“How can you be so fucking calm? They have a grenade launcher pointed at us!”

A large hand reached across the SUV and pulled my head down so that my face was in Zane’s crotch.

A loud pop sounded behind us, followed by earth-shattering explosion fifty feet to the side of the car. The SUV swayed from the force of the blast. Zane quickly righted the SUV, all while pressing his foot down to get some distance.

I sat up. “Zane, this is not the moment to request a blowjob. They shot a fucking grenade at us.” In the rearview mirror, I could see a billowing orange cloud from where the grenade had landed. The sedan was still behind us, keeping up with our SUV.

“A blowjob might reduce some of my tension. They won’t kill us. For some reason, the director wants you alive. We need to figure out what he wants with you.” Zane made a quick turn to the right, causing the tires to screech across the asphalt, and the smell of burning rubber wafted into the SUV.

Once we made it around the corner, Zane pulled his Glock from his holster and rolled down the windows to fire bullets at the car behind us. They dodged the shots and pointed guns back at us.

“How are they tracking us?” My words came out as a whisper.

“Not sure. I assume they used the NSA satellites and tracked our facial images,” he snapped, and she realized how stupid the question must have sounded. She used some of the equipment the CIA had when Sanchez asked her to do jobs. They weren’t safe anywhere. Ninety-eight percent of your life is caught on video, according to Jessica.

Zane hit the hands-free button on the steering wheel and barked Brock’s name. “Why are you not calling me on a burner phone.”

“We’re being chased.”

Through the phone, I could hear the clicking of Brock’s fingers on a keyboard. “Where the hell are you?” Brock demanded.

“We are on Interstate 64, heading east, toward the airstrip.”

There was a lengthy pause before Brock’s voice came across the speakers. “I have eyes on you. You have company five miles ahead.”

“I’m more worried about the assholes behind us.” Shots rang out. The back window of the SUV shattered. Broken glass sprayed into the car. I could feel the shards hitting the back of my seat.

Zane gunned the engine. The SUV lurched forward.

“Are you guys alive?” Brock asked.

My mouth was dry, but somehow, I responded. “Yes.”

“Take your next turn in a hundred feet.”

Wanting to help, I sat up to assist with an extra set of eyes. I couldn’t see anything up ahead except trees. Is Brock sending us into a forest to go off-roading? He needed to send a spy plane or something to blow these people up.

“Hold on!” Zane’s demand had me grasping the side door handle with all of my might. Zane rounded the corner, and the force of it made it feel as if the car was about to roll. Somehow, we made it around the corner, all four tires hitting the ground with a thud.

The car behind us wasn’t as lucky. When they took the corner, their vehicle flipped with the defining sound of metal crunching. Zane brought our vehicle to a screeching halt.

Is Zane losing his mind? Why is he stopping?

I heard Brock say, “Go!”

Zane protested. “We need a photo of these guys. If we can ID them, it will help us pull more information together.”

Brock’s voice came over the speakerphone. “Zane, we don’t have time. They must have radioed the other men. Head straight to the airstrip. In a thousand feet, take a right. Head straight for about two miles.”

We had broken through the trees. Corn was the only thing I could see for miles. “Brock, I think you are looking at the wrong satellite. I don’t see a road up ahead.”

I heard Zane chuckle. “He wants us to take a shortcut through the cornfield. Hold on to the dash. This might get a little bumpy.”

Zane turned straight into the cornfield. Visibility went to zero. The SUV tore through the corn like butter.

“Are you sure we are going in the correct direction? I can’t see a thing.” It felt like we were driving in circles.

Zane pointed to the compass on the dashboard. I guess when you couldn’t see the road, you followed a compass.

“In a hundred feet, you will come upon a road. Take a right, and in sixty miles, you will be at the airstrip.”

Satellite imagery would tell them where we were headed. “Are you sure the airstrip is safe? We might be going into a trap.”

“Already took care of that. We have three different planes leaving at the same time as you guys. They are all flying to different locations. We have people dressed as you on the other plane, and we have new identities waiting for you on the plane. Antonio and John are on a flight to New York as we speak. We played a little shuffle game with their plane, too. I will keep an eye on the airstrip to make sure no one is heading that way.”

Wow. Brock and Antonio were good at the spy game.

“I hope you loaded Antonio up with enough ammo for me also.”

“Already done. Talk to you on the other side.” Brock clicked the line off.

Zane continued down the highway for a sixty-mile stretch. We encountered no more agents. The wind whipping in the blown-out window of the SUV was not only a distraction, but it caused the cold to seep into the vehicle.

