All the Way (17 page)

Whiz. Click. Snap. Churn. The camera hit the carpet with a thud. His lips were on hers before the sound of the fallen camera resonated through the room.

She pulled him to her by wrapping her legs around his body. She submitted to the entrance of his swollen tip. Her hands wildly roamed his body as she caressed the fairy-kiss over his left eye.

He steadied her for his full entrance by grasping her shoulders. He lowered himself into her, sinking into her all-consuming heat with one thrust. Her fingers combed through his hair, igniting new sensations over his scalp.

“Angel.”

“Adriano.” Her hands drove down the length of his body, cradling the firm haunches of his backside.

His mission became providing her with a climax unequaled to anything she had ever experienced in her lifetime. “This has been the best assignment of my life.” He kissed the hollow of her neck. “I want you to remember this time forever.” He nibbled the spot on her shoulder that made her sigh. “You are beyond beautiful.” He cupped her breast in his hand and taunted her nipple with his teeth.

“You are everything I've ever wanted in a woman,” he whispered in her ear as he rode her into his pleasure zone.

Losing control of the sensations ricocheting through her body, she bucked wildly beneath him. “Adriano—”

He consumed her words with his lips and increased the speed and vigor of his powerful hips until she tensed and called his name. As her body twitched and twisted beneath him, he pulled all his emotion into a concentrated knot below the apex of his heart. His mind raced wildly, becoming lost somewhere between fantasy and reality. His body became tangled in the slow burn of sexual release as he matched the funky rhythm from the radio with the thrust of his manhood.

“Adriano.” She whispered his name once more, and he emptied into her, releasing every emotion he didn't dare express in words.

He held her for a long time afterward, not willing to let her go. Finally, he understood Jake's lectures about the benefits of having one special woman in his life. He could picture himself returning home to Payton at the end of the day, using her as inspiration to complete his assignments as fast as possible, anxious to get back to her. He wanted to share the private areas of his life with Payton. She would be fascinated, not judgmental, when he took her home to the reservation to meet his family. She was vibrant and inquisitive, with independent goals; life with her would never be dull.

“Is that a phone ringing?” Payton asked, sitting up.

The tinkling ring caught him by surprise. It didn't sound like the satellite phone's low-pitch jingle, but he knew it was Jake, somehow getting a message to him. He'd been worried about his friend, but he'd known Jake would come through. Still, it didn't stop him from being relieved. He climbed from the bed and fished through the dresser for the satellite phone.

“It's not the satellite phone,” Payton said, standing next to him.

Adriano followed the sound, going to the closet and retrieving the suitcase Jake had given them. The ringing became louder. He placed the empty bag on the bed, searching the lining until he found a small phone tucked away behind the fabric.

“Disposable cell,” he told Payton, pushing the button to answer the call. “Hello?” he said, remaining cautious until Jake explained the lack of contact.

Mr. Conners's panicked voice came across the line. “Adriano, thank God. Run!”

Chapter 19

Payton jogged alongside Adriano, fighting to keep up with his long strides. Even weighed down with the suitcase and camera bag, he moved swiftly through the field of leafy tobacco plants. The six-foot plants swiped at Payton's face, and the yellow green leaves left gooey deposits on her skin. Dusk was upon them, and the dark southern night was coming quickly. She couldn't see where they were going, but Adriano stood a hair above the tallest plant, his strides determined as he carried them through the maze of plants. She trusted he had a destination in mind.

“Adriano,” she puffed, trying to catch her breath, “slow down just a little.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist, sweeping her up into his frantic pace. “Can't, angel. We have to put distance between us and the plantation.”

“What did Mr. Conners say? Exactly.”

“I told you. He said to run.”

“How did he sound when he said it?”

He hesitated before answering. He was growing weary of her questions, but he kept his temper. “He sounded worried. Mr. Conners never loses his cool.”

She stumbled, going down on one knee. Adriano stopped a few feet ahead. His back was stiff, and he ran his hand across his face before he turned back for her. “Are you okay?” he asked, helping her up.

“My legs aren't as long as yours.” She refused to be a liability. She wouldn't ask him to stop for a short rest, even if her lungs were burning. She had no right to complain, but her legs were still aching from their vigorous lovemaking less than an hour ago. She'd keep jogging to keep up with him, blindly trusting him to get them out of the tobacco fields. She'd ignore the sticky goo from the plants and the bugs swarming around her.

“We have to keep moving, angel,” he said almost apologetically.

