First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (172 page)

A frown crinkles around her eyes and across her lips, and I immediately want to chase it away. “They would know that’s a lie, I had to use my old register code to access it. They never wipe those damn things.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s what they told him, too. Then they said, ‘Tell Tess to take care of herself, and she’s always welcome back.’”

She slowly blinks her eyes, and I can see the disbelief slowing being replaced by hope. “Really?”

“Apparently one of the co-owners lost a daughter to domestic violence. They saw you take it, Angel. And they saw how desperate you were. You have their blessing, and they’ve been reimbursed. Agent O’Brien isn’t coming here to arrest you, so put that thought out of your mind.”

She’s still shaking her head. “I can’t believe you were just able to make it go away like that.”

“I told you I’d protect you. If you killed someone, baby, I’d help you bury the body.” I wonder how badly Angel is going to freak out when she realizes I would honestly do anything for her.
 

Angel laughs. “You’re so corny.”

“Horny? Why, yes I am.” I take her palm and rub it against my zipper.

Her eyes go wide, and my pants suddenly feel about two sizes smaller. “I want you, too,” she purrs, shifting around to straddle me.

The sexy way she says it is almost enough to make me forget we’re about to have company, and I’m more than a little aware of her thighs wrapped around me. I could seriously consider burying myself in her right now. Judging by the way she’s rubbing against me, she’s on board with that idea. My fingers splay around her waist, holding her still, as much as I don’t want to. While I would love to fuck Angel right now, I don’t have time to do it right. The last thing I need is for her to freak out on me again right before the FBI shows up.

Angel’s watching me, waiting for an explanation, and I swallow hard. “I’m not sure this is the right time.” How idiotic did that sound? Ugh, she’s got me so twisted up, caught between my dick, our desire, and my conscience.

Realization sparks in her eyes. “You’re right. It would feel like too much of a goodbye.”

I let one of my fingers rest against her soft, full lips. “Once all this is over, though, I have every intention of making up for lost time. Stay here while I walk to the main house to greet O’Brien.” As much as I don’t want to, I rise from the bed, trying to ignore how breakable she is. I’m tempted to just take her and run to somewhere where Nick won’t find us. But then she’d always be afraid, and we’d always be looking over our shoulders.
 

Molly hops onto my newly vacated spot on the bed, stretching out against Angel’s leg.

“Will you leave Molly here with me?” Angel winds an aimless hand into Molly’s long fur and gives me a forced smile.

“Yeah. And don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.” I pause before leaving the doorway, overcome with an overwhelming urge to memorize her face. No matter the outcome, her meeting with law enforcement is going to change things. When this is all over, whether Nick is behind bars or not, Angel will be Tess and more than likely she will no longer be on the run. Will she still stay here with me when she has the option of going home?

“Angel, I just want you to know, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare waste those perfect words on this imperfect moment. We will have a later; tell me then.” Her brown eyes are soulful and determined, and everything I feel for her is reflected right back at me.
 

The walk to the main house is quick, and a dark SUV has just pulled up. A thick, balding man with busy eyes that never stay in one place long is climbing out of the back seat, scanning the farm in quick glances. “Mr. Chadwell?”

I scan the man’s faded jeans and polo shirt. He doesn’t look at all like I would expect an FBI agent to look like—nothing like the stereotypical men with dark suits and dark sunglasses you see portrayed in the movies. But I guess that’s why movies are considered fiction; or maybe O’Brien is undercover. “Yes, are you Agent O’Brien?”

“Yeah. Is the girl here? We’re anxious to hear her story.” His eyes flick toward the house, and the way his shoulders bunch and his eyes move, he reminds me of a salivating dog. A very big, very dangerous salivating dog.

“She is, but there are a few things you need to realize. She’s been through a lot, and she’s more than a little flighty. I think it would be better if only one or two of you come to the cottage with me to meet her.”

The passenger door of the SUV opens beside me, and a much thinner, younger man steps out.

“Is she willing to turn evidence?” O’Brien asks, calling my attention back to him.

