Dangerous Attraction: Part Three (Aegis Group) (2 page)

“Ready,” she said. “Will you tell me what’s going on now?”

“In the car.”

Marcus took her arm and guided her out through the back door, moving at a brisk pace. She almost had to jog to keep up with him. The gate that joined their backyards stood open, and a uniformed officer waited for them on the other side. She didn’t miss the way his hand sat on his service gun. Something was wrong.

“Is my sister okay? What about my parents?”

The officer took her bag and the two men led her to a patrol car parked in front of Marcus’ house. Neither one spoke until she was locked in the backseat.

“Package has been picked up,” Marcus radioed while the driver gassed it out of the driveway.

“What the hell is going on?”

She was used to Travis, who gave her answers. Travis, who didn’t hide the truth from her. These officers were seriously scaring her.

“Ma’am, did anyone come to the door? Anyone at all?” Marcus twisted to look at her through the wire barrier.

“No, no one. Will someone please tell me what’s happened?”

“One of the plainclothes officers is missing. His car is gone.” Marcus’ tone was grim.

“You think—you think Daniel did something?” Cold dread swept her. Bad things weren’t accidents.

“We don’t know anything yet.”

“Your friend, he couldn’t have gone out for coffee or anything?”

“No, he wouldn’t have.”

“Oh, God.” She covered her mouth and closed her eyes. What kind of hell was this? What had she done to deserve this?

“Shit, look out!” Marcus threw his arm up, and the driver slammed on his brakes.

A big black SUV barreled down the road at them, smoke trailing out from under the hood, screeching to a stop so hard it rocked from side to side. The body was dented, and it looked like someone had taken a huge pencil and jabbed holes in the metal.

Bullet holes.

A familiar figure leapt out of the driver’s side, heading straight for them.

Travis.

Her heart pounded twice as hard. He was supposed to be on an airplane. He left her. And yet, he was looking right at her. She slapped her hand against the window and pulled at the door—but there was no handle, not in the back of the cop car.

“What the hell?” Marcus got out and stalked toward Travis.

Their voices were too low for her to hear anything.

Travis.

He told her they weren’t going to work out. By all rights, she should be furious with him. They were broken up. But she couldn’t be happier to see him.

The two men had a short conversation, including a lot of pointing on Marcus’ part. They must have reached an agreement, because the young officer turned and led the way back to the car. He grabbed the door handle and opened it, waving Travis in. She scooted over just in time for Travis to fold himself into the tight space.

God, she’d never seen anything so good in all her life.

A metallic odor tickled her nose and memory.

Bliss gasped.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Travis wrapped his hand around hers and braced his other against the wire barrier. “Drive. Have you heard from the FBI?”

“No, not since earlier,” Marcus replied. “What happened to you?”

“Daniel jumped me.”

Bliss gasped. Daniel had attacked Travis? The rest of the conversation went on without her, but all she could focus on was that Travis was hurt because of her.

“You saw him?”

“Yeah.”

“Was he in a blue car?”

“There was a blue car there.” He rattled off the plates.

“That’s the undercover car.”

“Something happen?”

“An undercover went missing with his car.”

“Damn it.” Travis punched the wire. “I should have checked the damn car.”

Marcus grabbed his cell phone while Travis hit dial on his. The name Ryan Brooks filled the screen. She watched it all happen, but just kept holding onto Travis’ hand.

He was real, and he was right next to her.

What had happened in the hour or so since she last saw him? How had things gone so terribly wrong?

T
ravis kept one hand on Bliss the whole walk from the car to the entrance of the police station, his gaze scanning the vehicles in the parking lot. Marcus strode ahead of them and the driver behind in a tight formation around her. Travis didn’t breathe until they passed through the secured entrance. His leg twinged and his shoulder burned, but they were minor injuries as far as he could tell.

Marcus led them through the warren of departments, moving at a brisk pace. Bliss nearly jogged at his side, puffing and out of breath by the time they made it to the inner sanctum. The homicide department, if Travis had to guess.

