“Okay, what’s going on?”

“Nothing I can talk about.”

“Why not?” Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips, where it lingered, and then continued down his body.

That was the sexiest thing to happen to him in the past year. “I need a shower.”

“Want some help?” she teased.

“Normally I’d take you up on that.” He stalked across the room, pausing at the door to the bathroom.

“I was kidding. No man on earth would want to shower with me the way I must look.”

He moved to the bed and leaned over her, stopping a fraction of an inch before their lips touched. “Why not? Most men I know appreciate a beautiful woman.”

Those stunning hazel eyes of hers darkened. Being this close was probably a bad idea. Even if she wasn’t his witness, she was injured. No way could they do anything in her condition.

But then autopilot kicked in, and Reed couldn’t stop himself.

Hard Target

Barb Han

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARB HAN lives in North Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

This book is dedicated to the amazing and strong people in my life. Allison Lyons, you continue to amaze me with your insight and passion. Jill Marsal, you are brilliant and I’m grateful to work with you.

Brandon, Jacob and Tori, you bring out the best in me every day—I love all three of you more than you can know. John, none of this would be this amazing and fun without you—my best friend and the great love of my life.

Liz Lipperman, a huge thank-you for answering my many medical questions and offering brainstorming support. You really are the bomb!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Emily Baker pulled her legs into her chest and hugged her knees. Waves of fear and anger rolled through her.

A hammer pounded the inside of her head, a residual effect from the beatings. Her busted bottom lip was dry and cracked from dehydration.

“Move,” one of the men commanded, forcing her to her feet.

A crack across her back nearly caused her to fall again.

The whole experience of the past few days had been surreal. One minute she’d been kayaking in a tropical paradise, enjoying all the rich sounds of the dense forest. The next she was being dragged through the jungle by guerrillas. She’d been blindfolded for what had to be hours, although she’d completely lost track of time, and had been led through pure hell.

Vegetation thickened the longer she’d walked. Thorns pierced her feet. The sun had blistered her skin. Ant bites covered her ankles.

A man they called Dueño had ordered the men to change her appearance. They’d chopped her hair and poured something on it that smelled like bleach. She assumed they did it to ensure she no longer matched the description of the woman the resort would report as missing. Oh, God, the word missing roiled her stomach.

She’d read about American tourists being snatched while on vacation, but didn’t those things happen to other people? Rich people?

Not data entry clerks with no family who’d scrimped and saved for three years to take the trip in the first place.

Men in front of her fanned out, and she saw the small encampment ahead. The instant a calloused hand made contact with her shoulder, she shuddered.

“Get down!” He pushed her down on all fours.

The leader, Dueño, stood over her. He was slightly taller than the others and well dressed. His face was covered, so she couldn’t pick him out of a lineup if she’d wanted to. “You want to go home, Ms. Baker?”

“Yes.” How’d he know her name?

“Then tell me what I want to know. Give me the password to SourceCon.” Anger laced his words.

How did he know where she worked? All thoughts of this being a random kidnapping fizzled and died.

“I can’t. I don’t have them.” The night before she’d left for vacation, she changed them as a precaution. Her new passwords were taped to the underside of her desk at home.

“Fine. Have it your way.” He turned his back. “Starve her until she talks.”

Twenty-four hours tied up with no food or water had left her weak, but she couldn’t give him what she didn’t know.

He returned the next morning. “Do you remember them now?”

“No. I already told you I don’t have them.” Anger and fear engulfed her like a raging forest fire.

He backhanded her and repeated the question. When another blow didn’t produce his desired result, he ordered one of the men to beat her, and another to dig a hole.

Fear gripped her as she was shoved inside the dark cramped space.

After dark, there were only three guards keeping watch. One drank until he passed out. She’d been working on loosening her bindings all day and had made progress. Maybe she could make a move to escape.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

One of the guards hauled her out of the hole, removed the rope from her ankles and then shoved her into a thicket. He looked at her with black eyes. “Two minutes.”

He hadn’t noticed the ropes on her arms were loose. Hope filled her chest for the first time since her capture. Immediately, she shucked the bindings from her arms, and then took off.

For two days, she’d carved her way through the dense vegetation, fearful. Any minute she’d expected the men to catch up, to stick her in another hole. Her punishment this time surely would be death.

Exhausted, feet bleeding, she made it to the edge of the jungle. In the clearing ahead, she spotted ships. Her heartbeat amplified as her excitement grew. She’d rummage around for something to eat, and then wait until dark.

Time stilled and the hours ticked by. The few berries she’d eaten kept her stomach from cramping.

When all commotion on the dock stopped, she checked manifests until she located one in English. The ship was heading to Galveston, Texas. She buried herself inside a small compartment in one of the crates. No matter how weak she was, she didn’t dare sleep.

By sunrise, voices drew closer and the ship moved. The boat swayed, and she battled waves of nausea. Her stomach rumbled and churned, protesting the amount of time that had gone by without a meal.

How long had it been since she’d eaten real food? Five days? Six?

Hours had gone by and the air was becoming thicker. Her breathing labored. She swiped away a stray tear, praying she was nearing shore. All she had to do was survive a little while longer. The panels of the wooden freight box she’d jammed herself into seconds before the ship had left the dock were closing in on her, making it hard to move, or breathe. She couldn’t afford another panic attack, or allow her mind to go to the place where she was in that dark hole being starved and beaten. A sob escaped before she could suppress it.

The ship had to be closing in on its destination by now. She was so close to the States she could almost taste her freedom.

Or was she?

All her hopes were riding on a journey across the Gulf of Mexico, but the truth was she could be anywhere. She reminded herself that she’d read the manifest, and prayed she’d understood it correctly.

Emily bit out a curse at the men who’d made her feel helpless and kicked at the walls of the crate, withdrawing her foot when she blistered it with another splinter. Her soles were already raw. She’d need to make sure she cleaned them up and found antibiotic ointment when she got off this horrible boat.

She’d already collected splinters in her elbows and thighs. Escaping the compound in a swimsuit wouldn’t have been her first choice, but she’d grasped her first opportunity to run. There’d been no time for debate. Her chance had presented itself and she’d seized it, not stopping until long after the men’s voices had faded.

She repositioned herself in the crate, grateful she could almost stretch her legs. She’d survived so far by doing mental math calculations, flexing and releasing her stomach muscles, and tightening her abs.

No food left her weak.

The minutes seemed to drip by, and her body cramped from being in such a small space. She had no watch, no cell phone and no purse.

None of which she cared about as much as her freedom.

She could get the rest once she got out of the crate and off this boat.

The resort area had been paradise when she’d first arrived, but nothing sounded better to Emily than home, a hot bath and her own bed.

Holy hell. She couldn’t go home. If they knew her name and where she worked, they had to know where she lived, too. A ripple of fear skittered across already taut nerves.

She pressed her face against a crack in the crate. Darkness. Nothing but darkness behind her and darkness in front of her.

The man who’d helped her onto her kayak had told her to stay close to the ocean side and not the jungle because of the risk of running into alligators. Now she wondered if maybe they’d known about the rebel groups scouring the edges all along. They hadn’t warned her about men with massive guns, and bandannas covering their faces, leaving only black eyes staring at her, coming to take her. She would’ve listened to that. She wouldn’t have ventured off, following a monkey in the canopy. And where had the monkey gone?

Onto one of her kidnappers’ shoulders.

