Broken Wings: Red River Recovery, #2 6t3c4p

Broken Wings

Red River Recovery, Book 2

TL Schaefer

Contents

Praise for TL Schaefer’s books!

Character List

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Thank You!

About the Author

Also by TL Schaefer… visit www.tlschaefer.com/all-books/

Praise for TL Schaefer’s books!

RED RIVER RECOVERY Duck and Run “This fast-paced thriller will have you turning the pages late into the night.” “Loved this action-packed romantic suspense, lots of great characters and dialog.” CASI Series Behind Blue Eyes "Taut suspense, deep ion, and memorable characters left me breathless." "Once I started it, I couldn’t put it down." “I loved this book from cover to cover and look forward to reading more.” Shoot to Thrill “Highly recommend this riveting series! “ “If you like Nora Roberts or Linda Howard, you’ll like this series.” "This book is a thrill. It offers the perfect blend of mystery, suspense, and romance." "A thrill on every page. Don't read this if you're home alone." Lunatic Fringe

"WOW...all I can say is if you really enjoy page turning, heart racing, paranormal romance, then this is the book for you." "A nonstop, edge-of-your-seat, nail-biting read!" "The author combines intrigue, suspense and mystery to make this story so wonderful to read." MARIPOSA Series The Summerland "...spine-tingling suspense.” "The characters are believable, the plot fast and furious, and the ending is explosive! Thumbs up!" "... a great mystery to curl up and enjoy on a dark night." "If you enjoy suspense, murder mystery this is a highly recommended book." The Brotherhood "I am definitely a new fan." "Once I got started with this book I was completely addicted" "You can't go wrong with this entire series" The Paladin "A fabulous addition to the series!" "I highly recommend this series!" "Redemption and love mix into a story that is unique, full of mystery, suspense and romance." "The twists and turns of this tale will keep you reading long into the night."

"This is my first book by Ms Schaefer and I loved it!!"

BROKEN WINGS

Red River Recovery, Book 2

By TL Schaefer

Published by Terri Schaefer

Copyright 2021

Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

ASIN: B08TC9TCTR

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold but can be loaned to other people. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please the author at [email protected].

All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. www.tlschaefer.com

For August. You were the love of my life, my best friend, and my biggest cheerleader. You were taken from me too soon, and I will forever miss you.

Character List

Ethan Masters – Three years after the lowest point in his life, Air Force vet Ethan Mathews is trying to rebuild his world. He’s in debt to his boss and doesn’t have two pennies to rub together, but he’s sober and getting ready to score the biggest payout of his career… one that’ll erase his marker and make him a free man. Natalie Flynn – Security specialist Natalie Flynn is one job away from moving up to the corner office and taking a seat at her father’s side as Vice President of Arrow Security. Extracting a Ukrainian mail order bride from a dangerous engagement should be a piece of cake. But Petra’s got secrets of her own, and they’re about to make Natalie’s life explosive. Petra Mazur – Twenty-two-year-old Ukrainian mail order bride Petra will use everything at her disposal to get away from her fiancé, including Natalie. Greg Flynn – CEO of Arrow Security, former Green Beret Greg Flynn has made a name for himself and his daughter. Arrow is the best of the best, and he won’t allow anything to tarnish their reputation. Rob Hude – Former professional wrestler Rob turned his fame into a thriving repossession business where he recovers toys the rich just won’t bother to make payments on. His loyal, exceptionally talented crew of Cris, Ethan and Karla have made him a rich man, but one still wary of outside threats.

Chapter 1

The blades of the dove-gray Airbus 365 Dauphin helicopter began to slice through the already-humid early morning air as it began the start-up sequence. Too slowly for Ethan Masters’ liking. He began readying the ten-million-dollar aircraft for flight from the rooftop helideck, keeping one wary eye on the shiny stainless steel elevator doors leading into the body of the thirty-story building beneath. He’d been signed through security today sight unseen by his client, which meant he hadn’t had to resort to the usual gymnastics. He wasn’t about to let a chance like this slip by. Not when everything he wanted, everything he needed, rode on the outcome of this one, single, solitary job. Beneath him the aircraft hummed almost soundlessly, like a thoroughbred straining to be set loose. He’d be happy to accommodate her within the next few minutes, if everything went according to plan. To the east the sun was getting ready to breach the horizon, but it was already warm. He could tell it was going to be another Dallas scorcher, one where you sure as hell didn’t want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere. Not that it mattered in this baby. Don Ward had probably put an additional million into customizing the inside, making it plush enough for a prince. The amenities included some serious sound dampening, air conditioning, a fridge and a minibar. This chopper was top of the line, likely the most expensive thing Ethan would ever fly. And he was repossessing it out from under the nose of one of the most crooked bastards in Texas. Lights on the began to green up as the rotors spun even faster, and the aircraft began to vibrate more beneath him. Satisfaction raced through him in a rush. He loved flying, but sometimes, he loved repossessing fast, shiny things

almost as much. The rush of snatching a very expensive plaything away from an asshole who couldn’t quite grasp the concept of regular, on-time payments. Who shafted employees as much as he shortchanged the bank holding the lien on this chopper. Who helmed a company that included contract work overseas and had been Ethan’s distant boss three years ago. Yeah, it was even better when it was from an asshole like Ward. He hadn’t asked why Ward Dynamics had posted a job for a gig pilot, he’d just taken advantage of the opportunity. They’d been watching the corporation pretty hard once the chopper hit the recovery list. Ethan had just been faster than any of the other agencies. So here he was, at o’dark-thirty, taking this bird away easy as you please. His client’s destination was due south to Corpus Christi for the day, an easy two and a half or three-hour ride, cruising along at a hundred and fifty knots. He’d filed flight plans for the seaside community, even though he had absolutely no intention of flying there. He’d lift off before the client ever made it up here then head out to the open country where he wouldn’t be in a major flight path and stay on the down low. The helicopter had range for twice the distance to Oklahoma City, and he’d use most of that laying false trails. The maintenance logs on the Dauphin were tight. As much as Ward was a prick, he’d lavished attention on the Airbus, making it as flightworthy as anything Ethan had ever taken to the sky. The unknown person who’d hired him had cleared him through security on the bottom floor, made this whole operation such a piece of cake he was starting to get a niggling feeling at the back of his neck telling him everything was about to go south. Ethan had come an hour before his contracted time to familiarize himself with the Airbus, a handy excuse if anyone asked. No one had, and now he was ready to take off half an hour early. Before the sun was even up. And then he was ready. He began to lift off, head the two hundred miles north to Oklahoma City and the yard at Red River Recovery. Exhilaration whooshed

through him. There was the freedom of being in the air, untethered, but there was a bigger freedom in knowing that once he dropped this baby in the repo yard, he’d be a free man again. He’d forgotten how that felt. It’d been a year-long climb back from the lowest he’d ever been. He was ten, then twenty feet above the deck and beginning to bank away from the building when the rooftop door opened and a woman and teen walked out, both dressed in long flowing tank-style dresses, ridiculously high stacked sandals, carrying enormous purses. They looked like they’d walked out of a Beverly Hills spa rather than a Dallas high rise half an hour before the sun was even up. For a long second he was sucked three years into the past. To a different rooftop in a different country, lifting off when he knew the women beneath him were going to die. Doing it anyway because he’d been ordered to. Feeling something break inside when he did. He jerked back to the present, focused on the helipad. Saw two different faces, American this time instead of Afghan. A woman, maybe mid-thirties and a teenager who cowered beneath the noise and backwash of the chopper’s primary blade. Shit. They were his clients. He looked at the woman again, filed away everything in his mind, to include the fact she was staring daggers at him. He could see it all the way up here, at an angle. He could also tell that she was cus a storm. The teenager at her side just appeared forlorn and scared, like her future was winging away. It was that look that had him cursing himself, and returning the helicopter to the helipad, dropping down slowly, then unlocking the doors from the master console.

