Shadow Hawk (6 page)

Under normal circumstances, Hawk might have simply turned up the charm and tried to figure out where he'd taken a wrong step, but Tibbs had warned him way back on her first day to leave her alone. And he had.

Now he was extremely sorry he hadn't cultivated more of a friendship with her regardless because he sure as hell could use her on his side at the moment. Big time.

“Abby, you have to listen to me.” Grabbing her shoulders, he backed her to a tree and peered into her face. “You're in danger. We're both in danger. I need you to—”

“Uncuff me.”

At the tension in her voice, he eased back. Normally she avoided him like the plague, but she did so with an indifferent disdain that was designed to turn him off, even though for some sick reason it always had the opposite effect.

But there was no disdain now. No, she had a look in those kill-me-slowly baby blues that spelled complete and abject terror.

She really believed him to be the bad guy.

Unbelievable
. “Hey. Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, I only need to—”

“Let me go, Hawk.”

Her fear cut through him and broke his heart. “I can't do that.”

“Let. Me.
Go
.”

“I hear you, believe me,” he said with real regret, protecting her with his body when a blast of wind brought hot ashes drifting down on them. “But I can't do it, I'm sorry.”

“Won't, you mean.”

“Okay, yeah. Won't. Not until you listen to me.”

She glared at him with so much emotion spitting from her eyes, he nearly did as she asked and let go of her. Usually put together, she now had dirt streaked down a cheek and along her jaw, and her shirt was torn. So were her pants, from knees to thigh, exposing one of her world-class legs and the scratches she'd sustained.

She looked like a wreck. A furious, undone, adorable wreck. And he wanted to kiss her again. God, he'd give a limb to do just that.

Scratch that.

He just wanted to hold her. Hold her tight until she was safe, and no longer scared.

Yeah, explain
that
.

“You're a wanted man,” she said. “It changes everything, Hawk.”

“Wanted for what, exactly?”

“For turning rogue!” Abby arched up with each word, bumping some interesting female body parts into many of his favorite parts. “For running the Kiddie Bombers! For shooting Gaines! Pick one!”

“I would, except for one thing. I am not running the Kiddie Bombers.”

“But I saw you shoot him.” Her voice quavered though her eyes did not. Nope, they were cemented to his, shiny with emotion and a self-righteousness, which normally made him want to wrestle her down and mess up her hair and wrinkle her clothes.

But she was already ruffled, which was just as well because he couldn't summon even a shred of playfulness or his legendary calm, not with his heart lodged in his throat. “You have to trust me,” he said quietly.

She stared at him, then slowly shook her head.

Fine.
Christ.
Hawk was not a man used to explaining himself, but he gave it a go now, he had to. “Okay, I shot him, yes.”

“Oh, my God.”

“But it was in self-defense. This was all a crazy setup. Gaines has been running the Kiddie Bombers. He's been re-selling the confiscated weapons, putting them back on the streets, probably at a pretty profit. But I got too close, and now I've become a problem to him. He decided to lay the blame on me and then fake his death.”

She stared at him like he'd lost it, and truthfully—he had. He totally had. “He's still very much alive, Abby. I didn't kill him, I swear it.”

He didn't realize how much he needed her to believe him until she stared up at his face, her heart in her eyes.

“I know,” she whispered. “He can't be dead because he called me.”

“He
what?
”

“He wanted to tell me you were the bad guy.” She stared down at the handcuff linking them.

“I'm not,” he promised. “But he's feeling closed in by all the loose ends now.” He touched her face. “You're a loose end, Ab. You're in danger. He means for me to die here tonight, and now, I think he means the same for you. Please, let's not let him win.”

Abby swept her gaze down the length of him, and he knew what she saw. Blood. His. Gaines's. “I swear it,” he whispered. “I won't hurt you.”

“Then uncuff me.”

“Do you promise to come with me, so I can keep you safe?”

“I'm not ready to promise you anything.”

This evening was not going his way. “Where's Logan?”

“He was air-lifted out.”

