Shadow Hawk (4 page)

“Where are you?” Watkins demanded.

“I'm—”

“I know, I've handled it,” he said.

Abby went absolutely still. “What?”

“Nothing, talking into my radio.

Wait—radio? He was talking into his radio? But the radios were down. And now her heart was in her throat.
I've handled it
…those three words brought her directly back to another raid, and another extremely bad time.

They'd been the words Gaines had spoken before she'd gone in that day, and then later, she'd heard those words from the men who'd held her. They'd spoken the words
handled it
into a radio to some unseen boss.

No.
Had to be coincidental. Of course it was.

“Where are you?” Watkins asked tensely. “Why the hell did you leave the safety of the van? I need you to get back to the safety of the van, Abby. Do you copy?”

She opened her mouth to answer him but stopped herself.

Not saying a word was stepping over a line, a big one, but she didn't speak. Couldn't. Because who the hell was the bad guy here? Hawk?

Or…Watkins?

God, she was losing it.

“Abby?”

Yeah.
That was her. But instead of responding, she quietly shut her phone and kept hugging the tree because suddenly her legs didn't want to hold her.

She'd seen Hawk shoot Gaines. Hawk, gun in his hand, shoot point-blank. That made it him.

Right?

Her brain hurt, physically hurt. She couldn't process it all, or make sense of it. Who to trust? Knowing she had only herself, she pushed away from the tree and ran—

And then tripped over…oh, God…a man sprawled on the ground, far too close to the flickering flames. “Elliot—” Dropping to her knees, Abby set her hands on his back and realized her mistake instantly.

This body was one solid muscle. With a moan, he rolled to his back, keeping his eyes closed beneath dark lashes and the straight dark lines of his eyebrows, which were furrowed together.

Hawk.

A
BBY CROUCHED OVER
H
AWK
and checked for a pulse, which he had. Relieved, she got to her feet and peered through the trees that were providing them cover. Out there she could see the barn. The side door was open, fire ripping outward, drawn by the cold, chilly oxygen. Beyond them, she could see…oh, God…boxes and boxes of ammo. She ran back to Hawk.
“Hawk.”

“Present.”

She had no idea whose side he was on, but she sure as hell wasn't going to leave him here to die. “Get up.”

“Sure.” But he didn't move. And in spite of herself, everything within her softened. It was nothing personal, she tended to soften for injured animals and wayward children, too. It helped that he didn't look like his usual strong, capable self all sprawled on the ground. “That was a direct order.”

“I'm hearing ya.”

She put her hand on his jaw and looked at his mouth, which was usually curved in amusement, at her, at himself, at life. But at the moment, it was tight. Grim. Reflecting pain. She never thought she'd miss that smile, but she did. “Come on, get up, you cocky, smug SOB.”

He lifted his head, and she found herself leveled flat by his soft brown eyes that were so in contrast to his definitively unsoft demeanor. Even flat on his back, he looked lean and angular and startlingly attractive as that mouth curved slightly. “Abby.”

How, while completely surrounded by such utter chaos, she could feel an odd zing, she had no idea. But just looking at him made her feel dangerously feminine. “Where's Gaines?” she asked.

Hawk's short, almost buzzed hair was dusted with dirt and ash and stood straight up, revealing his hairline and a nasty cut, oozing blood. “In hell,” he answered, voice rusty. “If there's any justice.”

Oh, God. So it was true. Regret, and a huge sadness welled inside her. Once Gaines had saved her. Picked up the broken pieces and helped her put herself back together again. And she hadn't been able to return the favor. “So he's—”

“Not yet, he's not.” His face hardened, his eyes so intense on hers that she'd have fallen to her knees if she hadn't already been there.

“I saw you shoot him,” she said.

“Did you?” He grimaced. “Trust me—”

“Are you kidding?” Abby managed a laugh. He hadn't even tried to deny it. “After what I saw tonight, I should trust a rat's ass over you.”

