Hell on Wheels (22 page)

Automatically his heartbeat slowed.

The world around him faded to black, the discomfort of the steamy attic forgotten as every cell in his body focused on only one thing. The five S’s of the snipers’ mantra: slow, smooth, straight, steady, squeeze.

Well, he’d forgo the squeeze part.

After all, if the guy was CIA, he was on a government-sanctioned mission.
So
even though Nate would’ve liked to add a nice, neat hole between the man’s eyes for having the colossally bad taste to point that piece at Ali, he kept his finger poised outside the trigger guard.

Instead, he focused the laser on the scene in the park. And, sure enough, when he centered that evil red dot smack-dab on the back of the guy’s extended hand, Mr. Saturday-in-the-Park’s exposed jaw turned white as bleached sugar before he bolted into the nearby woods.

The woman holding the dog’s leash jumped back, startled. Her fat pooch let loose a mournful bellow, floppy ears slipping down its swollen back as it lifted his head and cried its surprise.

The walls of the attic snapped into view as Nate lifted his head from the scope and cursed.

He ignored the urge to throw down his weapon and give chase; Mystery Man would be halfway to Texas by the time he even made the park.

So, yeah, the best thing for him to do would be to stay exactly where he was. Watching. Waiting. With five rounds of angry lead that could quickly affect an attitude adjustment in any unfriendly individuals.

Just like Grigg always said,
The
quickest
way
to
change
a
person’s mind on a subject is a 138gr boat tail
.

Fuckin’-A and Hoo-ah!

***

As Ali sat on a five-gallon paint bucket in the filthy garage with the cool, disturbing length of Nate’s reserve weapon resting against her thigh, she was having second thoughts about her decision to accompany him on this little errand.

It hadn’t been a pretty sight that morning when she’d demanded to come along. All the Knights, except for Becky, had sided with Nate, demanding she tell them where the zip drive was located so Nate could go retrieve it.

“No way. This is as much my problem as it is any of yours. More so, come to think of it. I’m the one being followed, mugged, bugged and, oh yeah, I’m also the one who had a gun pointed at her head,” she’d said, glaring at the group squeezed together in Frank Knight’s small office.

“Which is exactly why you should stay here,” Frank said, cool gray eyes watching her warily.

“Oh,” she lifted her chin, “so it’s perfectly fine for Nate to go out and risk his life, but there are different rules when it comes to me? I don’t think so.” Just the thought of sending Nate out alone made her want to scream, especially knowing he’d probably retrieve the drive, solve the mystery, and deign to keep her completely in the dark.

“He’s trained, Ali,” Ozzie spoke with soft authority, which was a little weird considering the guy was wearing nothing but sci-fi pajama bottoms to go along with his rioting hair. It looked like he’d hopped out of bed and in order to blow dry his hair. Backward. “And you, my dear, are not.”

“I have more training than any of you likely know. Grigg wasn’t a slouch when it came to—”

“Ali,” Nate interrupted her, his voice gravelly, black eyes hard as slate when she swung her attention toward him. “Please come with me.”

Oh…perfect.

She cast a furtive glance around the gathered group and was met with impassive expressions.

Okay, so no help from the peanut gallery.

Except for Becky. Becky made a face and then gave her a reassuring wink. Ali appreciated the gesture, but it did nothing to calm her roiling stomach.

This was going to be bad, very bad. But it wasn’t like she could refuse him. If she did, she had no doubt the Knights would just file out of the office, leaving her in the same predicament. Alone. With Nate.

She grimaced and blew out a breath before gathering the cat in her arms. She stood and followed Nate up the metal stairs and into his spartan bedroom.

The
scene
of
last
night’s crime
, she thought sourly and wanted to cry at the piercing memory of his callous rejection.

Instead, she mustered all her self-confidence and, lifting her chin, strode purposefully past him to sit on the edge of his bed. At least there he wouldn’t notice her legs were wobbly as wet noodles, not to mention the fact that her arms were aching from Peanut’s considerable weight.

“You’re not going to change my mind,” she told him, watching warily as he casually lowered himself into his leather recliner, pushing back and propping his big-booted feet on the footstool. He regarded her with diamond-hard eyes.

“
Why
d’you wanna come?”

“Because Grigg was my brother, and I’m sick to death of secrets. If I let you get your hands on that zip drive, I’ll never know what this has all been about.”

He simply watched her.

“You don’t deny it?” she asked incredulously.

He didn’t move an inch, didn’t speak; it didn’t even look like he breathed.

So it began. The part where he simply sat and waited her out.

Well, it wasn’t going to work this time. Nuh-uh. No way. No how.

The silence stretched on and on and
on.
She could actually hear the second hand ticking away on his wristwatch. Peanut’s rotund belly gave a warning growl before he emitted a very un-feline fart.

“Cripes,” she said, waving hand in front of her face, trying to waft away the fairly rancid aroma of partially digested Fancy Feast.

Nate blinked, unmoved by Peanut’s gastrointestinal attempt to break the tension.

Dropping her hand to scratch Peanut’s chin—the cat actually seemed to be smiling—she glared at Nate’s frustratingly impassive face. This
wasn’t
going to work. She could wait him out until their hair turned gray. She could just sit here and bide her time and—

“Oh!” she threw her hands in the air. It was either that or she was going to use them to strangle the man. “Speak, for the love of God! Speak!”