The woman threw open the door, raven hair and flowery, flowy dress whirling around her as she pushed the girl in first, then followed, closing the door with an authoritative thunk before she banged on the plexi separating the pilot and engers. For a moment he was surprised she’d know to signal the all-clear that way, then he didn’t much care, because now his life had gotten much, much more complicated.

Natalie helped buckle Petra into the butter-soft leather seat, extracted the holstered nine mil out of her stupid purse. Belled the skirt of the colorful maxi dress around her, making sure her feet were clear, then donned a headset and pulled the weapon out of its holster. Ethan Masters, if that was really his name, had some explaining to do. Now. She opened the plexi separating them, caught his surprised gaze in the rearview and leveled the weapon at him. “Masters?” she asked. Because even though she was ninety-nine percent sure the jerk was the pilot she’d hired, she needed to be certain. He nodded, even as a voice as smooth as caramel filled her ears through the headset. The southern accent coating that caramel made it even worse, like she was supposed to believe everything he said. “Sorry about the misunderstanding back there. You can put the gun away now and we’ll be on our way to Corpus.” His words, while soothing as hell, were a big fat lie. There’d been no misunderstanding. He’d been ditching them, there was no question in her mind about that. So now she and Petra were stuck on a multi-million-dollar helicopter with the guy who had been stealing it and had used her to get on the helideck. But paybacks were a bitch. “Change in plans,” she said, just as calmly, as coolly as he had. Forced steel into her tone. “We’re heading to El Paso now. Divert and go low as soon as you can do it without attracting attention.” His hazel eyes narrowed as he considered her. “All right, you’re the one with the gun. But El Paso is a hell of a lot further away than Corpus. We’ll likely have to refuel, and I’m pretty sure you can’t hold a gun on me for over five hours.” “You’d be surprised,” she said, and settled back into the soft leather to see what he would do. Because, as much as she might have a weapon, it wasn’t like she was going to shoot him. He was flying, she didn’t know how to operate the helicopter, and had no way of getting into the cockpit anyway.

If he hadn’t tried to steal the damned chopper she’d have ordered him to switch their destination without changing the flight plan. She could be persuasive when she needed to be. It was her hallmark. Her talent. Smoothing things. Persuading people to get her way. But not today. He shrugged, then caught her gaze in the mirror once again. “You running from Ward?” At least he wasn’t stupid. But she still didn’t know who he was beyond his name, didn’t know his game. “Nope, just changed our minds. We want to go shopping in El Paso instead.” Which was maybe the most nonsensical thing she’d ever said, but it wasn’t like he could call her out on it. His eyebrow raised in response, almost disappearing into the sandy-colored shag of hair on his brow before he nodded. “All right then. Since we have to refuel anyway, we’ll head south for a bit, maybe half an hour, then swing west. I know an airfield that doesn’t ask questions where we can get gas.” She’d just bet he did. He considered her again, appeared to be weighing something in his mind. Then he shrugged again, which appeared to be his go-to mannerism. “Ward is a douchebag who doesn’t quite get the concept of paying his bills. I’m not stealing this bird. I’m repossessing it.” Natalie held back a snort, then stopped trying and laughed. Laughed long and loud. “That’s fantastic.” Then she sobered. “But we’re still going to El Paso.” The thought that Ward hadn’t made the payment on one of his biggest symbols of success was hysterical. The chopper, and the ability to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, had been one of his biggest bragging points. And his Achilles heel. The pilot, maybe-Masters, was talking again. “Fine, doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I’ll drop you off in El Paso and then be on my way.” She couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t as if she’d planned on using the helicopter to get back home anyway. Her job was to get Petra to the border, into the hands

of one of Arrow Security’s partners, and then catch a flight to the company’s headquarters in Maryland to debrief. The thumb drive tucked into her bra that held a shit-ton of Ward’s files was just icing on the cake. Ward might try to come after her, but Arrow Security wasn’t exactly operating out of a garage. With offices in most major cities, and satellites in England, , , Spain, Mexico and Brazil, her family’s company eclipsed even Ward’s multinational corporation. Settling back into one of the ridiculously high-end leather bucket seats, a luxury she’d grown up with and was more than accustomed to, she rubbed Petra’s shoulder, took in the girl’s wide eyes and immediately felt bad. She wasn’t sure if Petra was terrified by the helicopter flight or the gun Natalie still held. Could be both. Giving the young woman a reassuring smile and pat on the knee, she went over their scenario one more time in her head, to get it straight, to make sure there were absolutely no mistakes. Her father didn’t accept mistakes. Twenty-two-year-old Petra was a mail-order bride from the Ukraine. Which was older than usual. As with most women put in this position, her plan had been to get herself established and then begin to bring her parents and siblings to the United States. Natalie didn’t know the whole story about how Petra ended up in the U.S., about to be married to Ward, but the woman had made it sound like her family had asked for Arrow’s intervention. Which sounded weird, since Petra was being married off, so surely the family couldn’t afford Arrow, but Greg had pulled Natalie off a companion job for the pop star of the year and sent her inside Ward’s organization as, of all things, a bridal consultant, nonetheless. No one really knew what that was, and Ward wasn’t about to deny his beautiful bride-to-be anything. At least on the surface. Natalie probably could have strolled into his home without modifying her appearance one little bit since he seemed to view women as decorations. At least until he needed something from them, like sex or a

convenient punching bag. His security guys would have eventually figured out it was Natalie, but rumor had it they didn’t seem to worry overmuch about females in general. Regardless of that intel, she’d taken precautions, cutting her long dark hair into a shoulder-grazing bob, using prosthetics to subtly change the shape of her nose. s to turn her gray eyes an unremarkable brown. With a flawless backstory, fresh ID and a massive wardrobe change, she looked every inch the bridal consultant, ready to create the perfect wedding. According to the society vlogs and Insta, Ward had met Petra on a trip to Kiev and been enchanted with her. They’d carried on a long-distance romance, and she was finally here in the United States for their wedding next week. Which of course was complete bullshit. He’d wanted a trophy wife. Someone beautiful and malleable to hang on his arm and make him look like even more of a wheeler dealer. He had never met Petra before her arrival in the U.S. two weeks ago. A social media firm put together a bells and whistles package on their “romance” that crumbled like a house of cards if you took the time to look into it. Most of his peers wouldn’t, which was what Ward was counting on. Had counted on and capitalized on his entire life. If nothing else, her arrival two days ago had stopped him from putting visible bruises on Petra. It hadn’t stopped the verbal assaults, which continued even when Natalie was around. Which just made her hate him more with each ing day. But it also made it almost too easy for her to dig into his files, because he was just as careless with them as he was with other human beings. When Natalie showed up, asking Petra if she needed an escape hatch, the woman had immediately agreed. As an official bridal consultant, Natalie had convinced Ward that Petra needed a day of pampering before the wedding, and she knew just the spot in Corpus, and couldn’t they take the helicopter down? It would show what a great husband he was going to be, that he could afford to fly his bride-to-be and her consultant wherever they wanted to go. And the spa was frequented by celebrities, and

wouldn’t it be cool if they got on TMZ? Pandering to his ego had, of course, worked. In about a minute flat. And so this morning they’d packed what Petra couldn’t live without in their monstrous designer handbags, dressed the part of two women out for a day at the spa, and set off to start a new life for the young woman. She’d eventually end up in Brazil, but Ward was just slimy enough to go after her if they didn’t send her to ground and effectively cover her tracks. While Natalie was too big a target to go after, if he ever discovered who she really was, Petra was not. So Natalie’s father had set up the extraction, with a side job to bring back some serious dirt on Ward as payment for the op. Natalie would have unequivocally refused to engage in corporate espionage, but her father had assured her their true client was an alphabet soup government agency that had promised exceptional top cover for the information. Once Natalie got to actually watch Ward in action, she hadn’t felt any true heartburn over the job. Getting information on Ward Dynamics’ dirty deeds had been almost too easy. And it was all dirty. What she’d uncovered would destroy Ward’s entire world when it was released. Getting Petra to safety was just the cherry on top. It had seemed to be going so well she’d actually ditched the s and the prosthetics. Today was about getting Petra away from Ward. Until this yahoo had shown up and derailed all her extraction plans. Or maybe not. He handled the chopper with the precision and control she’d expect from a repo agent, if she knew what that even meant. Maybe he’d really take them to El Paso. Regardless, she had both the weapon and the skills to ensure this assignment was