“Look, whatever you're thinking, you've got it wrong.” His gaze shifted past her as he carefully scanned the immediate area, making her shiver at the danger sparking from his eyes. “He set this whole game up tonight.”

Okay, clearly he was delusional, but she still had to get him away from the flames. “What hurts?”

His laugh was short and harsh. “Only every fucking inch.”

Well, that they could deal with. “Get up.”

“Any minute now, I swear.” He closed his eyes. “So, a cocky, smug SOB? Really?”

“Come on, Hawk.” He might be eyeing the flames licking at them with an eerie calm, but she was not. She hoped like hell Elliot had indeed gotten out. “Get up!”

He shifted to do just that. “Check our sixes.”

“What?”

“Our asses, Ab. Make sure we're not being made. Gaines has a crew out here tonight, somewhere. They're setting explosions and making merry.”

She added
paranoid
to the list. Which, given his situation, made sense. “I've got your damn ass, Hawk.” Fine as it was. Crawling around behind him, she slid her arms beneath his, wrapping them around his chest so that she could pull him to safety.

“Ah, that's so sweet,” he murmured. “But now's not a good time for me.”

She grated her teeth. This. This was one reason why she'd stayed her distance. The man exuded raw sex appeal. Only problem? He knew it. “Don't flatter yourself.” She tugged. “Do you have to be so big?”

Though his eyes remained closed, he flashed a smile straight out of her very secret fantasies—pure wicked, mischievous promise. “You don't know the half of it.”

Okay, if she ever got him out of here, she was going to kill him herself.

“You smell pretty,” he whispered.

Her gaze swiveled back to his, but his eyes were still closed.

“You always smell pretty…”

“You're dreaming,” Abby said flatly.

“Nah. If I was dreaming, I wouldn't be this close to begging you to finish me off.” But he tried to stand up, then inhaled sharply at the movement and promptly choked on the smoke. “Yeah. You really do smell amazing. Sexy.”

Now
she
choked. “Stop it.”

“Really sexy. Even when you're blasting me with your glacial stare.”

“Shut up, Hawk.”

“You don't glare at Logan,” he said thoughtfully. “Or Watkins. Or anyone. Just me.”

Well, that was just true enough to have her drawing in her own sharp breath as he staggered to his feet. “You don't like me much,” he told her, rolling his shoulder as if it hurt.

“That's not true. I like you plenty when you're not talking.”

He sighed. “Now, see, I think I'd like you plenty if you were naked.”

“You're such an asshole.”

“Asshole Hawk. Yeah, that fits—”

The next explosion was small but way too close and very hot. Instinctively, she pushed him back, knocking them both down. Then she was enveloped in Hawk's strong arms and rolled, tucked into him while embers rained down.

When it was over, she realized that the muscles in his arms were quaking. He was a dead weight on top of her. “Hawk?”

A litany of swear words escaped him, blowing her hair back. He lifted his head, his eyes not even close to warm and soft, but hard as aged whiskey. “Don't ever do that again.”

“What? Save your sorry ass?”

“Exactly. Save your own first, you hear me?”

“Then get moving!”

“Yeah.” With a groan, he got to his feet and reached out a hand to help her. A considerate bad guy.

Where was Gaines…?

Having been in a bad situation before, the worst, Abby had a gut-wrenching need for everyone to be okay and accounted for, even knowing that someone on her team had caused all this. “Do you think Gaines—”

“Oh, that's right. You still need to rescue your Sugar Daddy.”

No one at ATF knew that she'd dated him twice, she'd made sure of that. Their relationship mostly consisted of her miraculous rescue, and then a vague, uncomfortable friendship that she'd had difficulty maintaining because of her new “issues.”

“Where is he, Hawk?” When he didn't answer, she shook her head and turned toward the direction of the barn.

“No, wait. Don't.” Hawk grabbed her arm, his eyes dark with concern. For her. And though it shouldn't have, it touched her as he spoke. “Don't even think about going back—”

“I have to.”