“I'm ready.” She brushed the legs of her jeans. She looked up at him, struggling to make out his facial features in the darkening night.

“Damn!”

“I'll keep up.”

“No,” he said, pacing a short distance away from her. “No. You're doing fine.” He trudged back to her.

“You're mad at yourself?” she asked incredulously. “Why? I'm the one who got you into this.”

“I'm protecting you,” he corrected her. “It means I have to have a plan, and right now I don't have one, angel. We don't have a car. There's less than a hundred dollars in my pocket. We're walking through this disgusting tobacco field, and it'll be so dark in a few minutes we won't be able to see our hands in front of our faces.” He cursed again. “I was distracted,” he said, chastising himself but condemning both their actions.

Payton's stomach sank. No matter what happened, she would always consider what they'd shared special. She never wanted to connect it to anything negative. She went to him, placing her hand along his cheek. “But we're alive. And that's only because of what you've done so far. This is a setback. Not the end.”

He watched her, wanting to believe she believed her words.

“We were both distracted. Time to get back on track. Do whatever it takes to get to FBI headquarters in Columbia. We're just hours away.”

A wide beam of light swept the tobacco field, just missing where they stood. Adriano's quick reflexes allowed him to drop the suitcase and tackle her before the beam crossed them. The air whooshed from her lungs underneath his weight.

“Shh,” he said, cupping his palm over her mouth.

When the sound of the car engine faded, Adriano left her, running toward the edge of the field. She called after him, but he didn't answer. He returned minutes later, the perfect planes of his face marred by worry.

“It's a black sedan,” he told her. “Couldn't see who was inside.” He picked up the suitcase and readjusted the camera bag hanging around his neck.

“Tom and Lila.”

“Let's go.”

She scrambled to her feet, distracted by what was happening back at the farmhouse. More people hurt because of her. If she'd gone to the police right after she'd left the Adam's Mark, none of this would be happening.

“Jump on.” Adriano went down on one knee, indicating she should ride him piggyback.

“I can walk.”

“It's faster this way.”

She didn't argue, just climbed on his back, hoping the height would give her a view of the house.

Adriano rose, taking off at full speed. She hadn't realized his lean build possessed so much physical strength. He carried her and the suitcase, running through the tobacco field, hardly breathing fast at all. She pressed her cheek to his, absorbing some of his strength to comfort her.

“Tom and Lila will be all right,” he told her, never breaking his stride.

“What's the meaning of this?” Tom pulled his robe tight, tying the belt as he opened the front door. “Why are you banging on my door in the middle of the night?” His grumping was cut short when he saw the huge figure on his doorstep. The porch light cast a ghastly glow across the man's face, illuminating the evil of his intentions.

“What's the matter, Tom?” Lila asked as she came downstairs.

He turned to warn her to go back, but the man's voice stopped him.

“Sorry to bother you folks,” he said, straining to sound polite, “but it's sorta an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Lila wrapped her arms around Tom's waist, surveying the man behind the partial cover of his shoulder.

“We're looking for our sister.” A petite woman dressed in tan leather nudged the big man out of the way. Gorgeous, she was tiny beside the man, but no less lethal.

Lila's grip tightened on Tom's arm, and he knew she sensed a problem too.

“Who's your sister?” Tom asked. “I know most of my workers by name, but some of the new ones—”

“Payton.” The woman held up a polished professional picture of Payton.

Tom eyed the photo, his heart warming. She'd never spoken of her troubles, but they were always there—haunting her—reflected in the weariness of her eyes. This picture of her in a more carefree time proved it.

The big man on the porch shifted, his hand disappearing beneath his jacket. The woman stepped in front of him, stopping him from doing whatever he'd planned to do.

“She's here, isn't she?” the woman asked, her voice calm and calculated.

Tom internally debated his options, but there weren't many. If there was any doubt he and Lila were in extreme danger, the bulge beneath the woman's leather jacket cleared it up. Bob Conners had been clear: if anyone comes asking, tell them the truth—don't be a hero. It's the reason Tom and Lila never asked why the kids were hiding out or whom they were running from.

“We're really worried about her,” the woman said. “If we could come in and take a look—”

“They're gone,” he answered.

The woman's brow eased upward. “Where'd they go?”

“Didn't say. Hightailed it out of here in the middle of the night.”

“When?” the woman wanted to know.

Lila answered, “Yesterday after dinner.”

The lie came so easily, Tom fought to keep his face straight and devoid of expression.