completed. It was what she did. Finish things. Usually by using her brains. Sometimes her looks. And if it got dicey, then she wasn’t averse to throwing a few punches. Bullets were a last resort for her…for anyone at Arrow Security. The thought brought a pang to her heart and she forced herself to refocus to the here and now. Didn’t let herself travel to five years ago and losing the one person who had truly mattered to her besides her parents. Losing Cord. She had to have her head in the game because their window to get Petra to safety was ridiculously small. Once upon a time, crossing the border had been a piece of cake. Nowadays, there were cameras everywhere, and way too many ICE or Homeland Security agents floating around. Transferring Petra to the Arrow Security asset had to be right on time, when the cameras were down and the Mexican border patrol had been well paid to look the other way. She gave Petra another comforting pat on the knee, then honed in on their surroundings. They’d cleared the high-rise portion of Dallas and were heading due south, just to the west of Interstate 35. Which was right on target. She glanced at her watch. From Masters’ projections, they’d be turning due west in about fifteen minutes. If he didn’t, then she’d wait until he had to land for gas, slip away and then set out for El Paso, even if she had to charter a private plane. She and Petra were going to get there, on time, one way or the other.

Chapter 2

Ethan tried not to stare at the woman in the rearview but it was hard. Her presence hit him like nothing he’d ever felt before… tough, capable, yet wrapped in a very, very pretty shell. Dark hair framed a face he’d say was extraordinarily beautiful if it didn’t look so strong. This was a woman who’d kick your ass without thinking twice. Even with the foofy clothes. She handled the weapon like she knew what she was doing, and while he couldn’t see her using it since that would likely cause them to crash, he had to ire her guts for holding him hostage in his own aircraft. He headed due south for Corpus, setting up the diversion she apparently needed. What could possibly be in El Paso? It sure as hell wasn’t shopping. Yeah, she was definitely on the run from Ward. But was it her or the girl who looked petrified in the seat next to her? It didn’t really matter. He’d call his boss Rob, the owner and operator of Red River Repossessions, as soon as they hit his refueling spot, explain what was going on and that he needed to take the girls to El Paso. Then he’d refuel the chopper and head to Oklahoma City as soon as they were safely there. He’d be back at the yard before the sun went down and still have played the rescuing hero to the two women. It was a balm to the constant ache in his heart that he hadn’t known he needed. But it still kind of chapped his ass that he was going to be late to the yard today. This repossession should have been a sweet validation. The day he became his own man again. The cut on a ten-million-dollar repossession was three hundred grand, and he’d take home a pretty penny of that himself after Rob got the majority of it for the agency. It was more than enough to pay off the rest of his debt to his boss. To get

him back to where he needed to be. He keyed the mic on his headset and addressed the woman. “You got a name, sunshine?” She stared at him hard in the rearview, stormy gray eyes hard, expression severe. Stared so long he knew she was contemplating whether to answer or not. “Natalie,” she finally said. “Natalie Flynn.” His blood iced over. “Any relation to Greg Flynn?” Please let the answer be no, he thought, because if she was, he’d entered a whole new universe. Her stare still bored into him, then her lips tilted up, just the slightest bit of amusement in her expression. “You know Dad?” Well hell. Things had just gotten real, and his past had just come back to bite him in the ass. What were the odds that the man who’d been complicit in the worst moment in his life was her father? Arrow Security hadn’t been running the op that sent him over the deep end, but the company’s operatives had been on board the chopper and had been just as complicit as him at the time. Even more so later, in their debrief. He had a decision to make. Head west in about five minutes, stop for fuel in a few hours in Midland, take them to El Paso, then head back to Oklahoma City. He’d be late, but he’d still get his money. Or he could say screw it. Drop this bird down right here and now and kick the two women off, then head north. He’d be back at the yard with no one the wiser and would walk away a free man. As assured as Natalie Flynn seemed with her weapon, he’d spent a decade in the

Air Force working search and rescue, and search and recovery missions. He could easily handle the woman. The second option sounded so damned good. Hell of a lot less trouble than the first, that’s for sure. But he still needed to answer her. “Yeah, I know of your father. Ran with some of his guys in the desert a few years ago. Things didn’t end well.” Her tight smile remained in place, but he could see a new tension around her eyes that she tried to hide. “So tell me why I shouldn’t drop this chopper down right now and kick you two out?” He was genuinely curious to hear what she had to say. She swallowed, then reached out and pulled the younger girl’s hand into her own. He waited for her to convince him. Saw her formulating her best answer, whether it was the truth or not. And when she spoke, he figured he was about to get a fifty-fifty answer. “You weren't wrong. We’re running from Ward, that’s true. Petra is supposed to be his wife in less than a week. Ward doesn’t do well around women. Seems to have this idea he can knock them around or belittle and degrade them. I thought differently.” She seemed to be telling the truth, or at least maybe what she believed was the truth. He shifted his glance to the girl sitting next to her, really took a good look since he’d been looking at Natalie the entire time before. She was actually a woman, not the teenager he originally thought. Still looked scared as hell, though. Yeah, he could see Ward doing something like that, which made him hate the dude even more. So how did Natalie Flynn play into this?

Arrow Security was a multinational conglomerate, but Greg Flynn ran it with an iron fist and what seemed like the power to look into people’s minds. Just like Ward. Ethan had worked with some of Flynn’s contractors in the desert. Walked away after an op that was considered a success by everyone but him. He hadn’t pulled himself out of a bottle or the casino for almost a year after that and had run through every asset he’d owned. If his ex-wife Aimee hadn’t left him years before that due to his deployment tempo, she sure as shit would have over the drinking and gambling. And he wouldn’t have blamed her. Hadn’t when she ditched him in the first place. He didn’t think about it much these days, beyond paying off his mark to Rob. But if he really had to look at where his descent had begun, it had been at the direction of Greg Flynn and Don Ward. Maybe they hadn’t given the order for Ethan to sit down, shut up and play nice, but they’d created a culture where that kind of attitude flourished. He glanced into the mirror again, felt a smile start when it was absolutely the wrong expression to have. Natalie Flynn was at his mercy.

Natalie reeled, pushed back by the absolute ice in the pilot’s smile, in his gaze. Maybe confirming she was Greg Flynn’s daughter hadn’t been the best move. She knew her father had made enemies over the years; anyone running the type of company they did would have, especially with his special operations background. Years in the Green Berets had made him an impervious, hard man. Even to his only child. But there’d been more to Masters’ stare. The crow’s feet around his hazel eyes had tightened and there’d been absolute hatred in his tone. This wasn’t a bit of jealousy or mild dislike. And now it was directed at her. Because of who she was, not because of something she’d done. Regardless, what the hell was she supposed to do about it? They were cruising two thousand feet above the ground, hauling ass. It wasn’t as if she and Petra could jump out. Inside, she was the tiniest bit stung by his censure, even as she bolstered herself to get over it, to get the job done. She didn’t have time for hurt feelings. Getting Petra over the border and the data back to their main office in Maryland were her only imperatives. How this, her last field assignment, had gone so sideways so fast was nothing short of appalling. As Greg Flynn’s only child, it was a given that she’d take over the company. After earning a bachelor’s in international relations and a master’s in forensic ing, she’d done a decade of field work both stateside and overseas. Now, at thirty-five, it was time to take her place at the helm of the company with her father. To learn that piece of the business so he could someday retire. And oh, how she was looking forward to it. Semi-regular hours. Someplace to go home to every night, maybe with a little yard in the back where she could relax. Getting dressed up for a nice dinner and not wondering if someone was going to try to take out her primary.

