Borrowed Time

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Colin. She needed to find Colin. Concentrate on that. Use Brian Morrison if you have to, but don’t fall under his spell.

  Tension of a more tangible nature suffused the car as they turned onto the road where the Blazer had been abandoned. Slinking deeper into her seat, Emily scrutinized the sidewalk, afraid of every parked vehicle and afraid that each colossal tree concealed their foe.

  There it was, still isolated in the shadow of the stately church. Only a few days ago, the black and silver grill of that Blazer had loomed menacingly in her rear view mirror.

  Only a few days before that she had been an honorable citizen.

  “Keep going.” Brian commanded quietly.

  “But why? I’ve staked this road out for the past three hours. I’m telling you Brian, they’re gone.” Phil’s mottled face spun sideways as the Impala idled past the frosted vehicle.

  “Humor me.”

  “Alright, but—”

  “Pull over at the next intersection.”

  Brian’s voice did little to warm the chill in Emily’s body. She hugged her arms tight about her and peered over her shoulder through the rear window to see if they were being followed. The residential road was empty, not even a morning jogger as a sign of life in this still slumberous community.

  Her head snapped back as Phil coaxed the car close enough to the curb to grate the tires against it.

  “What now?”

  “Yeah,” Phil echoed her. “What now?”

  Brian took his time in answering. His silhouette was a chiseled cameo of resolve.

  “I don’t like this.” He proclaimed in a solemn tone.

  “Come on, Brian.” Phil whined. “Let me just take the Blazer and get back to NMD. I’m of better use to you there.”

  “You can’t go back there. They are after you too, and if not after you directly, they’re using you to get to us.” Brian swiped at the tension in his neck. Guilt and indecision reigned in his eyes, and Emily felt a stab of regret for placing Brian and his loyal friend in this position.

  “Give me the keys,” she ordered softly. “This is my problem, I’ll take the Blazer. And when I find Colin I’ll bring the car back to you.”

  Brian regarded her with an arch of his brow. The hint of a bittersweet smile toyed with the corner of his lips, and just that small gesture made Emily’s own lower lip tremble.

  “No way, Em.” He whispered.

  “Exactly,” Phil startled them both when he wrenched open the car door. “Morrison,” He demanded with his palm thrust forward. “the keys.”

  Brian’s hand was fisted around a Chevrolet key ring, his knuckles white with exertion. “It’s not safe.”

  “I told you, man.” Again the gloved palm jabbed forward. “I searched that baby from stem to stern. There is nothing on that frame to trace me. And if so, so what? What the hell are they going to be able to get out of me? The truth? I’ll tell them the truth. Yeah, yeah I saw them, George. Last time I saw them they were heading north out of Saratoga. Where were they going? I have no friggin clue!” Phil’s arm dropped and he hunched in the open doorway.

  Affected, he said again. “I have no friggin clue.”

  Brian turned away and focused on the road, the subtle thump of a muscle pounding at the crest of his jaw. On a quiet oath he slammed the keys down on the driver seat.

  As Phil reached for them, Brian seized the man’s wrist. “Get the hell out of here—and watch your back.” His grip relented some, and he came close to managing a grin. “Think about Washington. You don’t belong compromised by the likes of Barcuda—neither of us do. There are places I can get you, Pulkowski. Think about it.”

  Awe brightened the red splotches on Philip Pulkowski’s plump cheeks. “Wow, D.C.. The big show.” He swung a wide smile towards the back seat. “You take care, you here?”

  Emily knew the real words were you take care of him, you here? Phil worshipped Brian Morrison—that much was evident.

  “Thank you so much for your help.” She resisted the urge to touch her fingers to the gloved hand soiled by powdered sugar.

  Instead Emily smiled her sincerity and added. “You’ve gone out of your way for someone you don’t even know, someone who just broke the law. That’s—all I can say is thank you.”