She’d initially hoped the resort would send security once it discovered she hadn’t returned to her room. She’d held on to the hope for two days in the jungle. With no shoes, her feet had been bitten, cut and aching after the daylong walks and nights of camping. And hope had retreated faster than the sun before a thunderstorm.

There’d been shouting, too. It had scared her nearly to death. At first she feared they would rape her, but no one had touched her.

Extortion? Drugs? Ransom?

Nope. None.

He’d asked for her passwords.

A sense of relief had washed over her. If she’d had to rely on her family, she’d be dead for sure. Her family wasn’t exactly reliable, and they were broke. Even skilled trackers like these would have trouble locating her mother. The Bakers had split faster than an atom, and left similar devastation in their wake. At least the ones she knew.

Emily had always been the black sheep. She’d moved away, worked hard and put herself through college. Her mom had refused to allow her to take the SAT, saying it would only train her to be some corporation’s slave, so she’d researched a grandfather clause in a North Texas school, did two years at a community college, and after another three years, graduated from the small university.

She’d come to North Texas solely on the promise of affordable living and an abundant job market, figuring she could build the rest of her life from there. And she had. She’d gotten a job as a data entry clerk at a computer company and was working her way up. Her boss was due a promotion and she’d been promised his job.

There were rare occasions when she heard from her mother, although it was mostly when she needed money. Turns out free love didn’t pay all that much. Watching her mom wither away after her dad walked out, Emily had made a vow. No one would take away her power. Ever.

Being resourceful had gotten her through college, and landed her first real job. She’d pulled on every bit of her quick wit to escape her captors. Once back in the States, she could locate a church or soup kitchen, and get help. No way could she find a police station. Not after overhearing her abductors talk about bribing American border police. Her body trembled. They’d hand her right back to Dueño. She’d be dead in five minutes. Not happening.

Once she was on dry land, she could figure out a way to sneak into her town house. She needed ID and clothes. There was a little money in her bank account. She could use it to disappear for a year or two. Wait it out until this whole thing blew over. Dread settled over her at the thought of leaving the only place that felt like home.

She thought about the threat Dueño had made, the underlying promise in his tone that he had every intention of delivering on his word. The way he’d said her name had caused an icy chill to grip her spine.

The ship pitched forward then stopped. Had it docked?

Emily repeated a silent protection prayer she’d learned when she was a little girl as her pulse kicked up a notch. She had no idea what she’d find on the other side of the crate.

Her skin was clammy and salty. She was starving and dehydrating. But she was alive, dammit, and she could build from there.

There were male voices. Please, let them be American.

She listened intently.

At least two men shouted orders. Feet shuffled. She couldn’t tell how many others there were, but at least they spoke English. Her first thought was to beat on the walls of the crate, let them find her and beg to be taken home. But then, she was in a shipment, beaten and bruised, illegally entering the country with no ID.

Would the men call police? Immigration?

There were other, worse things they could do to her when they found her, too. A full-body shiver roared through her.

She couldn’t afford to risk her safety.

Besides, the man who’d had her kidnapped had been clear. She’d been his target. If she surfaced now, she’d most likely be recaptured or killed. Neither was an acceptable prospect.

Could she figure out a way to slip off the boat while the deckhands unloaded the other boxes?

If she wriggled out of the crate now, she might be seen. The only choice was to wait it out, be patient until the right opportunity presented itself. This shipment had to be loaded onto something, right? A semi? Please, not another boat.

Painful heartbeats stabbed her ribs. She tensed, coiled and prepared to spring at whatever came next.

A voice cut through the noise, and everything else went dead silent.

The rich timbre shot straight through her, causing her body to shiver in the most inappropriate way under the circumstances.

She listened more closely. There were other sounds. Feet padding and heavy breathing.

Oh, no.

Police dogs.

Their agitated barks shot through the crate like rapid gunfire, inches from Emily’s face. In the small compartment, she had nowhere to hide. The dogs’ heated breaths blasted through the cracks. If her odor wasn’t bad enough, this certainly wouldn’t help matters. Now she’d smell like dirt, sweat and bad animal breath.

Emily’s heart palpitated. She prayed an officer would stop the dogs. From the sounds of them, they’d rip her to shreds.

“Hier. Komm!” another voice commanded.

Emily made out the fact the officer spoke in another language. Dutch? German?

Damn.

She was about to be exposed. Her heart clutched. She had no idea how powerful the man who’d kidnapped her was. One thing was certain. He had enough money to buy off American border police. Was she about to come face-to-face with men he had in his pocket?

She shuddered at the thought of being sent back to Dueño, to that hell.

Her left eye still burned from the crack he’d fired across her cheek when she’d told him she didn’t know the codes.

Maybe she could tell the officers the truth, beg them to let her go.

If they were for real, maybe she had a chance.

Voices surrounded her. Male. Stern.

She coiled tighter, praying she’d have enough energy to fight back or run. She’d have about a half second to decide if they would send her back to that hellhole, but she wouldn’t go willingly.

A side panel burst open and Emily rolled out. She popped to her feet.

The officer in front of her was tall, had to be at least six-two. His hair was almost dark enough to be black. He had intense brown eyes, and he wore a white cowboy hat. He was built long and lean with ripples of muscles. Under normal circumstances, she’d be attracted to him. But now, all she could think about was her freedom.

He had a strong jawline, and when he smiled, his cheeks were dimpled. His eyes might be intense, but they were honest, too.

She held her hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “Help me. Please. I’m American.”

* * *

“YOU’RE A US CITIZEN?” Reed Campbell had taken one look at the curled-up little ball when he opened the crate and felt an unfamiliar tug at his heart. He pushed it aside as she shot to her feet. Her face was bruised. She had a busted lip. Even though her hair was overly bleached and tangled, and she could use a shower, her hazel eyes had immense depth—the kind that drew him in, which was ridiculous under the circumstances. It had to be her vulnerability that stirred the kind of emotions that had no place at work.

“Yes.” She spoke in perfect English, but American citizens didn’t normally travel home in a crate from Mexico. It looked as if standing took effort. “You can sit down if you’d like.”

She nodded and he helped her to a smaller crate where she eased down. He asked an agent to grab a bottled water out of his Jeep. A few seconds later, one of his colleagues produced one.

The cap was on too tight, and she seemed too weak to fight with it.

“I can do that for you.” He easily twisted off the lid.

She thanked him, downed three-quarters of the bottle and then poured the rest over her face.

“What’s your name?”

She stalled as though debating her answer. “Emily Baker.”

“I need to see ID, ma’am. Driver’s license. Passport.” He looked her up and down. No way did she have a wallet tucked into her two-piece swimsuit. The material fit like an extra layer of skin, highlighting full breasts and round hips. Neither of which needed to go in his report. He forced his gaze away from the soft curves on an otherwise firm body.

He cleared his throat. Damn, dry weather.

“I don’t have any with me.” The words came out sharp, but the tone sounded weary and drained. The crate she was in was huge and there were several compartments. More illegals? Human trafficking? Reed had seen it all in the past six years as a Border Patrol agent.

“Let’s see what else we find in here,” Agent Pete Sanders said.

She seemed to realize she stood in front of them wearing next to nothing when she crossed her arms over her chest and her cheeks flushed pink. She suddenly looked even more vulnerable and small. Her embarrassment tugged at his heart. More descriptions that wouldn’t go in his Homeland Security report.

She shivered, glanced down and to the right. She was about to lie. “Look. I can explain everything.”

“I’m all ears.”