Meeting a man who could hold his own with her father. Someone who ran his own boardroom and wasn’t intimidated by the power her family wielded. A dog. She really wanted a dog. A small piece of her whispered that she wanted more than the family business. Wanted the restaurant she and her mother had conceptualized before her mom died. But that wasn’t realistic. It was her legacy to take the helm of Arrow Security, and she would. And she’d get the rest of her wishes later. After this was done. Tomorrow. In the here and now she had a Ukrainian mail order bride to drop off at the Mexican border and a thumb drive full of explosive secrets that would likely bring down one of the richest men in the United States. Ensuring she had Masters’ cooperation was the one thing she could do right now. So instead of defending her family in what would likely be a losing bid, she’d use Petra to convince him. She turned, snugged a headset over the woman's ears so they could all hear each other. “Petra, tell him what Ward did to you.” It was like watching a transformation in the woman. The veil of victimhood seemed to lift off her and a harder, more cynical face was revealed. No longer was she a mouse of a girl who jumped at every shadow. Instead, her eyes held the fierceness of a tiger. Natalie had worn enough disguises, played enough parts to know when one was discarded. The woman beside her now was just that, a woman. If they weren’t two thousand feet in the air, she would have felt a seismic shift between her feet. “He’s a pig,” Petra spat, her English perfect now, with a faint accent. It was as if this wasn’t even the scared, beaten-down person Natalie had grown accustomed to. “He made me want to vomit every time he touched me.” “Petra?” she found herself asking, because what the hell was going on? Where was the crying young woman she’d spent the last two days with?

“Don’t seem so surprised. No one could be as pathetic as I’ve been pretending to be this whole time.” Petra laughed, a mean sound that held little amusement. Despite her training, all her years in the field, Natalie’d been had. But that couldn’t be right. Arrow had researched Petra, made sure she was who she said she was. Hadn’t they? Or had someone dropped the ball and just assumed the mail-order wasn’t worth expending resources to confirm? Because the physical change was startling. Even her posture had morphed completely. “Who are you?” Natalie demanded, her stomach turning as she realized the extent of Petra’s deceit. Angry at herself that she’d been played. That they’d all been played. Petra turned to her. “I’m still Petra, but he didn’t want me, he wanted a meek wife, a victim he could use as a punching bag, who he could belittle to make him feel more like a man.” “You used me,” Natalie stated, her voice devoid of the emotion that had stormed through her just seconds ago. Reaching acceptance and moving on, like the professional she was. “You used me, as well,” Petra said, staring at her with eyes that gone hard. Cunning. “You weren’t there just to help me. I saw you stealing information from his computer. You would have never had access to it without me.” She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make Natalie feel any better about missing the woman’s true personality. She was usually better than this. Hell, Arrow was usually better than this. How had their handlers missed something this big? With Petra’s sudden growth of a spine, everything changed. There was no reason to take her over the border now. Ward might hunt her down, but this woman could stand on her own. “You could hide me, here in the U.S. instead of taking me to Mexico,” Petra said.

Natalie saw Masters’ head jerk a bit and ed he was listening to everything they said. Then his smooth voice filled the comms. “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t file a real flight plan. I’m going to land soon. We don’t need gas yet, but we need to talk, face to face.” Natalie cocked her head, really looked at what she could see of him. In his place she’d have turned around, dropped them back in Dallas, and hauled ass. Not that she’d let him, because she was the one with the gun, after all. Instead, he seemed willing to go with this. At least for the time being. He may just kick them out and leave them in the middle of nowhere, but she hadn’t gotten that from his voice, from his inflection. So who the hell was Ethan Masters? And what was he up to?

This whole thing had gone FUBAR, and fast. When the young woman had been a victim, he’d felt the need to protect, to get her to safety. But now? Now she sounded like someone he’d been in combat with. But more mercenary than any of them. And that wasn’t something he was willing to go along with until he knew more. And likely not then. He was so close to getting his life back. To the day he could stop throwing every last penny toward his debt, even his military disability. To figuring out what he wanted to do next. And now this. Saddled not only with Flynn, but with a foreigner who sounded and acted a lot like an operator. A banner day this was not. He scoured his memory, wondering where they could go to ground quick with a bird this expensive. He could fake it and just drop down into an exclusive airport, claim his comms had gone out. But with the women in the back, he wasn’t sure if he was a good enough actor to make it stick. He should just head north, head toward the yard, turn both of them over to the cops that he knew his old partner Cris was friends with. The cops would make sure the women were treated well, fairly. He’d get his repossession and his cut. His life. Everybody won. But something made him hesitate. Maybe it was the look of shock on Natalie Flynn’s face when Petra revealed her true colors. Or maybe it was the fact he just couldn’t let two women go it alone, no matter how competent they seemed. It was hopelessly old fashioned, but who he was. He hadn’t dealt in shades of gray like this since his time in the desert. He didn’t much like the fact he was dealing in them now.

But because he couldn’t let go of his integrity, he’d hear the women out first. Land this bird someplace remote since they didn’t need gas, get them all out in the open, and figure out what he had just bought a hand in.

Ethan dropped the Airbus lightly to the ground, reached into the backpack on the seat next to him and extracted his weapon. He hadn’t brought the pistol along for protection or anything like that. In fact, Rob was very strict about his recovery agents not carrying. Ethan didn’t break work rules much but being armed was a holdover from his Air Force and contractor days. He was glad he had it now, considering Natalie Flynn had a weapon of her own. He’d landed behind the barn of an old friend, one from his military days who he was pretty sure was downrange right now. Regardless, the man wouldn’t ask questions. And that made this location safer than almost anywhere else he could land. The only ones who’d seen him touch down, maybe, were farmers, and they were used to helicopters crisscrossing the state, usually owned by oil surveyors who were checking up on derricks. While the Airbus was definitely bigger and sleeker than the typical Bell Jet, for most it wouldn't engender more than a little curiosity. The door to the cabin slid open and the two women stepped out. Flynn still held her weapon, but it was with a casual familiarity that told him she knew how to use it. She stepped away from Petra, keeping distance between them. Apparently the Ukrainian’s words had opened a chasm between the two women. “Flynn,” he called out. “You put your weapon away and I’ll do the same,” he offered, waiting to see what she would do. She shot a look at Petra, then nodded, ensuring the safety was engaged but kept in in her grip. Ethan did the same then they both turned to Petra. There were things that needed to be said between them but first and foremost they needed clarification on what the young woman had seen. Or maybe done. Natalie opened the conversation, and her voice wasn’t kind.

“All right Petra, spill.” The woman repeated what she’d said earlier, her back straight, her eyes flashing fire. She wasn’t one bit sorry for deceiving Flynn, and expected Natalie to keep her safe, which was pretty ballsy. It also told Ethan that the woman had an ace up her sleeve, something she was holding back as leverage. In her position, he’d do the same. So he settled in and waited to see how Natalie Flynn would handle this wrinkle.

