Out of the Shadows Page 8

  “Freshly made,” Flynn replied. “Do you have our payment?”

  The head guy laid a thick envelope on the table and Flynn was quick to snatch it up. He thumbed through the contents, his expression turning to a grimace.

  “This is only half of what we agreed upon,” he said.

  The man shrugged. “You were late with your delivery. I gave myself a discount.”

  “That wasn’t part of the deal,” Flynn retorted. His voice was raised and belligerent, and that’s all it took for four men to surround our booth. Weapons of various sizes pointed at us, though I was positive they were all quite lethal regardless of size.

  Flynn closed his mouth, his throat moving as he swallowed.

  “You were saying?” the leader asked, but Flynn just gave a jerky shake of his head.

  “Nothin’.”

  The man smiled. “I didn’t think so.” He waved his hand and the guards stood down, melting away back to their tables. Then he looked at me, his eyes calculating. “I’d like to get to know the newest member of your team.”

  I stiffened. “I’m not part of the deal,” I said.

  “Deals can be modified,” he said, “as I’ve just demonstrated.” He stood and took my hand. “Come with me.”

  Everything in me wanted to fight him, because I knew where this was going, but I was pathetically outnumbered.

  However, I was also armed.

  I let the man lead me away from the table and through a doorway into a back room that was apparently the game room, with two pool tables and a dartboard. A country tune was playing over the sound system, and I was taken aback when he pulled me into his arms and started dancing.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Mac. What’s yours?”

  “My friends call me Luis.”

  “And what do your enemies call you?” I asked.

  His smile was thin. “They don’t.”

  He pulled me closer and I reacted too late to try and stop him. His arm wrapped around my torso and his palm rested on the gun I’d hidden underneath my clothes. He froze.

  “What do we have here?” he mused. In a flash, he’d shoved the vest I was wearing off my shoulders and lifted my shirt.

  “Stop it!” I protested, pushing against him, but he was too strong.

  “You’re full of surprises, Mac,” he said, letting my shirt drop. His hold on me didn’t loosen. “So tell me, is the gun for me? Or for Flynn and Jeb?”

  I’d expected him to take it from me, but he didn’t. I hesitated before answering, deciding to go with my gut.

  “Flynn and Jeb,” I said.

  “Thought so.” He began dancing again and I had no choice but to move with him.

  I swallowed. “They’re planning to double-cross you, you know.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

  I nodded. “I heard them talking about another buyer who was willing to pay more. But they didn’t think they could get out of the deal with you, so they’re planning on an ambush to take you out and make it look like a rival did it.” I was making all this up, but I certainly had Luis’s attention.

  “And who is this other buyer? Is it the Chivas gang?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. They been keeping it real quiet. It was just a matter of luck that I heard that much.”

  “And why are you telling me this?” he asked.

  “I want out,” I said flatly. “And I’ve got no loyalty to them.”

  “So it would seem. When is this ambush supposed to take place?”

  “Tonight, when you leave.” I was thinking fast. “They’re back at our place, waiting. We’re supposed to call in when the deal is done and the boys will head out to intercept you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice as cold as ice. He released me. “I’ll let you keep your gun, but if I find it pointing at me, it’ll be the last thing you do, understood?”

  I nodded, barely breathing, hardly able to believe my ploy might actually work.

  He took my hand again and pulled me along with him to the other room. As he passed by one of the guards, Luis took the man’s weapon from his hand, raised it, and fired a single shot into the middle of Flynn’s forehead.

  My steps faltered as Flynn’s lifeless body flopped forward onto the table, blood and gore splattering the wall behind him.

  Luis hadn’t even paused as he strode purposefully toward the door. His men followed—the rest of the patrons in the bar didn’t so much as twitch.

  Luis headed toward the SUV and jerked open the door. “Lead us back to their base,” he ordered me. “And don’t double-cross me.”

  His gaze was hard on mine and I swallowed before giving him a nod. “Okay.”