“You’ll have to ask her that. I would imagine it depends on what you’re willing to offer her, and how confident you make her that she won’t be throwing her life away by talking to you. Nick has her convinced that he will kill to keep his secrets hidden, and all she’s agreed to do is talk with you.”

O’Brien’s eyes roam to the younger man, and a cold smile passes between them. “We understand, Mr. Chadwell. But you need to understand that we are the experts. Take us to her, and we’ll go from there.”

His pushy ass is starting to piss me off, and I’m tempted just to shut this whole thing down, but it has to be her call. “I also need assurances that she won’t be charged in conjunction with the part she played in Nick’s organization.”

The thinner guy speaks for the first time. “Her part was insignificant. It isn’t a concern.”

Something doesn’t feel right, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what, and I can’t think of any other ground rules to set. Still, something is off. “All right then. One last thing, if you don’t mind. I’ll need to see some identification.”

Forty Three

Angel

I thought Arion would have been back by now. My nerves are crackling like well-burning fire, oxygenated by my worries, and I can’t sit still. I’ve worn a circle in the dust coating the floor through my pacing by the time Molly runs to the door.

“Finally!” I crack the door to peek out, and Molly weaves through as soon as it’s opened enough, streaking into the leafy underbrush of the woods. “Molly, wait!”
 

She doesn’t even toss a glance back in my direction. Why didn’t she take the trail? Arion is nowhere to be seen, so whatever set her off must be what she’s after. I don’t have the best sense of direction, but if I’m right, the section of forest she disappeared into runs behind the barns. “Molly,” I call again, only to be met with silence. The forest is eerily quiet, and goosebumps prickle up my spine. It’s too quiet.

Arion’s going to be pissed if he gets back to the cottage with the agents and I’m gone, but he’ll also be pissed if his dog gets lost in the woods. I struggle past the welcoming committee of thorns and tree roots, keeping my eyes peeled for a little blur of brown and white. “Molly!” She’s seriously lucky she’s so cute.

Something moves off to my right, and I aim toward it, wiping sweat off my brow with the sleeve of my shirt. While the height of the trees with their broad branches and abundant sweet-smelling leaves blocks a good bit of the sun, the humidity infiltrates it just fine. The sounds of movement are growing louder, and I expect I’ll find the source any minute when Molly barks off to my left.

If Molly is barking to my left, what is moving ahead of me? A ball of dread roots into my stomach, and I freeze, trying to calm my rising panic. It could be a deer, or a loose horse, or anything. Like a serial killer.
 

I’m trying to convince myself I’m being silly when someone calls out, maybe only a few trees away.

“I’ve got her. Over here!”

I don’t recognize the voice, only the animosity in it. They aren’t talking about Molly.

Someone starts crashing through the trees ahead of me while someone else rustles the underbrush off to the side. I spin, ignoring the thorns tugging at my jeans, and scramble in the direction of the cottage. Muttered exclamations of pursuit come from behind, urging me faster, but my legs are burning from strain and scratches, and each moment I run, the sounds get a little closer.

There are two possibilities as to the identity of whoever is chasing me. Either the agents decided to arrest me after all and came looking when I wasn’t in the cottage, or—
 

I burst into the cottage’s clearing and run right into Nick. His green eyes are almost luminous with anger—or is that jealousy? How did I ever think he was handsome? He’s beanpole thin, and I almost think Arion could take him in a fair fight. But Arion is nowhere to be seen, and Nick will never fight fair. It dawns on me belatedly that I wasn’t being chased, I was being herded.

His hard eyes watch me above a lazy, satisfied smile as I try to calm my breathing. Every one of my muscles is coiled, poised for flight. I just need to figure out which way to run. As much as I want to look away from him, I can’t. He holds me captive with just his glowering eyes. Once, I thought they were like a little piece of the sky, offering freedom. Now, they are more like an ocean. One I’m drowning in, as I stand here, gasping for my last breaths before him.

I’m still evaluating options for escape as someone crashes into the clearing behind me and rough hands shove me forward, causing me to crash into Nick. The supple leather of his jacket feels as familiar as my growing apathy.

“If I didn’t know better, Tess, I’d think you were anxious to see me.” His hand comes up, roughly gripping me beneath my chin and forcing me to look at him.
 

