Chapter Twelve
Spots appeared before Isabella’s eyes before she realized she’d forgotten to breathe. She strained to hear descending footsteps, watching for Alex’s signal. Would they make it out of here? She needed to feel the tension leave her body, to feel her heart return to normal.
Her heart rate hadn’t been normal since Alex had kissed her in the elevator.
Okay, since she danced just for him.
Would her heart ever be normal again?
She watched him cross the lobby, his stride confident, a man on a mission, a man afraid of nothing. But she recognized the minute he saw the enemy, saw the line of his shoulders tighten, saw him nod to someone she couldn’t see, behind a pillar. She wished he’d taken her with him. She felt completely vulnerable here.
He looked over and motioned to her. She burst out of the door just as she saw the feet of her pursuer out of the corner of her eye. Racing barefoot across the lobby, she joined Alex at the valet stand, where he got his keys as if he had all the time in the world. He tipped the valet and they stepped out onto the driveway, where the truck waited.
Now he was a blur of motion, opening the door for her. She vaulted in while he walked around the front, tossed the duffel between them and put the car in gear. Behind them, hurrying footsteps raced out onto the driveway.
“Get down,” he commanded, and swung the car onto the road.
She dropped to the floorboard, facing the seat, and clung to it as he whipped the truck left, then right, so the vehicle swayed on its shocks. Alex glanced in the rearview mirror repeatedly, his jaw tight, but everything else about him relaxed.
In his element.
“What now?” she asked.
“We make sure they’re not behind us, then we call Lionel.”
“Are they behind us?”
“Can’t tell. Two cabs pulled out after us, but they don’t seem to be in a hurry to catch up.”
“They don’t need to be. This isn’t the movies. They just need to know where we’re going.”
He glanced at her, then accelerated. His face was grim when he looked in the rearview mirror. He turned, then turned again. Nausea welled up in her as she held onto the seat and the doorway, her spine bumping the glove box. She hated not being able to see where she was going, just like when they’d dropped off the cliff in the jungle. But she stifled that. She would not give him something else to worry about. She manned up and held on.
His phone rang. Isabella jolted, Alex swore, then dug the phone out of his breast pocket and tossed it to Isabella. She stared at it a moment.
“Open it,” he snapped.
She did and held it to her ear.
“Are you going to make me chase you all the way to Texas?” the gruff voice demanded.
“Who is this?” she asked, her voice high and tight to her own ears.
“Danes. The one who made sure those assholes didn’t follow you. Let me talk to Alex.”
She lifted the phone to Alex, who scowled. “It’s Danes,” she said. “He’s following us.”
Alex looked in the rearview mirror again before he took the phone. “Yeah?”
“Pull over, Shepard.”
“Where?”
“That McDonald’s looks good.”
Alex made a sharp right. He flipped the phone closed and tossed it on the seat in front of Isabella. “Stay there.” He shoved open the door, alert, ready to draw his gun.
A cab pulled into the lot behind them. Alex tensed as the back door opened. Beyond him, she saw the big man step out and cast Alex a chiding look.
Alex glanced at Isabella and dropped his hand away from his gun. “You can come out.”
She rose slowly from the floorboards, not realizing how tight she’d been curled up until she had to force her muscles to relax. She unfolded herself from the truck and stood by Alex on shaking legs. She didn’t fail to notice that he angled himself between her and Danes. Did he not trust this man?
Realization hit hard. Did he trust anyone?
“They didn’t follow?”
“I made sure they couldn’t,” Danes said in his rough voice. “The next step is to get you out of town. I have a hunting cabin near the Everglades. There’s a Walmart on the way, you can get the girl some shoes.” He gestured to her bare feet.
“We can’t leave town,” Isabella protested, her voice shrill. “I have to find my son.”
Danes pointed a scolding finger at her. “Young lady, those men were there to kill you, to kill both of you, like they killed those others in the fire tonight. You won’t find the kid if you’re dead.”
“We also won’t find him if we’re hiding.” She whirled on Alex. “You promised you’d help me find him.”
“I will.”
He looked exhausted, the circles beneath his eyes dark, strain tightening his body. Strain she’d caused him because he was protecting her.
“I’ll have my men on it,” he continued. “But it makes sense for us to lay low. We don’t even know where to look.”
“Texas, Jorge said.” She recognized the desperation in her own voice.
He sighed. “Yeah, well, Texas is a big state. Just a couple of days. Lionel can leave a trail for them to follow, and when the heat is off, we’ll look again. By then, we may have a better idea where.”
“We must have been getting close for them to be trying to kill us.” The idea terrified her. She’d been prepared for Santiago to take her back. She didn’t want to think what would happen to her son if Santiago killed her.
Alex and Lionel exchanged looks. What did that mean? She curled her fingers into fists and resisted the urge to slug Alex’s arm. That would be childish. He’d just risked his life for her, after all.