Agents hauled over two crew members and told them to stay put.

She looked up at Reed again, and her hazel eyes were wide and fearful. Her hands shook. The men seemed to make her want to jump out of her skin even more. She was frightened, but not a flight risk. Cuffing her would most likely scare her even more. Besides, pulling her sunburned and blistered arms behind her back would hurt more than her pride. She also looked starved and dehydrated. One bottle of water would barely scratch the surface.

Getting her to talk under these circumstances might prove even more difficult. As it was, she looked too frightened to speak. Reed needed to thin her audience. He glanced at the K-9 officer. “I got this one under control. The other agents will see if there are more stashed in there. She’s a quick run up to immigration.”

The officer nodded before giving the command for his dog to keep searching. As soon as the two disappeared around the corner, the blonde dropped to her knees. Tears filled her eyes, a perfect combination of brown, gray and blue.

“I know how this must look. I’m not stupid. But I can explain.”

“You already said that.”

“Okay. Let’s see. Where do I start?” Even through her fear, she radiated a sense of inner strength and independence.

Hell, he could respect that. Even admired her for it. But allowing a suspected illegal alien, or whatever she was, entry into the country wasn’t his call. “At the beginning. How’d you end up in the crate?”

“I, uh, I...”

This was going nowhere. He wanted to reach out to her, help her, but she had to be willing to save herself. “We have some folks you can talk to. They can help.”

“No. Please don’t take me anywhere else. Just let me go. I’ll show up to whatever court date. I won’t disappear. I promise. I have a good job. One that I can’t afford to lose.”

Reed knew desperation. Hell, most drug runners were just as desperate. They’d offer bribes, their women, pretty much anything to manipulate the system.

His sixth sense told him this was different. There was an innocence and purity to her eyes that drew him in. Victim?

He pressed his lips into a frown. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No.”

“Then I’m free to go?” The flash of hope in her eyes seared his heart.

“I didn’t say that.” With her perfect English, he knew she wasn’t illegal. But what else would she be doing tucked in a crate headed for the States, looking like a punching bag? Human trafficking? She was battered and bruised. If someone was trying to sell her, she’d fought back. But that explanation didn’t exactly add up. Most traffickers didn’t risk damaging the “product.”

The officers moved to another wall on the other side of the crate. Twenty people could’ve been stuffed in there. He hoped like hell they weren’t about to open up the other side and find more in the same shape as her. Seeing a woman beaten up didn’t do good things to Reed. He fisted his hands.

“What happened to you?” Even bruised and dirty, she was pretty damn hot. The tan two-piece she wore stretched taut against full breasts. Reed refocused on her heart-shaped face. Was someone trying to sell her into the sex trade? One look at her curves and long silky legs told him men would pay serious money for her. His protective instincts flared at the thought.

“I was on vacation and was robbed. They stole my passport. Said if I told authorities, they’d find me and kill me. I spent a night in the jungle trying to find my way back to the resort. I walked for an eternity, saw this ship and hopped on board praying no one would follow, find or catch me.”

The bruises on her face and body outlined the fact she wasn’t being honest. He shot her a sideways glance. “What happened to your face?”

“One of the men hit me?” Yeah, she was digging—digging a hole she might not be able to climb out of. It would take more than that to cause the bruising she had.

“I hope I don’t have to remind you it’s not in your best interest to lie to the law.”

Her gaze darted around before settling on him.

“So, the story you’re sticking with is that they jumped you on the beach?”

“No. I went into town.”

“In just your swimsuit?”

A red rash crawled up her neck. Hell, he hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She already seemed uncomfortable as hell in his presence. He had an extra shirt in his vehicle he could give her.

“Oh, right. I, uh, I already said I got lost.”

“Enough to jump inside a random cargo ship and go wherever it took you? Sounds like someone trying to get away from something.” Or someone. Yet another truth that hit him like a sucker punch.

She fixed her gaze on the cement. Was she about to lie again?

“You want to explain what really happened?” he preempted, pulling a notebook and pen from his pocket. She was beautiful. An inappropriate attraction surged through him. He shouldn’t have passed on the offer of sex from Deanna the other night. And yet, the thrill of sex for sex’s sake had never appealed to Reed.

“I’ve been through a lot in the past couple of days. Like I said, I got disoriented or something.” She blinked against the bright sun. “Where am I?”

“Galveston, Texas.”

Relief washed over her desperate expression. “Oh, thank God. That’s perfect. I’m from Plano, a Dallas suburb.”

“I’m familiar with the area. Have family there.” He looked up from his pad. “What are you really doing here?”

“I work for a company called SourceCon. You can call and check. They’ll tell you I’m on vacation. My boss has my itinerary.”

Finally, he was getting somewhere. She was still lying about getting lost in Mexico, and she was a bad liar, too. That was a good sign. Meant she didn’t normally lie her way out of situations. She didn’t have the convictions of a pathological liar. But now he had something to work with. It wouldn’t take much to make a quick call to verify her employment. He could do that for her, at least.

The sound of one of the crate’s other walls smacking the pavement split the air.

“Hey, Campbell,” Pete said.

“Yeah. Right here.”

“You’re gonna want to see this.” He rounded the corner, hoisting an AR-15 in the air. “Looks like your friend here is involved in running guns.”

Reed deadpanned her. “You just bought yourself a ride to Homeland Security.”

Chapter Two

The trouble Emily was in hit with the force of a tsunami. “I’m broke. I’m exhausted. And they promised to hunt me down and kill me if I crossed them.”

A strong hand pulled her to her feet.

“You can lean on me,” he said before turning his head and shouting for someone to bring water.

The agent’s gaze skimmed her face one more time, pausing at her busted lip. His brilliant brown eyes searched for the truth. A thousand butterflies released in her stomach with him so close.

Emily hadn’t seen a mirror, but based on her amount of pain she had to be a total mess. The only good news was that he seemed to be considering what she was saying. Please. Please. Please. Believe me.

Another bottle of water arrived. The agent twisted off the cap and handed it to her. His broad cheekbones and rich timbre set off a sparkler inside her.

The glorious water cooled her still-parched throat. She downed most of the contents, using the leftovers to splash more water on her face. “Thank you.”

Her stomach growled. “Any chance you have a hamburger hidden somewhere?”

He shot her a look full of pity. Something else flashed behind his brown eyes when he said, “We can stop and pick something up on the way.”

“Please don’t turn me in. I can prove I’m American if I can get to my belongings.” She took a step forward, and her knees buckled.

The agent caught her before she hit the ground. “Let’s get something in your stomach first.”

He helped her across the loading dock to his Jeep parked in the lot.

She eased onto the passenger seat.

“You’re welcome to my extra shirt.” He produced a white button-down from the back. “And I have a couple extra bottles of water and a towel.”

A spark of hope lit inside her. Was he going to help? She thanked him for the supplies, pouring the opened bottle of water onto the towel first. The wet cloth felt cool on her skin. She dabbed her face before wiping her neck, chest and arms.

Pulling on the shirt required a little more finesse. She winced as she stretched out her arms. The agent immediately made a move to help. He eased one of her hands in the sleeve, and then the other. She managed the buttons on her own. Taking in a breath, the smell of his shirt reminded her of campfires lit outdoors and clean spring air.

“I have a power bar. Keep a few in a cooler in back for those long stretches of nothingness when I’m patrolling fence.” He held out the wrapped bar and another water.

She took both, placed the water in her lap and tried to steady her hands enough to open the wrapper.

