“I don’t like this plan.”

“You’ve made that clear,” Maddie said as she rubbed her hand over his chest. He doubted she realized she was touching him as they hid there, waiting. But he knew. When this was over…

He couldn’t think of that now. Now he had to keep her safe. The thought of her hurt—or worse—knocked the breath out of him.

He admired her spunk and determination. He couldn’t imagine living half a life under the constant threat of death and the watchful eye of the government. Knowing that a criminal sat in a cell somewhere plotting against her made Adam want to issue a threat of his own.

His gaze went to her mouth, slipping down her long neck then back to those lips. He was going to kiss her. In the middle of a sting, with his men a short distance away. It had been building for days. Weeks. He’d dreamed about the smoothness of her skin and how it would feel to wrap her legs around his waist. Now he would live it.

He lowered his head and as he did, he heard the dreadful words in his earpiece. “He’s coming.”

Locked and Loaded
HelenKay Dimon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author HelenKay Dimon spent twelve years in the most unromantic career ever—divorce lawyer. After dedicating all that effort to helping people terminate relationships, she is thrilled to deal in happy endings and write romance novels for a living. Now her days are filled with gardening, writing, reading and spending time with her family in and around San Diego. HelenKay loves hearing from readers, so stop by her website at www.helenkaydimon.com and say hello.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Adam Wright —This Recovery Project agent is stuck miles from home, babysitting a woman who is desperate to ignore him. He spends his days hovering over a computer and watching Maddie from afar…and his nights figuring out how to get a lot closer.

Maddie Timmons —She is a tough woman in an impossible spot. She paid for a bad relationship in the past with a broken back, a criminal investigation and a new identity thanks to the Witness Security Program. Now she needs help and that handsome computer hottie next door might be the answer.

Trevor Walters —A guarded, powerful and respected businessman. He’s made an informal agreement with the Recovery Project that might protect him, but he has other secrets…ones that could get them all killed.

Rod Lehman —The man who assembled the Recovery Project team. His off-the-books investigation into missing women in the Witness Security Program puts all the Recovery agents in danger.

John Tate —As the government administrator who decides who gets into witness protection he wields a tremendous amount of power. What he uses it for is the question.

Vince Ritter —He stays on the fringes of the Recovery Project, providing information and offering help. The problem is telling which side he’s actually on.

Luke Hathaway —The interim head of the Recovery Project. He has the unenviable job of making everything work. When he adds “keeping Maddie alive” to his list of tasks, he fears he’s made Adam and the entire team targets.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

Maddie Timmons turned over in bed for what felt like the fiftieth time. It had to be past two by now, but she refused to look at the clock and check. Not again.

The room had plunged into darkness hours ago when the sun ducked behind the mountains outlining the side of her cabin. The cool late-spring air couldn’t penetrate the thick windows near her head. She knew because she’d installed the laminated safety glass herself and then made sure the potential entrances stayed locked at all times. A security alarm took care of the rest.

She kicked off the covers and stared at the ceiling. Despite all the precautions, something made her restless. She couldn’t pinpoint a reason. She just knew her insides kept jumping around, pressing down on her chest and forcing her eyes open every time they tried to drift shut.

The unease had crept up on her that afternoon while she’d worked the lunch rush at the diner, doing the baking and serving the meals. Though in Sweet Home, West Virginia, the weekday “rush” usually meant about thirty people over the span of three hours.

She sat up and felt the mattress dip beneath her. Just as her feet hit the hardwood floor, the banging started on her front door. She heard the thud and the faint sound of a male voice calling her name.

The late hour. The frantic attempt to wake her. It all struck her as wrong.

Every nerve ending in her body screamed for her to run. Her cottage was blocked from the neighbor’s by towering trees, and the dark night would give her attackers the advantage. And she could not risk getting caught. Ever.

She slid her feet into the white sneakers that always sat by her bed. The knife she kept under her pillow slipped neatly into the waistband of her pajama shorts. She had to grab her bag and take off.

That was the plan. Get to safety and then call the number she’d memorized for a situation just like this. The same emergency she’d hoped would never arrive.

She crept across the floor and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her packed safety bag. She listened closely for any sounds of house penetration. Relief flowed through her when only quiet echoed back.

She rounded the corner and headed for the small secret opening to the space under the house. From there she could see the property and listen for footsteps. Then it was just a practiced run to safety.

“Maddie?”

She froze. The husky whisper sounded louder and deeper than before. And totally familiar.

She eased the duffel back to the floor in total silence. The mandatory escape plan ran through her mind, but she ignored it. Instead, she walked down the short hall that led to the family room. The cabin consisted of exactly two rooms plus a kitchen and bath. No matter how careful she was, how shadowed the rooms, she would come into view from one of the windows in two more steps.

“Maddie?” The knocking grew louder and showed no signs of stopping.

Her brain pleaded for caution. Every other part of her wanted to open the door.

With quiet steps, she crossed the smooth floor and flattened her stomach against the front door. A quick look through the peephole confirmed what she already knew. Adam Wallace wanted in.

She hesitated, thinking of all the ways this could be a trap, but reached for the locks anyway. Metal rattled in her shaking fingers as she rushed to get the door open.

He stood there, all six foot three of him. Sandy-blond hair, thin wire glasses and shoulders wider than the door frame. He was her next-door neighbor. The chatty, sexy computer nerd with the linebacker body who moved in and insisted they be friends, all while she dodged every attempt.

She grabbed the side of the door and carefully blocked his way into the house, knowing he could power through if he really wanted to.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“That’s my question.”

She had never seen him do this frantic-whisper thing. Sure, they’d only known each other a month, but he’d been so even-keeled all that time. “Adam, I don’t—”

He pushed the frames up on his nose. “I heard a noise.”

The implication of that statement hit her full force. Blood pounded in her ears. “What? Where?”

“I was watching a movie and thought I heard something crash over here. I came to make sure you were okay.”

As quickly as the adrenaline flooded her senses it receded again. No need to panic—yet. This likely was about a guy being lonely and nothing more. Why someone his age would choose to live out here, all alone, was a constant mystery. That question made her wary of him, just as she was wary of everyone else. She had to be.

But she did wonder how a man who towered over her and possessed those impressive arm muscles could look so sweet and comfortably disheveled at all times. Probably had something to do with the dimple in his cheek.

But he wasn’t smiling now. Energy thrummed off him as he glanced all around, barely looking at her.

