“Acetaminophen in the kit.” He winced as he grabbed his pants.
Leigh handed him the blanket. “Let me wash the blood from your clothes.”
Jake looked as if he wanted to protest, but he took the blanket and wrapped it around his hips. “I’ll do it. Just get me the pills.”
Securing the blanket at his hips, he worked off his boxers and took both his jeans and shorts to the sink. Leigh met him there a moment later with three Tylenol in her hand.
He downed them dry and proceeded to scrub the blood from his boxers. Without asking, Leigh picked up his jeans and used an old bar of soap to scrub the blood from the fabric.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“Try to get some rest. We’ve got running water. Heat. I think I’ve got a couple of protein bars in the Hummer. We leave at first light.”
“To where?”
He said nothing.
“Your place?”
“I didn’t get to be a federal agent by being stupid, Leigh.”
“That would certainly draw Rasmussen out, wouldn’t it?”
He shot her a dark look. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
“The last time I trusted you it cost me—” Shocked by what she’d almost said, Leigh bit off the words.
Jake stared hard at her, his eyes digging into her, seeking answers she didn’t want to give. “You never told me, Leigh. What exactly did you have to do to get the goods on Rasmussen six years ago?”
Struggling against the shame and anguish threatening to overwhelm her, she stared back at him. “You should know, Jake. But then I was expendable, wasn’t I?”
As realization dawned, fury flashed in the dark depths of his eyes. But it was not directed at her. And suddenly it hit her that he hadn’t known.
Taking the jeans from her, he turned away and walked to the living room without responding. Pressing her hand to her stomach, Leigh remained in the kitchen. What had just happened? Was Jake angry with Ian Rasmussen? With her? Or was he angry with himself?
When she’d calmed down, she followed. He was in the process of draping the jeans and briefs over the hot potbellied stove. “Should be dry in a couple of hours,” he said.
“How does the wound feel?”
“Going to be stiff for a couple of days.” His voice was milder, but still he didn’t look at her. “I’ll have a nice scar to add to my collection.”
The image of his battle-scarred body came to her in a vivid flash. She’d felt his hard muscles flex beneath her hands. She’d sensed the power within him, and she’d seen that power unleashed.
That she could remember with such startling clarity made her realize she was going to have to be careful in the coming days. Jake Vanderpol was a dynamic man, especially when he wanted something.
Leigh wondered if he wanted something from her. If that something had to do with getting Rasmussen. Or if it was much more personal.
LEIGH UNCOVERED an old cast-iron pot in one of the kitchen cabinets and heated water on the stove. An hour later and six trips up the creaky old stairs, and the old claw-foot tub in the upstairs bathroom was almost full. She found a candle and set it on a broken plate and carried it upstairs.
Looking down into the steaming water, she had never wanted a bath as badly as she did right now. Quickly she stripped off her clothes and sank into the hot water all the way up to her chin. It was a small pleasure, but one she wouldn’t trade for anything.
She hadn’t spoken to Jake since their exchange earlier. He seemed restless and brooding, and Leigh would just as soon not deal with him when her own emotions were strung tight. He’d walked to the Hummer and retrieved two protein bars. They’d eaten in silence. He hadn’t spoken of Rasmussen. But Leigh had seen him watching her.
She lay back in the hot water trying to shut out all thoughts of him. But Jake Vanderpol was not the kind of man a woman could easily erase from her mind. She’d been trying to forget him for six years. Even with all the unresolved issues between them, something had remained. Something that could not be shaken by time or absence or even the hurt he had caused her.
She jolted when her cell phone rang. Sitting up, she looked around and in the candlelight located her cell phone on the floor next to her bra and panties. Who would be calling her? The people from the Witness Security Program? Had Ian Rasmussen been caught? Was she safe? Could she go home?
Bolstered by those hopes, she reached for the phone. The number on the display wasn’t familiar. She hit the talk button. “Hello?”
“Don’t hang up.”
The refined voice, the words spoken so softly, made her heart beat madly, and the water suddenly felt ice cold. “Ian. Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to stay alive, Leigh. There are men out there who want to kill me. They think I’m a criminal.”
“You are a criminal. You need to turn yourself in.”
“Prison is no place for a man like me. But then, you knew it would be hard for me, didn’t you? And yet you did what you had to do to put me away anyway, didn’t you?”