That stopped Hawk cold. “What? What happened?”

“He fell from the barn roof.”

Christ.
“Listen to me,” he said, gripping her shoulders and giving her a little shake. “Logan didn't fall from any roof, he would never have fallen. Don't you get it? He's fucking with us, Abby, like we're toys.”

“Then come in with me, and we'll figure this all out.”

“By
in,
you mean turn myself in?”

It was all over her face, and he shook his head.

“Hawk—”

“I need to get to Logan, wherever they took him. He's in danger, too.”

“Fine. After we go back, we'll—”

“No.” He laughed harshly. “Let me save you some bullshitting time, okay? I overheard you and Watkins. If I go in, I go in charged for Gaines's murder. Even though you and I both know he's not dead.”

He watched her eyes once again lock on the blood splattered down the front of his shirt. Watched as she stepped close to set her hand on him. The warmth from her body seeped right through to his chilled flesh, and he nearly shut his eyes, but then he realized she'd slipped that hand around him, reaching for the rifle he'd swiped from her.

That settled it.

Time for Plan B. And though his muscles screamed in protest, and every inch of him hurt like hell, he pressed her back against the tree. “Don't even think about it.” Before she could find another way to kill him, he took off running, forcing her along with him.

“Hey!” Abby tugged, trying to slow him down.

“Later.” He'd talk her into believing him later. He'd have to. “We're going on the run. Together.”

W
ITH LITTLE CHOICE
, A
BBY FOUND
herself racing alongside Hawk, whose endurance showed her she'd been stupid to think she could ever win in a physical battle with him—and, given that she'd put herself in a position to be caught and handcuffed, possibly not even a battle of wits. They dodged through trees, the heat of the fire following them. Everything seemed to be engulfed. Flames flickered and hissed and snapped all around them.

She wondered if the farmhouse had caught fire as well, wondered if the others were looking for her, wondered about Elliot. “Where are you taking me?”

“To get to the bottom of this unbelievably fucked-up night.”

She tried to slow him down and came up against the restraint of the handcuffs, which reminded her. She had a panic attack scheduled for, oh, right about
now
. “I can't be handcuffed, Hawk,” she puffed. “I can't—”

“Just run.”

“See, that's the thing.” She gasped for breath. “You're just making this worse on yourself—”

“Shh.”

He stopped so fast Abby blinked. She eyed the veins in his temples working overtime. His jaw was so tight it could shatter. “Do you realize you've spoken more words to me in the past sixty seconds than in our entire relationship?”

“I need to know what's going on, Hawk. Now.”

“I told you. The Kiddie Bombers have been run by an inside mole all along. Gaines. And I've apparently gotten too close. He's got no choice now but to stop me. And Logan. And you, Abby.”

The situation was impossible, not real, and yet…

And yet his words reminded her that over a year ago, she'd also been suspicious about how the group seemed to know the ATF's every step. Then she'd been kidnapped, and had ended up being distracted by the events of that whole nightmare night, and then her rescue and leave of absence.

“Come on,” Hawk urged. “He's not working alone, there are others. We have to get out of here.”

The next thing she knew they were running again, through the trees, far from the fire, from the scene. “Hawk.”

Ignoring her, he just kept pulling her along, and when she dragged her feet, he simply entwined his fingers in hers and tugged harder.

“Stop.” Accompanying this demand, she dug her heels into the ground, but it was frozen and slippery, and all she did was trip.

“Jesus.” The hands he put on her waist felt strong and very capable as he steadied her. She'd set something off in him, and if she wasn't mistaken, it was concern, not anger. “Don't be stupid.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you, Hawk. Except back to the others. Now uncuff me.” She nearly choked on her next word but spit it out anyway.
“Please.”

Hearing the crack in her voice, he grimaced, and so did she.
Oh, God. Don't be pathetic, Abby. Keep it together.

“We both know what will happen to me if we go back,” he said. “I'm being set up, Abby. And by the time the red tape gets untangled, it'll be too late. Gaines will be gone.”

“Gone? Where?”