“So, are you okay?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He finally focused his attention on her. The power of those grass-green eyes almost knocked her flat. Intelligence lingered there…and something else. Something she couldn’t pin down. His size signaled danger but his easygoing manner made her think geek. The guy was an enigma.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“No.” The answer was automatic. Forget her curiosity and the hint of attraction. The response was the right one.

“Excuse me?”

Her grip tightened on the door. “It’s late.”

The frenzied moments faded as his eyebrow inched up. “I came over to make sure nothing had happened to you.”

“And I’m fine, so we’re good.” She couldn’t let him in—physically or emotionally. If he’d truly heard something, if danger lingered in the woods surrounding her unwanted adopted home, then she had to run. Dragging a computer nerd with her would only slow her down. And the rules were clear: travel alone and light.

“Okay.” He wiped a hand through his thick hair. With one last look behind him, he leaned in, sending warm air across her cheek. “If you need me, yell.”

“I’m—”

“Fine. Yeah, I know. You said that already. Many times.” He blew out a long breath. “Just promise me.”

Gone was the harmless cutie who’d caught her eye and kept it by coming into the diner every afternoon while she was on duty. He ordered pie and coffee and tipped her twice the bill. He never varied the scene…or he hadn’t until today. He’d always smiled and laughed, flirted and then left with a “well, I tried” mumble when she made it clear those efforts were going to waste.

That was then. Now his jaw clenched and his mouth flattened. The dimple disappeared the second she turned him down.

“Maddie?”

“I promise I’ll scream if I need you.” It was a little lie, so she didn’t feel any guilt in telling it.

“Okay.” He shifted but didn’t leave. “I’ll be close by.”

Sounded like a threat to her, so she shut the door in his face before he could say anything else. The locks clicked under her fingers as she studied him through the peephole and saw he continued to stand on her front porch.

He paced around as if fighting some internal battle. It took another few minutes for him to jog down the steps and head for his house.

The thudding of her heart took longer to slow. For the first time since he introduced himself, he scared her. Sent her mind racing in a hundred different directions at once. And this wasn’t the first time today. He’d lingered at the diner this afternoon, being more flirty than usual. He’d acted as if…

A smile spread across her lips before she could fight it off. Now that she ran down the clues it all made sense. This wasn’t about noises or concerns for her safety. The man was looking for a temporary bed partner.

She had to take responsibility for that. She’d given in and sat down in the booth with him for a few minutes today. For once, she’d returned the harmless flirting. That sweet smile of his had done it. His mouth had kicked up and she’d turned to mush. She’d always preferred bad boys—and look where that got her. Giving a hunky nerd some attention had felt right for a change.

Adam was more than two hundred pounds of sweet temptation, but the seduction stuff had to end. She couldn’t afford ties and refused to trust anyone who just popped into her life out of thin air. Starting tomorrow, she’d build the wall back up between them and hit him with a flashing stop sign until he turned his attention somewhere else.

She felt a kick in her gut at the thought of him finding someone else to joke with, and the feeling had nothing to do with fear. It was more like regret. The same emotion she’d lived with her entire adult life. But she’d survived it before and she would figure out a way to handle it this time, too.

ADAM WRIGHT BRACED his back against the side of Maddie’s house and listened. It was about three-thirty in the morning and he’d been waiting under her window for more than an hour. He’d tried to get into the room the logical way—through the front door and with an invitation—but Maddie was having none of it. Not that Maddie was her real name. Of course, Wallace wasn’t his, either.

The Recovery Project, the now-private investigation firm he worked for, had been tracking her for months. They found missing people and Maddie was more than missing. She was supposed to be dead. If he didn’t work fast, she would be.

According to their intel, the attackers would come tonight. Adam had seen the men roll into town earlier that evening, obviously out of place in their suits and black sedan. Fitting in around this part of West Virginia required a dependable pickup and jeans. Adam knew because he had been working the fake identity for more than a month. He’d abandoned the contacts in favor of glasses, temporarily traded his condo in D.C. for a one-bedroom cabin in the middle of nowhere.

People in town knew him as the guy who did computer work. In reality, he was a deep undercover. A former government agent on a mission to find his missing boss and figure out what role Maddie played in the corruption within the Witness Security Program, WitSec. For now he would treat her as a potential victim and then make sure the “potential” never turned into a reality.

At a crouch, he walked around the back of the house and along the opposite side. The sensor lights she’d installed didn’t click on because he’d disabled them. He’d spent a day wandering around in the dark, figuring out how to trigger her alarm and then another day learning how to get around it.

He used that knowledge now. He slipped a small metal box out of his pocket and held it to the wall next to the back door. The handheld computer lit up as it wirelessly hooked into her alarm and turned it off. The plastic key in his front pocket got him the rest of the way into her house.

The place was small and deadly dark. Not even the air moved. For a second he worried he’d waited too long, that she was already gone, but that wasn’t possible. He’d been watching, just hoping someone would make a move on her so he could react.

The boredom of behind-the-desk surveillance was killing him slowly. A man could only eat so much diner pie before his gut messed up his shot. He enjoyed that part of his cover, but he couldn’t afford to get soft. Or stupid.

But the days of lying around, watching out his window and checking in with his fellow Recovery Project agents long-distance were over. No more waiting. He was going to grab her and get her out of there.

Since all the cabins had been built long ago as temporary residences for forest service employees, the layout of this one mirrored his own. In a few steps he stopped at her bedroom door. When he didn’t hear screaming or anything else, he turned the knob.

Without any sound, he stepped across the threshold, his eyes focusing on the rumpled bed. The empty bed.

Yelling and aiming a lamp for his skull, she launched her attack. She flew at him from the left side. She was all over him, scratching and kicking, screaming threats and promises of pain. She jumped on his back as her fists pounded against his shoulders.

The base of the lamp glanced off his upper back. The spot went numb, but he couldn’t take a second to check it. He doubled over to throw her off balance. As her feet left the floor, his hands caught hers. He tried to fend off the blows without hurting her. He would if he had to. Hell, he’d knock her out if it came to that. He just hoped it didn’t.

“Maddie, stop,” he hissed at her.

“Get out!” Her hands smacked against the side of his head. She fought as though death was at her heels. “Now!”

He spun her around and grabbed her from behind, locking her arms to her sides. The trapped position didn’t stop her thrashing. She shifted and wiggled and made it nearly impossible to hold her still.

Someone had taught her to fight dirty. If Adam weren’t so busy getting knocked around, he might have admired her effort. But he didn’t have time for that now.

He grumbled in her ear. “They’ll hear you.”

The fighting ended as her body went still, as if the life was sucked right out of her. “What?”

“They’re here.”

Tension radiated off every muscle. “Who?”

