He straightened away from the car but paused before closing the door. “Do you need anything?”
“Oh yes, I do. If you don’t mind?” She was suddenly all sweetness, and that made him wary.
“Uh, sure. What do you need?”
She flipped him off. “A big bag of fuck you.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I walked into that one.” He held up a finger in warning. “Do. Not. Move. I mean it.”
…
Sage waited, holding her breath until he stepped into the building. The front was all glass, and no doubt he was keeping an eye on her, but this was the best chance she was going to get.
She felt along her nape for the bobby pin tucked in there. She’d learned a long time ago that it paid to keep one handy. She slid it out and fumbled but caught it before it fell into the crack between the seats. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she opened it up and slid one end into the lock on the cuffs, then checked to make sure Vaughn was still in line.
Arms loaded with snacks, he was stuck behind a woman who was apparently throwing a fit over something as the employees behind the counter did their best to calm her. Vaughn tapped his foot and shot a glance toward the car to make sure she was still where he’d left her. She gave a snarky salute, which had him shaking his head.
She didn’t have long. She had to be free when he reached the register, because that was the only time he would be distracted enough for her to make a run for it. Adrenaline made her hands shake, and she took a second to calm herself before she set to work on the lock. A moment later, the cuff clicked—the sound more like freedom than even the National Anthem. Thank God. She pulled it off and checked on Vaughn again. He was just stepping up to the register. Perfect timing.
Sage scooted over into the driver’s seat and waited until he looked down at his wallet to count out bills. Now was her chance.
She shoved open the door and slipped out, keeping low, moving fast between the pumps. Nothing but dark woods surrounded the truck stop—why couldn’t Vaughn have picked someplace more populated?—so her escape options were limited. He’d turn this place upside-down looking for her, but those woods weren’t the least bit inviting. This was still swamp country, and the last thing she wanted was to become a gator’s late night snack.
She crept to the side of the building without windows and pressed herself into the shadows against the wall. Maybe she could catch a ride with a trucker—no, the idea gave her the creeps. Not to mention, went against every survival instinct she’d spent the last five years cultivating. So she’d hide right under his nose and, if she had to, risk the woods. Ending up gator-bait was still better than returning to DC.
At least with the gator, she had a shot at surviving.
…
Of course she was gone. Honestly, he’d have been disappointed in her if she had listened to him and stayed put.
Vaughn set his bag of snacks in the backseat and took the time to start the gas pump before he went looking for her. She couldn’t have gotten very far since she’d only been out of his sight for a minute. And, damn, she could’ve taught Houdini a thing or two about quick escapes. Had to admire her for that. He also had to wonder where she’d learned all the tricks of the escape and evasion trade. Was she a trained operative? His step hitched at the thought, then he stopped moving altogether when he recalled Marcus’s comment about how familiar she looked. Marcus, who was former FBI, had recognized her from somewhere.
Vaughn grabbed his phone to send a text to Marcus, and it started vibrating in his hand. Someone was calling him from a DC number he didn’t recognize.
Weird. The only people who had this number were his brothers, sisters-in-law, a few of his SEAL buddies, and Marcus. But his oldest brother Greer had been MIA for nearly a month—the last person to talk to him had been Reece three weeks ago and Greer hadn’t given any information about his whereabouts, only that he “had something to do” before he could return. Maybe this was him and he’d ditched his old number for some reason.
Vaughn answered his phone. “Yeah?”
“Vaughn, how are you? It’s Giuseppe.”
A cold knot of dread lodged in his stomach. “Bellisario. I don’t remember giving you this number.”
“You specialize in finding people. Well, so do I. I’m wondering if you’ve given any more thought to my business proposal.”
Shit. Now that he was on Bellisario’s radar, he wasn’t going to get away with pretending that encounter hadn’t happened. “I’m in the middle of something right now.”
“Whatever they’re paying, I’ll double it to drop what you’re doing and come back to DC and work for me.”
Come back to DC.
Fuck, he wasn’t just on Bellisario’s radar. The man was tracking him and knew he was out of town. “Why?”
“I’ve been reading up on you. You’re the best at what you do, and I need the best.”
“For what?”