“Goddamnit, Ab—”

Yanking free, she was halfway to the barn when her cell vibrated. Pulling it out of her pocket, she flipped it open and saw “unknown” ID. “Hello?”

“It's me.”

Elliot's unmistakable voice brought a wave of relief.
“Where are you—”

“Listen to me. We've been betrayed. By Hawk.”

She processed the words, but, damn, it was hard to swallow, despite what she'd seen with her own eyes. “Elliot, are you sure, because—”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

Okay, no. No, he hadn't. And she knew exactly what she owed him, but—“Whose phone are you calling me on, because it's not yours—”

“Trust me, Abby.”

She wanted to. She knew he wanted her to. But just because she hadn't ever allowed Hawk's charm to melt away her panties didn't mean she didn't know that he was an incredibly good ATF agent, one who believed in what he did and believed in putting away the bad guys. There had to be an explanation for all of this. “Tell me where you are—”

Another explosion interrupted her, picking her up like a rag doll, tossing her once again on her ass in the dirt.
Damn.
Crawling back through the trees to where she'd left Hawk, she realized three extremely unsettling facts at once.

Gaines had disconnected.

Hawk was gone.

And she was all alone.

This night just kept getting better and better.

H
AWK STUMBLED THROUGH
the burning forest, getting his strength back as he made his way through the fiery night. Things had gone FUBAR quickly—“fucked up beyond all repair”—but he knew Gaines planned on somehow vanishing for good, and he couldn't let that happen. What he really needed right now was Logan, and he wished like hell he still had a radio.

But, really, he was lucky to still have his head.

He knew Abby was going to be pissed at the disappearing act, but he'd have to deal with that later. And if it turned out she wasn't in with Gaines, well, then he'd apologize and they'd all go back to their regularly scheduled program.

Which was her ignoring him. One of these days he'd figure out why her pissiness was such a turn-on….

Hawk made it around to the back of the barn before he fell to his hands and knees hard. Staring down at the dirt, he tried to gather his wits. Not easy, since they'd been scrambled by the explosions and then again by the knowledge that his boss had been playing both sides, selling the weapons they'd confiscated over the years on the black market, in essence undoing all the good they'd accomplished by putting those weapons right back into the hands of gangbangers, murderers and terrorists.

If he thought about it too long, it hurt his brain all the more. But it sure made sense. No matter how hard they'd worked at getting to the top of the Kiddie Bombers' hierarchy, they'd been thwarted at every turn.

But Gaines hadn't worked alone. No way. So who else was involved…Abby? And if not her, then who?

Watkins? Thomas?

Tibbs?

Not for the first time, he slapped at his pockets and his belt, but all forms of communication had been stripped from him in the fight. He'd even managed to lose his cell phone.

“We can't get in because of the explosions.”

Hawk's ears perked at the male voice. Who was that? Thomas?

“On Gaines's last transmission, he said that Hawk did this, all of it.”

No, not Thomas, Hawk thought as he used a tree to silently push himself to his feet and peer through the trees at the figures he could barely make out.

“Gaines is presumed dead.”

Watkins.
Watkins was the inside help Gaines had most likely needed.

“No,” came an answering female voice. A shaken one. “We don't know that he's dead.”

Abby. Sweet, hot Abby, with those gorgeous baby blues that softened whenever she smiled.

And hardened whenever she looked at Hawk.

He'd been looked at that way by women before, usually after a few drinks and an overnighter, when he'd made his excuses rather than stick around and explain that he was only saving the woman some time because he wasn't a good long-term bet.

Hell, he wasn't even a good medium-term bet.

No sweat, he'd always figured. He'd get back to the whole love game when he retired from the job.

Which wasn't looking so good right now.

Abby had pulled out her cell, and was listening. “Yes, sir.” Slapping the phone shut, she let out a breath. “Tibbs found a memory stick in Hawk's house.” She hesitated. “With information on the Kiddie Bombers.”

Ah, Christ. He'd been set up but good.
Thanks, Gaines.