“Who knows. Some uncharted South Pacific island. But not before he makes us pay.”

“You're wrong.” Her chest felt tight. God, who to believe? “He wouldn't hurt me.”

He let out a frustrated breath and gave her a little shake. “Why are you so loyal to him? What does he have over you?”

He'd saved her, and she'd never be able to forget that. “I owe him…everything.”

Hawk stared at her for a long moment, opened his mouth, then closed it. “This is crazy, you know that? Gaines is after us, I swear it.”

“And your proof of all this is…?”

Behind them came the sound of a man's shout.

“Shit. Run,” he commanded.

“Hawk—”

He pulled her along. “My gut is screaming,” he told her over his shoulder. “And my gut is never, ever wrong.”

“But—”

“Jesus. Can't you just trust me?”

“No!” She was panting for air. “Because you're basing all this on your gut. That's not enough.”

“Yes, I—” He took one glance at her undoubtedly mutinous expression and shook his head. “Ah, forget it.” Ruthlessly he continued to pull her along, on a path only he knew.

So much was wrong, Abby couldn't even wrap her mind around the facts, or her feet, apparently, because she tripped again. She'd have landed flat on her face, too, if Hawk hadn't grabbed her at the cost of his own balance, and then they were falling anyway, hitting the cold ground. As luck would have it, her chin bounced off a patch of snow instead of dirt, which she supposed she should appreciate.

“Shit.” Hawk was on all fours, head down, breathing hard.
“Shit!”

“Yeah, you've already said that.”

Turning his head, he leveled her with an extremely unamused glare. “If you could keep in mind we're attached.”

“If you could keep in mind that you're kidnapping me!”

“I'm
protecting
you!”

“Then uncuff me.” She was breathing as if they'd been running miles, instead of a quarter mile, tops, but she needed to be uncuffed.
Now.
“You don't need me,” she gasped. “Just uncuff me and go do what you've got to do.”

“You have to stay with me. Or—”

“Or what? Or I'll be safe?”

“Damn it, I told you,
I'm
keeping you safe!”

“Let me go.” She heard the panic in her voice but couldn't help it. “I'm…I'm begging you, Hawk.”

He closed his eyes. “Abby…” His voice was hoarse. “I have to do this. If something happens to you, I won't be able to live with myself.”

“Nothing's going to happen to me—”

“Right, because I'm going to make sure of it. Besides, I know you. If I let you go, you'll go digging—”

“No.” He didn't know her. He didn't know, for example, that she was an inch from meltdown. Or that she could scarcely breathe because of it. Or that she didn't understand any of this, not the way she'd broken protocol and left the van in the first place to run after him when she'd thought him in danger, not the way she'd let him kiss her for a good long time before she'd kneed him…

And now she was handcuffed to him, the man she'd been so secretly attracted to. Gee, what great taste she had. Clearly there was something seriously wrong with her. “So you want me to believe that this is for
my
protection?”

“Yes,” he said, clearly relieved that she got it.

But all she got was that he was unbelievable. “What an overprotective, egomaniacal, stupid thing to do! I can protect myself, Hawk. My God, I'm a trained agent, too!”

He was already shaking his head, his eyes flat and stubborn. “No. You didn't see him tonight. You didn't see his eyes.” He turned from her and studied the night. “He's lost it. Completely.”

Abby tried to see whatever he was looking at, but she couldn't see a thing. She had no idea how he decided which way to go, but suddenly they were moving through the woods again. As they moved, she eyed his pockets, wondering which one held the key for the cuffs.

Because she was going to get free.

The wind continued to whip at them, cutting bites that nipped at her skin. The smoke was still thick, choking her. When she started coughing, Hawk stopped and waited for her to catch her breath.

A thoughtful captor. Too bad she still wanted to kill him.

He wasn't looking at her now, but was taking in their surroundings, an awareness about him, a physical readiness. He was primed and ready for more trouble, but then he turned to her, and his eyes changed. Softened. He pulled something from her hair. And something else. Twigs, she imagined. Pine needles.