  Rose stains permeated the rotund cheeks, capillaries brightening a path down Phil’s throat. He smiled sheepishly. “God’s honest truth, it was Brian I was worried about, but now—” Green eyes darted from Brian to the rear passenger, “Well, Brian can take care of himself. And you, Miss Brennan, I don’t doubt for a minute that you can’t handle yourself.” His hip slowly edged the door closed. “This has certainly been a pleasure.”

  With a wink and a quick bow, Phil slammed the door shut. She watched the stout figure jog towards the Blazer, his head rotating once, twice—like a crossing guard waiting for that car that was two miles down the road, and wondering whether to chance letting anyone cross. With jerky movements he climbed into the SUV and revved up the engine, the plume of exhaust blanketing the street with smoke.

  “I have to have that muffler replaced one of these days.” Brian reflected.

  Emily was stirred to touch him again. His frown was so intense she was reminded of her mother’s childhood command, keep that up, and your face will stay that way.

  Oh Mom, where are you? What are you thinking up there when you look down on me?

  “He’s a good friend.” She observed quietly, watching Brian’s expression relax as the Blazer safely merged onto the intersecting avenue.

  Brian cleared his throat. “When I moved up to Connecticut and took on the job at NMD, everyone gave me a wide berth—considered me somewhat of a mystery.” He turned his head and smirked. “They said they found me brooding?”

  Her smile came naturally. “Whereas I would classify you as more of a stand-up comic kind of guy.”

  As fleeting as the glimpse of sun between bulbous gray clouds, his grin disappeared.

  “But Phil,” he explained, “well, he was hell-bent on having a friend. No matter how much I ignored him, no matter how foul my mood was—everyday he would hit with me with some stupid-ass joke the moment I walked in.” Brian shook his head. “One day I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Emily leaned forward, intrigued. “What did you do?”

  “I laughed.”

  She laughed too. “Well, sounds like a match made in heaven.” But then her expression changed. “I’m sorry, Brian.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting him in this position.”

  Brian shifted, the sound of jeans scraping velour as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “Let’s not talk about it, alright? Why don’t you come sit up front?”

  For a moment Emily hesitated. Her hand was on the seatback, her gaze warily studying the empty street. With a swift inhale, she launched the door open and quickly clambered in beside him. Her face felt flushed, and the indolent dusting of his eyes only enhanced the sensation.

  “Okay, Em.” Strong hands gripped the steering wheel as his gaze slid from hers to the windshield. “Got any ideas as to where to find your brother?”

  “Yes.”

  His gaze swept back in shock. “Please then, do tell.”

  “I know where Colin’s at.”

  CHAPTER XI

  “How?” Brian felt the dull pain above his eye beginning to throb again. He wanted to find the eccentric engineer, and take him and his handful of a sister both to a safe house while he dealt with Barcuda.

  Brian’s eyes swept over the tense woman beside him, her slim hands gripping the cloth edge of the seat. She was nearing the capacity of her nerves. Last night it had become evident how much pain she withheld, but in the dark—in furtive whispers and lingering caresses, he had come to know this woman. And he wanted to know so much more.

  God help him, he wanted to keep Emily safe.

  “He told me.”

  Brian narrowed his eyes, but the gesture did not seem to affect Emily. She watc
hed him with those Caribbean pools as if he stood on the edge of a beautiful shoreline, but couldn’t risk diving in. “When?” He barked more harshly than intended.

  “On the cell, last night.” The only indication that his tone had affected her was the furtive nibble on the edge of a pale fingernail.

  He took a deep breath and watched the windshield fog up. “And you didn’t tell me, because—?”

  “Because I didn’t figure it out at first.”

  “Emily, please, no riddles. Just come out with it.”

  Soft brown eyebrows knitted into a frown. “But that’s just what it was—a riddle. Here I thought Colin was rambling on and on, when all along he was letting me know exactly where he was.”

  Troubled eyes met his, and Brian surrendered to the need to touch her. He reached out and grazed her heart-shaped jaw with the tip of his thumb. That caress extended to a light brush just below her lip, where warm breath dusted his finger as she continued earnestly.