The protein bar tasted better than steak. She drained the water bottle in less than a minute. “I’ve already thanked you, but I’d like to repay you somehow.”

His gaze locked onto hers. “Tell me the truth about what happened to you. I can’t stop these men from hurting other women without information.”

Was he saying what she thought? The men who’d abducted her belonged to a kidnapping ring? Of course they did. She hadn’t even considered it before, she’d been too concerned about her own life, but they seemed practiced and professional. If she could stop them, she had to try.

She nodded.

He climbed into the driver’s side, put the key in the ignition and then waited.

“At first, I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I just kept thinking this couldn’t be real.” She looked over at him, hating that she was trembling with fear. “I was dragged through the jungle for hours, starved and then stuck in a hole with no food or water.” Tears welled. She would hold back the information about knowing she’d been a target until she was certain she could trust him. As it was, maybe he’d let her go.

“Do you know how long you were there?”

“What day is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Monday.”

“My flight arrived in Mexico last Monday.”

“A week ago.”

“The sky was clear blue, the most beautiful shade I’ve ever seen. I’d stayed up late at a welcome party, so I didn’t get outside until noon or so the next day. Took a kayak out, and that’s when they grabbed me.”

Compassion warmed his stern features. “Now we’re getting somewhere. How many men were there?”

“Half a dozen.”

“Can you give a description?”

“They wore bandannas to cover their faces. Other than that, they were a little taller than me.” She was five foot seven. “They had to be five-eight or five-nine. Black hair and eyes.”

His face muscles tensed.

“I just described half of the country, didn’t I?”

He nodded, his expression radiating a sense of calm. “Dark skin or light?”

“Dark. Definitely dark.”

“Can you describe their clothing?”

“Most of them wore old jeans and faded T-shirts. Looked like secondhand stuff. They were dirty.”

“Some guerrilla groups live in the jungle,” he agreed.

Did he believe her? He’d stopped looking at her as if she belonged in the mental ward, so that had to be a good sign.

“If they abducted you for extortion, they would’ve contacted your family. Can I call someone? A spouse?”

“I’m not married.” An emotion she couldn’t identify flashed behind the agent’s brown eyes. “As for the rest of my family... There’s not really... It’s complicated.”

“Mother? Father?”

“I don’t know where he is. My mom isn’t reachable. She’s sick.” Why was she suddenly embarrassed by her dysfunctional family?

The better question might be when had she not been?

Emily remembered being scared to death she wouldn’t pass the background check required to work in her job for a major computer company. She’d had to get clearance since she entered data for various banks, some of which came from foreign interests. With a mom living in basically a cult and a dad who was MIA, Emily had feared she wouldn’t get through the first round with her prospective employer. Emily had always been responsible. She hadn’t even sampled marijuana in college as so many of her friends had. While all her classmates were “experimenting” and partying, she’d been working two jobs to pay tuition and make rent. Not that she was a saint. She just didn’t have spare time or energy to do anything besides work, study and sleep.

She had to keep a decent GPA, which didn’t leave a lot of time for anything else.

Heck, her college boyfriend had left her because she’d been too serious. He’d walked out, saying he wanted to be with someone more fun.

What was that?

Life hadn’t handed Emily “fun.” It had given her a deserter for a dad and a mom who was as sweet as she was lost.

Fun?

Emily clamped down a bitter laugh.

She’d had fun about as often as she’d had sex in the past year. And that really was a sad statement. Getting away, going to the beach, was supposed to represent a big step toward claiming her future and starting a new life.

“There’s no one we can call?” The agent’s voice brought her back to the present.

She shook her head. There was one name she could give him, her boss. She hated to do it. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize her job, but Jared could corroborate her story and then the agent would believe her. Possibly even let her go?

With the information she’d given the agent so far, she had a feeling she was going to need all the help she could get. “My boss.”

Agent Campbell pulled his cell from his pocket.

She gave him Jared’s number and took a deep breath.

* * *

REED PUNCHED IN the number the witness had given while he kept one eye on her.

She was still desperate, and there was an off chance she’d do something stupid, like run. He didn’t feel like chasing after her. He’d catch her. And then they’d be having a whole different conversation about her immediate future.

As it was, he figured a quick trip to Homeland Security would be all that was required. Minimal paperwork. Let them sort out the rest.

His years on the job told him she wasn’t a hard-core criminal. There was something about her situation, her, that ate at his insides. God help him.

“This is Jared,” came through the cell. His voice was crisp, and he sounded young. Early thirties.

Reed identified himself as a Border Patrol agent. “I’m calling to verify employment.”

“Then you’ll want to speak to HR.”

“I’d rather talk to you if it’s possible,” Reed interjected.

“That’s against policy—”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a matter of national security. You can clear something up for me. Save me a lot of time going through rigmarole, sir.” Reed listened for the telltale signs he’d convinced Jared.

A deep sigh came across the line.

Bingo. “Does Emily Baker work for you?”

“Yes, she does. Why? Is she all right?”

Reed picked up on the uncomfortable note in Jared’s voice. Was it curiosity or something more? “Is she there today?”

“No. She’s on vacation. Mexico, I think.”

Part of her story matched up. The woman sitting beside him could be anyone, though. He’d already caught her glimpsing his gun. Logic told him she was debating whether or not to make a run for it.

“Can you give me a description of Miss Baker?”

“Why? Did something happen to her?” Panic raised his tone an octave. Something told Reed the guy on the phone was interested in more than her work performance. Wasn’t he the caring boss? A twinge of jealousy shot through him. What was that all about?

She was vulnerable. Reed’s protective instincts jumped into overdrive. He was reacting as he would if this was one of his sisters, he told himself.

“No. Nothing to worry about, sir. Routine questions.” Reed hadn’t exactly lied. She was a witness.

“Okay. Good. Um, let’s see. She’s medium height, thin, light brown hair. She’s a runner, so, um, she has the build for it, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I get the reference.” How nice that her boss paid attention to her workout routine. Clearly, there was more to this story. An office affair? Disappointment settled over Reed for reasons he couldn’t explain. Why did he care whom she dated?

He reminded himself to focus on the case. This woman fit two-thirds of the description. It was obvious her hair had been bleached. The dye job was bad, and so was the cut. Her hair had been chopped off. Even so, she was beautiful.

And her legs were long and toned. She could be a runner. He made a mental note of the fact, in case she decided to bolt. It was easy to see she was in good physical condition, aside from events of the past few days.

She glanced around, antsy. Her expression set, determined, as she skimmed the docks. Was she working with someone? For someone?

Or was she just a few grains of sand short of a castle?

The tougher job was to assess her mental fitness. If she wasn’t involved in bringing guns into the country, and, really and truly, she would’ve been smart enough to have one loaded at the ready if she was, he had to consider the possibility she might be a danger to herself or others.

He’d witnessed all kinds of crazy.

In fact, in six years with Border Patrol, he’d seen just about everything. And a whole lot of nothing, too, especially when he was a rookie.

“Eye color?”

“Green, I think.”

They were hazel, but lots of people confused hazel with green or blue. The description was close enough. “Thank you, sir. That clears everything up.”

“She’ll be back to work next Monday, right?”

Reed figured the boss wanted the answer to his question more for personal reasons than anything else. “I don’t see why not.”

“And she’s okay? You’re sure?”

