The Protected (Fbi Psychics) (25 page)

Right now, she was having fun ignoring him. It was pissing him off, too. She really liked that.

A cruel hand reached out and closed around her wrist.

Thank you for making this so easy.
She turned her head and listened for about five seconds as he said gently, “I will not tolerate being ignored, Nala. I let you pout for a short time, but it’s done.” He gestured to the laptop. “I wish to make love to you. Put that away.”

She touched her tongue to her lip, watched as his gaze lowered to her mouth. She was kind of tired of behaving. She’d been doing it for too long already. “You know what . . . I’ve got a better idea.”

* * *

“WHY
did you bother asking her anything?”

Vaughnne just stared at the window in the coming night. Her gaze was blank and her face was serene. She didn’t look all that bothered by the fact that she’d just seen him kill two people, but he knew better.

Something was bothering her and he’d get to the bottom of it. He had to know just how far he could trust her, just how far she’d go. She said she wanted Alex safe, but while he’d do
anything
to see it happen . . . he doubted she’d do the same, doubted she could say the same.

“Because I needed to know,” she said when he continued to stare at her.

“Why?”

Her lashes swept down low for a minute. “The agent in me gets it. I know why they were there and I had very little, if any doubt, that they
knew
what they were doing, that they knew they were after a kid. Did they stop to question
why
somebody was after a kid? Question his motives? His reasoning? Any of that? I don’t know. And the agent in me knows this . . . they didn’t care. They had a job to do and that’s all that mattered. I know that. I get that. I’ve seen some damn shitty stuff, doing the kind of work I do—that’s
why
I do it. To help put a stop to it. But there’s another part of me that just . . . doesn’t. And I had to know. I had to ask.”

“You still want to trust people,” he said softly. He turned his head and stared out at the scenery as it raced by. The highway lights blurred around him and he kept watching the mirrors, waiting to see sirens. Vaughnne had a police scanner in the car and they’d heard the alert go out once the bodies were found.

That had been more than an hour ago. He’d heard them talk about a “disturbance at the hospital,” but so far, he and Vaughnne hadn’t been connected to it. He hoped it wouldn’t happen because having his description splashed on the news wasn’t going to do his situation any good.

But if it happened . . .

He pushed the thought aside and focused on Vaughnne. “You must see the lowest forms of life out there, c
orazón
. The work you do. How you lost your sister. Yet you still think you can trust people.”

“Oh, I know I can trust some,” she said softly. “But this isn’t about
trusting
people. It’s about not being willing to believe everybody out there is a monster.”

Gus closed his eyes. Life was easier when he trusted nobody. Nothing. When he kept his focus solely on the boy. When his life revolved around Alex, it was simple. It was complicated now and he didn’t like that.

Memory flashed through his mind and his blood heated as those memories rose up to whisper,
Oh, you didn’t like it? Didn’t like fucking her? Don’t want to do it again?

His heart thudded against his ribs, hard and heavy, and he resisted the urge to open his eyes and look at her. He’d have her again. He already knew that. But it was more to ease that hunger than anything else. It had to be; there was no way he’d let himself need anybody. No way he’d let himself want anybody in his life. It was hard enough just letting himself love Alex, knowing how easily that could be shattered and lost.

“How far do we drive tonight?” Vaughnne’s voice cut through the dark, edgy hunger and he bit back a curse.

“Drive until you can’t see straight,” he said sourly. “Then pull off to the side of the road and I’ll take over.”

A smirk twisted her lips. “Okay, then. And I assume I head toward Mexico, right?”

* * *

DRIVE
until you can’t see straight
.

She was tempted to jab him with something sharp. Or thump him over the head with something heavy.

Granted, she’d be biting off more than she could chew, but the jackass brought out the worst in her and she couldn’t help it.

Still, he’d be surprised at just how far she could go without sleep.

If she hadn’t had the shit walloped out of her in the past few days, between
him
slipping her the damned drugs and the car wreck, she could manage another day or so without it.

