Highways & Hostages (25 page)

Stella and Phoebe ran toward each other and embraced. Derek passed them to speak with Julian, who was standing behind his own open car door.

“I was SO worried about you.” Stella looked Phoebe over from head to toe, spun her around, and did it again. Besides dark circles under her eyes, Phoebe looked like she usually did. Stella hugged her fiercely.

“I’m glad to see you…even though it took you, like, five years,” Phoebe said, drawing back. She wrapped her arms around herself and glared at Stella.

“Are you kidding me? Do you even know what I went through these last couple of days to get you back?”

Derek stepped between the two sisters.

“Oh, great,
he’s
here,” Phoebe muttered darkly.

“Don’t you dare—” Stella began.

“HEY!” Derek yelled, silencing everyone. “Let’s get you two back home. You can yell at each other later.”

He nodded at Julian, then pressed Stella and Phoebe toward the truck. Phoebe shied away from his touch and turned back to Julian.

“Remember what I said about the lighter—you have to hold it pretty far away from your body, otherwise you’ll end up burning yourself too,” she said.

Over Phoebe’s head, Stella and Derek exchanged a bewildered look. Julian nodded, a smile on his face. Derek got into the driver’s seat of the truck while Stella waited for Phoebe to climb into the middle seat. Stella got in after her and closed the door.

“Where’s the Beetle?” Phoebe asked, looking from Derek to Stella as he cranked the truck. “Can we stop for a burger and a milkshake? I am
dying
for some junk food.”

Derek glanced at Stella over Phoebe’s head. She rolled her eyes and gave a slight nod. Derek pulled out of the parking lot.

By the time the truck pulled up to the trailer, Phoebe was snoring gently into Stella’s shoulder. Stella was still wide awake, and beyond glad to be back home. Derek turned the truck off and Phoebe opened her eyes. She pushed herself off Stella, embarrassed, and wiped her face. Everyone got out of the vehicle.

“We got your burger and milkshake,” Stella said. “Strawberry, right?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Phoebe said to her feet, clutching the bag of food. She trudged up the stairs and waited next to the front door. Stella climbed after her, with Derek trailing behind, holding her duffel bag. She opened the door to the trailer, but before she could even step over the threshold, Phoebe stormed past.

“Are you kidding me?” Derek said, moving around Stella into the house.

“Derek, drop it. I’m exhausted,” Stella pleaded as Derek followed Phoebe down the hall toward her room.

Derek grabbed Phoebe’s upper arm and steered her back toward the living room.

“Let go of me!” she shouted. Her eyes darted quickly between Stella and Derek. “You’re going to let him throw me around like this?”

Derek dumped her on the couch. Stella ran over and put a hand on Derek’s arm. “Please, leave it. Who knows how they treated her?”

“No, Stella. I’m not leaving it,” he snapped, glaring at Phoebe. “
You
are a
brat
. A selfish, immature brat.”

Phoebe glowered at him. Stella closed her eyes and put a hand to her head. The headache was back in full force.

“Your sister was told that you were kidnapped, and she dropped everything to drive halfway across the country to rescue you.”

“The only reason she came looking for me is because she didn’t want to get in trouble with my parents. She doesn’t care about me.” Phoebe crossed her arms and stared at the floor, hair hanging over her face.

Stella moved next to Derek. Whatever was left of his patience was nearly shot. As an only child—well, he’d told
her he was an only child, anyway—he wasn’t used to fighting with siblings.

“Could you give us a minute?” she asked.

Derek took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. He let out a deep sigh and put them back on. “Sure. I’ll be outside.”

Stella took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and counted to ten before sitting next to Phoebe on the sofa. She tentatively moved some of Phoebe’s hair out of her face.

“Honey, you know that’s not true. Whether you believe it or not, you’re my little sister, and I totally care about you. I was scared and angry when I found out what happened to you. What
did
happen?”

Phoebe sat up and pushed her hair behind her ears. “That night we argued at the Leaky Stein—well, the
last
time we argued there—I walked outside to smoke and met this really cute guy named Will. He invited me to hang out with him, but he freaked me out so I tried to knee him in the balls, and then he tied me to a chair. I managed to escape, but then this guy jumped out of an SUV and I woke up in that bald guy’s house.” Her lower lip trembled and her eyes watered.