“The two men making their way through the woods to get to you.” He thought about easing up on his vise-like grip but decided against it. This lady was no slacker. She would throw him through the window if she got the chance. “I have to get you out of here.”

She looked over her shoulder, her sky-blue eyes wild. “You’re a computer geek.”

He ignored the slam since he’d heard it all the time. Hitting the gym every day didn’t stop the perception. “You’ve been compromised. Your WitSec handler was dirty. He sold you out.”

As fast as her anger rose, her face went blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yeah, that was the party line. Denial. Adam got it, even understood the reason for the web of secrecy, but it worked against them right now. Pretending ignorance could get them killed.

“We don’t have time for this.” He lifted her off her feet and dragged her through the house toward the front door, which wasn’t easy since she’d turned to dead weight in his arms.

“You can’t—”

“Stop talking.” At her openmouthed stare, he softened his tone. “If they didn’t hear all that screaming, we might still have a chance to get away.” Something in his words kicked up a second round of attack. As they walked, she put her feet out, balancing them on either side of the doorway and bringing them to a shuddering stop.

“Maddie, you have to—”

“Let me go.” This time her voice stayed at the level of a harsh whisper.

He watched the green lights streak through the woods. “The men are here. We’re out of time.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Holding both her hands in one of his, he pointed into the darkness and didn’t let up until her gaze followed his direction. “See those lights? They’re coming for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

He ignored her denials. “Right now, in the middle of the woods. They found you and will not stop until they get you.”

She shook her head, sending her deep auburn hair over her shoulders. “It can’t be.”

“This isn’t a friendly visit. They are here to kill you.” Adam didn’t bother prettying up the details. He needed her to understand before they both ended up dead in shallow graves. “I’ll explain it all, but later.”

A tremor shook through her. “You did this.”

“No.” He regained his double-fisted hold before she wrenched an arm loose and started hitting him again. “I’m here to save you.”

She stopped fidgeting. “How?”

“We run.”

Chapter Two

He knew she was in witness protection. No one should know. No one could know, not if she wanted to live.

Maddie inhaled, trying to slow her frantic heartbeat and come up with a plan. She focused on her training, on all the drills she’d run since she’d landed in the tiny town and slipped under the chilly blanket of anonymity.

Every brain cell screamed at her to take Adam down and run as fast as she could and not stop until she cleared the West Virginia line. She could handle the racing part. The question was how to win a battle against a man who outweighed her by a good seventy pounds.

At five-eight with long legs and a runner’s form, she rarely viewed her body as petite, but Adam loomed over her. Feeling small filled her with a twinge of vulnerability. She hated the sensation. It made her jumpy. Amazing how just when she thought she’d knocked all those useless emotions out of her brain, one came roaring back to crush her.

But she beat the insecurities back. Right now she needed all her control and concentration. “I know the way.”

He didn’t ease his grip on her arms. “Yeah, it’s called a back door.”

“Too obvious.”

“I’m listening.”

She ignored the tickle of his hot breath against her neck. “There’s a secret exit.”

“Show me.”

When he didn’t ask why she would have such a thing, or even flinch at the idea, she knew Adam Wallace—or whoever he really was—was not a simple computer programmer. His wrestling moves said mercenary. His knowledge of the most private part of her life made him downright dangerous.

So did being trapped in a small cabin with him. Attackers or not, she had to get outside. She’d get around them and then the next wave and anyone else who was tracking her down. That’s what her life had become—one long run to nowhere.

Open space was her only chance. That meant giving away the location of her escape hatch. Not that she’d need it now. With her cover blown, she’d be shuffled to a new state with a new identity. From there on she’d pull her life in tighter around her so as not to risk a night like tonight.

But she had to live through this mess first.

She tried to swivel around but couldn’t move. “You have to let go of me.”

“Not going to happen.”

“If we’re just going to stand here, you better figure out how close our visitors are. I’d hate to die because you’re busy making a plan and not moving from the middle of a room.”

“Fine.” He let go of her but kept his hands right by her shoulders, as if ready to grab her again if needed. “Talk.”

Matching his caution, she turned, barely letting her feet leave the floor. His hands found her forearms and only a foot of air separated them. At this distance she saw the sweet guy who tipped big after dessert had changed into someone lethal and commanding.

“It’s in the hallway,” she said.

“What is?”

“My escape route.”

“Let’s see it.” He walked her back toward the bedroom. His gaze bounced from her face to the windows beyond.

Even if she wanted to bolt, and she sure thought about it, she couldn’t. The timing was wrong and the man was too big. He also seemed prepared for action and that gave her an odd sense of comfort in the surreal moment.

She pointed at the narrow closet. “There’s an opening behind the ironing board. Though to look at you, I have no idea how you’ll squeeze in there.”

“I’ve never had a problem getting in before, no matter how tight the fit.”

His sudden grin made her think they were talking about different things. “I bet.”

“Where does it come out?”

“About twenty feet away, behind the small shed before the tree line.”

“Open it.” He glanced over her head. “And fast. We only have minutes before the doors and windows come blowing in.”

She didn’t bother lecturing him on chivalry or issuing orders. She didn’t look behind her, either. A narrow green searchlight twice cut through the dark cabin while they stood there. She knew the men outside were getting close, had probably surrounded the house and cut off the obvious exits. Good thing she had a surprise one.

She threw open the door and with practiced efficiency removed the ironing board and fake panel behind it. The flashlight came next. She ripped it from the wall and tested it. “You ready?”

“I see you are.”

“Always.” She dropped to her knees and started crawling.

The dank air smacked her in the face as soon as she crossed the threshold. The heavy staleness stole her breath as fear raced through her mind. She couldn’t think about what lived in her makeshift safety route or what would happen if they were caught before they could get out.

Her first handler, Rod Lehman, had insisted on her having an emergency exit no matter where she lived. The workmen who thought they were laying reinforcement pipe for the sewer helped, but she did all the work in the final connection to the cabin. Building and reinforcing the tube in the dead silence of night had been quite an undertaking.

Once completed, she had set up an escape strategy and practiced shortening her time to the shed. One oversight was in conducting the drill in jeans. Now in her pajama shorts, the hard flooring hurt her knees and the coolness of the metal sent a chill through the rest of her.

And then there was the issue of creeping around with an unwanted partner. One who held her ankle and crowded against her the entire time.

“Could you move back and give me some room to move?” She shook her leg, trying to break his hold, but he didn’t let go.

“Keep moving.”

She did as he ordered. She sped up, trying to increase the space between their bodies and her chances of getting away. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because you don’t have a choice.”