Masters still stood apart from both of them, hazel eyes a bit shuttered, his face expressionless. He glanced back at the chopper flicker-quick and with that action, she knew what had to be going through his mind. He could easily get back in the cockpit, lock them out and continue what he’d been doing this morning, repossessing the helicopter. Leaving her and Petra high and dry. But just as quickly as that thought seemed to occur to him, it was gone. She could actually see him making the decision to stay with them, or at least figure out what was going on. Now that they were on the ground and she’d had a chance to look Petra in the eye, she was almost positive the woman was hedging on something. And since Petra had let her true colors shine, Natalie knew where she stood. She understood a woman like this could either be her friend or foe. But it all depended on Petra. “So what was your role in all of this, Flynn?” Masters finally broke his silence, still standing just far enough away that she couldn’t take him down physically. He was smart. And with that, she knew he’d been battle tested, just like Cord had been. A streak of pain washed through her, but she suppressed it after a long moment. Cord was five years gone and ing him wasn’t helping at all. Or was it? Masters reminded her of Cord now that she really looked. Today’s events hadn’t even thrown him off his stride. This was nothing compared to what he’d seen and done before. And regardless of the shaggy hair, he stood with the precision of a military man, something she couldn’t have noticed while he was piloting the helicopter. He was a few inches taller than her own five-ten, lean but looked strong, which figured if he was a repossession agent. He was wary, yes, but those hazel eyes were assessing her both as a threat and as a job. That’s what she would do, so she knew what it looked like. The silence had stretched just a little too long, so she answered him. “I’m her

bridal consultant.” He snorted in response. “Good try, sunshine. Somehow I don’t see Greg Flynn’s kid doing anything as pedestrian as a bridal consultant.” It had been worth a try. But she owed this guy nothing, not really. She had no reason to tell him about the USB drive in her bra, even though Petra had alluded to it. Nor the fact that they had someone waiting for them on the El Paso border to spirit Petra away. But he also struck her as someone who could see right through bullshit. He was waiting, sort of patiently, for her to answer. No, she didn’t really owe him anything, but she could give him a nugget. Because while they needed him, he didn't need a damned thing from them. Which made them standing here having this conversation all the more strange. “Fine. My pre-brief wasn’t overly detailed on the how and the why. I was sent in to extract Petra if she needed it. From what I can gather, her family hired us, wanted to make sure that Ward was treating her right. Which he obviously wasn’t. Getting her out seemed like the right thing to do.” He nodded, but his expression was pure cynic. “Sure. Because a family from the Ukraine looking to offload their daughter can drop the kind of cash to hire y’all. Never mind what Petra said about you two using each other.” He paused, looked hard at both of them. “Yeah, I heard that. And because of what I heard, I’d just as soon leave you here, drop this bird off, and collect my commission. No more drama on my end.” And yet there he stood talking to them instead of lifting off. He was just like Cord. A freakin’ hero. But now she had to decide if she wanted to stand by Petra or cut her loose. In the end, the bruises and the verbal abuse the woman had sustained made her choice easy. “Please,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “Please take us to El Paso.” At least they had backup there, a plan. She’d decide if that needed to change as they got closer to Mexico.

He shifted, putting his hands on his hips and she got the feeling she needed to get to the point pretty quick. That her time was running out. That Petra’s time was running out. “I’ll pay you. It’s just an extra day… not even that. You’ll get your commission and extra chunk of change and we get what we need.” Something she said made his mouth quirk into a bitter smile. “That’s the kind of offer I’d expect from a Flynn. So how much we talkin’ here?” She stared at him hard, trying to dissect his words. He obviously knew her father, had maybe even worked for him at one point. Didn’t like him. Which was okay, and totally understandable. Not many people cared for her father. At least not from afar. “Ten thousand.” He squinted at her. “My minimum price for taking two women to the Mexican border is twenty.” “Fifteen. Untraceable.” He looked from her to Petra, back again. Nodded his head. “I ain’t cheap, but I can be had. Flynn, you've got yourself a deal.”

Chapter 3

Ethan strapped himself in, wondering what the hell he had just agreed to. It wasn’t just the money, though that was certainly nice. If and when his boss Rob found out about this, he’d probably chew Ethan up one side and down the other, but something inside needed to make a difference for these women. Well, for Petra, even if he was pretty sure she was a stone-cold bitch. Natalie Flynn he would be just as happy to ditch, but right now she was the golden goose, and he wasn't about to give that up. He wasn't altogether altruistic. The fifteen large she offered would be a nice nest egg after he paid off Rob with today's commission. It would give him something to begin again with. And that was worth getting yelled at. Now that he had Natalie Flynn in his mind, he couldn’t get her out. She was long and lean, dark hair cut in a blunt bob, smallest amount of makeup, just enough to enhance smoky grey eyes. The dresses she and Petra wore were high end, the kind of thing you saw ultra-rich women wearing to dash off to the store. The sandals as mile-high as he’d guessed from his glance earlier. Two women going out on an expensive day-trip shopping spree… two women who expected to be home by nightfall. It was hard for him to square what Natalie was doing with what he knew about her father. Greg freaking Flynn. The man had a huge presence in the contract side of Afghanistan and Iraq. He and Ward ran in the same circles, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he’d sent his daughter to get dirt on Ward. But the way Natalie was continuing to protect Petra blew a big hole in his conception of how a Flynn would act. He wasn’t an idiot. Natalie had information on Ward. Maybe on a tiny little drive. Maybe she’d already sent it home to dear old dad. It still didn’t make sense that she’d stick her neck out for Petra, though. She had what she wanted, so why continue with her assignment?

She could have easily walked away, could still, now, in the moments before they lifted off, but instead, when he looked in the rearview, he could see her talking to Petra without the headphones. Kept her back to him so he couldn’t read her lips. Had positioned herself so he couldn’t read Petra’s either. It should have pissed him off, but instead he was impressed. And because of that, he was willing to take them to El Paso. He’d thought it wasn’t really so much out of his way a little while ago, and it still wasn’t. Plus, he really wanted to try to unravel the mystery Natalie Flynn presented. If she kept her word about the fifteen grand, by this time tomorrow his debts would be paid and he’d be sitting pretty with enough cash in his pocket to start over. Strangely enough, he trusted her family name to do that, because as much as they were assholes, they’d always paid on time Which was a strangely unsettling thought. He’d lived the last three years of his life in a bubble. One created by Ward and Flynn and Ethan himself. He’d never really considered what to do with himself after. After he sobered up. After he paid his debts. After he earned back some self-respect. Tomorrow, he’d think about it tomorrow. When he was free. He’d call Rob when they refueled in Midland in a few hours, let him know what was going on. Get yelled at and be okay with being chastised. Because as of right now, with freedom on the horizon, he was actually doing something that interested him, and that hadn’t happened in a long, long time. But having Natalie Flynn here in the chopper took him back to places he didn't really want to go to. It took him back to the desert, back to the day he’d lost part of his soul. He shook his head is if to clear the thoughts from it and concentrated on getting to Midland as quickly as he could.

Which started him thinking about what he would do with that fifteen large, where he would go. He had no earthly idea.

Natalie slouched back in the seat, head pounding. Partially with anger, but mostly with frustration. Petra hadn't given an inch, had stuck to her story. Natalie wasn't sure if she believed her or not, but it didn't really matter. What Petra was asking for, to stay in the States, was impossible. They'd set her up to go to Brazil, and that's where she was going. She stared at the back of Masters’ head, wondered what was going through his mind. It had been a hell of a morning for all of them. She stretched out her legs, engaged the safety on her weapon, tucked it where Petra couldn't get to it easily, then tilted her head back and tried not to think about any of it. Because right now she was along for the ride. Petra nudged her an hour later, pointed to Masters who was motioning for them to put on cans. She did, and it was almost a relief to hear his voice. “We're about five minutes out of Midland,” he said. “This is where we're going to gas up.” She nodded, took off the headset. She'd be happy to stand, stretch her legs a bit. A few moments later they were touching down at a small airfield populated by a whole bunch of corporate jets. Masters spoke with an attendant who began fueling the helicopter, then met Natalie at the side of the aircraft while Petra watched, still seated in the cabin. “Lot of oil money moving through here, so a bird like this isn’t exactly normal, but they come through often enough that we shouldn't have any problems.” “I want to check in with Arrow,” Natalie said, “let them know we're on our way.” He nodded, “I need to check in with my boss as well.”