Another sprig of jealousy sprouted. “She is. That’s all the information I need. Have a nice—”

“I don’t want to ask anything inappropriate, but our job requires a certain level of security clearance. She hasn’t gone and done anything that might jeopardize her position at work, has she?”

“Why would she do that?” Reed knew she wasn’t telling him something, but he doubted she was involved in criminal activity. Couldn’t rule it out yet. Even though his instincts never lied, he preferred logic and evidence. Did this whole episode have to do with her job? What would she have to gain?

A relieved sigh came across the line. “She wouldn’t. At least, I don’t think she would. I guess you can never really tell about people, but I don’t have to tell you that. Not in your line of work.”

The man finally said something smart. “Desperate people can do all kinds of interesting things.”

“I’m sure. I already asked, but she’s okay, right?”

“Yeah. She’ll be back to work next week, and I’m sure she’ll explain everything then.” Reed ended the call.

“I lost my job, didn’t I?” She sounded defeated. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You didn’t tell me everything,” he hedged.

She repositioned in her seat.

“You’re tired and hungry, so I’m afraid you’re going to make a bad choice. Whatever you’re running from, I can help you.”

She deadpanned him. “No. You can’t.”

“Not if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“I won’t run. Please don’t take me in.” Her wide hazel eyes pleaded.

“There’s protocol for situations like these. You came into the country in a shipment full of guns. Who do they belong to?”

“I’d tell you if I knew.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“I need a name. They’ll take it easy on you if you cooperate.”

“Are you arresting me?” She glanced toward the field to her right.

Was she getting ready to make her move?

He started the engine, determined to keep her from making another mistake she’d regret. “Buckle up. We can finish this conversation over a burger.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you going to arrest me?” she repeated slowly, as if he was dim.

“No. Why? Do you plan on giving me a reason to?”

The drive to the nearest fast-food burger place was quiet. His passenger closed her eyes and laid her head back.

She didn’t open them when he pulled into the drive-through lane and ordered two burgers, two fries and two milkshakes at the speaker box.

Reed gripped the steering wheel tighter, thinking about what she’d been through in the past few days. He also realized she was keeping secrets. Professional curiosity had him wanting to find out what they were. Or was it something else?

He dismissed the idea as standing in the sun too long back at the docks. His interest in Emily Baker was purely professional.

At this point, he’d classify her as a witness. However, she was walking a fine line of being moved into another category—suspect—and she didn’t want to be there. He should probably haul her up to Homeland Security and be done.

But he couldn’t.

Something in those hazel eyes told him there was a bigger story, one that frightened her to the point of almost becoming mute.

If she talked, he might be able to track down gun runners, or get the connection he needed to stop another coyote from dumping illegals across the border. Heck, most died of dehydration before they ever reached their desired location. She was weak. No way was she illegal, but they used the same paths for everything from human trafficking to gun running. Besides, maybe she had information that could help him make a bust. The innocence and desperation in her voice had drawn him in. He needed to make sure she’d be okay.

He couldn’t turn his back on her any more than he could walk away from one of his sisters. Something about Emily brought out a similar protective instinct, but that’s where the similarities ended. Nothing else about her reminded him of his siblings.

After paying at the window, he accepted the food. There was a shady spot in the parking lot across the street. He pulled into it and parked.

She blinked her eyes open when he cut off the engine.

He unwrapped a burger and handed it to her. “It’s not steak, but it should help with your hunger.”

Her eyes lit up as she took the offering. “That smells nothing short of amazing.”

A few bites into her meal, she set her burger down. “I don’t understand. I’m famished but I can’t finish it.”

Poor thing was starving. Another fact in this case that made Reed want to punch something.

It was one thing for traffickers and drug pushers to maim and kill each other, but to drag women and children into their web made his fists clench and his jaw muscle tick. Five minutes alone with any one of them, and he’d leave his badge and gun outside the door.

“That was the best food I’ve ever had,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Ouch. Sorry. I’m bleeding again.” She searched the empty food bag and seemed to fight back tears. “You’ve been really nice to me and I don’t want to get blood on your clean white shirt.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Reed handed her his napkin. “It’s an old shirt. A little blood won’t hurt anything.”

Her back was ramrod. He wasn’t any closer to getting her to trust him.

Maybe softening his approach would work. “Believe me when I say I’ve had to clean up worse than that. The shirt’s yours. Keep it.”

She apologized again. Her bottom lip quivered, indicating she was probably on the brink of losing it. Who could blame her? She’d been amazingly strong so far.

For now, the person of interest in his passenger seat was safe and calm. She’d had a few minutes to think about where she might end up if she didn’t give him something to work with. “Why’d they really hit you?”

She searched nearby shrubs and buildings as if expecting the men who’d hurt her to jump out from behind one.

Fear was a powerful tool.

Whoever hurt her did a good job of making her believe he’d come back for more if she gave him up. “I know this is tough. Believe me. But it’s the only way I can help you.”

She brought her hands up to rub her temples and trained her gaze on the patch of cement in front of the Jeep. She was teetering on the edge.

He was getting close to a breakthrough. “They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. I don’t care what they threatened. The US government is bigger than whoever did this to you.”

A few tears fell, streaking her cheeks.

“Whatever they said, don’t believe them.”

She dropped her hands to her lap, and then turned toward him. Her hazel eyes pierced right through him. “You give me your personal promise to protect me?”

Chapter Three

If Agent Campbell made one wrong blink, Emily had already decided she’d bolt. She’d put it out there and asked him to make a commitment. Now it was his turn to make a move.

“It’s my job to—”

“I want to know if you promise to protect me. And not just because of your badge.” Even though he was a stranger, everything about the agent next to her said he was a man of his word. If he made a personal pledge, she’d trust him a little.

He finished chewing his bite of hamburger and swallowed before he set his food on the wrapper and used a napkin to clean his hands.

“My name is Reed, and you have my word.” He stuck his hand out between them.

She took it, knowing she shouldn’t. There was no way he could guarantee her safety. The instant they’d made contact, a spark ran between them. She didn’t withdraw her hand. Neither did he.

Their eyes locked, and she felt another jolt. An underlying sexual current simmered between them, which was shocking given what she’d been through. He was the first person in ages who’d expressed interest in helping and protecting her, she reasoned, and it felt nice to have that.

Under different circumstances, she might enjoy the spark. Not now. All she could think about was getting out of this mess and going into hiding.

Another thing was certain. By the set of his jaw, she could tell that Reed Campbell meant what he said. No doubt about it. Could he deliver against a rebel faction that could have law enforcement officers bought and paid for?

He looked like the kind of man who, once he gave his word, would die trying to deliver on his commitments. And something about the depths of his eyes had her wanting to move a little closer toward his strength, his light.

All her danger signals flared.

Getting too close to a man who could have her locked up was a bad idea, no matter how much honesty radiated from his brown eyes.

His cell buzzed, and she pulled her hand back, breaking their grasp.

A half-eaten burger sat on his knee on top of the wrapper. He answered the call, keeping his gaze on her.

Was he afraid she’d take off? He had to know she’d scatter like a squirrel at one loud noise.

At six-two with muscles for days, he must realize he could be physically intimidating. Was that why he seemed to make so much of an effort to keep her calm?

Against her better judgment, it was working. She felt a sense of being protected with him near. A luxury she couldn’t afford.

“Uh-huh, I have her right here,” he said. His gaze narrowed.

Trouble?

“Thanks, but I’ve got this one.”

Was someone offering to take her off his hands? This seemed out of the blue. No way could it be standard procedure.