Wrong. She’d let that be the excuse for the dead end her life had become. Well, no more.

She was done paying for her poor choices. Getting shipped from Chicago to Sweet Home, losing touch with everything and everyone she’d ever known, constituted a pretty big punishment in her mind. Her bad-boy, thrill-ride addiction was over. Likely so was her time in West Virginia.

She reached the end of the tube and grabbed for the handle of the door to pull her body up to a kneeling position. Spinning the dials, she put in the combinations and undid the series of locks. Silence filled the small area, but the tension pulsed hard enough to knock her over.

“Got it?” He reached around her and helped shove away the panel.

The tight space turned claustrophobic. His chest pressed against her back. His arms wrapped around her from each side, trapping her tight to his body. From his breath against her hair, to his knees wedging her feet against the outside walls of the space, she was surrounded. Imprisoned and unable to launch her desperate plan.

Fingers fumbling, she helped Adam unseal the last of the opening. The black night and cool reviving air greeted them. A ceiling of stars peeked through the thick walls of trees. She heard chirping and the rustle of branches in the wind.

“Looks clear.” The words were almost soundless by her ear. “Climb out nice and slow until we’re sure.”

Her brain started a countdown. It ended when Adam grabbed a fistful of her shirt and held her in place.

“Don’t even think about running.” He guided her out and jumped to his feet before she could gain her balance. “I’m your best shot at staying alive.”

If he was trying to make her feel better, he missed the mark by a good two miles. “They have the guns.”

“They’re not alone.” He slipped one hand under her elbow and kept the other on the weapon that appeared in his hand as if by some demented magic trick.

“I thought you were one of the good guys.”

“Why do you think I’m not?”

“The gun.”

“You want a rescuer with a weapon. Trust me.”

She didn’t want a rescuer at all. “I’d prefer to get out of here.”

“That’s next.” Adam pressed her back against the shed and slid his body against hers.

Pinned to a wall with his hard chest at her front, she couldn’t move. His stance wasn’t sexual or even over-bearing. It was more protective than anything.

For the first time since he walked into the diner, he struck her as a man accustomed to giving orders and having them followed. The type of guy who rushed in to help when others ran away to safety. The exact opposite of a shy computer nerd.

The gun passed in front of her face for a second then was gone. He had one of her hands in his and her other was trapped against his broad chest. He wasn’t looking at her, but she couldn’t help looking at him. She wondered how she’d ever viewed him as harmless. Seeing him in action now, gun up and attitude firmly in place, she could smell the power on him. It mixed with the cool mint scent of his breath.

She swallowed, trying to block out everything but the slamming of her heart and the plan forming in her head. “Well?”

He shook his head. “I don’t see them.”

“What does that mean?”

“They could have breached the inside.” He stepped back and brought her with him. They walked around the side of the shed until her cabin sat to their left and his stood at a fifty-yard dead run in front of them. “We’re not going to wait to find out. We have to circle around my cabin and get to my car.”

“Why not use mine?”

“They’d probably recognize it. Might have tampered with it.”

His points made sense. Very logical, just a bit too informed for the man he was supposed to be.

But standing there was the wrong call, in her view. “Let’s run while we can.”

She had shifted only enough to get an unobstructed view of her house, when the snapping of a twig registered in her brain. A green light sliced across her yard to land on her stomach. Shock stopped her steps.

“Get down!”

Adam’s voice barely registered. She saw his eyes widen and his mouth open on a shout. Everything else moved in slow motion. A figured appeared in front of her, clad all in black and aiming a weapon right at her head. She tried to see his face, but a helmet and mask covered him.

Her brain clicked to life just as a huge weight knocked into her from behind. Her knees buckled and the ground inched closer. Arms wrapped around her chest, banding and confining her, half cushioning her fall and half pushing her deeper into the dirt.

The thud and bounce against the hard earth pushed a grunt up her throat as her bones rattled. Every muscle screamed in agony from the force of the fall.

Her legs wrapped around something and kept her locked in a deadman’s position. The shove could have taken five seconds or five days. She couldn’t tell. Time slowed until the whoosh of the air around her became a moaning call.

That fast the weight lifted. One minute she saw the attacker stalking toward her, the next her face pressed into Adam’s back. Flat on her stomach with leaves scratching her cheek, she found her body shielded by Adam as soft pings echoed around her. His body kicked back against her as he fired his weapon.

She lifted her head in time to see the commando at her back door drop to his knees then fall face-first down the short steps. He hit the bush she’d always hated and meant to remove. Another man lay off to her right, facedown. She hadn’t even seen that one coming.

Then the world stopped tilting. She dared to hope they were safe. “Is it over?”

“Not for you.” The stranger’s voice came from behind her.

Before she could turn around, a beefy hand grabbed her arm and yanked her hard to her feet. Her muscles seemed to tear as if she were made of paper. Blinding pain shot up to her shoulder and pounded there.

The pressure of the attacker’s hand on her elbow made her vision blur. Nausea rolled over her, but she bit it back. She wanted to reach up and slap the man’s gun away. It hovered right in front of her face, pointed at the dead center of Adam’s chest.

Adam stood now, facing down the remaining gunman with his own weapon drawn. It was a standoff and suddenly it hurt just to stay on her feet.

“Let her go.” Adam’s voice dipped to a gravelly octave she’d never heard before.

A dark covering hid the gunman’s face, but she could see the white teeth in his feral smile. “You messed up. You only counted two.”

Adam’s gaze never wavered. He stared the attacker down, looking every bit as terrifying as the man in battle gear. “I’m guessing there were three of you.”

“Lower your weapon or I’ll kill her.”

“No.”

The pain took her breath away as the dizziness assaulted her brain. “Adam—”

The attacker chuckled in a deep grumble that promised an unending nightmare of anguish. “Listen to her panic. Now imagine what I’ll do to her before she dies.”

“You need her alive.”

“We’re not negotiating.”

She tried to focus on Adam, to send him a silent message that she was about to drop. But every time she blinked he shifted. It was subtle and the move so slight, but he now stood off to the left instead of directly in front of her.

And he kept talking. “That’s the plan, right? You need to take her back to your boss.”

“You don’t have to worry about it since you’ll be dead.”

Adam shook his head, then shot the attacker a patronizing grin. “No.”

She felt the gunman jerk. “What?”

Adam’s smile grew wider. “Your turn.”

“What are you—” With the gun blast the question turned to a gurgle. Blood spurted out of the man’s neck as his hands dropped and his body fell right after.