“Just the same,” the man said, “we'd like to come in and look for ourselves.”

 

 

Payton stood guard as Adriano hot-wired the old truck. Her feet were on fire. She was dirty and tired. Hungry. And very scared. The truck was tucked away behind a house miles down the road from Tom and Lila's farm, which meant the black sedan wasn't too far away. There were lights on inside the house, upstairs, probably a bedroom. Adriano knew the residents. He'd made a stop here with Tom one morning. A husband and wife, three kids, and a dog—typical southern family. They weren't wealthy, as most farmers in the area were just getting by. Taking their truck would cause them hardship. Adriano promised her they would use it to put some distance between them and the tobacco plantation and then leave it for the family to retrieve.

The motor roared to life, and Payton wondered if the truck was in good-enough shape to take them anywhere.

“Let's go, angel!” Adriano shouted, pulling up next to her. He took off before she closed the door, but not before the husband ran out with a shotgun. Adriano pushed her down in the seat, ducking himself as he drove as fast as the rickety truck would go. They were bumping down the road when he started laughing.

“What's funny?” Payton asked as she righted herself.

“I haven't stolen a car since I was sixteen.”

She fastened her belt. “And how did that turn out?”

His laughter faded. “Not too good when my father had to pick me up from the local police station.”

 

 

Payton had fallen asleep, her head propped against the glass, by the time they stopped. Adriano had found a town smaller, if possible, than the last. He parked the truck behind a closed television repair shop and retrieved their suitcase before waking her.

He lifted her down from the truck, holding her closely. “Do you want me to carry you again?”

“Do you want me to carry the suitcase for a while?”

He smiled. “Let's go. There's a motel a few blocks down.”

The streets were deserted, lit by a single streetlight stationed in front of the town hall. This town was small but quaint. The buildings were decorated with bright paints and plenty of flowers. The streets were clean, spotless. This was the type of place where time stood still and the realities of murder and the drug trade didn't exist. The news reported stories on the high-school quarterback, not hits on FBI agents.

“Where are we?”

“Sign said Pageland.”

The first thing Payton did once they checked into the motel was grab a phone book. Inside the back cover she found a map of South Carolina. While Adriano showered, she measured the miles between Pageland and Columbia.

“What are you doing?” Adriano asked. He emerged from the bathroom with a towel straining to surround his waist. He was shirtless, his torso glistening from the water droplets. His legs materialized from beneath the towel, dark and hair-covered, but Payton knew from experience the hair was soft, like down feathers. He stood over her shoulder, drying his hair.

“Best I can tell—”

“
Best you can tell?
Too much time with Lila. You're turning into a country girl.”

The mood turned solemn. “You think they're okay?”

“I'll ask Mr. Conners first chance I get.” He sat across from her at the tiny square table.

“We're about two hours away from Columbia. I don't want to hide out anymore. Let's jump on a bus or a train or whatever comes through here and go to Columbia. In the morning.”

Adriano scrubbed his hair with the towel.

“What?”

“I'd like to have a contact, someone expecting us, before we go strolling into the FBI office.”

“We can't afford to wait any longer.”

“I know,” he admitted. “Still. I don't like the fact Mr. Conners called instead of Jake. And why not use the satellite phone?” He pointed to where he'd placed it on the bedside table.

“Something has happened.”

“How did Grazicky's men find us? Jake and Mr. Conners were the only ones who knew where we were hiding. They must have gotten to Jake.”

She reached across the table, placing her hand on his forearm. “Why don't you call him? You pitched the disposable cell, and Sherman can't trace the satellite signal, right?”

Adriano dropped the towel, and his hair fell in dark, tight ringlets around his face. “No. Jake will call when it's safe.”

“Columbia in the morning?” she prodded.

His eyes met hers. He was unsure and reluctant, but he knew there was no other way. They were out there alone, their only link to what was going on with Sherman cut off. Their money was dwindling—paying for two bus tickets would be a stretch. Sherman was close—too close. “It's time, Adriano.”

He nodded once, standing and leaving her alone at the table.

 

 

The silky dark tendrils of Adriano's hair cascaded across Payton's naked belly.

She giggled.

“Keep still,” he commanded.

“It tickles.”

His tongue moved across her belly, and her insides pulled together tightly in anticipation.

“I want to be on top,” she told him.

“No.” He tickled the soles of her feet as punishment for asking.

She squirmed, squealing in delight.

“Keep still,” he told her.