The Runner's Daughter

by Jessica McCrory

  The wrap-around porch was a dark cherry color, which contrasted nicely with the pale grey exterior. It didn’t look anything like the safe house she and her mother had been taken to before. That one had been completely isolated and nearly uninhabitable.

  “Where are we?”

  “Just outside of New Haven, Connecticut.” He turned the engine off and climbed out.

  She followed him up the front steps and watched as he keyed in a code on the entry pad mounted just to the left side of the door.

  “Come on in,” he said as the door unlocked.

  As she stepped in, she was pleasantly surprised at the cleanliness of the house. There was no dust anywhere, the furniture was all matching and fairly new, and the house itself didn’t smell stale like the one she had been in before. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a house someone lived in and loved.

  “I thought you were taking me to safe house.”

  “This is a safe house,” he said as he checked rooms and turned on the lights. “It’s one of our newest ones, and only a handful of people know about it so far. I’m not even sure it’s ever been used.”

  “It’s cute,” she said as she inspected the throw pillows that looked like they’d been handmade.

  “My mom made those.”

  Jemma looked up at him surprised. “Your mom works for the FBI?”

  He laughed. “No, she’s crafty. She likes to make things and then sells them at local markets and things like that.”

  Jemma ran her fingers over the stitches. Her mom had liked to sew, too. Jemma’s one wish was that she had grabbed the blanket her mom had knitted her when she’d been young. She had left it sitting on her bed both times she’d escaped. One day when she walked back into that house, she was going to grab everything that reminded her of her mother and then watch as the rest burned.

  When she realized she had tears in her eyes, she wiped them away and put the pillow down. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I’ll let her know you think so. She’ll appreciate it. All right, we’re good to go.” He holstered his weapon and walked into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. “Want one?” He held one out to her.

  “Sure, thanks.” She grabbed it, and their hands briefly met. She ignored the electrical charge that seemed to pass through them both and drank deeply. “How long do we have to be here?”

  “Once Pax calls us with what’s on that thumb drive, we should have enough for a warrant to search Charmont’s property. Once we do, I imagine we will have enough to bring him in and charge him. After that, we’ll need you to testify, and once the bastard’s sealed behind bars, you will be good to go and do whatever it is you want.”

  Jemma smiled and nodded. It was possible he would never uncover who she truly was. She may never have to suffer the look of disgust on his face when he realized she was the daughter of a man he hated.

  She could lie more, and say she lied about her real name for many reasons, whether it was because she was afraid she might be arrested, or afraid someone would alert her father that she was talking with the FBI, but really the only reason she’d lied was to save herself a look of hatred from the man standing in front of her.

  For some reason, she actually gave a shit what he thought of her. Maybe when all of this was over, he’d even want to take her out on a real date. She’d always wondered what it was like since she’d never been allowed to have one.

  “What do you think you’ll do when you don’t have to hide anymore?” Caid asked and took a seat on the couch.

  Jemma sat on the opposite side and thought a moment. “Get a dog.”

  “A dog?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “I’ve always wanted one. I wasn’t allowed to have one when I was young, and ever since my escape, I’ve been too afraid to get one because I didn’t want it to get hurt.”

  “I’ve been thinking of getting one too. We always had a dog when I was growing up. Do you have a particular breed you’d want?”

  “An Australian Shepard.”

  “They are good dogs. We had one when I was younger.”

  “They are loyal, and kind, and protective. All the things a dog should be.” She smiled. She could almost picture it now, and she was so close to having the life she’d only ever dreamed of.

  She looked over, and Caid was staring at her with a look on his face she’d only ever seen on one other man, Alejandro. Even now, Caid’s was more intense, steadier, and was heating her blood when she had no business thinking of him in any more than a professional manner.

  She cleared her throat and stood. “I’m tired. Where’s the bathroom? I want to shower before I go to bed.”

  He stood. “There are some clothes in various sizes in here.” He opened the door to a hall closet, and Jemma looked through until she found some pajama pants and a tank that would fit her.

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “The bathroom’s through there, and the bedroom to the right of the door is where you can sleep. It’s the most secure.”

  “Thanks. Can I have my weapon back?”

  He stared at her blankly. “Oh crap, here sorry.” he pulled the gun from his waistband, “just for the record, you aren’t supposed to have that in here, so maybe don’t mention to anyone I gave it to you.”

  “It’ll be our secret.” She smiled and disappeared into the bathroom. She couldn’t wait to feel the heat on her aching muscles. And knowing that someone was just on the other side of the door and watching her back made her giddy with excitement. For the first time in three years, she would be able to take a shower that lasted longer than two minutes.

  Caid listened to the shower come on and did his best to not picture the woman on the other side of the door.

  He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey that had been stocked. They frequently had a bottle of something in the house to calm the nerves of the witness they were hiding. Tonight, however, he needed it to cool his jets. He was locked in a house with a woman he was so attracted to he should be arrested for indecent thoughts.