Day was bleeding away into night when she had to pull over. The brilliant lights of the gas station were what drew her, and anxiety pounded in her as she filled up the gas tank. She had the keys in her pocket, but that wasn’t going to keep Gus from taking off. Nothing was going to keep him here if he didn’t want to be here—she knew that.

Still. She had to use that damn bathroom and she was hungry.

As she finished topping off the tank, she ran through the list of options in her mind and it didn’t take a very long time to ponder each, and toss them aside. The
ideal
option would be knocking him out for a while so she
could
go deal with her bladder. Then she’d know he’d be here when she got out.

The only problem with that scenario . . . she blew out a sigh as she screwed the gas cap on. There was no way in hell she’d be able to knock that guy out. Wasn’t going to happen. Not unless she figured out a way to do it from a good ten feet away. Maybe she could shriek him into unconsciousness.

As she started to circle around the car, her bladder screaming, the door opened.

Gus climbed out and stared at her over the hood of the car. He had his bag slung over his arm. She’d noticed that he kept that bag very, very close. “We need to stop for a bit. I have to make a few phone calls and we need to hit the restrooms, grab a bite to eat. You’re also going to get in contact with your . . . boss. Jones. I want to know about Alex.”

She eyed him narrowly. Okay. No point in letting him know how completely on board she was with the restroom idea, she figured. Restoom, food, all good things. Calling Jones? Not such a great idea, but hell. She wasn’t surprised. Actually, she was . . . she was
very
surprised he hadn’t pushed for her to do this earlier.

Running her tongue along her teeth, she said softly, “I’ll call Jones. Last. And I’m staying on your ass the entire way.”

A slow smile tugged up his lips. “Think I’m going to try and ditch you now, Vaughnne?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Stop worrying about that. It’s not an issue. You’re in this until the end, because if I fail,
you
are the one who is taking responsibility for my nephew. You stepped into this and you gave your word you’d see him safe. I’m holding you to that.”

Briefly she wondered just how she was going to do that if she ended up dead along with him. Because that was what he meant by
fail
. A polite, pretty way of saying,
If I end up with my throat slit or worse, you’re picking up the ball
.

That had already been taken care of, though. Even if Gus didn’t realize it. Nobody would or
could
watch after a kid like Alex the way the people in her unit could. Not that he was going to be communal property exactly, but somebody in her unit would make sure he was cared for. Loved.
And
trained.

Once that kid was trained, there wasn’t going to be a person alive who posed much of a threat to him, she suspected. Once he was trained, he’d see to his own safety.

As Gus turned toward the travel plaza, she debated on whether or not to leave the car where it was or trust him enough and let him out of her sight so she could move it.

In the end, she decided she’d make a show of faith. Somehow she didn’t think he was bullshitting her about her being in this to the end. Maybe he hadn’t meant for that to be reassuring to her, but it was.

Yeah.

It was.

If she didn’t have to worry about him ditching her at every opportunity, she could focus on the bigger problem.

Alex’s father.

As she started the car, Gus glanced back over his shoulder, one brow lifted. She gestured to the front of the store and started to nose the car around. At the last minute, though, she pulled around to the store, over near the back. There wasn’t exactly any place that was hidden in the shadows here—bright lights lit up the area, and out beyond that pool of light, darkness and the stretch of road awaited. But she didn’t want to leave the car right out front.

As she climbed out, Gus appeared at the end of the sidewalk where it curved around to the front. His pale eyes glittered in his face as he watched her and her heart jumped and danced around in her throat, just looking at him. Really, that man was just too beautiful to exist. It wasn’t fair to the female population. Not at all.

Spit pooled in her mouth and she had to swallow just to keep from drooling as she moved to meet him on the sidewalk.

“We going inside?” she asked, trying to act like she wasn’t desperate to touch him. Desperate to see him, be near him. How had he hit her like this? A few weeks ago, she’d been stuck behind a desk, dealing with bitching headaches and wondering when she could get back out in the field.