Ryan and Jade had their heads together, staring at a file.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Connor drawled.

Travis steered Bliss to a cushy office chair.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“Leave it,” Travis snapped at Connor. He’d already pulled the glass out of his leg, and the wound on his arm was just a graze. It was the lack of sleep and focus that had been his undoing. “Did you find Wendy?”

Connor glanced at Ryan, who nodded, before answering. “Nothing yet. Husband has her locked down tight.”

“If Daniel is making a move on me, and this close to Bliss, he has to know where they’re at. They’re not safe.”

“Maybe you should sit down, let someone take a look at—”

“Shut it, Mullins.” The last thing Travis needed was someone hovering over him because of a couple scratches.

“Morning, Bliss.” Jade breezed past Travis and handed Bliss a cup of coffee. “Connor needs to ask Travis a few questions. Think you can come with me?”

Bliss nodded, never once looking at him.

Travis had screwed up. Not only did he allow his doubt to get the better of him, his rash actions put Bliss and others in danger. That was on him. All of it. The shootout. The potentially dead officer. His fault.

“Right. This morning, what happened?” Connor planted his hands on his hips and stared Travis down despite the difference in height.

“Home office booked my travel back, I went to the rental agency, and when I got there I changed my mind. Decided to stay. Figured it wasn’t a good idea to show up empty-handed, so I stopped for some flowers.” Flowers which had at least made it into the backseat of his SUV before he’d forgotten about them.

“That’s when Daniel jumped you?”

“He must have tailed me. Marcus said something about one of the undercover cars missing?”

“Yeah, car and the dead cop were in the florist’s parking lot.”

“Shit.”

“Like you said, Daniel knew where she was. Time of death was way before you bailed on her.”

Fucking Irishman. Had to rub salt in that wound, didn’t he?

“So, what happened? You had an OK Corral showdown?”

“I came out of the shop, Daniel stepped out of his car and fired at me. I dodged, it grazed my shoulder. Landed behind the SUV, got some glass in my calf.”

“Bullet looks like it grazed you and then broke the van’s window next to you. I’d say it’s safe to assume that’s what you got cut on.”

“Okay, so I pulled my back-up weapon, returned fire, he shot at me, I returned fire, and he left on foot. Any stolen cars reported recently?”

“Nothing yet, but they’re getting security footage from the area, looking for him or how he got away. This is a load of shit.” Connor shook his head. “Are you even technically employed on this case?”

“Not anymore.”

“Cops are going to have a field day with you if they don’t catch Daniel.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Shoot him.”

Travis curled his hands into fists. The damn agent was on his last nerve.

“I’ll call Dmitri and Ben, see what the scene is like. Maybe we can head this off. You’ve been a real pain in the ass, but you do good work.”

Travis glanced in the direction Jade had taken Bliss. An hour apart and he’d lost her. God, he was a screw-up.

“What about her parents?” he asked.

“On their way in. Figure we can keep everyone under one roof until we smoke Daniel out.”

“Except Wendy.”

“Yeah, pain in the ass that husband is. Hey, what if you get your guy working on finding them with Lali?” Connor pressed his cell to his ear.

“Right.” Travis tapped out a quick text to Gavin. The kid was going to hate this request, but they were running low on options.

Connor turned his back on Travis, exchanged a few words, and hung up.

“Right. So why you?” Connor asked.

“Me?”

“No, the asshole standing next to you. Yes, you. What happened out there when you snagged Bliss?”

“Nothing. Ethan and Mason talked to him. He shot Ethan, cut the other vic, and ran.”

“But now he has you tied up in all of this. He knows you and Bliss are involved and that you’ll come for her and her sister. Maybe you’ve become his—what? Arch-nemesis?”

“That’s stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one with a big target on your back. He must have a plan, but he thinks you’ll ruin it, so he has to take you out first.” Connor’s gaze slid off Travis. He stared at the wall and tapped his phone into his palm. “He hasn’t really splintered or gone on a spree yet. It’s more like he’s adapting, which these fuckers don’t always do well. What’s holding him together?”

