When she stumbled, he steadied her and risked a look behind them.
Pursuit was half a block back and gaining.
“Come on, sweetheart, only a little farther,” he urged, the endearment slipping out before he could call it back, before he could flash on how right it felt to say it aloud after having typed it so many times.
“I can’t,” she cried, her steps faltering and slowing. Her lungs heaved in great gasps and he could feel her trembling. She’d finally reached the end of her reserves, and he couldn’t blame her.
He also couldn’t let her stop.
Hoping to buy them a little more time, he turned and fired off three more shots. Their pursuers scattered again, only this time not all of them made it. One of the punks took a bullet and went down, sprawled in the street as he writhed in pain. Ty felt a flash of remorse, but he couldn’t let it slow him down.
“Lean on me.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest, just looped an arm around her waist and supported most of her weight as they ran on into the darkness. Another fifty yards and they reached a cross street, where he saw the edge of the commercial district diagonally across from them.
Along with the signs of vicious looting.
The few windows not covered by security gratings or metal pull-down accordions were smashed in, the storefront contents either taken or broken and scattered across the sidewalk. Small fires still smoldered in places, leaving the air thick with smoke.
“Are they gone?” Gabby said, her voice thin through her labored breathing.
“The main action is gone, but those other guys are right behind us.” Ty surveyed his limited options and picked the nearest potential hiding spot. “This way. Hurry.”
They raced across the intersection and he boosted her through a broken storefront window, then followed close behind. There was no alarm, no emergency lights, suggesting that the backup batteries had died sometime during the blackout.
“Chocolate,” Gabby said quietly. “I smell chocolate and…cigarette smoke.”
Ty sniffed and found the air thick with the heavy scents. “It’s a candy store. I don’t know about the cigarettes. The looters, probably.” He urged her down from the front display. “Come on. We need to get out of sight.”
Debris crunched underfoot, making the going slippery and uncertain.
He didn’t dare use the flashlight, knowing it’d shine beacon-bright in comparison to the rest of the storefronts, so he tried to feel his way deeper into the shop with Gabby in tow. He made it maybe six steps before his foot knocked against a solid object and something fell with a loud crash.
“Damn it.” He froze, listening for a response. When there were no shouts, no sounds of approaching footfalls, he blew out a breath. “We got lucky that time. I wouldn’t count on it happening again.”
“Let me lead.”
Ty stifled his immediate protest, seeing the logic. She’d spent almost half her life feeling her way around in the darkness.
He took her hand, not as her guide this time, but as her follower. “I’m all yours.”
He hadn’t meant the double entendre, but he didn’t call it back, either, and a strange sort of intimacy draped itself around them as he followed her lead.
The air grew thick as they worked their way past upended display tables, stepping on candy the looters had smashed underfoot. Moonlight filtered in through the broken window, providing some light, but Ty forced himself to let Gabby choose her course. Then, once they turned a corner and followed what felt like a short hallway, the light cut out, leaving him completely in the dark.
Liam’s gibe ghosted through his brain. Are you afraid of the dark?
As he followed Gabby’s tugging hand and whispered directions, trying not to crash into anything else, part of Ty gained new appreciation for what she must go through on a daily basis. Another part of him wished like hell he could turn on the flashlight. Sensitivity to the physically challenged was one thing. A federal agent without light or night vision was another. He felt toothless and vulnerable, and hated both.
She led him through the retail shop to a series of back rooms, and then guided his fingertips to a metal door that was locked on the inside.
“Emergency exit?” she whispered.
“I think so. Nice job,” he whispered, and felt her breath feather on his face, warning him that they were too close for comfort.
Ty stepped back and reached down to unlock the dead bolt. He turned the handle slowly, then eased the door open a crack and paused.
The sounds of active fighting came through all too loud and clear. Bullhorn-amplified official orders to cease and desist were nearly drowned out beneath the roar of a mob and the sounds of shouts and shots. Flames licked the windows of a cement-faced building not fifty yards away, and a man charged past, screaming victory and holding a shotgun over his head. He was silhouetted black against the orange light for half a second and then was gone.
Keeping a death grip on the doorknob and angling his body to resist if anyone tried to yank the door open, Ty eased the panel shut and threw the bolt.
Then blew out a breath.
“That was way too close,” he said, knowing with quick, brutal certainty that they would’ve been in serious trouble if the rioters had seen them. They were lucky they’d gotten away with that much of a sneak-and-peak.
Then again, with active fighting out the back door and Snake and his boys at the front, they were in pretty serious trouble as it was.
“We need to find someplace to hide,” he whispered. “Someplace safe, with a sturdy door and a lock.”
He was moments away from palming the flashlight and looking around when Gabby froze and squeezed his hand, hard. Moments later he heard it, too.
Footsteps crunched on glass, followed by the rattle of someone shaking the mangled storefront grate.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a voice called in high falsetto. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
But they would, Ty knew. Snake and his gang were hopped up on adrenaline and maybe something more. As far as they were concerned, law had ceased existing when the power went out, and it was back to jungle rules. They wanted Gabby for some fun and games, but even more, they wanted his weapons. Without firearms, they couldn’t stand up to the other, better-armed looters, which put them at the lowest rung of the hierarchy that’d taken over the south side of Boston.