* * *

The airplane screamed money. Before this morning’s excursion, it had been years since I had been so frightened for my life or anyone else’s. I’d heard stories about Antonio and Brock and how their missions would go. Hearing the story from my friends and being at the forefront were two different things. Somehow, it had worked out. We arrived at the airstrip and boarded the plane. The plane door was shut to the outside world, and we were one step closer to my sister.

Zane sat next to me in the plush leather seats. He reached over and grabbed my hand. It was still shaking. The last set of men who had come after us hadn’t seemed to care if we lived or died. It was only thanks to Zane’s driving skills and Brock’s hacking skills, that we were safe for the moment.

A young blonde in a flight attendant’s uniform approached us. “Is there anything I can get you, Mr. and Mrs. White?”

Brock was playing games again. “Our—”

Zane squeezed my hand. “Mrs. White will have red wine, and I will have a Scotch. Thank you.” She turned on her heels and headed to the front galley kitchen.

“Why didn’t you correct her?”

The man's actions irritated me. The game-playing was getting old, and we had only been on the mission for three days. I should have been grateful he was still helping me after getting shot at today.

Zane leaned his head back against the seat. “Brock didn’t give our real names for a reason. Why change something he did to protect us?”

“You guys need to make a manual for these missions. It’s hard when you haven’t gone to spy school. The last mission I had for the director was setting up malware on the computer of the Prime Minister of Russia. It took me two days, and I had a clone of his communication funneling into a storage device. Oh, fuck, I forgot to give him the data I retrieved.”

Zane was silent. He reached up and ran his hand through his scruff.

“You want to tell me why you are just now bringing up that op? This could be the reason he wants you. He might think you overheard or saw something and is cutting you out. Sanchez might think you turned on him, and he wants to bring you in to make it easier to find out what you know.” Zane reached for his glass of Scotch and downed it in one gulp.

The director had contacted me before Jessica was kidnapped, and I had set up the malware to collect the data. But I hadn’t yet logged in to pull the data off. I’d been dodging the devil's calls because I thought they were about Jessica. Zane was pretty smart for figuring that out so fast. Working on so many different projects, I sometimes forgot which ones were still going.

“When we get to the hotel, I’ll find a computer and pull the data off. We can sift through the information and see what he was looking for.”

The virus had been running for weeks. Hopefully, the server had enough storage capacity to have collected everything we needed. I could smack myself for forgetting.

“Can Bridget access the data?”

She could, but I didn’t want to drag Bridget into trouble any further than I already had. She had a family to think about.

Zane reached over and grabbed me around the waist. It was effortless for him to pull me on to his lap. I knew the gesture was intimate, and I should have fought back. But, the day had been draining, and it felt good to be in his arms.

“Yes.” I grabbed the cell phone and texted Bridget the information she needed to give Brock.

“No more talk about the op. I want to know why you left my bed last night.”

I couldn’t have this conversation sitting in his lap. The harder I tried to move, the tighter Zane’s arms became.

“Go on, Red,” Zane encouraged. “Tell me why.”

“Why do you care? Last night was to scratch an itch.”

“I highly doubt that’s all it meant to you. If it were just an itch, you would have still been there in the morning.”

This man was dangerous. He wanted to talk about emotions. Those are best kept buried in the deepest parts of your soul. If you let people in, they could hurt you.

“You could have any woman you wanted. Why are you pressing me?”

He squeezed my wrist and slowly dragged his thumb over the back of my arm. The touch felt so right. But, this man needed someone who wasn’t damaged goods.

“I’ve traveled the world. I’m at a point in my life where I want to think about the future. One-night stands do not appeal to me anymore. Last night, we had a connection, and you ran. Why can’t we see where it might go? I’m not saying we need to get married tomorrow.”

“We can’t have a future. When you find out what’s wrong with me…” I was beyond frustrated. Every word he spoke made me think there was hope.

Zane shifted me on his lap so he could see my eyes. He ran his hand down my face. At his touch, my breathing increased, and my heart raced.

Holy shit! This man can make my blood boil.

“Sophie, has any man ever made you feel this chemistry? If I wanted a quick lay, I would get one. I don’t. I want to be with you. Let's see where this goes. I don’t know why you keep acting like you’re damaged, when you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I was damaged. The man we were after took the choice of having kids away from me many years ago. No man would want to be with a woman who can’t give him a son or daughter.

The pilot’s voice came over the speaker, letting us know we needed to prepare for landing. I scurried of Zane’s lap to the other seat.

He let out a sigh. “I will drop it for now, but this conversation is far from over.”