  He was constantly reminding himself that although she was capable, she was still the lynchpin in his plan to bring down Charmont. That meant for the time being their relationship needed to stay strictly professional.

  He pulled out the burner phone he’d grabbed from a gas station he’d stopped at halfway here and phoned his sister.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey Soph.”

  “Everything okay, Caid? It’s late.” She yawned, and Caid felt bad for waking her up, but he’d needed to hear her voice so he knew she was safe.

  “Yeah, listen. I’m going to be out of touch for a bit, but I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What is it?”

  “Mom and Dad are home now, right?”

  “Yeah, they got in about two hours ago.”

  “Okay, good. Can you, Mike, and Maddox go and stay with them for a while? Have Mike take off work and just stay put.”

  “What’s going on, Caid?”

  “I’ve got this big case I’m working, and I just want to make sure you guys are safe. Just in case, please?”

  “All right, we’ll head over there first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, promise. How are you feeling?”

  “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This kid won’t get out of my ribs.”

  Caid laughed. “How’s the book coming along?”

  “It’s going; I’ve sent out query letters to different agents, so we’ll see if I get picked up.”

  “They’d be stupid not to. You’re the next best seller, sis.”

  “Thanks.” He could hear her smile over the phone. “We’ll see, I suppose.”

  “It’s going to be great. I’ll let you go. Just call me on this number once you guys are there.”

  “Will do. Love you, little brother.”

  “Love you too.” He hung up the phone and let out a breath of relief. He
was glad his stubborn sister hadn’t argued. His father was ex-Special Forces and had spent the better part of thirty years with the NYPD. If anyone could keep his family safe, it was that man.

  Caid’s mouth went dry as Jemma stepped from the bathroom. Her hair was still wet and pressed against the white tank she wore, making some of it see-through so he could see the purple lace of her bra. The pajama pants hung low on her waist and a sliver of skin peeked out in between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the pants.

  He needed to hurry up and get this case over with so he could see if there was anything between them. Because damn, she was something.

  “Night.”

  “Night,” he managed to choke out just as she disappeared into the bedroom.

  “All right, Caid,” he whispered to himself, “time for a cold-ass shower.”

  12

  Nightmares plagued Jemma again, and twice she found herself sitting up in bed, gun drawn. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead and looked at the bedside clock. Perfect. It was four thirty in the morning, and she was now wide awake.

  She pulled on her jacket and shoulder holster, then stuck her gun in the leather sleeve, and crept out of the room and into the bathroom. After brushing her teeth with one of the new brushes she had found last night under the sink, she walked quickly into the kitchen to make some coffee.

  Luckily, she found everything easy enough and managed to make it without waking Caid. After the steaming liquid she counted on for survival was in her mug, she disarmed the alarm using the code she saw Caid put in last night and stepped out onto the porch.

  The chill in the early morning air bit at her face, but she smiled. She loved the cold, and there was nothing more beautiful than New York in the fall. Well, except for New York in the winter. She loved everything about her home state. It was why she had never left. She should have fled the state – shit, probably the country like she had told Caid they needed to do just yesterday -- but every time she started to buy that ticket and leave for good, something held her back.

  She figured it was just as much the memories of her mother as it was the state itself. Nearly every part of New York City held some sort of memory for her. When her mother had been alive, she had taken Jemma out once a week to explore some new area. Then they had visited the same diner where she would leave Jemma with the owner to eat pancakes while she ran her errands. It was a routine Jemma had missed terribly once her mother had died.

  After her mother’s death, Jemma never went back to eat those pancakes again. She had considered going once she’d escaped. But fear had gripped her every time. She wasn’t sure she possessed the strength to walk into a place that reminded her way too much of the one person she had loved the most in the entire world.

  She closed her eyes as a tear threatened to fall. After all this time, she still couldn’t get the nightmare out of her head.

  The door opened behind her, and Caid stepped out. He looked at her surprised, and she could see he wasn’t quite awake yet.

  “Everything okay? Why are you out here?”

  “I like to breathe the fresh air with my coffee.”

  “There’s coffee made?”

  She nodded, and he disappeared back into the house with a grumble. A few minutes later, he stepped back out and sat next to her on the porch steps.

  “Did I wake you up?”

  He shook his head and took a drink from his coffee. “Nah. I’m a fairly early riser. Army ground that in.”

  “You were in the Army?”

  He nodded. “I did four years as an MP, and two tours.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “My dad wanted me to go career and go to ranger school, but I’d always wanted to be in the FBI.”

  “I had wanted to join the Army. Was planning on it when I turned eighteen.” She had figured it would be the easiest way to escape from her father.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Captive, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry.” He took another drink. “Why didn’t you go after you got out? You’ve been in hiding all this time, seems to me the military would be a good place to keep your distance.”