I recognize the sharp laugh that comes from behind me as belonging to Carl, one of Nick’s so-called brothers, though he looks more like Nick’s father with his balding head and ever-expanding middle.

I don’t think there is anything I can say to save myself, so I speak my mind. “Anxious to see you rot in prison.”

The back of Nick’s hand cracks across my face, and I stagger, already wondering if fighting back is worth it. Pain arcs through my jaw as the bitter taste of blood fills my mouth. Only his harsh hand gripping my elbow keeps me from falling, and I barely have my feet under me before he starts dragging me down the path that runs between the main house and the cottage. My vision blurs, and the world around me takes on the texture of something viewed through stained glass. A weak flame of hope flickers as I realize we are headed to where Arion will be meeting O’Brien.

“I met your boyfriend, and I have to say:
 
I think you downgraded.” Nick’s fingers bite my flesh, sharing his displeasure as his words sting my heart.

“What have you done with him?” Hearing Nick talking about Arion drives me into a feral rage, and I begin kicking at his legs while clawing the hand wrapped around my other arm.
 

Nick may be tall and thin, but he’s no weakling and I’m not exactly large myself. He catches both my wrists, captures them with one hand and then hoists me over his shoulder, giving me an upside-down view of the pine needles covering the ground beneath his boots. My breaths become short and shallow as his shoulder digs into my ribs.

My head is beginning to throb, in part from the way he hit me across the jaw and in part from the blood rushing to it as he carries me. I don’t want to die, and I sure as hell don’t want to die like this, but I know without a doubt that’s what is about to happen. It may not be quick or painless, but it will be relatively soon. All I can do is hope Nick was lying and that somehow Arion is safe.

When we arrive back at the house, I expect Nick to shove me in the black SUV that I catch a glimpse of, but he doesn’t. He jerks his head toward the car and tells Carl to wait there for him. There’s so much menace in his tone, even Carl flashes me a brief look of sympathy.

Sympathetic or not, Carl doesn’t interfere and neither does the other of Nick’s goons pacing by the back door of the house.
 

My lack of safety is a foregone conclusion, but my hope for Arion’s is waning with each passing moment. I know now that Arion was right. Nick may not want to just execute me, not until he’s satisfied he’s made me pay. But what reason would he have to keep Arion around?
 

Even as my hopes sink, I know I cannot give up. Arion wanted me to fight. But how can I fight someone so much stronger than me? My determination is jerking back and forth like a yo-yo, bouncing between wanting it to just be over and wanting to make Arion proud.

At some point during our trek to the barn, Nick released my wrists, and they now hang long over his back to his waist. I can just make out the outline of his phone in his back pocket, and it gives me an idea. Under the guise of struggling free, I pound against his back, demanding he let me go. In the midst of one of my pitiful jabs, my fingers fish his phone out of his pocket, and I tuck it into my palm, praying I’ll get a chance to use it.

I realize with a twisted sense of amusement that my cloying panic has fallen away, replaced by sad acceptance. Not fighting will not save me, so I’m sure as fuck not going to make it easy for him.

The scent of hay and straw engulfs us as Nick rolls the door to the hay barn open, still carrying me. He fumbles along the dusty wall until he finds a light switch then rolls the door closed, sealing us alone together. One half of the barn is filled with neatly interlocked bales of hay piled from floor to ceiling, like a stairway to nowhere. Nick’s boots barely create a whisper against the loose hay scattered on the floor as he marches across it.

Dust sparkles in beams of light filtering through the rafters, and in my increasingly delirious state, I wonder if the dust is dancing as a final farewell. But that’s stupid, because why would the dust give a shit if I’m about to die. The truth is, no one does, except my mom, who doesn’t know where I am, and Arion who may already be dead himself. A sob wracks through me, and I silently berate myself for my weakness. I have to be stronger than this.

The far corner of the barn is occupied by a large pile of loose sawdust, and it is here that Nick drops me in a heap. Sawdust poofs around my face, scratching at my skin and clogging my throat, and I wonder if my end is going to come faster than I thought. I hastily shove his phone into the sawdust beside me, hoping he didn’t see it.