“If Gaines is dead…” Watkins trailed off, but Hawk silently finished the sentence in his own head.

Then I go up for murder.

The men around Abby moved off, probably to search for him. Get in line, he thought.

Gaines had really gotten it together for this one. If he had his way, Hawk would die tonight. Probably Logan, too.

And…oh, Christ. If Hawk had succeeded in even planting a seed of doubt in Gaines's mind about Abby turning him in, then he'd screwed her.

Gaines would have to off her, too.

Whether she'd been in with Gaines no longer mattered, she was now a target right alongside Hawk. If something happened to her, it'd be his fault.
Shit.
Gulping in a deep breath, he pushed off from the tree and whipped around to pursue Abby.

To keep her safe.

But he only got about two steps before he plowed directly into a brick wall. A soft, perfumed brick wall.

Flying through the air, he realized the person trying to kill him had an instantly recognizable body and scent. Flowers, and some sort of sexy light spice that made him think of both sweetness and heat at the same time.

Of Abby, who'd wrapped her arms around him hard, and as they both sailed through the hazy air, heading toward the frozen earth, he had time to think one more thing.

Goddamn, but he was getting tired of eating dirt tonight.

 

A
BBY SKIDDED ACROSS
the unforgiving ground. She felt it digging into her legs, felt the damp chill her skin, but that was the least of her problems as Hawk rolled, pressing her into the ground with his body, which was taut and extremely primed for violence. Before she could so much as draw a smoke-filled breath, he clamped a hand over her mouth, completely immobilizing her, which promptly brought her back to another time and place. All her training flew out the window as terror took over, leaving her fighting like a wild thing, ineffective and serving only to drain her energy.

“Stop.” Hawk's voice came low and gravelly, his mouth so close to her ear that she felt his lips brush her skin. “I'm not going to hurt you, but I can't vouch for Gaines, so save it.”

The night and smoke combined to create an unwanted intimacy, as did his weight over her. They were away from the barn, in the trees, out of sight. But still, she held out hope that any second now Ken or Watkins or
someone
was going to help her. Then she'd find Elliot and get to the bottom of this crazy night.

“I'm going to take my hand away,” Hawk murmured. “But we're going to stay just like this. Real quiet, okay?”

She nodded. Of course she nodded, but the minute he lifted away his fingers, she spit out
“Get off me!”

He sighed and again covered her mouth, which made her struggle like mad beneath him. She was beyond frightened, but he was calm, breathing so normally she wanted to scream in frustration.

“Abby, goddamn it,
stop
.”

She tried to bite his fingers but he just pressed harder on her mouth. The low light cast his face in soft shadows, softening his features, making him seem almost vulnerable. Which was ridiculous given that she was the vulnerable one here!

“Are you with Gaines?” he asked.

What?

He was watching her very carefully. “I need to know. Which side are you on?” Slowly he lifted his hand from her mouth.

“I'm on the
good
side!”

Hawk stared at her. “I have no idea if you're lying—”

“I'm not!”

His jaw brushed hers as he nodded, and she became extremely aware of how he held her. Tightly. Too tightly to move. And yet somehow, incredibly gently.

What kind of a bad guy cared if he hurt her or not?

“Just had to make sure.” He said this lightly, as if they were having tea and cookies instead of lying on the ground. “So if you're not a bad guy, that means you—what came back to help me?”

“Yes,” she lied, closing her eyes for a moment to protect her thoughts, which were that she wished she could help him. She wished she could connect what she'd seen to what her heart was telling her—that this man, this fierce, intense, wildly sexy man couldn't have possibly done what she saw him do. She gauged his weight. “I came back to help you.” Take you in. “Hawk…” She had to, Abby reminded herself, and though she had no idea what made her say it, she whispered, “I'm sorry,” and then came up hard with her knee between his legs.