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Honestly, I was afraid. If someone ran my name through the system, I was worried he would find me.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “What’s the plan for today, Agent King?”

  “Not sure. Hopefully, we’ll hear back on what info is loaded onto that thumb drive. I’m going to go in and make sure I’ve got everything documented. Last thing I want is to have all our ducks in a row but not be able to move because I missed something small.”

  “You’re leaving me here?”

  “I will arrange for another agent to come watch the property. They won’t come in, and you will have your gun on you, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I won’t be gone long.” He stood and stretched. “Wanna work out?”

  “You have any equipment?”

  “The basement has some.”

  “Definitely.” She stood, ready to burn some of the stress off.

  “I didn’t think safe houses typically had gyms in the basement.”

  “This one does. Mainly because I pushed for it. Exercise is a stress reliever, and for agents who have to stay put for weeks at a time, it’s helpful. As well as for whoever it is they’re hiding.”

  She followed him down some stairs and into a large basement. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but damn it was nice. A treadmill and some free weights sat on the far wall and in a corner by the stairs a heavy bag was hung. Gloves were lined up neatly on a shelf near it, and the entire basement floor was covered with thick padding.

  It would definitely do.

  “I’m gonna hit the treadmill and warm up. After that, if you wanna spar, I’m game.”

  “This is awesome; thanks, Caid.”

  He grinned. “Anytime, Jemma”

  Jemma stared out the window as Caid drove away. She couldn’t help but feel the added stress with each second he was gone. She looked down at the phone he had given her. He said he wouldn’t be able to answer for about two hours because his other was in his desk, but that he would text her when he got to work.

  Then if she needed to hear his voice, she could call. The man who was watching the house seemed nice. He waved at Jemma from the driveway, and Jemma waved back. Caid said the agent was a good one, and wouldn’t enter the house unless he thought necessary.

  That gave her a small comfort. She stepped away from the window and walked over to the bookshelf that held a few leisure books. She lifted a Nora Roberts from the collection, and took a seat on the couch.

  She hadn’t even been sitting on that couch long enough to finish the first chapter when gunshots rang out, and Jemma’s heart began to pound. She ran to the window and saw the agent who had waved at her not minutes before lying face down in the driveway, while three armed men came for her.

  Caid turned on the radio as he hit the highway. He wished he’d just taken Jemma with him, but with how nervous she was around other FBI agents, he didn’t want to risk her having a panic attack. The safe house was secure and packed with food, books, and a gym. She would be better off there than at the bureau.

  At least that’s what he told himself. But the look on her face when he left made him wonder if she wasn’t growing as attached to him as he was to her. It had only been twenty-four hours since he’d found her trying to break into her own apartment, but it already felt as though she completed a part of him he hadn’t known was missing.

  “Damn,” he said and hit the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to be able to focus if he was worried about her all day. He exited and flipped around on the nearest service road to head back to the house.

  “We know you’re in there, Willow!” She closed her eyes. Eric. Her father’s second-in-command and a bigger psycho than he was. The bastard was the one who carried out most of Liam’s dirty work.

  “Come on, Jemma! Make th
is easier than it has to be.”

  She recognized that voice immediately, and she leaned up to look out of the window again. Of course he was dirty. Henry Jameson stood to the right of Eric. The other man she didn’t recognize, but based on his stance and the steel he was carrying, he was no amateur.

  There was a backdoor, so her only hope was to make it into the woods before they got into the house. She looked down at the phone. Caid wouldn’t be in his office yet, but she called the number he had programmed anyways.

  “Dammit!” she yelled and threw the useless phone.

  “Come on, little willow! Or is it sapling?”

  She crawled toward the back of the house and stood just as she was out of sight. She ran for the door and quickly undid the locks just as the front door was kicked in.

  She ran down the steps and stopped as she saw two more men standing at the tree line.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Sure, out for a walk.” She steadied her voice as they approached. Once they were within reach, she attacked.

  Without thinking, she threw punches, blocked, and landed a kick to the groin until both men were down. It was really too bad that her fight gave the others just enough time to get through the house.

  “Nice moves, bitch.”

  “Henry Jameson, is it? Can’t say I'm surprised you’re dirty,” she said as she turned around.

  One of the men she’d kicked the shit out of stood and yanked her arms behind her back. “You’ll fucking pay for that, bitch,” he said and shoved her to the ground. She fell into the dirt and scraped her knees.

  “Easy. I get you’re pissed, but we have to deliver her in one piece, remember?” Jameson ordered.

  “I don’t think the boss is gonna mind if she’s a little scuffed up,” the man commented.

  “If you can’t handle having your ass handed to you by a girl, you should improve your fighting skills. You can’t get along on muscle alone,” Jemma mocked as she was lifted to her feet.