  Four vehicles followed me back to the trailer park, and I was amazed I was able to find my way. My nerves were shot—probably a poor word choice there, I thought somewhat hysterically. But Devon needed me to get us out of this mess and that was enough to steady my hands and my resolve.

  It was too bad about Flynn and what was about to happen to Jeb, but I hadn’t made the decision for them to get involved with dangerous men like Luis. They’d done that all on their own. And if they’d let Devon and me alone, none of this would have happened.

  Karma could be a real bitch.

  Luis was definitely the type to shoot first and ask questions later, so when all the cars pulled up, guns started blazing. I drove straight through the yard around back, closest to the trees. I jumped out of the SUV . . . and right into Jeb.

  “What the fuck did you do?” he snarled at me, grabbing both my arms and shaking me. “What happened?”

  I could hear more gunfire and yelling as Jeb’s men fought back, and they were better armed than I’d thought they’d be. Maybe they stood a fighting chance against Luis.

  “They double-crossed you,” I lied. “And he shot Flynn dead.” That part was true at least.

  Cooking meth is a dangerous business—the chemicals are extremely volatile and flammable. So I wasn’t a bit surprised when the trailer four doors down suddenly blew up.

  We both hit the deck as debris rained down. I covered my head with my arms and crawled forward a couple of feet until I was mostly under the SUV. After a moment, things settled and I opened my eyes, relieved I hadn’t been hit.

  Jeb wasn’t so lucky.

  A ten-inch piece of scrap metal—probably from the roof—had impaled his neck, nearly severing it from his body. Bile rose in my throat at the sight, but I swallowed it down. Flickering flames cast wildly dancing shadows in the dark. I could hear people yelling and the occasional bursts of gunfire.

  Time to go.

  I ran into the woods, following the trail to the shed. No one was guarding it but the padlock remained. Digging out my gun, I thumbed off the safety and aimed. It took three shots, but I was finally able to get the lock off.

  When I got inside, I didn’t dare turn on the light for fear of attracting attention. Devon was still on the floor but struggling to wake up. I dropped to my knees beside him.

  “We’ve got to go,” I said, taking his arm. “Now. Can you stand?”

  “Ivy . . .” He blinked heavily, looking at me, then processed my words and gave a slow nod.

  “Okay, good. I’ll help you.” It took more strength than I thought it would have to get him off the ground, and he leaned heavily on me once he was up. The walk to the car was a struggle, and several times I thought we’d topple to the ground.

  Frenetic energy kept me going as well as the fear that we’d get caught at any moment. Luis would kill us both in a heartbeat if he realized I’d set this thing up. Panic tempted me, but I forced myself to stay calm. One foot in front of the other, stay standing, keep Devon upright.

  Finally, we reached the SUV and I was able to get him inside. I paused to buckle him in—God only knew what kind of ride it would be to get out of here—when he suddenly snatched my gun from my side and fired over my shoulder.

  I jerked around in time to
see a man holding a rifle crumple to the ground. It had been the guy guarding the shed earlier.

  “Nice shot,” I said, then slammed the door closed and ran to the driver’s side. I wasted no time gunning it out of the trailer park, having to go between two parked sedans and scraping them both in order to clear a path. I winced at the sound of metal on metal.

  A couple more gunshots rang out and the glass in the rear window broke.

  “Get your head down!” Devon shouted at me, and I did the best I could while still being able to see the road.

  I held my breath, pressing hard on the gas pedal, and whipped the SUV around onto the main road. It fishtailed, but I worked it out, then punched it. Tires squealed as we tore off down the road.

  I watched the rearview mirror as I drove like a bat out of hell, glad I’d grown up on two-lane country roads like this one with all their curves and bad asphalt. No one followed us, thank God. The sky was an amber glow behind us, and I wondered how long it would take the police and firemen to come—or if they even would.