“Bliss said he has a god complex.”

“Maybe this poor bastard thinks he’s really in control of it all. Perhaps we need to shake his control a bit. Hold onto that thought.”

Travis watched the agent retreat to the case boards set up in an adjoining conference room. The glass walls hid nothing. Table upon table of evidence and documentation. In the middle of it all were glass jars. The ones Bliss had told him about. What plan was the agent cooking up? And would it work?

“Mind giving me a hand?”

Bliss steeled her nerves and turned toward Travis. She’d avoided him since they arrived at the station, hiding out in the break room after answering Jade’s questions. Her emotions were too mixed up for her to make sense of them, and she wasn’t fond of making a spectacle of herself. The FBI agents were politely ignoring whatever it was she’d had with him up at the lake, but her parents wouldn’t.

Travis held a first aid kit in his hand, and his jacket was folded over his other arm. Blood soaked his shirt, and there were several small scratches on his face he hadn’t had when he left her that morning.

“Sure.” What else was she supposed to say?

Bliss pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit.

He plunked the kit onto the table and peeled his long-sleeved thermal shirt off. Her mouth dried up, and her fingers itched to trace his ladder-like abdominal muscles. Forget about what was really going on for just a few minutes. Pretend they were still in that happy place.

Blood smeared down his left arm and shoulder. A pencil-wide gash tore across the top of his bicep, partially scabbed over with bits of cloth stuck in it.

She must have made a face.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad. Bandaging it will go faster with help.”

“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”

“For this? No point.” He handed her a bottle of peroxide and pulled out some bandages. “Let’s do this over there.”

He crossed to the sink, leaving her no choice but to follow him.

This was exactly the kind of thing he’d tried to explain to her. The dangers of his job. It was a hard thing to wrap her mind around, even with a front row seat. He considered a bullet wound no big deal. It was a perspective she didn’t think she could understand.

“Do it,” Travis said prompting her to action.

She poured peroxide along the length of the wound, wincing as it bubbled and fizzed. He simply stood there, staring past her to the wall beyond as if it didn’t hurt at all.

“There.”

He glanced at the wound and picked out a few bits of lint and stray fabric that stuck to the scab.

“Grab the bandages?”

She snagged the pre-packaged gauze and tape, plus an anti-bacterial ointment packet. He leaned down and she applied the topical medicine, not once looking at his face. She couldn’t without the overwhelming tide of emotions doing funny things to her. There was something soothing to the action of patching him up, but she was still...unhappy.

He left her. He came back, but why? Out of some obligation? Because Daniel had surfaced? Or had he wanted to? Nothing made sense, and quite frankly, she was hurt.

“You have every right to be mad at me,” he said.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to. I screwed up. I woke up this morning, realized what I’d said, and freaked the fuck out. I’m sorry.”

An apology was all well and good, but it didn’t sooth the ache inside or bridge the chasm between them now. He’d broken the understood promise. What would stop him from running again?

The mental snapshot of Travis’ face when he jumped out of the SUV on his way back to her tugged at her guilt strings. He saved her when he didn’t have to. Without him, she could already be dead. They were on a rollercoaster, being jerked around. She should cut him some slack, though a part of her also wanted him to grovel for her forgiveness.

She did understand his explanation. Hadn’t she freaked out? The only difference was she hadn’t left. Of course it was natural to panic, considering the depth of what they’d said to each other. But he could have talked to her. He could have suggested they slow down, take some time to think about it. Instead he made a decision for both of them and left. An apology was nice, but it didn’t change what had happened.

“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Are you sure it’s fine?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. I’m not—”

“You’re not good at this stuff?” She cut the last bit of tape and stepped back.

“No, I’m not. I screwed up. I realize that. What can I do to fix it?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t even talk to me. You wouldn’t give me a chance to understand or suggest something else—it was
this is how it’s going to be
. I don’t know if I want to be with someone who doesn’t consider how I feel or what I’m thinking before deciding things with no input from me.”