“Give the master sergeant your credit card, he’ll use it, heading toward Texas. They’ll follow that trail, and not us.”
She turned back and dug into her purse. How would she ever find her child? She might have just run away from her chance to find Hector. She sat on the floorboard of the driver’s side of the truck, her feet barely reaching the asphalt of the parking lot, trembling with frustration and fear. Would she ever reunite with Hector?
Alex stepped toward the tailgate of the truck, talking low with Lionel, who passed him something, then turned back to the cab.
Alex returned to the driver’s side door and looked down at her. “Get in. I’ll get you something to eat, you’ll feel better.”
She crawled over to her side silently. What choice did she have? She’d never find Hector on her own, and even if she did, how would she get him away from Santiago?
He started the car and pulled through the drive-through of the McDonald’s. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice flat.
“Doesn’t matter.”
He stared at her a minute. “You need protein,” he decided and ordered a selection from the menu.
Only when he pulled the bag in and scents filled the car did she realize how hungry she was. He sucked on his shake as he pulled back onto the road and she dug into the fries.
As they headed out of town, the only words they exchanged were “Dig out my burger,” and “Is there any ketchup?”
The tension eased out of her body and helplessness took its place. She stared out the window at the passing city and wondered where her child could be. Was it even possible to find him? The probability seemed overwhelmingly against them.
They stopped at a Walmart on the edge of town. They split up and met back at the register. Alex checked the Keds she’d picked up with a scowl, which deepened when he saw the three thick romance novels in her basket.
“You still need your goddamn white knights? We’re living on my money now,” he said.
“I have cash,” she retorted, pulling her basket back defensively. “I need them.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to put his products on the belt. Canned meat, canned vegetables, toilet paper, Nutri-Grain bars, packaged fruit, bottled water, new boxers. Practical.
Condoms. A dozen.
She looked from the box to him. “I don’t know what you’re going to be doing, but I’m going to be reading.”
“In case the opportunity comes up. Wouldn’t do to be caught without.”
“Boy Scout,” she muttered. In retaliation, she grabbed two bags of chips, two jars of dip, two Diet Cokes and five candy bars and threw them in her basket. He didn’t even blink when she unloaded her products.
She did wince when the total took more of a chunk out of her cash than she expected. He grinned as he hefted her bags as well as his to cart to the truck.
“Gotta be careful,” he said on the way out. “We don’t know how long we’ll be without a cash flow.” He loaded the bags with the cans and the bottled water into the back of the truck, tossed the rest under her feet in the cab. “Even when you get Hector back, you gotta think of what you’re going to do next. Won’t be easy getting a job.”
“No.” She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“What kind of thing were you looking at?”
Now he wanted to talk? Was he trying to guarantee that he would use some of those condoms and the price wouldn’t be wasted?
“I don’t know. I don’t exactly have a lot of qualifications. I didn’t finish college, I’ve only had one job.”
“Which you don’t want to do with a kid.”
“Which I may have to.”
“When he finds out what you are? Then what?”
She hated even thinking that he was right. She didn’t want a job she’d have to hide from her child, and she didn’t want a job where she’d leave him at night, not in the long run. But maybe for now. “He’s young, Alex.”
“You think you can hide it from him.”
“I can make a good living at it. Just tonight I made sixty bucks, with one dance.”
“Twenty of that was mine.”
Anger snapped her head up. “You want it back?”
“I’m just saying. You need to get a real job.”
She couldn’t think of that now. She shoved her hair back from her face. “Let me get through one thing at a time.”
“No way to live your life if you have a kid.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the only way I know how to do it.”
The cabin, an hour and a half away from any civilization, was a glorified single-wide trailer, flat roofed with a screened-in porch built onto the front, filled with fishing accessories, including a canoe. The whole place smelled of fish and mildew, overlying a lingering scent of burnt cooking oil. Alex turned on the light as they walked into the kitchenette. The counter was cluttered with dishes—clean, at least—and a line of dead ants. Bleh. Alex put their Walmart bags on the linoleum table.
She reached over to crank open a window to get the smell out, but Alex stopped her, pointing to a hole in the screen the size of a quarter.
“We’ll get eaten alive.”
“Well, see if any windows have good screens. I can’t stand the smell.” She looked at him. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“I’ve smelled worse.” He made his way toward the bathroom, opened the door and jerked his head back. “Okay, maybe not. Christ.” He stepped in, and she heard him running water in the tub, felt the vibration of the water hitting the fiberglass through the floorboards. Then he flushed the toilet and swore more. “I don’t think he uses the tub to bathe,” he muttered. “But I did get a window open in there.”
“God.” She dreaded the bedroom but followed him down the narrow hall.