Shock and disgust knocked her speechless. Not that this was her first body or even her first bloodbath. No, she’d earned her ticket into witness protection the hard way, through the deaths of others. Still, she stood there held together by nothing more than a bit of adrenaline and watched the red puddle inch closer to her once white sneakers.

Adam reached out but didn’t touch her. “Maddie?”

“You could have killed me by accident.”

“I’ve got good aim.” Adam glanced around. “I think we’re clear here.”

Anger flooded through her and exploded, spewing with enough strength to break her. She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming him deaf. “You are supposed to be a computer guy.”

“Sometimes I am.”

His shrug just made her more furious. “What are you the rest of the time?”

“An agent with the Recovery Project.”

“What the heck is that?”

“I work for Rod Lehman.”

Just like that her anger evaporated. Melted right out of her. “Rod?”

“There are three things you need to know right now. Ready?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Rod’s missing. You’re in trouble. We have to go.”

The pieces floated around in her mind, but she couldn’t put them together. “I don’t—”

“But first I have to fix your shoulder.” Adam tucked his gun in his waistband. “This is going to hurt.”

“What is?”

Before she could pull back or process what he planned to do, he bent her elbow at a ninety-degree angle then rotated her arm to the left then right. Each movement shot red-hot pain through her body. She cried out for him to stop as tears filled her eyes. When she couldn’t take one more turn, something popped in her shoulder and the ruthless agony stopped.

She tried to catch her breath, but she could only pant and glare as she rubbed the spreading soreness. “What was that?”

“I fixed your dislocated shoulder.”

She thought about strangling him with her good arm. “You killed two men—”

“Three.”

She shifted to her right and glanced around him. The third body lay just feet away from the spot where Adam had curled up around her on the ground.

She stared at him again. “Were you shot?”

He looked offended by the question. “Of course not.”

Massaging her injured shoulder made it throb even harder, so she stopped. “Right. How silly of me.”

“And it’s Wright.”

She looked him over for signs of blood, wondering how a guy could take out three obviously trained killers and not suffer anything more than a wrinkled shirt. “Do you have a head injury or something?”

“The name is Adam Wright, not Wallace.”

That little tidbit ticked her off. “And I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“Yes.”

Her fury was ridiculous. She knew that. She lived under an assumed name with a life she never wanted and certainly didn’t earn. She had no right to judge him. But now she understood she couldn’t trust him and that ticked her off. He’d taken out a trio of guys with guns, but she still didn’t know who was on what side.

And she could not depend on him to be honest. The only thing that saved him from a knee to the groin was the way he threw out Rod’s name.

“Is anything about you real?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Chapter Three

Luke Hathaway stepped up to the conference room table of the newly rebuilt Recovery Project headquarters. From the outside, the place looked like nothing more than an abandoned beige warehouse near the southwest Washington, D.C., waterfront. Inside was a different story.

Monitors and enough flashy electronic machinery to make even the most hardened technogeek smile lined one wall. Adam had set up the surveillance part of the office, using the unwanted inheritance of Luke’s wife, Claire, to fund the construction.

Stairs ran up from the middle of the large open room to the crash-pad bedroom above. The space under the stairs served as both a storage space and an informal seating area with couches and chairs.

The building stayed in lockdown and required palm prints and a secret code for access. Luke insisted on the extra security measures after a group of commandos had stormed his suburban home and left in body bags.

Three months ago they’d operated as a quasi-governmental but still legitimate venture. They found missing people, both those who wanted rescue and those who were desperate to stay hidden. One of those missions had centered on Claire. Saving her had meant blowing their agency cover and losing their funding, all at the direction of a corrupt politician who had died in a shoot-out with Recovery agents.

Now they were a private organization, which meant no government oversight…and no one to stand up for them if they messed up. Since they rarely did, that was not much of a concern.

Luke took the seat at the head of the table and reached for the coffeepot in front of him. He poured what was his fourth cup before six in the morning. Much more and his eyes would float.

“What’s the word from Adam?” he asked the others in the room.

Without any planning or fanfare, the team had designated Luke their interim leader now that Rod Lehman, the previous boss, had gone missing. Making the head chair the one available to Luke was their way of reaching a silent agreement on the matter. Their loyalty humbled him.

“Adam checked in. Said there was gunfire during the extraction.” Caleb Mattern managed to fold his arms behind his head and shrug at the same time. “He took out three and is on the way back here with the Timmons woman.”

Avery, Caleb’s wife of one week, reached for a mug and settled into the chair across from her husband. They held matching science degrees and both excelled in forensics. The sly smile on her face said she was using her investigative skills now to eye up her spouse.

“It is amazing to me how you guys can say stuff like that and think it’s normal,” she said.

Caleb’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “It’s not?”

Luke enjoyed the banter, actually hated to break it up since the headquarters served as Caleb and Avery’s temporary home. They deserved a place to step away from work, but they didn’t have it right now.

Getting Avery to safety during their recent search for Rod had left Caleb’s condo open to compromise. Their new place was being retrofitted with the appropriate security measures. Until Adam was satisfied the condo near the National Zoo had every precaution and a host of silent alarms, Caleb and Avery made their home above the stairs.

“Any chance Adam took care of the bodies before he got in the truck?” Luke asked once the couple went from bickering to staring at each other. Luke didn’t want to get in the middle of that, either.

“I’ll check.” Caleb spun his chair around to face the bank of monitors and started typing on one of the keyboards. “But you know Adam.”

“I’ll assume that means no.” Luke reached for the phone in the middle of the table.

Avery morphed from newlywed to concerned team member. She’d worked in a government lab, analyzing exhibits and evidence for criminal cases until she’d helped Recovery on an off-the-books job and got placed on administrative leave. That left all her attention for Recovery and Caleb.

“Do you think we need to send in reinforcements just in case Adam missed someone?” she asked.

Luke shook his head. “Never get there in time. Besides, Adam was doing a grab and run. He should be long gone. It’s pretty standard stuff.”

Avery snorted. “Only if the grabee cooperates.”

“How could any woman say no to Adam?” Caleb laughed at his own joke then grew serious. “The bigger question is, who sent the men? Taking out the crooked WitSec handler a month ago clearly didn’t stop the bloodshed. That means, as we feared, this is not done.”

“We could have more victims, more participants in the program whose locations are being given up for cash,” Avery said.

“Exactly.” That familiar anxiety churned in Luke’s gut. “I want Adam back here so we can question the Timmons woman and figure out how to keep her hidden until we find the person at the head of this killing scheme.”

Caleb yawned into his mug. “Now.”

“What?”