  “He said he was going underground. So deep that even the Devil had to look down at him.”

  Realization dawned a second before she voiced the inevitable. Brian beat her to it. “NMD.”

  “Yes,” She whispered.

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “Not before me.”

  He checked to see if she was joking, but her soft lashes feathered down introspectively.

  “Hey,”

  Emily looked up, and Brian felt that glance like a fist in his chest. It hit him hard. Those wide insightful eyes, her soft glossy lips—the memory of their taste, and the way her body felt plied against his.

  She was a strong woman—hell, she was stubborn. But in his arms, Emily was a sensual creature of passion, a captivating siren that lured him to the sea. And oh, how he wanted to sink into that subterranean bliss.

  “Hey,” He repeated, waiting for those crystalline orbs to blink. “We’ll find him, and we’ll get you both somewhere safe until Barcuda is accounted for.”

  Emily’s eyes were vacant, and they escaped his, swaying away towards the window. He gave her that respite, using the moment to coax the Impala onto the street. The motor whirred sickly, as if it were trying to idle down a canal where the water level exceeded the hood, but he couldn’t complain. It was safe.

  “Just yesterday you couldn’t wait for the opportunity to be done with us.”

  Curse the damn engine. He could barely hear her soft whisper over the din. In mid-gesture he stopped he stopped his hand. He was going to reach for her chin and turn her face away from the window, towards him.

  “What?”

  Emily’s finger traced an imaginary pattern on her thigh.

  “Why would you worry about putting Colin and I up somewhere safe? Why wouldn’t you just turn us in and be done with it? To hell with NMD. You are warranted in turning us into the authorities. I wouldn’t blame you.”

  He stared at the rearview mirror, at the intersecting streets and the blinking yellow traffic light, making sure no other car trailed him.

  “Just yesterday,” Emily continued. “You had a different tune, and I want to know what changed it, because—” Her shoulders lifted and dropped in a rushed breath. “Because if it’s about last night, well—that wasn’t, I wasn’t looking for—”

  “Neither was I.” Brian cut her off. He took the turn sharp enough to make her lean in his direction. A breathy whiff of Edelweiss’ floral shampoo flooded his senses.

  “Look Em, you’re a beautiful woman, who am I kidding, you’re hot as hell, and I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the night of the accident.”

  He had her attention now. Emily was watching him and Brian had to force his gaze back to the rear view mirror.

  “But,” He finally managed in a clipped voice. “I’m not so weak that I would succumb to a woman’s charm to let her get her way. I know what’s right here. You have to understand—I’ve been at a disadvantage with that whole night erased from my memory. Facts are just slowly trickling in, and you’ve been very little help there. I mean hell,” He ground out. “It’s like pulling teeth, and actually the more you tell me, the more I’m realizing what a mess you two have gotten yourself into. So if I’m a little late in coming around to helping you, well you have only yourself to blame.”

  It didn’t matter that his gaze was trained on the road, Brian could sense her agitation.

  “Facts?” Emily turned away to look out the window again, making her voice muffled. “Well, let’s see, where would I begin? Maybe my docile job, the one I felt was a secure place to bring my brother. An environment where he could thrive and showcase his natural talents without having to interact much. He doesn’t really get along with people. It’s not that he doesn’t like them, it’s just—just—” Her hand waved to substitute her failing words.

  But Brian knew Emily was just getting started. And perhaps he was beginning to identify with the enchanting engineer, because he knew enough to realize that she needed this liberation.

  Incredibly, Brian grasped that he wanted to be the one to pick up the pieces and put Emily Brennan back together. Recognizing that however, didn’t explain why.

  “Only a few days ago my life was mundane. You know, maybe I don’t interact with people too well either. Maybe I enjoyed living in that dungeon, doing my job, and going home at night to light my candles and read a book.”

  An image of Emily in a robe, basked in the glow of candlelight toyed with his mind. If he had known her—if he had known that she sat home alone—he would have been over there. And yes, there would be candles, but there would be no books—just heat.