A shudder of fear roared through her. She folded her arms to stave off the chill skittering across her skin.

“No, I’m sure.” He shook his head as if for emphasis. “We’re heading northbound on I-45. Why?”

Emily’s chest squeezed, and she knew something was wrong. Agent Campbell gave the person on the phone the wrong location. Why would he do that?

“Will do.” Agent Campbell ended his call.

“Who was that?”

He sat looking dumbfounded for a second. “That was odd. Agent Stephen Taylor volunteered to meet me and take you off my hands. Said he was headed in and it wouldn’t be any trouble to take you along with him.”

“I don’t know this area at all, but we’re sitting in a parking lot, and you told him we were on the highway. Why?”

Using the paper wrap, he wadded up the few bites of hamburger he had left and tossed it in the bag. “That call doesn’t sit right. Something’s off.”

Emily gasped. “That can’t be normal.”

“Nope. Never happened to me before in six years of service.” He checked his rearview mirror.

The last thing Emily wanted to do was tell the agent more about what had happened to her. In fact, she’d like to be able to forget it altogether. But both of their lives were in danger now, and he deserved to know the risk he was taking. “There was a man back in Mexico. They called him Dueño. He promised to...”

Saying the words out loud proved harder than she expected. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.

Gray clouds rolled in from the coast as the winds picked up speed.

The agent sat quietly, hands resting on the steering wheel, giving her the space she needed to find the courage to tell him the rest.

“To find me no matter what. I know he has law enforcement on his payroll. I overheard them talking about it.”

Agent Campbell started the ignition, and eased the Jeep into traffic. “They give any names?”

His rich timbre was laced with anger. She could imagine how an honest man like him would take it personally if one of his own was on the take. “No. All I knew was that once I got away from him, I had to disappear. I couldn’t trust law enforcement or anyone else. That’s why I can’t let you take me in. I’m begging you to let me go.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Hate to believe agents are on the take.” He looked to be searching his memory as he narrowed his gaze onto the stretch of road in front of them. He muttered a string of curse words. “There have been a few articles in the paper hinting at the possibility. The department issued a warning. We’d picked up a few bad eggs during a hiring surge, but we’ve been assured they were weeded out.”

“You take me in and he’ll get to me. He has people on the inside. I can identify him and testify. They’ll kill me.”

“Slow down. I’m not going to let that happen. We can figure this out.”

“They won’t stop until they find me.”

“Which is why it’s a bad idea for me to let you go. At least while you’re with me, I can protect you.”

“Can’t you tell your department you let me go?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have to. I know what they wanted when they targeted me. There’s a fortune on the line.”

“Hold on a sec. You led me to believe this was random,” he said. His eyes flashed anger.

“I’m sorry. I lied. I wasn’t sure if I could trust you before.” She had to now.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. His gaze intensified. “What else?”

“They wanted my passwords. I work at a computer company. We keep account information secure for big banking institutions. I’m sure they planned on moving money.”

“Cybercrime can be harder to track if they know what they’re doing. Why didn’t you just give them the passwords and save yourself?”

She deadpanned him. “I figured they’d kill me either way. Even so, I couldn’t give them passwords if I’d wanted to. I always change them before I leave for vacation. I didn’t have my new ones memorized.”

“He beat you because he didn’t believe you.”

“Not for a second.”

“I’m assuming you have your codes written down somewhere?”

She nodded. A thought struck her. “What if they get to my place and find them? I’m sure they knew where I lived.”

Agent Campbell’s cell buzzed again. He put on his turn signal, moved into the left turn lane and then shot a glance at her before answering. He turned on his hazard lights, even though there were no cars coming.

Thunder rumbled louder. A storm was coming.

“Yes, sir, I heard from the agent.”

There was a long pause.

“No, I didn’t turn over the witness. I can run her in to make a statement.”

Emily slipped her hand as close to the seat belt release button as she could without drawing attention. Her pulse kicked up a notch.

A light rain started, nothing more than a spring shower. The glorious liquid spotted the windshield.

She had enough sustenance in her to manage a good sprint. Would it be enough to get away? Her feet still ached and her head pounded. A good night of sleep, some medicine, and she’d recover. But would her body give her what she needed to get away now?

Possibilities clicked through her mind.

If she made a run for it, could she disappear in the neighboring subdivision? Maybe hide in a parked car?

The capable agent in the seat next to her would catch her. His muscled thighs said he could outrun her if he needed to. One look at the ripple of muscles underneath his shirtsleeve said he was much stronger than she.

Might be a risk she’d have to take.

Stay there and she’d be dead in an hour if he followed through with his plans to take her to Homeland Security. One of the men in Dueño’s pocket would alert him to her whereabouts, and they’d be ready for her when she walked outside.

The best chance she had would be to make a move right now while Agent Campbell was distracted by his phone call. If she were smart, she’d unbuckle and run like hell.

“I didn’t say she was a suspect, sir.”

Her heart jackhammered in her chest. Should she bolt?

* * *

REED GLANCED OVER at Emily. Her back was stiff, her breathing rapid and shallow. He covered her hand with his, and she relaxed a little. A smile quirked the corner of his lip.

“I can take this one, sir. Not a problem.”

Confident he’d convinced his boss, Reed ended the call. A rogue agent was a dangerous thing. Reed could personally attest to that.

This one had involved his boss, who was being played. The agent who’d tried to get his hands on Emily wouldn’t be allowed to have his way.

“Your boss wanted you to hand me over to someone else, didn’t he?”

Reed nodded.

“Could going against your boss cost your job?”

He wasn’t sure why he chuckled. “Yeah.”

“You’re willing to take that risk to help me?”

“It’s my duty.” “Honor First” was more than words on a page to Reed.

Emily leaned against the seat and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Then, what do we do next?”

“Good question.”

Reed checked the rearview and saw a truck screaming toward them.

He banked a U-turn in time to see a metal shotgun barrel aimed at them.

Emily must’ve seen it, too, because she yelped.

“Get down on the floorboard. Now.”

A boom split the air.

Reed gunned the gas pedal, made a U-turn and then hooked a right, blazing through the empty parking lot. For a split second, time warped and the memory of being shot and left for dead blitzed him.

A walk down Memory Lane would have to wait. He battled against the heavy thoughts, blocking them out. If he lived, correction, when he got them out of this mess, he’d deal with those. Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen.

The reality was that he’d had plenty of time since returning to work to rationalize his feelings. Doing that ranked about as high on his list as shoveling cow manure out of the barn at Gran’s place. He took that back. Shoveling cow manure was far more appealing.

Reed glanced at Emily, who was not more than a ball in the floorboard. Her face scrunched in pain from being forced to move. The thought of doubling her agony lanced his chest. “Hang tight. I’ll get us to safety soon.”

She glanced at him through fearful hazel eyes. “Maybe we should break up. I can hide on my own. Might be better now that they know we’re together.”

Was she still worried he’d run her in? Handing her over to his agency would only put her in more jeopardy. “Not a chance.”

Anxiety and fear played across her features.

A need to protect Emily surged, catching Reed off guard, because it ran deeper than his professional oath. He knew exactly what it was like to be in her position—to be the target of someone who had a dirty agent in their pocket. Reed had a bullet hole in his back to prove it.

“I’m your best option right now. And I’m not ready to let you out of my sight.”

