Did one of those team members turn on us?
The idea that an FBI agent had turned on him sure as hell pissed Saxon off. Because if someone had offered him up to Taggert…Maybe Jenny didn’t screw up and blow her cover after all. Maybe someone sold her out…the same way they just tried to serve us up to Taggert on a silver platter.
“You saved my life…” There was a faint pause. “Again.”
He took the right turn up ahead. “So where’s my—”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth told him softly, “now how about you slow down so that you aren’t the one to kill us both?”
He smiled and slowed down.
But his gaze kept sliding back to the rear-view mirror. There was no sign of pursuers behind them, not yet.
He had to find a safe place for her, then he needed to contact the only guy he actually trusted with his life—Victor had better have a way out of this nightmare.
Because Saxon wasn’t just going to sit idly by while some jackass tried to kill him.
I’ll fight back, and any fools who come after me—they’ll die.
Freedom was too close. No one would take this chance at a new life away from him. No one.
Chapter Four
“Here.”
Elizabeth turned at Saxon’s gruff voice and she saw him sliding back into the truck with a bag in his hands. He offered the bag to her, and, a bit nervously, she peered inside.
Shoes. Tennis shoes. For her.
“I know, they clash like hell with your skirt, but you can’t keep running around barefoot.”
They’d stopped long enough to fill up at that station/shop, and she sure hadn’t expected him to bring her back a gift. She put the shoes on quickly, and so what if they were a little big? They were heaven to her feet.
He cranked the truck and got them out of there, not going too fast this time, and she was sure glad he’d ditched his devil-may-care speed. “I also picked up a burner phone while I was inside,” he told her. “At our next stop, I’ll check in with Victor.”
Their next stop. Right. They were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. She looked to the left and only saw the Everglades. To the right—same thing. “Where are we going?”
His jaw tightened as he kept his stare on the road. “There’s a little cabin up ahead. It’s real secluded, and, in a spot like that, we’ll have plenty of warning if we get any unwanted visitors.”
Warning they hadn’t exactly gotten in the motel room.
“I keep thinking this is a bad dream.” No, she kept hoping it was. “What could I have done that made someone want to kill me?” To know that someone out there hated her so much…goosebumps rose on her arms.
“You threw over Wesley Locke. The guy doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”
Her hands gripped the dashboard. “He’s really a…criminal?” He’d seemed so nice, so sophisticated and cultured. Every time they’d been together, he’d played the perfect gentleman.
“One the FBI has been trying to take down for years.”
She truly had the worst luck with men.
“But for him to come after you with guns blazing like this…you must have seen something you shouldn’t have, sweetheart. Something that made him put out a hit on you—”
“Stop it.”
He slanted her a fast glance. “There’s no denying the hit. What I don’t get is why he wanted you to suffer. Why not just kill you fast?”
She grabbed his arm. Felt the muscles stiffen beneath her touch. “I meant, stop calling me sweetheart.” She didn’t like it when he used that endearment. It made her stomach clench and her heart race and it was just…just ridiculous. “You don’t mean it, so don’t say it, okay? I kind of have this rule—it’s a no bullshit rule. Don’t ever tell me something you don’t mean, got it?”
“I got it.”
“And Wesley...” She exhaled on a long sigh as she released his arm. “It just didn’t work between us. There wasn’t any chemistry.”
He made an odd sound, kind of like he was choking.
She glanced out at the Everglades. “When he kissed me, I wanted fireworks. I didn’t get them.” And she’d told herself she wouldn’t settle for anything less. Why couldn’t she have wild, hot passion? Wesley had been a gentlemen, yes, one who’d seemed to have ice water in his veins.
“No…um, chemistry?” Saxon repeated. “So when you screwed him, it just left you—”
Her gaze shot right back to him. Narrowed. “I didn’t.”
“He didn’t get you off?” Now he sounded distinctly annoyed. “I would,” he promised. “I’d make sure you screamed for me.”
Her heart was galloping in her chest. “What I meant was that we-we didn’t have sex. It didn’t get that far.”
Once more, his head turned quickly and his gaze met hers. His dark stare held hers with a hard intensity that made it a little difficult for her to draw in a breath.
“We didn’t,” she said again.
His focus shifted back to the road.
She hesitated a moment and then said, “So, you see, there’s no way Wesley could want me dead. We just went out a few times. It’s not like he’s some big spurned lover.” She didn’t have any of those. Sure, she’d had lovers, but none of them had been declaring love for her, and she hadn’t been falling for them. Sometimes, Elizabeth felt as if she were always looking for the right guy, the one who would kiss her and—bam, everything would change for her. “There are no big spurned lovers. No guy who just couldn’t bear to give me up.”
“You’re not seeing the right men,” he muttered.
Had she just heard him right?
“A woman like you…giving up someone like you would never be easy.”
A strange warmth spread through her. Saxon had just given her a compliment. “I-I’m sure the ladies have a hard time letting you go.”
“They don’t know who I really am. Sometimes, I’m not even sure I know.” Then he spun them around in the middle of the road. She gave a little scream and her hands flew out to touch the dashboard.
Then the vehicle braked to a stop. Right there. In the middle of the road. “Saxon!” Now she was yelling at him, not screaming—a huge difference. “Are you insane?”
“I don’t trust many people.”
The seatbelt cut into her shoulder.
“The FBI is supposed to be clearing Wesley Locke.”
“Um, you’re FBI.”
“But the last time I waited for the FBI, we had guests at our room—guests who came with guns blazing.” He started driving again. “I’m not waiting now. If Locke put this hit on you, then that shit is getting canceled, right now.”
He was driving fast. Way too fast. “Wh-where are we going?”
“You know where Wesley Locke lives, right?”
“Yes…”
“Then it’s time to turn the tables. It’s time for him to get a little late-night visit.”
That sounded like a terrible idea to her. “Maybe you should drop me off somewhere. You know, my apartment, a police station—”
“You stay with me, and I’ll keep you alive.”
A grim vow. One that she believed.
“But you go with someone else, then you take your chances. Because right now, I’m not sure who you can really trust.”
Those words sent a chill racing down her spine.
***
Wesley Locke lived in a high-end condo at the edge of the city. Saxon parked in the building’s garage, then he took Elizabeth with him in the elevator. He kept the gun tucked under the edge of his shirt. If Locke tried to attack them, Saxon didn’t plan on being the one who went down.
As a rule, Saxon didn’t believe in hiding from his enemies. Whenever possible, he preferred to take those bastards out in a straight confrontation.
But this isn’t about me. It’s about her.
Elizabeth stood beside him, her body swaying lightly, her nervous eyes on the glowing buttons that flashed on the elevator panel.
“What time is it?” she whispered.
It was helluva-late-thirty.