When he slumped over her and let out his breath in a soft
whoosh
, she played the rolling game as well as he had a moment ago and ended up on top, straddling his hips, breasts pressed to his chest, hands entwined with his on either side of his head to hold him down. Then she made the monumental mistake of looking into his face.

His eyes met hers in the dark night, reflecting the fact that despite his easy-going tone, he was in some serious pain. “Good one,” he wheezed and coughed. “Holy shit.”

Remorse was a luxury she couldn't afford, no matter how much she was attracted to him or how good an agent she'd thought him to be. She wouldn't make the mistake of thinking she had the upper hand for long. He'd been Special Forces, and he was considered a deadly weapon even when completely naked, so she knew the truth—if Hawk wanted to get away from her, he could. “I'm going to have to call for backup,” she said slowly, watching him, overwhelmingly aware of his body tensed with barely repressed aggression beneath hers. She hadn't been this close physically to a guy in a year.

A year, two weeks and three days.

But who was counting?

Why was he letting her hold him down?

She didn't know, but she needed the rifle, and began to reach back for it—

“Don't.” He tried flashing a grin. “Come on. We don't need backup. You and I can rock and roll all on our own.”

“I'm not hitting on you, and you know it. I've never hit on you.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

“So that time I caught you staring at me changing shirts, you were, what—checking for moles?”

Okay, he had her there. “I was not hitting on you,” she repeated stiffly. “Good God, only an idiot would think that!”

“An ass
and
an idiot.” He sounded amused. “I had no idea how highly you thought of me.”

“You shot Gaines,” she reminded him, watching him very carefully. She knew better than most how fast the man could move.

“So we're going to talk shop now?” he asked, as if he hadn't just held her down against her will. Maybe he'd decided she was no threat. That she wouldn't scream to get help when she needed it.

Too bad he was dead wrong.

“Because up until now you haven't been all that interested. Unless…unless it's the opposite. You've just been playing hard to get.” Hawk grinned again, but it was forced.

And, yes, she actually knew the difference between his real smile and a forced one. But she'd obsess over that later. For right now, Abby wasn't going to let him distract her, not when he was as slick as rain, and she could feel him beneath her, gathering strength, his every muscle poised for action. She very carefully shifted her weight and…

He almost let her get the rifle, too. But then he locked his gaze on hers, his filled with a whole host of things she wished she couldn't see—regret, resignation and also sadness, which she didn't understand. The next thing she knew, he'd unarmed her and once again she found herself held down by six feet two inches of solid muscle.

“Where did you get the rifle?”

“I found it after the first explosion.”

“Or you got it from Gaines, out of the barn. Damn it.” He shifted, pressing down harder.

Her windpipe closed, her heart stopped and she thought maybe the world had slowed to a halt on its axis. Abby opened her mouth to scream, but again his hand came down over it.

“No, don't. I can't let you shoot me, or call for help,” he said with real remorse in his voice as he threw the strap of the rifle over his shoulder. His eyes were black, fathomless pools, unwavering in their intensity as they fixed on her. “I'm sorry you're scared. I'm not going to hurt you.”

Ha
, she tried to say.
I'm not scared.
But she was so far beyond scared she couldn't even speak the lie.

Hawk sighed and leaned in a little closer. She could feel his chest pressing into her breasts, the powerful thigh he'd shoved between hers. He still had one hand on her mouth, the other gripping her wrists high above her head. He wasn't hurting her, though he outweighed her by a good seventy pounds. “Any more weapons I need to know about?” he asked, shifting slightly and releasing the hand on her wrists in order to frisk her. As he did, her nose brushed against his neck. His hand slid down her body intimately, choking a gasp out of her. His scent was a surprisingly good one given the night he'd had.

“No screaming,” he reminded her. “Promise me.”

She nodded her head. She'd have promised him the moon if he'd only get the hell off her so that she could draw air into her aching lungs. Besides, she was banking on someone, anyone, discovering them any second now.

He nodded in return. “Good. Because I'm having a major guilt attack here, and I really just need you to cooperate.” That said, he lifted his fingers from her mouth.