He stepped toward the nose and she toward the tail of the aircraft, each pulling out their cell phones. Her father answered on the first ring, as he always did. “Where are you?” “Midland, Texas. We had a bit of a bump. Our pilot is repossessing Ward’s helicopter.” The fact the CEO of Arrow Security didn’t burst into hearty laughter at the scenario told her something was wrong. Really wrong. He should have been delighted in Ward losing his very pretty ride. “What do you know about this guy? Your pilot?” She shrugged even though he couldn't see it. “Prior military, he's got the moves. If I had to guess, I’d say Air Force. He’s got the flyboy vibe. Seems to be a pretty good pilot. Is willing to take us to El Paso which is more than I expected. Oh, and Petra did a one-eighty.” “Tell me about the pilot first,” her father demanded. “What's his name? What's he look like?” Why was he so hung up on Masters? Though with the way everything had gone south, it kind of made sense. “He's tall, probably six-two, rangy, knows how to handle a weapon. He said his name is Ethan Masters. Doesn't seem to be too fond of you. You gonna tell me what's going on?” “Don Ward is dead, that's what's going on. Of the three of you, you're the only one I can say didn't kill him. You didn't have a reason to, but Petra sure as hell did and who knows with this pilot.” “What do you mean Ward is dead?” “His staff found him in bed with a bullet hole in his head a little over an hour ago. You said that Petra had done a one-eighty. What do you mean?” “I mean she went from being the sweet naive young lady into a ball buster. The woman sitting in the chopper right now doesn't take shit from anybody.” Her father swore. “This was supposed to be easy. Low risk, high reward.” He

went silent and she could feel him judging her over the cell line. Natalie winced in response to his criticism and then drew her shoulders back. None of this was her fault. Not one bit. She started to reply, to tell him his intel had obviously been wrong…again, when a noise, and then motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. The upper rotors of the chopper had begun to power up. She whirled, as did Masters, an expression of shock on his face as he reached out and tried to open the enger cockpit door. It was locked, and in the pilot’s seat sat Petra. She threw them a wave and a jaunty smile, then a shooing motion as the rotors picked up speed. Masters pulled his weapon pointed straight at her through the cockpit windshield. Natalie held her breath, wondering if he'd actually take the shot, but he did not, and lowered his weapon to his side as the chopper lifted off. He and Natalie stepped back, buffered by the backwash and watched the helicopter lift up and away. “What the fuck just happened?” Natalie demanded, her phone hanging uselessly at her side, her father’s voice tinny as he yelled at her. “Pretty sure a Russian spy just stole the helicopter.” Masters pulled his phone back up to his ear. “Rob, we're hosed.” Natalie’s stomach bottomed out. She raised her own cell. “Dad,” her voice was frigid, colder than she’d ever heard herself speak. “What do you know about Petra?” Masters stood beside her. “Put it on speaker, please.” If he’d demanded, she would have unequivocally refused, but since he’d asked, and she was pretty pissed off at her father right now, she did as he requested. “…be careful.” Greg warned.

“Of what, exactly?” Ethan’s voice was calm, collected. “The Russian spy you put into bed with Ward?” Natalie drew in a breath. She’d been thinking that, but the fact he was as well… “You must be Masters. Your name is starting to ring a bell with me, and it’s not a good one.” “Don’t care. My commission just flew away, and I’m going to get it one way or the other.” Masters looked menacing now, his hand still curled around the gun, his features flat and hard, and Natalie jolted. What did he mean by that? Was he threatening her? “Get my daughter home in one piece and you’ll have it.” She braced her hands on her hips in indignation. “I can get myself home perfectly fine, thank you very much.” “Not with Ward’s men gunning for both of you as well as the cops. I suspect Petra killed him and used the two of you as both her alibi and escape hatch.” “Ward is dead?” Masters’ voice held such shock that she knew he was in the clear as well. Which made Petra responsible for murder. But why would the woman murder him now? In another week she would have been his wife, could have killed him in a much less public manner that might be swept aside as an accident. Collected a massive fortune. “This was a message,” she said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. “She could have killed him after the wedding. Turning off our rescue attempt would have been as easy as saying she was fine.” “Agreed,” her father said. “Right now I’m not sure if this is backed by foreign or domestic enemies. Ward had plenty of both. I need the information you took from his files, and quickly.”

“I just need to get back to Maryland—” she began, before Masters cut her off. “Where she goes, I go. My boss is pissed and so am I. I didn’t ask for any of this. I was doing a job. So how are you going to get us out of here?” “We have to assume every move I make is being watched by Ward’s men,” said Flynn. “If you can get back to Dallas, I can set up plane tickets from here.” Natalie started to agree, then realized with horror that her purse was still in the helicopter. The only things she had to her name right now were her cell phone, the thumb drive tucked into her bra and the clothes on her back. And her weapon. There was no way to get an ID fast enough to fly commercially. “Can you send a charter for us? I can’t fly commercial. My ID is in the chopper.” Greg went quiet for a long moment, and in that moment she could hear judgement. Again. “Nothing that won’t be traced. Hold on a moment.” Natalie felt Masters watching her, lifted her head to meet his gaze. “We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly. “I don’t need to be patronized,” she snapped. She was embarrassed that her father so clearly underestimated her skills, regardless of the ID fiasco. “I spent five years moving between southern Europe and North Africa on security details. Another five moving primaries around New York City and Los Angeles. I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to get out of Midland, Texas.” He assessed her for a long moment, nodded, and appeared to be on the verge of saying something when her father came back on the line. “There’s a secure internet connection at this address.” He read it off. “You should be about ten miles from there. It’s a business owned by a friend, and she knows you’re coming. Get me that information, then get back to Maryland, but take it slow. I need to do damage control.” “Why the hell would I take it slow?” she demanded, hating that she sounded impulsive and defensive, but dammit, she deserved to know what was going on. “Because you’re a suspect, that’s why. Both of you. Your names hit the news while I was on the phone with Mandy. Apparently your disguise wasn’t good

enough, Natalie. They made you. You’re both considered armed and dangerous and are about an hour away from being the focus of a multi-state manhunt. So get me that information and hole up until we figure out what the fuck happened. Pull your SIM cards and ditch your cells. Mandy is working an exit plan, burner phones, and has already sent a driver. He should be there momentarily. Check in every four hours until this is over.” He disconnected and Natalie stared at the phone for a long moment, shock thundering through her system. It wasn’t the fact they were being hunted, it was the tone in her father’s voice, the disappointment, the censure. She pulled herself together, then looked at Masters. “Well, fuck.”

Chapter 4

Their driver pulled up in an SUV that looked like it’d had a previous life as an armored personnel carrier. He and Natalie had done as Flynn directed, pulling their SIM cards and ditching the devices, though it pained Ethan mightily to submerge his nine-hundred-dollar phone in a bathroom wastebasket filled with tap water. He stared at the endless blue sky, cursing Petra for a long moment before they climbed into the SUV. Her sweet face had fooled them all. Any doubts he’d had about her being an operative had vanished about the same time the helo had lifted off the deck. He slid into the cushy leather back seat next to Natalie, wondered where the hell this Mandy lived and who she was. Their chauffer was the strong and silent type, and it wasn’t as if he or Natalie felt like chatting. It’d been a hell of a morning, and it was just closing in on noon. They drove for about half an hour, skirting through downtown city streets and well-maintained neighborhoods before pulling into the parking lot of a boutiquelooking store. The driver headed around back, unlocked the doors and motioned them out with a dip of his head. Ooookay. Ethan shot a look at Natalie, and she was giving the man the same side-eye. Even she had no idea what her father was up to. They opened the unlocked back door. Natalie was all kinds of calm, likely because this seemed to be a safe house of sorts her father had directed them to. But Ethan wasn’t quite so relaxed. He knew what men like Ward and Flynn were capable of. What they could—and had—done to people they considered allies.