“It’s the carpet you smell,” he said. “Gets damp, he comes tramping in from fishing. Not pleasant, but not like a dead body or anything.” He turned on the light in the bedroom.
She looked around his shoulder. “You may as well take those condoms back because I am not getting naked in that.”
“We should have brought our own sheets,” he agreed, eyeing the polyester bedspread with spots of mildew on the corner. The pillows were flat and yellowed, with no cases.
“And disinfectant spray.” Isabella turned to look in the cabinets around the small room, where she found thin towels. “We can cover the pillows with these.”
“The sheets aren’t too bad,” Alex said after ripping the covers back to the end of the bed. He dropped onto the mattress that didn’t so much as bounce, and lay back. “Hell, I’m so tired I could sleep on the carpet.”
She inspected the screens around the room, found two that were secure enough that she felt safe opening the window, and the small trailer was filled with sounds of wilderness, different from the ones in Honduras. Of course, she hadn’t opened the windows there, Santiago never would have allowed it.
She carried the thin towels to the bed and sat beside Alex. His eyes were closed, his arm thrown over his eyes, but she knew he wasn’t asleep yet.
Outside she heard a rumbling growl, followed by a kind of bark. She jolted and moved closer to Alex.
“What is that?”
“Alligator.”
She whipped her head around to stare at him, grabbing his hand in panic, then looked past him out the window. “Are you kidding me?”
Lazily he laced his fingers through hers. “Bull. Mating call.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
“Have them in North Carolina. Don’t worry. It won’t come in.”
“I won’t go out.” Ever. “So what now?”
He shook his head, arm still crooked over his face. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
She opened her mouth to press, but sensed his exhaustion and frustration, so instead asked, “The tub is pretty disgusting?”
“Whole bathroom is,” he muttered, eyes still closed.
With a sigh, she pushed herself off the bed. She found a worn washcloth and towel, took Alex’s toilet paper from the bag and headed in.
The toilet had a black ring at the water level, the tub was grimy, but the sink was relatively clean. She ran warm water and stripped to her underwear, careful not to let her clothes touch the floor—no telling when they’d be able to wash, and she didn’t want to carry this smell around with them.
With the hand soap, she cleaned quickly. She could still smell Alex on her. God, so much had happened since they’d made love, and that had only been a few hours ago. She washed his scent off, washed her feet and rinsed. Walking on top of her shoes, she made her way naked back into the bedroom, where Alex was on his side, toward the open window, asleep. She tugged his duffel open, found her kitten pajamas and slipped them on. Only once she was dressed and on the bed beside Alex, did she start to cry.
The heavy weight of Alex’s arm across her waist woke her. She had no idea what time it was, if it was dark because of the time or because they were surrounded by trees. Alex’s breath was even, warm on the back of her neck. She’d never slept with a man all night, other than Alex, and even then he hadn’t touched her in his sleep, as if he’d had to keep his guard up.
Why had he let his guard down now?
She turned onto her back. She couldn’t see him but stroked his stubbled jaw. His breathing stuttered, evened out. Awake or asleep? Preferring to think he was asleep, she continued her exploration, gliding her touch down his chest.
She cupped him through his pants. He caught his breath, definitely awake now, heavy and warm against her palm.
“Bella,” he murmured, but it wasn’t a protest.
She’d never had a man to turn to in the night, never had someone she could depend on to keep her safe. She squeezed, just a little, and he moaned, found her mouth in the dark, his breath musky with sleep. She didn’t release him, stroking him to fullness as he unbuttoned her top, pushed down her pants.
The rustle of cellophane filled the room and he pushed her away, was over her, inside her, rocking her, filling her, fulfilling her.
She ran her fingers down his back to curve over his ass, holding him to her, arching toward him, her mouth hungry beneath his. He scooped her hair back with one hand, lifted her hips with the other and they found a rhythm that pleased them both. She didn’t want it to end, didn’t want the pleasure, the connection to end, but with one shift of his hips, she tumbled over the edge and dragged him with her.
They lay together afterwards. Tangled together, they fell asleep.
Hours later, Isabella woke to find herself alone, sheets pulled over her naked body. Sunlight dappled the bed, filtered through the leaves of the trees and the trailer’s dirty windows. Outside, birds competed for loudest cry. She must have been tired to sleep through that. She heard movement in the kitchen and, finding her pajamas and shoes, she made her way down the hall.
Alex crouched in front of the refrigerator in his boxers and T-shirt, scrubbing. The sour scent filled the air, along with the tinny sound of the little radio on the counter, talking about the shuttle launch.
“Cell phone doesn’t work out here,” he said without looking up. “I’m surprised that thing does. I cleaned the bathroom too. You can take a bath if you want.”