  I didn’t know how far I drove or where I was going. I just drove. Devon had passed out again and I worried about him, wondering if I should take him to the hospital. But then they’d ask questions and what would I say? It wasn’t like I could use my identification, or his, for that matter.

  The sun came up and still I drove, my eyelids drooping more with each passing mile, until I finally pulled off at a rest area. My shakes had subsided, but I’d still feel better the sooner we could put this state behind us. The more space between me and Luis, the better.

  There was a tickle underneath my nose and I swiped at it, surprised when my hand came away with blood. I flipped down the visor mirror and saw I had a bloody nose. I didn’t usually get them and nothing had hit me last night that might’ve caused it. Maybe it had been from the meth fumes that had permeated the trailer park. I patted the blood with a tissue and tipped my head back for a few minutes until it stopped.

  I thought back to the dog, Maisie, and what Liza had said. Could it be true? Was there something wrong with me? Maybe this was a side effect of the vaccine. But even if there was something wrong, there was nothing I could do about it. Whatever it was would just have to take its course. Quite a depressing thought.

  I left the engine running to keep the A/C on, then laid my seat back and closed my eyes. I’d just sleep for a few minutes, then continue on. I’d have to stop for gas soon, and some food. Maybe by then, Devon would be awake.

  It was scary being without him, though he was right next to me. I missed his strength, his decisiveness. I was stronger, more capable, than I felt I’d ever been before, but I needed Devon, too, no matter how adept I’d become at outwitting dangerous men.

  On that troubled note, I drifted to sleep.

  I woke with a start, my dreams yanking me from slumber.

  “Shh, it’s all right, darling.”

  Devon was awake and leaning over me, his eyes clear from the drug, and without thinking about it, I flung my arms around his neck to hold him tight.

  “Thank God you’re okay,” I mumbled against his shirt. Tears stung my eyes, the relief overwhelming me.

  “I’d be better if I remembered something from the past few hours other than shooting someone,” he said, his lips brushing my hair. “What happened?”

  I swallowed down tears and blinked my eyes a few times. Reaching to move my seat upright, I said, “You got in a fight with a bobcat. The people who stole our car found you and put something on it, then gave you morphine for the pain.”

  “That explains the smell,” he said, frowning with distaste as he tugged his shirt away from his body to look down at his chest. “I’m afraid to ask what’s in it.”

  I shrugged, the nerves and relief of getting away still washing over me. “I wouldn’t know anyway. They didn’t say.” I flipped down the visor and started finger-combing my hair. God, I really wanted a shower after last night.

  “And what did they do to you?” Devon asked. “I doubt they just let us leave. And there’s the matter of me shooting someone.”

  “It was a good thing you did,” I said, “or else we’d likely be dead, too.” I gave him a quick rundown on what had happened from the time he left me until now, leaving out the weird thing with the dog that still sat in the back of my mind. “. . . and I have no idea where we are,” I said. “I was just driving. I’m so tired.” I rubbed a hand across my forehead, behind which throbbed a nasty headache. I needed food and sleep, in that order.

  Devon grasped my hand, gently tugging it from my face. I turned to look at him.

  “I am literally in awe of what you’ve done,” he said. “And I feel like a prize idiot for getting myself hurt and leaving you to deal with that alone.”

  I shook my head, my cheeks heating in embarrassment at his praise. “It’s fine. It’s not as though you intended to get hurt. And I just did what had to be done.” I was anxious to change the subject. The way he was looking at me made me flush even more, a softness and admiration in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I deserved. Yes, I’d gotten us out alive, but lots of people were now dead. Even if they had been bad men, I’d brought death to them.

  “How about we switch places?” he asked. “And I’ll get us somewhere we can rest and clean up?”

  “And get food?” I asked hopefully.

  He smiled. “Absolutely.”