The driver hadn’t relieved them of their weapons, so if nothing else, that made him marginally comfortable. But he still walked so his back was to the wall and his field of fire was clear, even if his weapon still had the safety engaged and was tucked in the back of his cargos. They walked down a short, unremarkable hallway and then into a knickknack explosion. The walls were covered with purses and necklaces and bumper stickers. UTEP mugs and Paydirt Pete dolls. Texas state garden flags and jars of cowboy caviar and jalapeno salsa. Behind the sat a woman with quite possibly the biggest hair he’d ever seen. Everything about her was loud, blowsy, overblown. Peg Bundy. He looked around for their , wondering if it was one of the other two women browsing the store, but neither was looking in their direction. Natalie strode the . “We’re looking for Mandy.” The woman smiled, scarlet lipstick offsetting a blindingly white smile. “You found her, sugar. You’d be Natalie. You’re the spitting image of Greg, but prettier, of course.” She climbed off the stool and Ethan realized she was tiny, probably five feet in her sock feet, but the towering shoes she had on added a good four inches. “Come on.” She shifted her attention to her customers. “Ladies, give me just a minute to help this nice couple and I’ll be back.” She led them down the hallway, and into a doorway he’d noted and dismissed as a stockroom. The office behind the door was meticulous, the exact opposite of the mayhem in the front room. Mandy settled into a chair behind the desk, kicked off her heels and sighed in relief as she turned her focus to give Ethan and Natalie the once over. “You two really screwed the pooch on this one. Ward dead, his assassin in the breeze, and the law looking for you.” Ethan started to say something, but she held up a hand. “I don’t want to know a damned thing. Greg told me what I needed to know.” She gestured to a set of keys. “Keys to the RV and the Jeep. I’ve outfitted you with two burner phones

with Greg’s number programmed in already. Five large in cash, with another five on two untraceable visa gift cards. Use those for incidentals and for gods’ sakes, don’t use your real names, drivers licenses or anything that’ll clue someone in on who you are. First names only. I didn’t have enough time to make alternate IDs, so just be smart.” “Harold has a suitcase with clothes to change in to in the SUV. What you’re wearing is already on film and being circulated, not to mention it’s totally impractical.” She looked at Natalie’s hair, sighed. “No way we can color your hair so quickly and not have it look like shit, so keep it up in a ballcap or ponytail whenever you can. Maybe consider a wig if you think you can pull it off.” She cocked her head, studied Natalie. “You’d work as a dishwater blonde.” Ethan could feel Natalie practically bursting with exasperation next to him. “I know how the hell to go underground,” she said, her words short, a bit insulted. “I’m sure you do, but time is short. They’ll track that helicopter to Midland soon enough, and you two need to be gone before they get here.” “Neither of us did anything,” Natalie protested. “We should wait for the authorities, clear this all up.” Her surety came from having her father’s influence behind her, Ethan knew. It actually wasn’t a bad idea. He’d been repossessing the helicopter legally, and it would put the cops on the right track for Ward’s true murderer… Petra. He and Natalie had been steamrolled by Flynn’s plans, never even talked about just hunkering down and waiting. Mandy’s reply, in her businesslike tone, sent a chill up his spine. “Oh, bless your heart, sweetie. It’s not the cops you should be worried about.” He spoke for the first time. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Mandy looked him over from head to toe. “You know as well as I do what Ward was into. Cops and investigations can be bought. Evidence can be lost or manufactured. You two are walking, talking patsies. Someone big paid for his murder, and you two are the only ones who can give any kind of background on her.”

Well hell, when she put it that way. He reached over, grabbed the keys. “Talk to me about the RV.” Natalie rounded on him, her face furious. She didn’t like being railroaded, which he totally understood, but right now, it was better if they were on the move. “You can yell at me later, but right now, we need to move.” Her chin firmed up, like she wanted to argue, and he’d never wanted to kiss the attitude off anyone more. The compulsion was so powerful he actually stepped forward, into her personal bubble before he reined himself in, shocked that the thought, the urge, had even come into existence. This was Natalie Flynn. With every fiber in his being, he needed to who her father was, what he stood for, and how he’d completely wrecked Ethan’s life.

Natalie watched something, she wasn’t sure what, cross Masters’ face, before he took a very careful step back and his face went blank. Part of her was dying to know what he was thinking, but the other, rational part of her knew they had other shit to do. The first of which was figure out who the hell Mandy was, and why she was helping them. Yeah, her father had sent them here, but when she looked at the woman she got a feeling. Not a bad one, necessarily, but not something that gave her the warm fuzzies either. She faced the woman behind the desk, who still looked like a caricature of what folks expected a Texas woman to look like, but whose gaze was shrewd and knowing. Mandy was answering Ethan’s question about the RV. “Twenty-six footer. Not new, but new enough to be reliable. Looks more worn than it is. Tows a fourdoor Jeep that also looks like it’s seen better days. Best bet is to be on vacation, traveling across the country. It should work for the short term. Ward’s men and the cops would never think to look for you in a KOA Campground.” Natalie ignored what she’d said, honing in on why the woman made her twitch instead. “Who are you to my father?” Marcy smiled, the barest tilt to her lips. “We’ve known each other a long time. Help each other out when we get the call.” “So you’re what, a security specialist as well?” Natalie couldn’t really see it, but again, Mandy’s demeanor was all coolly professional. “Not so much that,” she answered. “Let’s just say I’m more of a disappearing specialist and leave it at that.” She stood, toed back into her stilettos and headed for the door. Natalie and Ethan had no real choice but to follow. “RV is ten miles down the road. Harold will drop you off. Don’t come up for air for at least a week, at least not as yourselves. Now hand over that thumb drive and get gone.”

“No,” Natalie replied, digging in her heels. “Log me into a terminal and I’ll send it myself, but no way I’m handing this over to you, no matter what Dad says.” Mandy stopped, her hand on the doorknob, and slowly turned. Gave Natalie a more thorough once over than she had before. Then she smiled, a true smile. “Good girl. Help yourself to the computer, just make it quick. It’s secure enough for what you’re sending. Harold will be waiting for you in the alley.” Then she stepped out, and before the door closed, Natalie saw her gait and posture change, as she once again took on the mannerisms of the owner of a store that sold fripperies. “Who the hell is she?” she whispered, then shook her head. “Never mind, doesn’t matter.” She stepped to the desk, accessed the privacy browser Arrow Security used, then ran a program to ensure the information wouldn’t be cloned and ed to Mandy’s computer. That was how she’d set it up, if she was Mandy. Information was currency. But it was clean. While she worked, she watched Masters out of the corner of her eye. They’d been in motion for the past few hours, so she hadn’t had much time, or inclination, to form much of an opinion. But now, as the data she’d collected began to transfer, she looked her fill. Secretly, of course. He was taller than she’d originally thought, maybe because he seemed to try to make himself seem smaller, less threatening. Like he was a ing player, not the primary. Which was the furthest thing from the truth. She’d seen him go all alpha. Had spent enough time in sandy places overseas to know a military man when she saw him. So what drove him to fade into the background? Special ops, maybe? Those guys were either completely over the top or gone before you noticed they were there. It didn’t really matter how much he tried. He had a face that drew attention, or at least hers, now that she was really looking. Hazel eyes drew you in first, but then you looked down and saw those lips.