“You mean, who’s in charge now. So far we’ve already uncovered a conspiracy involving Bram Walters, a now very dead congressman, and a supervisor in the Marshals Service who handled WitSec participants.”

Avery raised her hand. “Don’t forget Trevor Walters.”

Caleb swore under his breath. “Can’t even though I want to.”

“He’s in on this. I can feel it. Being Bram’s brother just increases the taint on Trevor as far as I can tell,” she said.

Luke wished it were as easy as thinking it was true. “We have to prove it. Until we do, Trevor is just a very rich, very connected and very untouchable businessman.”

“We’ll get him.”

Luke wanted to agree with Avery, but being sure about Trevor’s involvement hadn’t stopped the disaster so far. They needed facts and a way to take him out. “Try Adam again.”

Caleb nodded. “Will do.”

“How is Claire?” Avery’s voice softened as she asked the question.

Just the mention of his wife’s name and Luke felt the tension ease from his shoulders. “Pregnant and pissed because I insist she have security all the time.”

Avery smiled. “This will all be over soon.”

“Let’s hope.” Luke turned to Caleb. “What does Adam say?”

Caleb spun back around to face the table. His lips were thinned in a grim line. “Nothing. I suddenly can’t reach him.”

ADAM GOT MADDIE into his truck and watched her strap the seat belt across her chest. She stayed quiet and agreed with everything he said, followed every direction without fighting back. Didn’t try to kick him or steal his weapon.

He didn’t buy the act for one second. He’d bet his life she was waiting for the right time to run.

He wanted to think his sound arguments had convinced her to calm down, but he knew that wasn’t true. This woman was trained by Rod, the same man who’d trained Adam. She wouldn’t believe a stranger who showed up to pull her out of bed and race through the woods. She wouldn’t admit to being in WitSec.

And she wouldn’t sit quietly in his truck while he drove her to some unknown destination.

She was not stupid. She possessed street smarts and a stunning will to live. Turning evidence on a boyfriend who ran the biggest meth operation in Chicago proved that. Maddie was smart enough to get out and cut a deal with the Justice Department, one that landed her in WitSec and eventually in his lap.

Adam just hoped she’d put her drug past behind her. He didn’t want to deal with her going through withdrawal or looking for a hit. Recovery had a no-drug policy. They were all clean and no one questioned it. Adam believed in getting his thrills in other ways. Always had.

“Russell Ambrose is dead.” Adam meant to deliver the news of her handler with a little less anger in his voice and a whole lot more tact, but it didn’t work out that way.

Her head whipped around. Her unblinking stare out the window ended that fast. “What?”

He slipped the keys into the ignition but didn’t start the car. “He was giving away the identities of WitSec participants. He collected cash and got them killed.”

When she just stared at him, Adam rushed to fill the uncomfortable silence. “That’s why I’m here.”

“To kill me.”

“No.” He shook his head for emphasis since words alone didn’t appear to be working.

“Sure feels like it.”

“Maddie, listen to me. I’m trying to help you.”

“Right. Because the bad guys always admit they’re trying to kill you.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

“Good point.” He turned the key. “I know about Rod.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Looked as if they were back to denial. Adam wasn’t surprised, but he was getting frustrated. “I can tell you anything from your file.”

She folded and refolded her hands on her lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He hit the door locks just in case she ended the innocent act and headed for the handle to escape. “I know you’re trained to pretend. I get that.”

“Call the police.”

She could have told him she was a toaster oven and he would have been less surprised. He admired the move. It shoved him right into a corner. “I don’t think so.”

“If what you’re saying is true, call the police.” She glanced around the truck. “I don’t have a phone but I’m betting you do and I know you’re smart enough to dial 911.”

He did have a phone, but the real power came from his watch. It was how he communicated with the other agents, and that was the least impressive of its functions. “Taking you in will send a message to someone in WitSec. A handler will come to pick you up and hush up everything with the police.”

“Exactly.”

“I can’t risk it.”

“Neither can I.” She launched her body in his direction as she unlatched her seat belt.

If he hadn’t been expecting the attack she would have slammed his head against the window. Even waiting for it, she got in a few good shots.

She grabbed for the keys with one hand and punched him in the jaw with the other. The hit sent his head back. The smack against the headrest hurt his neck more than the blow, but she didn’t let up. Her fists pummeled his legs and chest.

When she switched to scratching, dragging her fingers across his forearm until she drew blood, he went from defense to an offensive strike. He grabbed her hand and leaned hard against her, pinning her on her back against the seat.

Her knee caught him in the stomach as she squirmed and flailed. She grunted and panted, forcing him to use more strength than he intended. He’d hoped to talk her down. That was before she aimed for his groin.

“Maddie, stop.”

“You’re hurting me.”

That admission ripped through him. He hated the idea of giving her so much as a bruise. “Stop trying to run and I’ll get up.”

He doubled his intent, stretching her arms above her head and straddling her upper thighs. He braced one foot on the floor and leaned over her, his face just inches from hers. He tried to get her to look at him, but she rolled her head from side to side, her neck muscles straining as she tried to knock him to the floor.

“Get off me.” She lifted her hips in an attempt to buck him off then let out a shriek.

The high-pitched sound echoed in his ears. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” The word came out through staccato breaths.

He recognized pain when he saw it. He figured he had to be hurting her sore shoulder and tried to adjust his hold. “Better?”

“No.”

“Margaret Thomas.”

At the mention of the name she stopped pushing and mumbling. Her chest rose and fell in a rapid pace he feared would stop her heart.

But he had her attention. “That’s your real name. You grew up in Indiana, the only child of Frank and Louise. Your father died when you were fourteen. Your mother died last year, but you couldn’t go to the funeral because of the program’s rules.”

Maddie bit her lip but stayed quiet.

“You testified against Knevin Leonard, your boyfriend and partner in a drug ring. He vowed to kill you for turning him in. Even hired some nasty guys to try it.”

“No.”

The truth was written all over her face, from the sadness in her eyes to the tightening of the skin over her cheekbones. “Yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Maddie, please.” He had to break through her protective shield. He had about an hour’s drive to headquarters. He couldn’t spend every moment worrying she’d leap through the window if he slowed down to change lanes. “I can tell you where you met Rod the first time. Would that convince you?”

“I wasn’t his partner.”

Adam sat back, resting his weight on his knees and his hands on his thighs. “I don’t understand.”

She slowly lowered her arms. “I never dealt drugs and didn’t know Knevin was doing it.”

For whatever reason, it seemed that was the one piece of information she couldn’t tolerate being told. Didn’t matter that the evidence said otherwise, she was sticking with the innocence story on that one.

