair, tickling her chin. “Your job should be running for mayor. You’re missing the last debate and we may not even get back in time for you to vote for yourself. What if Cavendish wins again?”

  “If he wins then we start a petition for a recall,” West replied. “I never really wanted to be mayor in the first place but I didn’t want Cavendish to win another four years. The bastard’s ruining Tremont. Everyone in town knows who I am and what I stand for. They don’t need to hear me speak at a debate to understand what I believe in. If they want me as mayor they’ll vote for me…whether I’m there or not. If I lose, I lose.”

  “I think you’re more competitive than that.” Gigi traced circles on West’s bare chest. “I think you kind of want to win.”

  “You sound like Travis. He thinks everyone is as cutthroat as he is. I’m really okay if I lose. I just wish Cavendish wouldn’t be the winner, that’s all.”

  “He is sort of a jerk.”

  Mayor Cavendish came into the diner at least once a week and expected everyone to make a fuss over him like he was royalty. Gigi couldn’t understand that sense of entitlement.

  “He’s a major league asshole,” West retorted with a laugh. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a few friends. Time will tell how this will all work out. But hear me loud and clear, babe. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be with you every step of the way until Morton is behind bars. You can’t get rid of me that easily, you know.”

  Gigi shouldn’t feel relieved at his definitive statement but her breathing immediately became easier with his assurances.

  “What are we going to do now? Do you have a plan?”

  “I’m putting one together. I’ve talked to Jason and to Wyatt as well. I think we both need a few hours of sleep before we make any final decisions. Are you worried? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  He’d been saying that over and over since he’d found out about Alan and now that she’d seen him in action she was starting to really believe it. No matter what happened he would stand by her.

  It was a frightening and humbling action on his part.

  She’d spent so much time keeping him at arm’s length, pushing him away with both hands. He easily could have turned and left when she needed him the most.

  “I trust you completely,” she assured him, knowing in her heart it was the truth. “I was just wondering what we do now that we don’t have anyone to make the trip with us.”

  “We’ll be okay. I have a trick or two up my sleeve. In the meantime let’s get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  Gigi glanced at the bedside clock. “Morning is only a few hours away, handsome.”

  “Then everything will look better midday. Now close your eyes.”

  Gigi obeyed but not for long. She was too wired to fall asleep easily although West must have been exhausted. His chest was rising and falling gently, soft snores in an even rhythm. Cuddling close she relived the gun battle at the gas station over and over, knowing without a doubt that she would be on her way to Chicago if West hadn’t been there.

  She absolutely trusted him with her life. Could she trust him with her heart?

  Chapter Sixteen

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  “Goddamit.” Alan Morton smashed his fist down on the desk, ignoring the shot of pain that ran up his arm. He was too fucking angry to pay it any attention. His men had screwed up. Again. “You could have killed her. What were they thinking, pulling their guns like that?”

  Georgette had been in the middle of a firefight between the men he’d sent to collect her and her bodyguards. If she’d been killed or even injured he’d take great pleasure in beating the idiot who did it to death. Slowly. He’d want the man to know he was going to die…eventually. The asshole would be praying for death when Alan was done with him.

  “She had five bodyguards, boss. There was no way they could have taken her without firing,” the younger man stuttered, his face turning a distinct shade of reddish-purple. “I checked into that boyfriend of hers and he was Special Forces in the military. His brother worked for the DEA. They all knew how to handle a gun and one of them gave Steve a concussion and a broken arm.”

  Alan hated whining and excuses and this guy was full of both. Finding men who didn’t lie down and give up when faced with a little adversity was almost impossible these days.

  “Where is she now?”

  He sat down behind his desk and rested his chin on his steepled fingers, breathing in and out slowly to try and regulate the rage churning inside of him. Every day that Georgette wasn’t in this house and under his control was a day of her moving farther away from him. Once she was back it would take months to create the docile and obedient creature she had once been.

  But of course this time he had something to help motivate her.

  The man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “We don’t know. One of the guards drove her away and our guys weren’t able to follow because their tires had been shot out. We assume they’re still headed for Las Vegas.”

  Alan slowly sat back in the leather chair, his hands tightening into fists. He would simply have to take care of this himself. He couldn’t trust anyone with something this important. Georgette needed to come home.

  He knew just what to do.

  “We’ve had men stationed in Vegas for the last year,” the man pointed out. “I’ll tell them to get ready.”

  “Tell them to do nothing. They are to keep their distance. Follow and report only.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know.” Alan inwardly chuckled at the young man’s confused expression. With an IQ of 150 he was used to running intellectual circles around most of the people he met. Rarely did anyone challenge him. He liked it that way. “They won’t be in Las Vegas for long. They’re coming to Chicago. They’re coming to us.”

  * * *

  “Hopefully Wyatt won’t be long.”

  West handed Gigi a straw for her iced tea and she accepted it with shaking hands. They were sitting in a truck in the parking lot of the Mixed Martial Arts center where Zach worked as an instructor. Wyatt had agreed to not only lend them his Ford-350 extended cab but also accompanied them to Las Vegas, helping to keep Gigi safe.

  It was good to see Wyatt getting out of his self-imposed exile. Since he’d left the service a few years before he’d practically hidden himself away on that lonely piece of property, only leaving when he absolutely needed something like food.

  Wyatt had come back from the Middle East to nothing. His parents had passed away while he was deployed and his wife had left him for his best friend after admitting the child she carried wasn’t his either. West’s friend had moved back to his childhood home, adopted a dog, and retreated from the world. It was probably the fact that Gigi was also alone that made Wyatt want to help.

  Luckily there had been no trouble during the drive down nor when they’d checked into the hotel. West doubted that Morton had given up, however. His cop instincts told him this was the lull before the storm.

  Gigi of course was nervous about meeting her brother and so far all of West’s assurances hadn’t made anything better. She was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement and more than a little fear. West had stayed i
n the vehicle with her, sending Wyatt in to find Zachary Rogers and talk to him. If they were still being followed – and West had no reason to doubt that – sending in an unfamiliar face might throw them off, at least temporarily.

  “It’s just so overwhelming really. I’m going to see Zach after all these years. I’ve missed him so much.” Gigi’s voice caught and her fingers flexed around the cup, the knuckles white. “I just hope…you know…that he wants to see me.”

  West frowned and shook his head. “Why on earth would he not want to see you? He’s your brother. Didn’t you say he took care of you and your sister when your mother couldn’t?”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “He made the best macaroni and cheese in the world. You know, the kind in a box. It was really good though. I don’t know what he did to make it special but somehow it was. He made everything seem better. Even if it really sucked like when we couldn’t go to the movies like our friends. He’d help us build a fort out of blankets and chairs or we’d play hide and seek in the house. It was the little things he did that made our lives okay. Honestly all I’ve ever wanted was to have a normal life and a normal family.”

  West had a sad suspicion that rabid hunger made Zach’s mac and cheese delicious. From what Gigi had told him her mother had barely provided food and shelter for her three children. West made a silent promise to himself to personally thank Zachary Rogers for caring for Gigi and her sister when no one else would.

  “It sounds like he’s going to be thrilled to see you, babe. I bet he’s missed you as much as you’ve missed him.”

  She plucked at her blue jeans, her gaze directed at the floor. “Maybe he feels he’s better off without us. He missed so much having to take care of us. Maybe he’s happier now.”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. West’s woman was so fucked up about love, family, and relationships. It wasn’t her fault, of course. She’d had few if any role models and then when she’d thought she’d found someone who cared he turned out to be a batshit crazy criminal who would rather see her dead than free from his mad dictator-like control.