Then he touched her face.

She jerked back at the uncomfortable, unfortunately familiar, claustrophobic feeling of someone being too close. “Don't.”

Don't touch me.

It was too dark to see his expression clearly, but he went still for a charged moment, then stepped back as far as he could, considering they were still linked. “I told you, I'm not going to hurt you.”

But that wasn't the promise she wanted. “So let me go.”

Instead, he turned away. “Let's go. Almost there.” And they were running again.

From the depths of her pocket, Abby felt her cell phone vibrate. Incoming text message. She glanced at Hawk. He was slightly ahead of her, watching where they were going. That, and the dark night allowed her to pull out her cell without his seeing. She flicked aside the mini credit card attached to the small chain on the antennae in order to see the screen. Watkins. Where are you?

She hit Reply, then hesitated because there was the little issue of trust. She had no idea who to believe. Abby shook her head.
No.
That didn't matter right now, all that mattered was getting free. She hit Send, and off the blank message went. As an SOS. It would have to do.

They came to a clearing that she recognized. They'd gone in one big circle, eastbound, putting them just south of the farmhouse…. She looked around but saw nothing with which to help herself. The woods were thick, black as the inside of Hawk's heart, but still not as scary as, say, being handcuffed to him.

Damn
, she wished she had her rifle back. She'd get that, too, along with the key. She was determined.

And terrified.

She tried to keep the panic at bay. After all, tonight was nothing, nothing at all, like her nightmare.

The nightmare that had really happened.

First of all, it'd been daytime, at a gun specialty shop where it'd been suspected the Kiddie Bombers were selling confiscated weapons out of the back. She'd been on duty the day of the raid. In hindsight, it had been just rotten luck. Not so agreeable to the raid, the men had fought back as if they'd known the ATF were coming. Abby had been taken hostage and held in a basement, a cold, dark, dank place that even now, a year later, she could still smell in her dreams.

“I thought you were hurt,” she said bitterly to Hawk's back, forced to keep her feet moving or get dragged along.

“Just stunned.”

“From?”

“Taking a bullet to the chest.” Slowing to a walk, he grabbed her free hand and pressed it up against his vest, over his heart, forcing her to feel the hole in his vest.

A bullet indentation. “He shot you when you pulled your gun on him?”

“No. He shot me point-blank.”

“He must have known you were wearing a vest. Why didn't he shoot you where he'd have had a chance at killing you?”

“He tried. But it was dark, and I rolled. Then I pulled a gun on him.”

“That's not what I saw.”

“Sweetheart, I am not trying to argue with you here, but maybe you should get your eyes checked.”

“You're saying Elliot drew on you first?”

“Elliot?” Hawk asked, and stopped so unexpectedly that she plowed into the back of him. “You call him Elliot?”

“It's his name.”

“Sounds pretty chummy.”

Yes, well, after he'd busted into that basement, guns drawn, to find her stripped naked and staring down the thugs who'd just pulled out a set of jumper cables to torture her with, they were definitely on a first-name basis. “We have a…history.”

Hawk just stared at her, his eyes gleaming in the night. Clearly this news had not made his day. “So, you were what, fucking the boss while he was stealing back the confiscated stolen weapons to re-sell them on the black market?”

“You really are an asshole.”

“Just calling it like I see it.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“No? Then enlighten me.”

Abby pressed the fingers of her free hand to her eyes and tried to keep a level head. “Why? Why would he do such things, Hawk?”

“Well, connecting the dots, I'd hazard a guess that it's because he's the bad guy.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned away.

He sighed and pulled her back. “You want me to believe that lover boy never mentioned any of this when you two were doing the tangle on his sheets?”

Staring up at him, she slowly shook her head, feeling frustration and anger push aside her fear. Good, because she'd sure as hell rather be pissed off than afraid. “You are way out of line, Hawk.”

“Yeah? Then put me in line.” He stood there, his eyes searching hers, not mocking now, just wanting the truth.

But she didn't have the words. “Just tell me what you think we're supposed to do now.”