It wasn’t his business. She could tell whatever lie she needed to tell to wrestle the guilt away from her bed at night. But disappointment still pounded him. He’d invested so much time in watching over her that he wanted her to at least own up to her mistakes. They all had a few. Sure, hers were bigger than most, but that just made her human.

He shook off the anger before it could fester. “Fine.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t care.” But he did. The idea of her getting drugs into kids’ hands gnawed at him. Made him want to shake her until she promised never to fall back into those habits.

The emotion washed out of her face, leaving behind only a blank stare. “What happens now?”

“Same plan.” He sat back in his seat and held a hand out to help her up. “We go to the Recovery Project headquarters until we can figure out a way to keep you safe.”

She ignored his offer and sat up on her own. The process took longer than usual for such an easy activity. She twisted and winced.

“And I’m supposed to ignore protocol and not call my handler?”

“Ambrose is dead.”

“So you keep saying.” She tried to turn around and face front then stilled. Adam thought if she bit down any harder on her lower lip, she’d chew right through it.

“Is it your shoulder?”

She stretched, grimacing with every move. “No.”

“It’s something. “

She bent over with her elbows on her knees and inhaled several deep breaths. “I thought you were the smart guy who knew my file.”

He searched his memory but couldn’t come up with anything to explain the green cast to her skin. “Meaning?”

“If you were, you’d know about my back.”

An old injury. That explained it. His intel was incomplete, didn’t reach back much further than the trial prep and police file. It was hard enough even getting that much since her identity was tightly protected. “What about it?”

“I broke it.”

Her shoulder had to be throbbing and now her back. Guilt racked him. He could have been more careful. Maybe not when the gunmen were firing, but certainly when he was trying to get her to listen to him. “When?”

She looked up at him. “When my former boyfriend threw me off a building.”

Chapter Four

Trevor Walters leaned back in his chair and stared at the man sitting on the other side of his desk. If Trevor had his way, John Tate would disappear. Just step into a hole in the earth and never be seen again. It was tempting to make that happen.

If John were a different man, one with less powerful friends and a less visible career, he’d be gone. His pseudowealth and puffed-up overconfidence wouldn’t save him.

The man had all the obvious trappings Trevor despised. Everything about John screamed poor taste wrapped up in a bundle of new money. Passable suit. Shiny watch. Big government title. And not a clue about the danger he invited into his world when he came up against Trevor.

John was the deputy director of the Justice Department’s Office of Enforcement Operations. He handled intricate government surveillance and held all the power in the witness protection program, including having the final say on who got in and who didn’t.

But Trevor was more concerned with the man’s side job: newly minted blackmailer. That was the position that would get John killed. Trevor vowed to make that true.

“I have to wonder where you got the men to fight this particular battle against the Recovery Project,” Trevor said.

“Why?”

“Seems they were not very successful against Adam Wright and Maddie Timmons. One could say they were ill prepared for what they found in West Virginia.”

“This time.”

Trevor predicted the answer was more like every time. “I would have thought you would ask to use my men.”

Not that he would have agreed. Orion Industries was his baby, a legitimate government-contracts firm he built from nothing. The business specialized in threat management, whether that meant assisting fledgling foreign governments or working for his own. He was not about to ruin Orion’s stellar reputation by dragging it into John’s mess.

“I didn’t realize you’d been successful fighting the Recovery Team agents.” John made a show of brushing something off his charcoal dress pants. “From what I remember, every time you’ve gone against Recovery you’ve had to make up a story about an accident in training exercises and call your men’s next of kin. That’s not exactly a stellar history either, now, is it?”

Not that Trevor needed a reminder of that fact. His losses had been high enough for him to enter into an informal deal with Luke Hathaway, Recovery’s leader: Trevor would leave Recovery alone and vice versa. After all, there were only so many men on his payroll qualified and trustworthy enough to do the dirty off-the-books job and he was running low.

But John didn’t know any of that and Trevor was not about to fill him in. “I am smart enough not to full-on fight with Recovery, but if I did I assure you I would most definitely succeed.”

John smiled. “I wonder if your brother counted on that fact.”

Trevor curled his fingers into fists to keep from reaching for the gun taped under his desk. “Leave Bram out of this.”

“Why? The Recovery agents killed him.” John smacked his lips together in mock concern. “I still don’t understand why you’ve refrained from seeking revenge.”

“Because I am civilized?”

“You could have unloaded. Bram was, after all, a highly respected congressman. At least in the public’s view. Though we know better, don’t we?”

Trevor had kept the real circumstances of Bram’s death quiet to preserve his brother’s legacy. Trevor hoped the Walters brothers’ involvement with the WitSec money-for-information scheme would end at Bram’s grave.

It might have if John hadn’t gotten his hands on the tape that changed Trevor’s life. That made him a target instead of a leader. “Maybe you should focus your attention on keeping your moneymaking plan quiet instead of on my private life.”

“But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

John never did have grasp of the obvious. “You happen to be in my office.”

“This time.” John’s mouth twisted in a snarl as he said the words. “I won’t tolerate being ordered around again.”

But he would. Trevor would make John do it over and over until Trevor got bored with the cat-and-mouse game.

“I will do what I have to do until you realize you do not own me.”

“But I do…unless you want a certain tape to go public.”

Trevor mentally pledged to redouble his efforts to get that tape. If he couldn’t find it, he’d do things the hard way. Maybe start with John’s pretty little wife.

Trevor would have a file on her by morning. “It is interesting how a man who has sold out WitSec particpants’ locations for cash is trying to use blackmail and threats of public-image destruction to get his way.”

“Nothing in those deaths points to me. Since the identities were secret, the deaths aren’t even public knowledge. No one knows to investigate the losses, such as they are.”

“Interesting.”

It appeared John was not smart enough to realize every conversation in the office was recorded. Even his underling Russell Ambrose got that, and Russell was dumb enough to get himself killed at the Recovery agents’ feet.

The public didn’t know why Russell died in a shoot-out for fear the news of a witness handler selling information would upend the program, but powerful people in government now knew. A top-secret investigation into WitSec was all but assured, which Trevor assumed was why John wanted the loose ends tied and tucked.

“I will concede the men I sent to retrieve Ms. Timmons failed in their quest,” John said.

“Apparently.”

John leaned forward, his smarmy self-satisfaction abandoned in favor of fevered whispers. “We cannot afford to have her welcomed into the protective bosom of the Recovery Project.”

“We?”

“She is with one of their agents.”

Adam Wright. Trevor knew all about him. About all the agents. “I have read the intel on your failed mission. I know the facts.”

