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As if that courage had abruptly kicked in to full throttle, she turned on him, green eyes blazing as hotly as that mane of red hair. “What kind of trouble are you in—” her lips tightened “—whoever you are?”
“Sit.” He gestured to the bed.
Her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not taking any more orders until you answer my questions.”
Weariness hit him hard. Or maybe it was the drain of having her look at him that way. Funny, his entire life he’d never cared what anyone thought of him. He’d stopped caring about that kind of thing by the time he was seven. By twelve he would have killed anyone who got in his way like this. That he tolerated it now startled him still. His indulgence of this unfamiliar aspect of human bonding the past two years was the biggest surprise of all. He’d spent endless hours making this lonely, hardworking woman want him as she had never wanted anyone before. After that, he’d told himself that stringing her along was necessary for his cover.
As it turned out, he had been the fool.
He contemplated drawing his weapon to gain her cooperation, but he lacked sufficient motivation. Instead, he dropped into the chair by the window. The room was a little cold, so he turned on the heat. The box beneath the window rumbled then shook with the effort of noisily blowing out stale air.
“I mean it,” she warned when he turned his attention to her once more. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m walking out that door.”
He dropped his head back on the chair and deliberated as to which lie to offer. There were so many. So many, in fact, that he had to think hard to sift out the most recent ones. Counting the water stains on the ceiling distracted him for a moment. The stains were dark and without uniformity or pattern. Like his life.
As good as her word, Maggie started for the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed his chair. Her gaze collided with his. She was just mad enough to call his bluff. Another funny thing. He never bluffed.
His lapse into the mundane was going to get him killed. And anyone else who had the misfortune of being with or connected to him.
“Maggie, sit down.”
She stared at him for an endless moment before relenting. With a frustrated about-face she stamped to the bed and sat, arms still crossed, one foot patting against the ragged, once-beige carpet.
With a heavy breath he settled his eyes on hers. “The people who hit the brownstone—”
“You mean the ones who blew it up?” she snapped. “That’s what they did, Slade. They blew it up.” She gestured in frustration. “Innocent people may have been injured or killed.”
He reached for patience. “No one was injured or killed.”
“How do you know?” She shot to her feet. “You can’t know!”
“I have a contact who’s keeping me informed.” He’d received two messages since they left Chicago. Unless an unauthorized person had been inside the buildings on either side of the brownstone that housed the Equalizer offices, no one had been hurt.
Maggie dropped back down to the mattress. “That’s one good thing.”
He had her attention, so he might as well get to the point. “I need you to stay here for a few days.” Her eyes grew rounder with each word he said. “Until the dust settles. When it’s safe for you to go home, I’ll give you the all clear.”
MAGGIE TOOK A MOMENT TO calm the outrage and indignation mounting inside her. She had decided that he had no intention of killing her or he surely would have by now. Still, pushing the issue wouldn’t be smart. God knew, she’d been wrong about him all this time, so what made her think she knew anything now?
“Where are you going?” Someone obviously wanted him dead. Was he going to go up against whoever this was alone? She tried her best to ignore the weight on her chest. Why did she care? If she were smart she would let him go and then get out of here as fast as possible. “Who did this? What do they want?”
He braced his forearms on his spread thighs. His unusually dark gray eyes studied hers. “The person responsible for what you witnessed tonight has been looking for me for a very long time. I can’t evade her any longer. When this—”
“Her?” Maggie felt her brow furrow in confusion. The person responsible for this insanity was a woman? An old lover? Jealousy flooded her, washing away the harsher emotions she’d hoped to hang on to.
“The less you know,” he advised in that deep voice that curled around her like a warm, familiar blanket, “the better. You’re already a target simply by virtue of the fact that you’ve been seen with me.”
Maggie’s head started to spin. She felt sick to her stomach. How had she gotten herself into this? “I don’t understand.”
“You have to believe me when I say that she will stop at nothing to get to me. Anyone in her path will go down, too. Anyone she believes she can use to get to me will suffer an even worse fate.”
Maggie hugged herself more tightly. Her fingernails bit into her skin despite the sweater she wore. “What kind of person has enemies like that?” She wasn’t totally naive. She watched the news. There were bad people out there. All kinds. But was this about drugs? Guns? Stolen goods? Murder? An angry client of his private-investigations business? Or some past business dealings? What?
She held his gaze, her insides raging with an agonizing twist of emotions. This man was the father of her child. Yet she had no idea why someone would want to kill him. She didn’t know him at all.
As if sensing her thoughts, he looked away. “The kind of person you don’t want to know.”
As cold as he’d been from the moment their gazes locked in her rearview mirror, just now she heard something almost like vulnerability in his voice. But that was impossible. Just her imagination. She wanted to hear real emotion and that wasn’t going to happen.
“I’d say it’s a little late for that.” He’d been dragging her heart around for almost two years now. This wasn’t the time to suggest she didn’t want to know him. He’d stolen that option from her a long time ago.