Peanut let loose with a soulful, drawn-out
mereeow
. His scarred black nose pointed toward the ceiling as his crooked tail flicked back and forth in agitation.

“Not you!” she admonished the cat in annoyance. “You!” she pointed a finger at Nate’s muscled chest.

“What’d’ya want me to say?” he asked, sighing resignedly. “If I deem the information too delicate for civilian consumption then, yeah, I’ll make sure it’s only seen by authorized personal, which you’re not.”

“But he was my brother!” she screamed at him, furious and frustrated and scared she just might lose this battle and then she’d never know what any of it meant. “I deserve to know just what the devil he was involved with.”

“No,” he stated with ultra-cool conviction. The Ice Man was back in full force. “You don’t. Besides, you already know too much.”

“Sheesh,” she pulled Peanut to her chest, comforted by his kitty warmth. “So what does that mean? Now you’re going to have to kill me?”

Did government spies/covert defense contractors really snuff-out snoopy civilians, or was that just in the movies?

Although, come to think of it, fiction was usually built, at least in part, on fact.

Well, crapola.

“Never,” Nate vowed, his already deep voice reduced to a guttural growl, almost savage. “I’ll never let anyone or anything harm you, Ali.”

Wow. She swallowed the knot of…
something
that’d sprouted furry legs and crawled up to sit in her throat. What did a girl say to something like that?

“Th-thank you?”

His jaw firmed, if that was possible considering it already looked like it was made of marble. “I promised Grigg.”

“Oh,” she said, and frowned.

What was that strange sensation in her chest? Disappointment?

“So given that,” he pinned her with a pointed look, “you’re stayin’ here.”

“Read my lips,” she told him sweetly, more determined than ever. She was sick and tired of no one trusting her. It ended now. Today. “No effing way. You want that zip drive? Well, you’re taking me with you to get it. I’m finished being left out in the dark. I
can
keep a secret, you know.”

If only Grigg had trusted her, told her the truth years ago, perhaps they wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

“Ali.” It was a warning.

“Yes, Nate?” she smiled and batted her lashes.

“You’re gonna give me the location of that zip drive if I hafta paddle your ass ’til it blisters.”

The erotic imagery momentarily seared her weary brain as something hot fluttered low in her belly.

Huh. How about that? Did she
want
to have her bottom spanked? She’d never thought she was into that before, but with Nate?

Yeah, maybe…

Then the import of his words sank in or, more importantly, the infuriating male arrogance and lack of respect behind them.

“
What
?” she demanded, standing and ignoring Peanut’s disgruntled growl when he slid off her lap and plopped to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Y’heard me,” he answered, one brow raised tauntingly.

Oh, that did it. She could almost forgive him for not telling her the truth about Grigg’s death. He might have sworn some sort of oath on the Bible, or the U.S. Constitution, or his mother’s grave, or whatever it was they made spies/covert defense contractors, or whatever the h-e-double-hockey-sticks he was, swear oaths on.

But one thing she could not, would not, abide was this macho male attitude, this arrogant highhandedness.

Oh no, he di-int!

She did a mental z-snap and channeled her inner badass.

With as much aplomb as she could muster, given she thought she might explode in a blast of righteous fury any second, she marched over to where he reclined
oh
so
nonchalantly.

Her smile was feigned and feral as a jungle cat when she stopped in front of him. “I may have come to you for help, but last time I checked I’m not a six-year-old girl and you’re certainly not my father.”

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled under his breath, eyeing her I’m-gonna-kill-you expression with enough mild indifference she was hard pressed not to punch him in the middle of his damnably attractive face.

What was it about the man that made her thirst for violence? She was mild mannered by nature, but something in Nate Weller brought out the tigress in her. She wanted to bite and scratch and hiss…

“So it stands to reason, bucko,” she fisted her hands on her hips and leaned down to put her face mere inches from his, “that you can take your misogynistic threats and shove them straight up your butt.”

Your
really
fine, really hard butt!
The one she usually wanted to take a bite out of, but currently craved kicking straight into next week.

When his lips twitched, her right bicep bunched in readiness to take a swing.

He seemed to read the intent in her eyes, because he democratically cleared his throat and managed to wipe the semi-smirk from his face. “Sounds painful. I’ll just forgo that, if y’don’t mind.”

“Oooh, don’t go getting a sense of humor now!” She was so irritated, she actually stomped her foot—and she was not the foot-stomping type.

“’Scuse me?” He actually seemed genuinely perplexed.

“Y’heard me,” she mimicked his accent and mashed-up word usage. “I’m too furious to deal with the sudden appearance of your nascent wit. So you’d better just watch it.”

When one black brow inched slowly up the broad expanse of his forehead, she slid him a murderous sidelong glance.

“Oh, yeah?” he taunted with a slow drawl. “Or you’re gonna do what?”

Was it possible for blood to actually boil? Because there was a definite sizzling burning along her veins.

“I may be small, but I’m mean,” she warned. Plus, Grigg had taught her a few very effective ways to outmaneuver a man twice her size. She itched for Nate to give her one good reason to put those skills to the test.

Just. One.

When his lips twitched again, that did it.

Before she even thought about her next move, she lifted her foot and stomped down on the recliner’s footstool, propelling him jerkily into a sitting position. His big feet clunked on the floor as his hair whipped forward to momentarily cover his eyes. He slowly raised a broad palm and carefully raked it back into place.