And now, here she was, still dealing with bitching headaches, back out in the field . . . and standing in front of a man who had come to mean way too much to her, especially considering how very little she really knew about him.

He lifted a hand and brushed a stray curl back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “If you were smart, you’d try to lose me once you were inside the store. Take off, steal a car, and get away from here. Before it’s too late. Once they connect you to me, do you understand you may never be able to go back to your life?”

“I’ve never been much on doing the smart thing. Just the thing that felt right.” She shrugged and tried not to react as he shifted his attention from her hair to her mouth. He cupped her chin in his hand, stroked his thumb along her lower lip. The light touch sent all sorts of sparks and heat dancing down her spine and she wanted to shudder. Shiver. Quiver. She
was
quivering. And hungry, so damn hungry for him, but this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place. Not that they were likely to have
that
anytime soon. “Besides, how likely am I to get away if I tried?”

Lashes swept low. “If you ran now, I might let you go. You never should have gotten caught up in this. I’ve got enough blood on my hands. I . . .”

His voice trailed off and then he shook his head. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“Yeah, and there’s none of that,” she said, sighing. Edging around him, trying to ignore the ache spreading through her, she started to the store. “I’ll call Jones once we’re done with the pit stop and grabbing up some food for the road. I’ve got cash if you don’t.”

There was no answer. She couldn’t hear him behind her as she headed into the store.

But he was following her. She was excruciatingly aware of that fact.

* * *

THEY
bought some throwaway cell phones.

Gus had several of them stashed in his bag, but he didn’t want to use them until he had to, so before they left, he peeled off a few twenties and bought two more, added a few cards to their purchases so they would have airtime. Vaughnne stood next to him, her right hand hanging loose, her left thumb hitched in her pocket as she stood there, a bored expression on her face.

She might look bored to anybody else, but he recognized that look.

She was watching. Noticing everything.

The door opened and a gust of hot air blew in, and even though her expression never changed, he imagined she could tell him everything about the person who’d just walked in.

Of course, he’d also noticed.

A trucker. Big guy, nearly six foot five, black, his beard going gray and his head smooth and bald, shiny in the bright light. He wore a faded T-shirt with Mr. T on it, and although it hung loosely on him, it couldn’t disguise the muscular build. Automatically, Gus cataloged how the man moved, decided the guy knew
how
to move and probably knew how to fight, as well.

But he was older and he looked tired, like he’d spent the entire day on the road.

He also had a direct look about him, and if Gus had to kill him, he’d do it quick and easy.

It was normal, for him, to note everything about everybody and decide how he’d kill somebody. Some people would die slow, because if he made it slow, he could get information out of them. Others, he’d kill fast because they’d never talk, or if they did talk, it would take too much time, and time was one thing Gus never wasted.

The man looked like one who knew how to take pain.

Stop it
, a soft voice murmured into his mind. Shifting his eyes to the side, he eyed Vaughnne narrowly.

She lifted a brow at him, and once more, her voice rolled through him.
Stop. He’s just a trucker. If he was more, I’d know. He’s not
.

He wondered how she was so certain, when
she
had been the one to point out to him that there were psychics who could hide themselves very, very well—she hadn’t sensed the two earlier. And Alex hadn’t ever sensed a thing from her.

But then again, Vaughnne and Alex were two very different creatures. Even he could see that.

Alex might be a wildfire, deadly and strong, but Vaughnne was forged steel. Equally deadly, equally strong. And she had control.

Control . . . questions, demands, burned inside him, and abruptly, he was tired of not having those answers. Especially when there was somebody who could answer them.

As they paid for their purchases, he decided, then and there, he’d get the questions.

“You want us to get these activated for you?” the kid behind the counter asked.

“No.” Gus looked away before the kid could offer anything else, and in another few minutes, they were out of the store. He took a slow look around the parking lot even as they headed for the car, his mind already focused on those questions.