Slade pushed to his feet. “There’s nothing I can do to change that now.” He nudged the curtain aside and stared into the night.
“So that’s it.” She shook her head. “You steal two years of my life and then you tell me there’s nothing you can do to make this right.” Hysteria had edged into her voice. She forced it back. “What does that make you, Slade?” A user, she didn’t say. But it was true. He’d used her to get close to Victoria and Lucas. She understood that part now. If her friends at the Colby Agency were in danger it would be her fault. That confounded quaking started deep inside her once more.
He had weaseled his way into her life for a reason. Something that involved the Colby Agency. Maggie had a right to some answers.
“Why the Colby Agency? They’re good people. What could they possibly have done to you?”
He turned around, his face a hard mask she couldn’t hope to read. “You think you know people, but you don’t. Can you really be certain they’re good people? Can you? Really?”
“Of course I can,” she retorted without hesitation. “It’s you I don’t know.”
“At least we agree on something.”
Maggie dared to take two steps toward him. His gaze narrowed. “You made me love you.” Her throat tried to close. She fought the aching emotions. “Just so you could do whatever it was you came to Chicago to do.”
More of the dingy carpet between them disappeared as he took a step toward her, matching her stance. The air vanished from her lungs. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to do.”
The tremors grew stronger. She struggled to restrain the visible shaking. “You never felt anything for me, did you?” How could she love the wrong man twice in her life? Hadn’t she learned anything the first time around? That part hurt the most. Knowing that she loved him so much and he felt nothing at all.
“Listen to me carefully, Maggie.”
He touched her. She couldn’t bear it. She drew away.
His hand dropped to his sid
e. “You have one chance at surviving this. If you do exactly as I say, you’ll be safe.”
As though she would trust anything he said. She laughed. “You said yourself that she’d seen me with you. What’s to keep her from coming after me once you’re gone?” And what would happen to him? Would he be able to win against this woman who had sought him for so long? Misery writhed inside Maggie. The idea that her child would never know his or her father abruptly tore at her with staggering viciousness.
“I won’t let that happen.”
How could he make such a promise? “You can’t guarantee my safety.” If that were the case, they wouldn’t be holed up in this hovel. Was he kidding her or himself?
“It’s me she wants,” he said, his voice weary. “As long as you stay out of the way you’ll be safe.”
He wasn’t going to give her any answers. This man she had come to love was going to leave her and she would never know if he was dead or alive.
“Then go.” She pointed to the door. “Just go.”
“Don’t call anyone you know. Don’t leave except to get food from the café next door.” He held up his hands for emphasis. “No matter what you hear or see, just stay put until I tell you otherwise.”
The pain that coiled inside her as he reached for his bag was very nearly unbearable. How could she just let him go like this? But wasn’t that what she wanted? To be free of him? She couldn’t trust him. She didn’t even know who he was. Her baby would be better off without him. She would be better off.
Then why did it feel as though her world was crashing to an end with every step he took?
He hesitated at the door.
Maggie felt as if her very bones had crumbled, leaving her helpless and unable to move.
Slade turned, his gaze settled on her and he strode back to where she stood. His hand closed around her neck and he pulled her close. He kissed her hard. Made her melt against his body. How could she spend the rest of her life without him?
By the time he drew his lips from hers she was gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You make me wish I was someone else.”
He tucked something into her jacket pocket and walked away.
Fiery tears flowed down her cheeks. She would never see him again, never—
The window shattered, raining glass into the room.
Slade spun around, lunged toward her, taking her to the floor and covering her body with his.
“Stay down.”
Her heart seized when he scrambled to the bedside table and turned off the lamp. Something thunked against the wall near the bed. Was someone shooting at them? There hadn’t been any gunshot blasts.
He moved in close to her in the darkness. “There’s a window in the bathroom. You may have to break it to get out.”
Was he sending her out the back way alone? Fear crowded into her throat, choking off the air to her lungs. “But what will you—”
“Listen to me, Maggie.”
The base of the lamp on the bedside table burst. Maggie screamed.
“I’m going out that door to draw them away. I’ll fire three shots in a row when it’s clear for you to go out the back. Run as far into the woods as you can and stay there until you hear sirens. The police will come.”
Before she could argue, he was opening the door.
A bullet thwacked into the doorjamb just above his head. Fear crammed into her chest.
Maggie struggled with the need to run after him. But she had to protect her baby. She crawled to the bathroom, crept inside and closed the door.
For long seconds or minutes, she couldn’t say for sure which, she sat on the floor, her back against the wall, and tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded so fast it hurt.
She prayed hard for her child’s protection. For Slade’s protection. She checked her pocket to see what he’d put there, part of her hoping for a note that explained everything. Cash. She closed her eyes and fought the wave of tears.
A sharp sound cut through the silence. Then a second gunshot. A third rang out and her muscles instinctively reacted. She sprang to her feet and felt for the window. It was large enough, but the lower sash didn’t want to budge. She double-checked that it was unlocked, then pushed upward with every ounce of strength in her body.