Chapter Four

Pain rippled through Emily’s bruised and battered body as she crouched low and hugged her knees into her chest, making herself as small as possible in the floorboard. One of her ribs had to be cracked. The sharp pain in her chest sliced through her thoughts. Being run through a cheese grater would hurt less than the bruises on her face and body.

The agent, Reed, had said she could trust him. He’d said the magic words—he wasn’t hauling her butt in to Homeland Security. And yet, her internal alarm system was still set to red alert. Why? What was it about him that had her wanting to run? Was it the alarming comfort his presence brought?

Sporadic turns and the sound of another shotgun blast said they still had company. Emily didn’t dare try to peek even though her tightly coiled nerves might break at any moment if she didn’t know what was happening. Even so, she doubted her body would be able to respond to her brain’s command to get up.

Reed swerved the car left and then made a hard right. “Wish I’d been alone when I found you. That would make things less complicated.”

“Would you have believed me?”

His compressed frown said it all. No, he wouldn’t have. “I owe you an apology for that.”

“I don’t blame you. I’m sure you deal with all kinds of crazy people in your work.”

“Most have nothing to lose when they run into me. And I’ve learned logic is a better resource than instinct.”

He was used to being shot at? That revelation shouldn’t reassure her. Oddly enough, that’s exactly what it did. Maybe because she had no clues how to escape armed men or dodge bullets and there was no way she’d still be alive without his expertise. Her world had been catapulted into a whole new stratosphere of danger. Having a man around who knew how to use a gun and was on her side didn’t seem like the worst thing that could happen.

Yet, depending on anyone was foreign to her. Thoughts of too many hours of her childhood spent crouched low in the corner behind her bed while her mother experienced “free love” in the next room assaulted Emily. She’d been old enough to remember what it was like to live in a suburb with a normal family and a father whom she believed loved her. Her fairy-tale world had ended the day he left. Emily squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to block out the memory.

Emily slowly counted to a hundred to keep her mind busy, refusing to let fear seize her when more bullets came at them. They pinged by her head tat-tat-tat style, and she knew by the sound difference that whoever was chasing them had changed weapons.

“I can lose them around this bend or when I get on this highway. This turn is going to get hairy, so hang on.”

Chancing a glance at Reed, seeing someone who wasn’t afraid, held her nerves a notch below panic. However, the contents of her stomach retaliated at the high rate of speed combined with sharp turns. She’d probably eaten too fast because the burger and milkshake churned. “Are they still back there?”

“Get back in the seat belt. The threat has tripled, and we’re going to sustain a hit.” The authority in his voice sent a trill of worry through her.

“Okay.” She struggled to move, wincing as she planted one hand on the glove compartment and the other on the seat, praying she could gain enough leverage to push herself up from her awkward position on the floorboard. Her arms gave out and she landed hard, racking up another bruise on her hip.

A glance at Reed said they were almost out of time.

“Brace yourself for impact.” He tapped the brake and swerved.

Emily lurched forward, her head caught by Reed’s right hand moments before it hit the dash. Pushing through the pain, she pressed up to the seat and quickly fastened the belt over her shoulder.

Large SUVs pulled on each side of them as the truck she recognized from earlier roared up from behind.

The quick look Reed shot her next said whatever was about to happen wasn’t going to be good. He floored the gas pedal, shooting out front. Temporarily.

On the right, the SUV hit the brakes. The one on the left barreled beside them, keeping pace.

The window of opportunity to hop onto the freeway and lose these guys was closing with the SUV on the left blocking the on-ramp.

A bumper crunched against the back of the Jeep. Emily’s head whipped forward.

Dueño’s reach had long arms. Just as he had promised. Could Emily envision a life on the run? No. She’d fought too hard to put down roots. She’d found a new city, bought a town house and worked her butt off to be next in line for her boss’s job. Dueño was forcing her into a different direction. Anger burned through her.

Another hard jerk of the steering wheel and Emily felt herself tumbling, spinning.

Reed’s rich timbre penetrated the out-of-control Ferris wheel. “Relax as much as you can.”

Time temporarily suspended. Emily drifted out of her own body as the spinning slowed, and then stopped.

Everything went black, but she still could hear shouting. Someone was yelling at her. A deeply masculine voice called. She coughed and blinked her eyes open.

Smoke was everywhere.

Everything burned. Her nose. Her eyes. Her throat.

Her body might’ve stopped spinning, but her head hadn’t.

“Emily. Stay with me.” The voice came from a tunnel filled with light.

Or did it?

There was something comforting about the large physical presence near her.

“Emily. I need you to try to move.” A sense of urgency tinged the apologetic tone.

Her response came out as a croak. She tried harder to open her eyes and gain her bearings.

Sirens sounded in the distance a few moments after she heard another pop of gunfire. The men. Oh, no. All at once she remembered being on the run. Their car had been forced off the road, while speeding, and thrown into a dangerous spin. The Jeep had rolled. And that voice calling her belonged to Border Patrol Agent Reed Campbell.

Her eyes shot open.

Heat from a fire blazed toward her. Flames licked at her skin. Thick smoke filled her lungs.

She was trapped in a burning car while men shot at her. It took another few precious seconds for her to realize she was upside down. At least the inferno kept the men at bay, except for Reed. He was right by her side. An unfamiliar feeling stuck in her chest at the thought someone actually had her back for a change. Emily wanted to gravitate toward the pleasant emotion, except she couldn’t move. She wiggled her hips, hoping to break free. No luck.

The seat belt must be stuck.

There was no feeling in her legs. She tamped down panic, knowing full well that couldn’t be good. Even if she could work the belt free, which she was trying with both hands, how would she run?

She’d have to solve that puzzle when she came to it.

“Take this.” A shiny metal object was being thrust at her through the thick wall of smoke separating her from the agent.

Reed’s face was covered in ashes and worry lines. Blood dripped down his cheek from a cut on his forehead. There was compassion in his clear brown eyes and what appeared to be fear.

She took the offering, a knife.

“Cut yourself free.” His arms cradled her shoulders.

“Okay.” She shot him a scared look.

“I’ll catch you. I won’t let you get hurt.”

Her gaze widened at the figure moving toward them. “Behind you.”

The agent turned and fired his weapon.

She worked the knife against the fabric, wanting to be ready, knowing they were out of time.

Sirens split the air.

Reed turned his attention back to her as soon as the man disappeared. “I’m ready. Go.”

The last patch of thread cut easily. Emily didn’t want to think about how good his hands felt on her as he pulled her from the burning Jeep across the hard, unforgiving earth. Or how nice it was to have someone in her corner.

The head of the House believed placing labels on people degraded them, so he simply called her girl. Her mom soon followed his lead.

Growing up in a house full of free love and short on anything meaningful, like her mother’s laughter, had made Emily wary and distrustful of people. Watching her mom adopt the long hair and threadbare clothes everyone in the House wore made Emily feel even more distanced from everything familiar.

In the twelve years Emily had lived there, her mom had six children by various housemates. It had been like living in a time warp. Apparently, the label “Father” was also degrading because no one stepped up to help care for the little ones, save for Emily. She’d taken care of the children until one of the men had decided that at seventeen she was old enough to learn about free love. She’d fought back, escaped and then ran.

Emily had learned quickly the outside world could be harsh, too.

With no friends on the streets, she’d had to fight off men who confused her homelessness for prostitution. Her first stroke of luck had come when she found a flier for a shelter that handed out free breakfast. A worker there had told her about the nearby shelter for teens. For the first time since leaving Texas as a child, Emily had her own room.