She pushed her hair out of her face and scanned the trailer, which didn’t improve in daylight. It did smell better, though, the combination of cleaning solution and coffee making it almost homey. “How long have you been up?” How long are we staying here, she wanted to ask.
“Couple of hours.”
“What time is it?”
He pushed to his feet to rinse off the rag in the sink. “Just after noon.”
She jolted. “So late?”
“We got in about three, so, yeah. Don’t worry. You needed the sleep.”
Still, she’d lost all that time, time they could have been looking for her son. She bit back the words. There was nothing to be done about it, and to harp on it would seem petty.
“You made coffee,” she said instead, reaching across the trailer for the small pot.
“Mug there is clean. There are Nutri-Grain bars in one of those bags there. If you want, I can heat up some chili or something.”
“No, it’s okay.” She lifted the steaming mug to her mouth and wondering where Domestic Alex had come from. The coffee smelled wonderful, and she wasn’t ordinarily a coffee drinker.
For a moment the trailer was silent except for the softly accented female voice on the radio, one of the astronauts from the shuttle flight.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked.
He sat back on his heels. “You shower, we drive somewhere to get a signal, call my team, let them know we’re okay, see what they’ve found out.”
“Okay. We have a plan.” She set the mug on the table behind her, feeling much lighter.
When he pushed himself to a standing position, suddenly the trailer seemed a lot smaller. Something like fondness shone in his eyes. He stroked her hair back, trailing his fingers along her jaw. Her nerves jumped in response.
“Those pajamas make me crazy,” he murmured and covered her mouth with his.
She bowed into him, cupping the back of his head, savoring his familiar taste, memories of last night flooding her, arousing her.
“You smell like bleach.”
“Sorry.” He snatched his hands back.
She grabbed them, brought them to her face and sniffed them. “I don’t mind.”
He kissed her again, his mouth demanding. He lifted her, carrying her down the hall. She wrapped her legs around him and clung even as he bounced her off a corner, a wall, and finally onto the bed, following her down. He rose up just enough to unbutton her top, his breathing hot and fast, and he flashed a grin at her.
Alex. Grinned. At her.
Her heart tumbled all over itself.
He kissed the hollow of her throat, eased his way down, worshipfully, as if each kiss gave him the same pleasure it gave her.
Alex could smell himself on her skin as he kissed her collarbone, the swell of her breast, before he dragged his tongue around her nipple ad continued down her flat belly. He nipped her navel before ascending again, capturing her other nipple between his lips, tugging till she gasped in pleasure.
Sliding his fingers down the front of her pants, he found her hot and slick. His own desire had been barely banked since she’d turned to him in the dark last night. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he woke, the way she’d reached for him, the way they’d come together so easily, moved together so easily, found pleasure.
It wasn’t supposed to be like that, especially not with her. That it had been, well, he wanted to feel it again. And again. When she’d walked out this morning in those damn pajamas—
She slid her palm down his belly and into his shorts, circling him, as eager as he was, and he was naked, then sheathed, then inside her and she was moving into him, her body straining, glistening, glowing in the midday light.
He dropped over her, pushed her hair back and kissed her deeply while she wound her arms around his neck, slick with sweat, with effort, with his impending orgasm.
Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes as he vaulted over the edge, felt her holding on to him, unsure if she followed.
“Christ, Bella,” he managed, dropping to his side next to her. “I don’t usually have such a hair trigger.”
Without a word, she turned onto her side, sliding her hand across his shoulder to his chest, tucking her head between his neck and shoulder. He stroked her side, over her hip, watched her skin jump, sending him the signal he was looking for. She hadn’t come with him.
He dealt with the condom, then nestled her closer to him, teased her thighs apart as he stroked her open. She reacted like an electric shock had gone through her, but he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. He dragged his touch down to her opening, teasing her, caressing until she tensed, then retreating.
“You have kind of a hair trigger yourself,” he murmured, dipping his fingers into her, feeling her squeeze around him.
He was getting hard again. Damn, he’d made love to her three times in the past twenty-four hours. Only teenagers were supposed to be able to recover so fast, right? But he knew the reason, if he cared to admit it.
“Bella.”
He kissed her soft mouth, his touch playing between her smooth thighs, stringing her tight as a bow, and then he was ready, over her, in her, and she was crying out, clinging to him, bowing beneath him.
He tucked his head into the curve of her throat and rode out her orgasm, knowing he wouldn’t follow.
He didn’t need to.
She smiled up at him, a lopsided smile, like she didn’t have control of her muscles. The idea, the smile, made him feel like king of the world.
Christ, he was treading thin ice, here, putting his expectations on her. Just like he’d done with Rebecca.
She reached up to bring his head down for a kiss, but he broke away.
“Better get cleaned up so we can find a signal.”
The confusion couldn’t have been clearer on her face. Yes, he was a bastard. Knowing that, he still pushed off the bed away from her.