The window slowly slid up.
She listened for a moment, then climbed onto the closed toilet lid and thrust her head out the window. It was dark as pitch behind the motel. Trees crowded close to the back of the building.
Maggie scrambled out, almost falling in her haste. When her feet were firmly on the ground, she steadied herself and started toward the woods.
Another gunshot echoed in the night.
Did that mean Slade was still okay? The other weapons hadn’t made that sound.
“Well, well,” a male voice—not Slade’s—announced from behind her. Something hard nudged her in the back. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
A scream withered in her throat.
“That’s what I thought,” he taunted. “Nowhere. Now, get down on your knees and I’ll make this quick.”
Maggie had no weapon. She couldn’t even seem to scream.
He was going to kill her even if she did exactly as he said.
Maggie ran. She burst forward like a racehorse let loose from the starting gate. The ground seemed to move under her feet even as she leaned forward to advance her escape. Every muscle in her body tensed, waiting for the inevitable burn of hot lead piercing her skin.
A blast ricocheted in her ears.
She stumbled and fell face-first to the ground.
Chapter Four
The air exited Slade’s lungs.
The moon peeked from behind the clouds just enough to highlight Maggie’s body facedown on the ground. An unfamiliar sensation slammed into his gut. Was she hit?
He was at her side before the question stopped throbbing in his skull.
She grunted and started to push herself up.
The relief that roared through his veins sent a quake along his limbs. He helped her up, tried to see any injury despite the lack of decent light. “Maggie, did you take a hit?”
She pushed the hair out of her face and looked around. Her attention locked on the guy with the bullet in the back of his skull three feet from her and her breath caught. She made a panicked sound and stumbled back, her body trembling in fear.
There was no time for hysteria. Slade shook her even as he gave himself a mental shake. “Maggie, are you injured?”
She moved her head side to side. “No.” Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m okay. I think I’m okay.”
“We need to hurry.” He couldn’t wait for her to regain her equilibrium or take the time to check the dead guy for ID. They had to get out of here.
Maggie held up a hand. “Give me a second.” She swayed, took a breath and visibly attempted to steady herself.
Slade gritted his teeth and reached for patience. How the hell had she found him so quickly? His contact, no doubt. Bud McCain was the only resource in the States that Slade trusted fully. He’d intervened in Acapulco, ultimately saving the lives of Lucas Camp’s goddaughter and Colby Agency investigator Levi Stark. That move, however, had obviously put McCain on the Dragon’s radar. She had likely tracked him down and made him pay.
Fury raged in Slade’s gut. His best resource and friend, if he’d ever had one, was likely dead. There was no other explanation for her learning Slade’s plans. McCain would never have given up a single detail, but his cell phone or computer would have cyber tracks of where he’d been and what he’d done. A top-notch analyst would be able to find those tracks no matter how well hidden or how meticulously wiped. She would select only the very best in each field for her elite team. Damn her.
Slade should have killed her when he’d had the chance, but he’d scarcely been more than a kid. What does a child know of right versus wrong, bizarre versus normal?
Pushing aside the pointless obsessing, he quickly ticke
d off their options. Transportation to St. Louis might very well be compromised. The more immediate problem was getting out of here fast.
Slade swore as sirens wailed in the distance.
The car was out of the question now. The highway, too. The increasingly deafening blare of the approaching police made that all too clear.
Hiking his bag onto his shoulder, Slade surveyed the tree line.
The options were sorely limited. “You ready now?”
Maggie nodded.
Running was better than nothing.
Her hand tight in his, he sprinted into the woods.
MAGGIE STRUGGLED TO KEEP UP. Her chest heaved in desperation, but the air just wouldn’t find its way into her lungs. That man was dead…Slade had killed him. But the man had had a gun to her head. Would he have killed her if Slade hadn’t stopped him?
Yes.
Of that part she was sure. Sweet Lord, there was no escaping these people.
She couldn’t do this.
The police were coming to the motel. She’d heard the sirens. She and Slade should go back, explain the situation and get help. He couldn’t do this alone.
Maggie wrenched her hand free of his. The loss of momentum made her stumble. She hit the ground on her hands and knees. Before she could get up and run the other way, Slade was reaching for her.
“We can’t go back, Maggie.”
The trees blocked any prospect of light. She could make out his form but little else. What difference did it make? No matter how well she knew his eyes…his face…every part of him, she didn’t know him. The longer she allowed her foolish indecisiveness to drag out, the harder it would be to do the right thing. “I won’t do this.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m going back.” If she did the right thing, maybe he would, too.
Maggie turned around and did what she should have done hours ago. She walked away from the danger that was Slade Keaton.
“You have no reason to trust me.”
His words shouldn’t have stalled her next step, but they did. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She had more sense than this under normal circumstances. Had she lost her mind? She almost laughed out loud. What kind of question was that? Of course she had lost her mind!