Armed with knives and pipes, Snake and his crew were seriously dangerous. With the guns and thirty-plus rounds, they’d be looking for some serious trouble.
Part of Ty itched to get the drop on the kid and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. But he knew damn well that his priorities didn’t include schooling wannabe gangbangers, so he urged Gabby to the side of the short hallway, where he could just make out a metal door with a knob and a dead-bolt lock.
“Stay behind me.” He barely mouthed the words, but she understood, and managed to wedge herself between the wall and his body as he found the knob by touch and went to work.
Thanking the forethought that’d prompted him to slap on his web utility belt, he slipped a pair of thin, delicate metal strips from the belt and inserted them one at a time into the keyhole on the lock.
There was a time for kicking in doors, and this wasn’t it. Thankfully, the instructors responsible for both his military and agency training had been unusually egalitarian in their methods, tempering brute force with practical clandestine skills like hot-wiring cars and picking locks.
He wasn’t the best break-and-enter man he knew, though, and a prickle of sweat tickled his brow as the seconds ticked away and the jimmies slipped inside the locking mechanism. He could hear voices in the outer shop, cursing and muttering, along with several sets of footsteps. Had the whole gang followed them into the store? How had they known? Had they heard the noise? Had they—
“It’s all gone,” a plaintive voice whined from the front, and was echoed with a rising grumble of complaint. “Jeez, Snake, I thought you sai
d there’d be food here.”
“And I told you to quit your bitching and stop thinking about your stomach, for chrissake,” the leader’s voice snapped in return, sounding closer than Ty would’ve guessed, as though the bastard had already reached the corner near the hallway.
Come on, come on! He forced himself not to muscle the lock picks, knowing the key to the operation was feel rather than brute strength. His fingers itched for his guns, but that wasn’t the right answer. Better to hide than kill a dozen men in front of Gabby and risk attracting ten times that many from the other side of the alley door.
“You sure you saw them duck in here?” It was Snake’s voice again, muffled this time, as though he’d turned back to the main room.
There was a grumble, and Snake’s voice sharpened with annoyance. “Come on, people. Do I have to do every damn thing myself? Fan out. Check the other stores. And if you find food, don’t forget I have first dibs. I’ll finish checking this place and meet you on the street in fifteen.”
Footsteps sounded nearby, crunching on chocolate wrappers and candy-covered peanuts.
Ty was seconds away from dropping the picks and going for his 9mm when the lock gave with a click. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door, forcing himself to move slowly when he wanted to hurry.
Silently, he guided Gabby into the room and then followed and pulled the door shut. He held his breath while he twisted the dead bolt on the inside, hoping to hell it wasn’t the kind that engaged with a loud click. It wasn’t, but the quiet snick of the lock sounded gunshot-loud to Ty, and from the tightening of Gabby’s fingers where they dug into his upper arm, she thought so, too.
A quick, finger-shielded scan with the flashlight showed that they were in a small, windowless office with a desk against one wall and several filing cabinets against the other.
Once Ty had assured himself there was no other way in or out, he flicked off the light, lest a stray reflection give them away.
He held his breath and strained to hear Snake’s footsteps out in the hallway, but the metal panel was too thick. That was both good and bad. Good because it’d be hell to kick in; bad because they had no idea what was going on in the hall.
Turning, he leaned close to Gabby, so his lips were close to her ear when he whispered on a puff of breath, “I can’t hear him. Can you?”
“No,” she whispered, equally quietly, tipping her head so she could speak into his ear, leaving them pressed cheek to cheek, wrapped together in the darkness. “I think we’re safe in here.”
Heat flared through Ty’s body, and warning bells went off in the back of his brain as survival instincts told him to back off, to back away while he still could. But those alarms wound up buried beneath the feel of her, the feel of all those lush curves pressed against him, and the brush of her thick, glorious hair at his temple and jaw.
He inhaled, intending to push away from her, but the moment he caught her scent, that of woman and springtime laced with an overtone of the chocolate from the front room, a surge of lust punched through his system, swamping his defenses before he was even aware they were under attack. Or maybe he’d been aware all along, ever since she’d stepped out of the shadows and the woman he’d pretended to fall for online had become real.
And maybe, in a way, his pretend feelings had become real, too. Impossible, but real.
He was aware that she’d gone still against him, not even breathing. Her heartbeat was anything but still, though. He could feel the pounding at her throat, the pulse of heat and blood.
“Are you scared?” he asked quietly, aware of the gangbanger outside on one level, the woman beside him on another. There should’ve been no room for sex in the situation, no room for even the thought of it, but that was the heat that roared through him, and the heat he thought he caught off her.
“No,” she said, equally quietly. “Or rather, yes, I’m scared, but at the same time I feel safe. With you.”
“You shouldn’t.” His voice had gone rough. “I’m not feeling very safe right now.”
He expected her to back off, to back away. Hell, he almost hoped she would, because it’d be the best thing for both of them if they walked away from the temptation now. But she’d stolen his will with a light touch of breath, freezing him in place and leaving the decision up to her.