  It felt wonderful to climb out of that driver’s seat and let Devon take over. I didn’t normally view myself as a Lara Croft type, and even now I just looked at what had happened as what had needed to be done. Devon and I needed to be free—the rest had been collateral damage. Perhaps I was getting to be as cynical as Devon.

  He figured out where we were and got us back on the road. I’d driven in the right direction at least, so that was good. And about thirty minutes later, he was pulling up to a motel that was much nicer than the one we’d tried to stay in the night before.

  “Moving up?” I joked half heartedly. My head was killing me.

  “I think we’ve learned our lesson about staying in local dives,” he said.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  He made me wait in the car while he checked us in, and I didn’t protest. I was just too tired. I was dozing when he returned, and we leaned on each other as we made our way to our room. Thankfully, Jeb & Co. hadn’t removed our luggage so we still had our things. I barely made it through a shower before collapsing into bed. And though the sun was bright in the morning sky and I was still hungry, I was out like a light.

  I felt so much better the next morning. Something had woken me and after taking another deep breath, I realized what it was.

  “Fried chicken,” I said, sitting straight up in bed, which I immediately regretted as my head swam. Ugh. My blood sugar was obviously too low. I took a breath and closed my eyes, and after a moment, it passed.

  “Thought you had to be famished,” Devon said, continuing to unpack several plastic bags onto the table. “This is one of your favorites, is it not? Chicken that has been fried in the quintessential American tradition?” His eyes twinkled at me.

  “Omigod, yes,” I said, bounding up from the bed and over to the table. I had on a T-shirt and panties, but wasn’t cold. All I could think about was the wonderful aroma of fried chicken and . . . “Did you get biscuits, too?”

  He chuckled. “What’s fried chicken without the biscuits?”

  I grinned at him. “Indeed,” I said, affecting a British accent. Then I was digging in and squealed with delight to find a chicken leg, which I quickly snatched up. I sank my teeth in, my eyes fluttering shut as I moaned in appreciation. Piping hot and juicy. Perfect.

  Devon just smiled indulgently at me as I plopped down with my prize and chowed down. I cleared out three pieces of chicken and two biscuits in no time flat, then sat back in the chair, groaning.

  “I ate too much, too fast,” I complained, watching as Devon ate much more slowly and deliberately.

  “I’ve foun
d your weakness,” he teased. “Deep-fried poultry.”

  I laughed. “That, and incredibly hot British men.”

  “Have you spotted one of those recently?” he asked. “Because all I’ve seen is an incredibly pathetic British man who let his girlfriend haul his arse out of trouble.”

  Uh oh. It seemed Devon’s pride had taken a beating.

  “And what could you have done?” I asked. “Logically speaking. You’d been attacked by a bobcat and then drugged. There seemed to be little point in me playing the damsel in distress, waiting for you to come around, when I could do what I could to get us out.”

  “True,” he said at last, his blue gaze shrewd on mine. “But still . . . they could’ve hurt you. Hurt you more than either of us could handle.”

  I knew what he was talking about, of course. Having been sexually abused as a child left its scars. I’d been terrified that’s what Luis wanted, and I’d do anything not to let that happen to me again.

  Though Devon’s words threw me slightly. More than either of us could handle.

  “Either of us?” I asked.

  “You’re mine to protect,” he said. “Do you think it wouldn’t grieve me deeply to know I’d failed in such a horrific manner?”

  His tone had changed to serious, his expression grave.

  “I love you,” he said. “That’s a commitment. All I have and am, I devote to you. Including protecting you from any harm.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes. I got up and went to him, sitting myself on his lap and pressing my lips to his. He’d showered, too, but hadn’t yet shaved. The whiskers on his skin gently abraded my palm as I cupped his jaw.

  The sweet kiss quickly turned into more, his arms tightening around me as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding alongside mine. I made a noise of protest.

  “I need to brush,” I said, twisting away slightly. His mouth moved to my neck.

  “Do you think I care?” he murmured against my skin. He turned my face so our lips met again. “Tastes like chicken . . .”