Stella rubbed her sister’s back in slow circles. “Phoebe—”

“Stella, don’t. I already know what you’re going to say. Yes, it was all my fault for hanging around and talking to strangers,” Phoebe said, sniffling.

Stella felt for her, but she was glad to see Phoebe’s hard-ass exterior finally cracking.

“That’s not
exactly
what I was going to say, Phee. It wasn’t your fault. This guy at the Stein wanted me to help him by driving him to Texas. He knew you were my sister, so he had his friend, Billy, kidnap you in order to blackmail me into helping him.”

“Aha! So it’s
your
fault,” Phoebe said, a smile trying to make an appearance through her tears.

Stella sighed heavily. “Guess so. Must be my charming personality.” She patted Phoebe on the leg. “I think maybe you should head back to Ohio. I’ve managed to get you involved in some crazy stuff.”

“Are you kidding me? This is the most excitement I’ve had in ages. And I can totally help you kick some ass. Besides, you said we were going to a spa. We didn’t even really get to hang out that much.”

“You actually want to hang out with me?” Stella asked. “You don’t act like it.”

Phoebe gave her a tiny smile. “That’s the whole reason I came out here. To get to know my big sister.”

Stella felt the same rush of warmth she’d felt toward Derek in the truck. “Go get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Derek will probably have some questions for you.”

“Ugh, why do I have to talk to Super Geek?”

Stella stood up and stretched. “Because Super Geek is really an FBI agent—excuse me—
specialist
. Now go to bed.”

Stella left Phoebe sitting open-mouthed on the sofa and went outside to find Derek. She hadn’t heard the pickup start, so he was still hanging around. She found him in the corner of her small porch, studying a potted cactus. She hugged herself and went to stand next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched.

“You’re a saint,” he said.

Her mouth stretched into a half smile. “Comes with the territory.”

They stood next to each other, staring into the dark Nevada night for a few minutes.

“Well, I’m going to head out,” Derek said. “I’m going to need to chat with Phoebe tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

“I figured as much,” Stella replied.

Derek smiled at her before squeezing her arm and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Sweet dreams, Stella Sunshine.”

One of the tingles from their first couple months of dating sizzled up her spine.

Phoebe sat against the headboard of her bed, cozy in flannel pajamas after a long, hot shower. When she first arrived in Las Vegas and saw Stella’s dinky little trailer, she’d wrinkled her nose; the entire trailer could have fit in her bedroom back in Ohio. But tonight, she was ready to kiss its stained carpet.

Phoebe gazed around the walls of the room, plastered with concert posters and ads ripped from fashion magazines. As soon as Stella told Phoebe which room was hers, Phoebe had tacked them all up. To her credit, Stella had come in, looked around, and nodded approvingly.

“You could use a few more pictures on that wall,” she’d said. “It’s kind of empty compared to the rest of them.”

In Ohio, Phoebe’s mother forbade her from putting anything on the walls she hadn’t approved. Seeing as Phoebe and her mother had distinctly different tastes, the walls in Phoebe’s room remained a bare pale purple.

Phoebe crawled under her covers and hugged Erwin, the raggedy stuffed dog she’d had since she was four. Phoebe was incredibly grateful to be here in this bed, in this trailer, with Stella. Stella had been genuinely worried about her, and Phoebe could tell she felt really bad about not being around. As awful as it sounded, Phoebe was kind of glad. It meant Stella cared. That
someone
cared. This was the most attention anyone had paid her in a long time.

Phoebe regretted her part in keeping the distance between them by pushing Stella away. If Stella was willing to make an effort, so was she. She closed her eyes and immediately drifted off.

Finn stood brooding before Cameron Hargreaves, an FBI technician. He reached for the dog tags on his coffee table.

“You can’t wear those,” Cameron said, pushing his glasses back on his nose and sitting back on his heels. “They’ll interfere with us being able to hear.”

Finn paused and stared down at him. “I
alway
s wear my tags.”

Cameron stood and shrugged. “Not today, buddy.”