“Then you know we are at a turning point.”

Trevor could smell the desperation on the other man. The weakness disgusted him. “Meaning?”

“You need to step up and play your part.”

Trevor shifted in his chair. The leather felt comfortable again now that he was back in control and his unwanted guest was squirming. “This conversation would work better if you would stop talking in wild generalities and asking rhetorical questions.”

“You need to terminate Adam Wright and Maddie Timmons.”

“That will just bring the entire Recovery team to my doorstep. No, thank you.”

“Then kill them all.”

Just when Trevor thought John could not get more reckless, he did. “I think law enforcement would notice a mass murder within the D.C. metro area.”

“Then you better be careful in how you do it. I’d suggest a gas explosion.”

“Subtle.”

“Something believable that will take them all out.”

Trevor exhaled to show his displeasure with the ridiculous conversation. “The Recovery team is made up of law enforcement officers of sorts. Former military, maybe, but still, they have friends in high places.”

John jumped to his feet. “Then you pick something. Just get it done.”

MADDIE RECHARGED BY THE TIME Adam drove through the thick metal gate surrounding the beat-up beige warehouse. The thought of being locked inside the premises sent a rush of panic through every cell and pore in her body. Her innate tendency to run to safety and ask questions later kicked into gear. It took all her control to sit there and let Adam usher her into the unknown.

She figured if he wanted her dead he would have killed her by now. She repeated the refrain until it took hold and she started to believe it.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Adam said in what could only be described as a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding tone.

She had to smile. “I guess I said that out loud, huh?”

He threw her a sidelong glance. “Yeah.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No.”

She expected him to defend his position and argue his case. By agreeing, he sucked the heat right out of her. Still, she needed to follow protocol. Her handlers had drummed the plan into her head until it played in her dreams. Get to a safe place and call. She couldn’t promise on the first, but she could make the second happen.

Let Adam explain to the U.S. Marshals Service why she was safer with him when they broke down the doors to rescue her. She just needed to stay safe. She’d fought too hard, sacrificed too much, to risk it all over a sexy man with an even sexier dimple.

Adam parked and nearly broke a speed record coming around to her side of the truck to open the door. He likely thought she would bolt. Since he’d driven into a secure and brightly lit garage, a place with few obvious exits, he didn’t have to worry. Even she wouldn’t try to break her way through a metal wall.

“How are you feeling?” His voice dipped low as he asked the question.

The sexy vibration made her insides jump around in excitement. “Fine.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Maddie.”

She rolled her eyes. “The shoulder and the back hurt.”

“We can get you some medical attention.”

“You won’t call the police but you’ll call an ambulance?”

“I think he means me.” A guy slipped in behind Adam. “Hey, man. Have a nice time in West Virginia?”

She tensed but Adam smiled. “Maddie, this is Caleb Mattern.”

“I work with Adam,” Caleb explained as he held out his hand toward her.

She shook the man’s hand and then pulled hers back fast. She wasn’t even out of the truck and she had to battle two of them.

And what exactly did these guys eat? Caleb stood over six feet, with broad shoulders, light brown hair and the most soothing blue-green eyes she’d ever seen. He had that handsome mussed look that reminded her of blue jeans and football on Sunday afternoons. The relaxed style matched his welcoming smile. The only surprise was the shiny gold wedding band.

Attractive or not, she didn’t trust Caleb one inch more than she trusted Adam. Well, that wasn’t true. She reluctantly believed Adam wanted to help her. She didn’t know why or if her radar was off, but she was willing to go along for now. But only with Adam.

“I hear you got banged up,” Caleb said.

She’d been with Adam every single minute since the attackers came. He hadn’t made a call. She’d know, since she’d been watching for a cell phone so she could steal it. “Who told you that?”

“It’s on the radio.” Adam frowned at her in a way that said he thought she was clueless. “How do you think? I did.”

“When?”

Adam waved her off then reached up to drag her out of the truck. “Don’t worry about it.”

She wasn’t in the mood to be placated or manhandled. She pulled out of his reach and ignored Caleb’s half cough, half laugh as she did. “You want me to trust you but you’re keeping information from me. How is that fair?”

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s got you there, man.”

“Don’t help.”

Caleb’s smile grew wider. “Can’t seem to stop.”

“She can fight her own battles.”

Caleb nodded. “I get it. I’ve been there.”

“Where?” Maddie asked.

Adam glared as his teammate for about ten seconds before turning back to her. “I used my watch.”

Maddie didn’t follow. Maybe she did need a bed and an aspirin before she could function again. “What does that mean?”

Adam held out his wrist to her. “It works like a telephone only better.”

The black face looked like most other watches but bigger. She could see a series of buttons and when Adam hit one, the face switched to an image of the garage.

Caleb pointed around the space. “Cameras. You’re almost never alone here.”

She was more interested in the phone part. “Where can I get one of those?”

“Adam designed this one. We all wear them.”

With all the gunfire and running, she’d almost forgotten about the other side of him. “So, the computer-geek thing is real.”

“I prefer the word genius.”

Adam exhaled. “I’m sure you do.”

Caleb didn’t try to hide his laugh that time. “Let’s take this discussion inside.”

He reached in the cab to bring her out. Instinctively, she shrank back, wedging her body into the seat. When Caleb stared at her with a she’s-nuts-and-getting-crazier-by-the-second look all men did so well, she sat back up.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

Caleb winked. “It takes more than that to offend me, but I do want to make sure you’re okay.”

She didn’t want to like them, either of them. Caleb made her feel comfortable. Adam made her all tingly. She didn’t care for either reaction.

“You’re a doctor?” she asked.

“I’m the forensics and science guy on the team. We all have emergency training, but mine is a bit more extensive.”

Yeah, no, thanks. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have a choice, Maddie. I insist.”

When Adam said things like that, got all dictatorial and grumpy, she didn’t like him much at all. “Insist?”

“We are done running and hiding, and you need someone to look you over. It can either be Caleb or me. Choose.”

She dug her nails into her palms. “Oh, really.”

“You’re safe here, and that’s the last time I’m going to tell you that.”

Caleb cleared his throat. “It might be more believable if you weren’t yelling at her.”

Adam’s voice got louder. “I tried being nice—”

That was news to her. “When?”

“We have questions and she’s going to answer them.” Adam put his hand under her elbow. The gentle touch contrasted with his gruff words.

She slid out of the seat and glanced up at Caleb’s smiling face. “Do you have another team member I can talk to?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

Adam talked over both of them. “Nice try, but you’re stuck with me.”

That’s exactly what had her worried.

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