All her life savings, money she’d made from her job at the local movie theater, was hidden in the House. Emily had saved every penny. Needing a fresh start, she’d slipped into the House, took her life savings and then bought a bus ticket to Dallas, where she could return home and put down roots.

By the time she’d finished a few college courses and gotten a decent job, her half siblings had scattered across the country, and she heard from her mother mostly when she needed something.

No matter how honest and pure the agent looked, Emily knew not to get too comfortable.

Feeling vulnerable out in the open, she searched for the men. Where were they?

She glanced around, half expecting more gunfire. Instead, EMTs ran toward them and all she could hear was the glorious thunder of their footsteps.

But, where was Reed?

Then she saw him. He lay flat on his back and her chest squeezed when she saw how much blood soaked his shirt. One set of EMTs rushed to him, blocking her view. Another went to work on her as firemen put out the blaze.

The cavalry had arrived.

But how long before Dueño’s men returned to finish the job?

Emily needed a plan.

Heaven knew she could never rely on her mother. The woman had shattered when Emily’s father left. Even then, Emily knew she needed to help her mother. The woman couldn’t do much for herself in the broken state she was in. When she’d finally forced herself out of bed, a neighbor introduced her to “a new way of thinking.”

It wasn’t long before Emily’s mom packed the pair of them up and moved to California to live in the House. Emily had been excited about the promise of perpetual sunshine, but her enthusiasm was short-lived when she figured out no one ever left the grounds except in groups to shop for food.

Which was why she couldn’t afford to rely on the agent much longer. Especially not the way he stirred confusing feelings inside her that had no business surfacing. She knew where that would end up.

* * *

REED STRIPPED OFF the oxygen mask covering his face. “I’m fine.”

“Can you tell me what day it is?” the young EMT asked.

“Monday. And I know I’ve been in an accident. I was forced off the road by another vehicle. I have to call local police to file a report.” He reached for his phone, needing an excuse to step away and make eye contact with Emily. He wanted to know she’d be okay. Men were huddled around her, working on her. Reed tamped down the unexpected jolt of anxiety tensing his shoulders. “What’s going on with my witness? She’ll be okay, right?”

“We’ll know in a few minutes.”

Not good enough. Reed had to know now. He pushed off the back of the truck.

The EMT stepped in front of Reed. “Sir, that’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? Is she hurt badly?” The young guy was big, worked out, but Reed had no doubts he could take the guy down if necessary. Reed’s hands fisted. His jaw muscle twitched.

“The others are working on her. I’m talking about you. I’d like to finish my exam, if that’s okay.”

The guy seemed to know Reed could take him down in a heartbeat. He reminded himself to stay cool. The EMT was only doing his job. No point in making it any harder for him.

Reed fished his wallet out of his pocket and produced his identification. “Name’s Reed Campbell. I’m a Border Patrol agent. I have two brothers and two sisters. It’s Monday at...” He checked his watch. “Four o’clock.”

“Good. I think it’s safe to say you didn’t suffer a concussion. Will you let me patch up your forehead before you go, and let me take a look at what’s causing all that blood on your shirt?” the young guy asked, resigned.

“Can’t hurt.” He sat still long enough for his gashes to be cleaned and bandaged.

“I still think it’s a good idea for you to go to the hospital.”

“I plan to.” His gaze fixed on the team working on Emily.

“As a patient.”

“I promise to get checked out if I take a turn for the worse.”

“No changing your mind?”

“I appreciate all you’re doing for me, but I’m more worried about her.”

Reluctantly, the EMT produced papers. “Then I need your autograph on these. They say you received basic treatment at the scene and refused to be taken in for further medical evaluation.”

Reed took them and signed off, uneasy that Emily was still surrounded by a busy team of workers. If someone on the inside of his agency was helping Dueño, Reed couldn’t chance his phone being hacked. His best bet was to play it cool with the EMT and pretend his had taken a hit. “Any chance I can borrow your phone? Mine’s a casualty of the wreck, and I need to check in with my boss.”

The worker nodded, handing over his cell.

They needed transportation, and Reed trusted a handful of people right now—most of whom shared his last name. His brothers were in North Texas, too far to catch a ride. His boss was his best bet. After being shot in the line of duty, Reed knew he could trust Gil. And with any luck, no one would be listening in on his boss’s phone, either. Reed would play it cool just in case.

Gil picked up on the second ring.

“It’s Reed. I had to borrow a phone. I don’t have time to explain, but I need a car.” There’d be a mountain of paperwork to deal with when this was settled.

“Where are you?”

“My Jeep’s been totaled. I was chased off the road. This is big, Gil. Fingers are reaching out from over the border.” Reed kept the name to himself to be on the safe side.

Gil muttered a curse.

“We need to be careful here,” Reed warned. “We might have another Cal situation on our hands.”

Gil grunted. “I’ll have transportation waiting for you... Wait, let me think.”

“How about the little place you like to visit on special Thursdays?” The Pelican restaurant in Galveston was Gil’s wife’s favorite seafood spot. He took her there every anniversary and occasionally on Thursday nights for their catfish special. Gil didn’t go out on Fridays. Said it was too crowded. Few people knew Gil’s habits the way Reed did. He’d learned a lot about his boss during the man’s visits to the hospital after Reed was shot.

“Got it.”

“Leave the keys so I can find them. The usual spot.”

“Okay.”

Keys would be under the sink in the bathroom. Reed glanced at Emily. The EMTs were still surrounding her. They’d want to take her to the hospital. With the amount of smoke she’d inhaled and the possible swelling, it was probably a good idea. “Can you get ahold of the local police chief? I’d like a fresh set of eyes on us at the hospital.”

“I’ll make the call myself from Vickie’s personal cell.”

His admin’s number should be safe. “Appreciate it.”

“You need a place to stay in the meantime?”

“I’ll figure it out. Besides, the less I involve the department, the better. Probably best if I branch out on my own for this one.” And he had no intention of leaving Emily for a second. These guys were relentless and she was scared. Not a good combination. If she made one mistake it’d be game over. The thought sent a lead fireball swirling down Reed’s chest. Didn’t need to get inside his head about why his reaction to the thought of anything happening to her was so strong. Reed passed it off as needing to keep his promises.

Gil paused. “Be careful.”

“You know it.” Reed ended the call. Now all he had to figure out was how to get to the bank and withdraw enough money to get by for a while. Then he’d need transportation from the hospital to The Pelican. No way could Emily walk in her current condition. She’d need time to rest and heal.

They didn’t have the luxury of either.

Whoever was after her meant business.

The EMTs loaded her into the ambulance. Reed pushed through and took the step in an easy stride.

He was instantly pulled back.

“Sorry. It’s policy. No one rides in back except us,” one of the men said. He was older than the guy who’d worked on Reed.

“No exceptions?”

“Afraid not. How about you take a seat up front? We’ve already called a tow truck for your vehicle.”

Reed nodded, not really liking the thought of being separated from Emily. Anything could happen to her in the back if those men were waiting, or worse yet, ambushed the ambulance.

Climbing into the cab, he told himself he cared only for professional reasons. The chance to nab a jerk who would do this to a woman fueled his need to protect her. And that it had nothing at all to do with the fact those hazel eyes of hers would haunt him in his sleep if he walked away.

Now that he knew her story had merit, he wanted to know more about her. It had everything to do with arming himself with knowledge that might just save both of their lives and nothing to do with the place in his heart she stirred, he lied.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.