  “But one night, Colin comes over and tells me this ridiculous tale about someone tampering with his brakes. He said that someone from work was trying to steal his design, that—that the submersible he designed was only a rough draft. He said it was a toy and that if it was ever truly manufactured in the crude form he laid out that it would kill anyone who commandeered it.”

  Emily’s voice grew raw. He could hear anxiety stifling her breath. “I didn’t want to believe it. For ten years now I’ve been listening to his tales, bailing him out of jams, pacifying offended employers. I don’t know how Mom and Dad did it. They had such patience, and I don’t. And that makes me feel miserable,” Her voice trembled, “because Colin is really so sweet in his heart.”

  With her head tipped back on the headrest, Emily tried for a laugh but the sound came out strangled. “The reality of it is that I think Colin has actually taken care of me. In his splendidly manipulative way he has made me feel like I’ve been in charge, but—”

  Her profile revealed a bittersweet smile and she fell into meditative silence. On the side of the road, a billboard proclaimed the benefits of the Springs two miles ahead.

  “What happened to your parents, Em?”

  Only the drone of the muffler and tires slapping wet pavement filled the car. Emily’s hand was splayed across her thigh, her fingers tapping nervously.

  “A plane crash,” She whispered. “On the night of my graduation. We had a fight—” The last sentence was choked off and she cleared her throat.

  Her quick shake and slight cough told him there would be no more on that subject, but there was enough there for Brian to realize the source of the turmoil he first detected in Emily’s eyes in the hospital.

  “So anyway,” She continued with vigor, phantom energy whose supply would soon tap out. “just after Colin made these claims, I was called into George Barcuda’s office. Alone.”

  Brian’s spine stiffened. The mere mention of the man set him on edge, but to insert an image of Emily alone with Barcuda made his breath shallow. “Go on,” He prompted.

  “He wanted me to talk to my brother. He wanted me to coax the designs away from him. Of course it was all for the good of NMD, he explained. It would only prove to benefit us. I would get promoted and Colin would advance, etc. etc.”

  Her chin tucked down causing the veil of shiny hair to sway and conceal her. “If I hel
ped Barcuda,” A shudder racked through her. “He would be personally grateful, he would show me—”

  “Enough.” Brian envisioned the steering wheel as George Barcuda’s neck, and squeezed.

  George Barcuda’s less than savory practices with women were a source of bodacious chatter at NMD. He dared not imagine howgrateful Barcuda would have been with Emily. God, he was getting pissed just thinking about it. Fortunately his strongest impulse was to protect her at all costs. The next strongest impulse was to make love to her. And if he had the ability to maintain an impulse after that, it would be to make Barcuda pay for every unsavory injustice he bestowed on his angel and her brother.

  Enough. That had been the primary thought inside her head as Emily stood in George Barcuda’s cavernous office, feeling defiled as he undressed her with his bespectacled eyes.

  She had been called in when Colin was cornered by Barcuda’s thugs, their request for the Hyperion drawings now evolving into a physical demand. Colin automatically turned to Benjamin to avoid the confrontation, and that was when Emily was brought in to calm him down. She did just that, but was startled when Barcuda requested a private meeting.

  From the moment she entered that dark office, which felt more like a lair with its phosphorescent undersea images and dusky lighting, Emily had a sense that she was in way over her head. Imposing in an Italian black suit, George Barcuda sat behind his wide mahogany desk, thin fingers laced in silent authority.

  Something about the skeletal long nose and high white forehead beneath thinning black hair made him appear ghoulish. He looked like a staple in a Vincent Price movie or a vampire from an era when monsters were not attractive, but rather bald, crippled characters with gnarled fingers and evil eyes.

  “Miss Brennan?” His frank stare made her feel that the white lab coat over her slacks and turtleneck was insufficient.

  “Was it necessary to harass my brother?” She challenged with false bravado. Inside her pockets, damp palms were fisted tight enough to cause pain.