God, this FBI crap was already cramping his style and he hadn’t even met with von Rothschild yet. The sooner this was over, the better. Finn pulled his hoodie and the V-neck beneath it away from his torso and looked down at the wire taped to his chest.

“Don’t do that, or bring any other attention to your person,” Cameron said.

“My ‘person’? Are all you Feds robots?” Finn frowned and stuffed the dog tags in his pocket with his injured hand. His knuckles were still bruised and scratched. The flash of pain brought forward the memory of Stella’s lips pressed lightly against his, and the smell of strawberries.
I wonder what she’s doing right now.
Finn shook his head. He needed to focus—not think about
her
.

“How long do I have to wear this thing?” Finn asked.

“Until we have what we need. It shouldn’t be longer than a few months.” Cameron began to pack up his stuff.

Finn’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s not what I agreed to.”

Cameron shrugged again from his spot on the floor. “Sorry, dude, I’m just the tech guy.”

Finn held his arms outstretched as von Rothschild’s new right-hand man gave him a cursory pat down in the entryway of the mansion. Fortunately, the meathead was looking for weapons, not wires. Finn tried not to snicker as he thought about how much the guy resembled that actor who played Wolverine. Hugh something?

The man stood back up and regarded Finn warily.

Finn widened his stance and crossed his arms. “I’m not packing, and there’s nothing hidden up my sleeves. Are we done here?”

The man sneered at him, exposing a golden tooth. “We’re done when I say we’re done. Wait here.”

As he lumbered out of the room, Finn mused that the guy’s French accent didn’t really fit with his beefy bodyguard persona. He wove his fingers together and placed them behind his head, then spun around in a slow circle. He blew out an exasperated breath and completed the circuit, dropping his hands when he saw the figure standing before him.

“Hello, Finn,” Claudia said, standing perfectly still in a white sundress. “Long time no see.”

Without thinking, Finn brought his hand up to grab his dog tags before remembering their absence. Instead he ran a hand through his hair. “Claudia…hi.”

Claudia was the only child of Christoph and his wife Elisabeth…and Finn’s ex-girlfriend. She was definitely a daddy’s girl. Christoph adored her as much as he cherished his money—and he
really
liked his money. She, Finn, and Alex had spent the early years of their young adulthood together. She had grown up in the same circles as the Beckhams, and dated Alex briefly before entering a tumultuous two-year relationship with Finn.

Finn had last seen her when he’d broken up with her four years ago. At the time he’d wanted to focus all of his energy on the Brotherhood, and the high-maintenance Claudia was a major distraction. She had immediately moved to her family’s Parisian residence, and they hadn’t been in contact since. Over the years, Finn found himself thinking of her at times. But each time he picked up the phone, he’d hung up before dialing a single digit. And here she was, standing not ten feet in front of him.

If possible, Claudia looked even better than the last time he had seen her. She lifted her chin, not looking particularly happy to see him. “My father will see you now.”

Finn swallowed and ran a hand through his hair again. “Cool. Thanks.”
God, this is awkward.

Claudia turned on her heel and started up the spiral staircase to the second-floor landing. She didn’t bother to check if he was following. He tried not to look at her ass as they climbed the stairs, but damn, it was tough. After days of fighting his physical attraction to Stella, he was ready to open his little black book, close his eyes, and choose a name at random.

Shit, don’t think about Stella! Why’d she have to go and kiss me?

Claudia stood in front of the tall oak double doors that led to her father’s office. She opened one, gesturing for Finn to enter.

He took a deep breath, wondering what he was walking into, and stepped into von Rothschild’s office. The enormous room was filled with large, valuable antiques. Finn scanned the room and quickly appraised everything. Von Rothschild sat in a wing chair behind a 1759 Thomas Chippendale library table. The guy who had frisked Finn stood next to the table with his hands clasped.

“Take a seat,” von Rothschild said with a wide smile.

Finn sat in one of the Tudor-style backless chairs in front of the library table. He nodded at the table. “That’s a nice piece.”

“I think so too,” von Rothschild said drily. “But we’re not here to talk about my desk.” He leaned back in his seat, staring steadily at Finn.

Finn knew the man was purposely trying to discomfit him. Just like he had when Finn had dated his daughter. And it was working, just like it had then.