Instead of backing away, she lifted her chin and turned her head so her lips grazed the sensitive skin beneath his jawline. “Then aren’t we lucky the door locks on the inside?”
He had a flash of thinking her voice didn’t sound right, that the light, teasing tone could’ve belonged to someone else, maybe the girl she’d been before the accident, or the woman she’d pretended to be online. It sounded false and unnatural, and that should’ve brought those alarm bells right to the forefront of his brain. But before the warning could sound, before he could pull back and figure out what the hell was going on and why he’d gotten involved with her when he’d planned on keeping his distance, she pressed her lips to the hollow beneath his ear, sending a whiplash of heat coiling through his midsection.
And he was lost.
Chapter 8
Dear Ty:
I know you’re not online, but just in case you get a chance to check your e-mail I wanted to wish you a happy Independence Day. You might not be in the military anymore—my friend Maria thinks it’s totally hot that you’re ex-Special Forces, by the way—but I’m guessing the Fourth is important to you. You’re not the sort of guy who waves flags and joins parades, of course…but from what you’ve told me, I know your loyalty goes straight to the bone. And, wow, didn’t this get heavy all of a sudden? Blame it on the first heat wave of the year here in Boston. Or maybe it’s me. This is the first summer I was relieved when classes let out. At the same time, I’m restless. The prototype is almost done and I have a meeting with a patent agent, but I keep thinking to myself “this is it?” Ah…ignore me. I’m in a weird mood. Happy Fourth, and don’t let any bad guys get at you or your boss.
[Sent by CyberGabby; July 4, 11:01:42 p.m.]
3:00 a.m., August 3 2 Hour and 38 Minutes until Dawn Gabby knew it was crazy—worse, it was stupid, given their situation—but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from leaning into his solid body and wondering what if?
What if she hadn’t gotten into Nathan’s Camaro that night? What if they hadn’t crashed? What if her parents had believed her about the headaches and blurry vision? What if the doctors had caught the problem earlier? What if?
She could no more stop the what-ifs from parading through her mind than she could keep herself from touching her lips to the strong column of Ty’s neck, tasting salt, tasting man. She knew she was pushing the envelope, giving life to the wickedly impulsive girl inside her, the one who’d been responsible for all the bad things in her life.
But what if, this one time, those impulses could give her something good instead?
Thinking that, knowing it was impossible, she turned her lips to his.
Ty met her halfway.
The kiss was raw and openmouthed, buzzing with adrenaline and attraction, with the knowledge of safety in the small room and danger beyond. Heat flowed through her, threatening to consume her from the inside, spreading from the points where her body met his. Her breasts tightened to hard, wanting buds, and lust flared in her gut, warming and softening her inner muscles in an instant.
Stunned by the fierce, greedy response that was so unlike her normal staid self, Gabby nearly pulled back. This isn’t right, she thought on a sudden slice of panic. This is dangerous.
But though the woman she’d grown into knew all the reasons she shouldn’t return Ty’s kiss, the inner party girl said otherwise, and somehow she’d gained the upper hand when Gabby hadn’t been looking.
That wild, unpredictable, fun girl leaned into Ty, wrapped herself around him and hung on for the ride.
He slanted his mouth across hers and sucked gently, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Dark flavors assaulted her, mysterious a
nd deep and vivid. Colors swirled across her consciousness, mimicking the flow of heat and sensation.
She touched her tongue to his and saw red sparkles on a hot-purple backdrop, slid her hands up the hard planes of his chest and saw a streak of royal blue. Her fingers found the edge of his shoulder holster. Tracing the leather and nylon straps, she added the weapon to her mental image of him.
Oddly, though she’d known he was armed, she hadn’t thought of the guns when she’d pictured him. She hadn’t thought of the darkness across the city, or of whether he wore a badge or carried cuffs. Her mental image had been set by his first online description, with too-long blond hair flopping into his eyes and a too-infrequent smile.
Now, touching him, she added reality to the mental picture, added the feel of him, the taste of him and the beat of his heart.
She’d never been one of those people who “saw” others by touching their faces. To her, noses, jaws and lips all felt the same. At least they had before.
Now, touching Ty and burying her fingers in his thick hair, she felt the faint wave in the soft strands. Cupping his face in her hands, she felt the squareness of his jaw and his high, slashing cheekbones. Drawing her fingers down the column of his neck, across his broad, muscular shoulders to his strong arms, she envisioned the man she was coming to know.
And in seeing the reality, she teetered a little close to the edge of falling.
They strained together, kissing, touching, breathing the same air. Wonder shimmered through her alongside fear, and this time the fear won out.
Not by much, though. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was breathing hard; they both were. Her blood buzzed with heat and lust, and her head drummed with the mad, insane compulsion to keep kissing him, to go further, to damn the consequences and become lovers though they barely knew each other, and danger was mere feet away.
It was that very danger that compelled her, she knew. It drew her. It commanded her. It made her do stupid things that felt so good at the time, then lived on to haunt her. Like this.
Lights Out Page 11