Whew. Framed by a neatly trimmed goatee, they were perfectly kissable. Which she should one hundred percent not be thinking of. Not when he so openly despised her father… and her by extension. She also knew she had a type, and he was it. She loved the adventurers. The guys who ran toward gunfire to assist, rather than the other way, toward safety. And she’d been burned by that love, lost the man she’d thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. Lost Cord. Lost so much of herself when he died. Which is why she’d never again fall for the daredevil, no matter how much they made her pulse race. Nope, she was going for buttoned-down businessmen now, as soon as this debacle ended and she started her new life in Maryland. The computer beeped, indicating the transfer was complete. She pulled the thumb drive, ensured once again that she’d left no trace, and stood. Masters hadn’t moved during her or her eyeballing, simply stood by the door, arms crossed against his chest as he watched her work with those hazel eyes that seemed to see everything. “I’m still not sure how much I like this,” she said as she approached him, “but I guess it can’t hurt, at least for a day or two.” His head dipped in a nod as he agreed. “Who’s taking point?” “I will,” she said, drawing her weapon from the small of her back. Real holsters would be the first thing on her list to purchase. “People don’t expect a woman to lead.” The tiniest of smiles lifted his lips and about stopped her heart. “True.” His voice had been caramel before, through the headset, but now? It should be illegal. He armed himself and they pushed themselves through the door, clearing the hallway without drawing the attention of any shoppers who might be near the back of the store. As promised, the SUV was still in place in the alley, the laconic driver Harold behind the wheel.

They settled in, weapons held at ease, but still at the ready, and Natalie realized that only half an hour had ed. It was barely past noon. Her stomach growled. Masters quirked his lip again, and she sent him a glare in response. “We didn’t eat this morning, we were too busy trying to escape.” He held up a hand. “You’re preaching to the choir. I could eat as well. But let’s scope out our wheels first.” She nodded and they spent the next few minutes in silence, as they drove further and further out into the country, until they stopped at a gate that had seen better days about a hundred years ago. Harold exited, swung the gate open on creaky hinges, then drove through. Down the rutted road, around a small hillock, a dilapidated barn stood beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree. Harold stopped the car and they all stepped out. He soundlessly led them to the barn, then opened the padlock and threw the doors open soundlessly. The gate was a ruse, a cover for the barn. For the RV and Jeep inside. Natalie walked in, considered both. They would do. As Mandy had said, the RV was older, but seemed to be in good repair. The faded red Jeep behind it had knobby tires and had been lifted enough that it’d do very well offroad, if it came to that. Behind them, Harold closed the door on the SUV, dropped a suitcase into the dirt and drove away. Leaving her alone, in the middle of nowhere, with Ethan Masters.

Chapter 5

Ethan opened the side door of the RV and poked his head in. It was neat and clean enough. He stepped into the main body, dropped the suitcase onto the dinette, and took a quick look around. It was compact, that was for sure. There was a queen-sized bed at the very back with no door, a very small bathroom, and a two-burner stove with an old campfire coffee pot. The area over the driver and enger seats could be converted to a bed but he didn't relish sleeping up there. The couch would probably turn down into a double, but it would be way too short for his long legs. Natalie’s either, for that matter. But that was something they could figure out later. Right now they needed to get on the road. Away from Ward and whoever the hell was coming after them besides the cops, that is. Natalie stepped up into the RV behind him, and he could tell it was going to get really crowded really quick. She smelled of lemon, he realized. Fresh, uninvolved. Complex and simple at the same time. It suited her, or at least what he knew of her. He settled into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The engine engaged with a soundless hum. It may look like an old heap, but they'd taken care of what was important. He’d go with the assumption that the generator was in the same condition, and that the waste tanks had already been emptied. Natalie stood next to the dinette, arms crossed, a look of battle on her face. “Who says you're driving?” “I got here first,” he shrugged. “You snooze you lose.” For a second he thought she was going to stamp her foot, and then her face became a blank slate. He knew what that looked like because it was like looking into a mirror. He could tell she hated losing control, probably just as much as he did. So he

settled for a compromise, swept his hand over to the enger seat. “Navigator gets to pick where we're going.” That got her attention. And a small smile. She settled into the enger seat, buckled up. Then sat there for a moment before she turned to him. “I have no idea where to go,” she itted, and he could tell the ission pained her. He cocked his head, studied her. “Me either.” She sat for a long moment, then unbuckled and stood. “We need to change before we go anywhere, anyway,” she said. Damn it, she was right. He’d been so hot to get out of here, he'd forgotten that part. He stood as well, standing so close their bodies were almost touching. And that lemon smell, it washed over him, made him want things he told himself he didn't deserve until his debt was cleared, his soul free. And certainly not from Natalie Flynn. Since he was pretty sure the second part would never happen, the sudden surge of want was far from welcome. He brushed past her, swearing the air crackled between them, then stepped to the dinette, opening the suitcase the laconic Harold had left with them. All the things Mandy had promised were inside. Cargo pants and a metal band t-shirt for him, shorts and a frothy blouse for her. “I’ll step outside,” he said and moved to the door. “Just let me know when you're ready.” He closed the door behind him, letting out a breath. He would swear it was ten degrees cooler out here and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. He had to get his head back on straight, because the last thing he needed was a complication like Natalie Flynn.

Natalie waited until he stepped out and the door had closed before letting out a long shuddering breath. He just got to her. There was no rhyme or reason for it, but he either made her want to get all prickly or melt into a puddle of goo. Considering the situation they were in, neither was a good option. He was everything she told herself she didn't need. A risk taker. For God’s sake he worked for a repossession agency. Those guys got shot at for a living, at least when the recovered things as expensive as the chopper. Not that it was that much different from what she did, what the family did. When she thought that she got pissed off at her father all over again. What the hell had he been thinking? There was no way anyone could convince her he hadn’t known Petra’s true nature. He would’ve done a full workup on the woman before sending Natalie in to offer her an escape hatch. And yet he’d sent her, his daughter, into Ward’s world knowing full well Petra was a predator. Now she was doubting him, which was not good, considering he was one of their only lifelines and intel sources right now. She’d never doubted him before. Been intimidated? Sure. Like she was somehow less in his eyes, separated from him even when they were in the same room. But she’d never truly doubted his wisdom or integrity before today, and it made her feel strange inside, like everything was off balance. She shimmied out of her impractical dress and pulled on the shorts and top. Wondered how Mandy had known her size and realized her father had probably given it to the woman. The fact Mandy had a closet full of clothes she could have Harold put together that quickly just added to the mystery of the woman. From a style standpoint, the shorts and bouse weren’t something she would have chosen, but it did look like something cute a vacationer would wear, and that’s

who she was playing. Playing was the right word. She hadn’t been on a vacation in five years, not one that wasn't work related. Even family vacations turned into work. So that part she’d have to be an actress for. She turned around survey the RV. Realized there was only one bed, and that everything else would be too short for either her or Masters. Which did not bode well for their first night together. Not well at all.

Natalie pushed open the door, stepped out of the RV. Ethan’s breath caught at the sight of her. The outfit was nothing special, but it made her look younger, more carefree, as if she truly were on vacation. With him. He shook his head, brought himself back to center. Time and place, he told himself. Time and place. Which meant not now and not ever with Natalie Flynn. “I think I figured out where to go,” she said. Her flat, professional tone was at complete odds with her appearance. This was a woman who’d seen battle and for that he was grateful. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if she’d been a wilting flower, or someone who needed his constant praise all the time. He wasn’t good at that, as his ex had complained time after time after time, until she finally just walked away. But that was the past. They had a different set of problems in the here and now, and if she had a good idea to get them gone, then he’d love to hear it. “Vegas,” she said. “We’ve got a field office there, along with a safe house and company protection. I realize you and my father have a history of some kind, and as we drive, I’d love to hear it, but right now, I think it’s our only option. No one will look twice at an RV with Texas plates driving on Interstate 40 toward the west. It’s summer, and they’re everywhere.” He held his comments until she’d finished. She’d thought about this while she was changing, more than he had. And he couldn’t say she was wrong, though he wasn’t altogether comfortable with going to Greg Flynn for anything. But heading north, then west was a good idea, and they could flex as needed. But Vegas? He’d lost a good chunk of his life there. Wasn’t sure he was ready to go there again so soon. Then something shifted inside him, driving back the defeatist thoughts. He’d beaten the gambling, the drinking. He could handle Sin City. He could do this. “Agreed,” he said. “But before we get started, are you comfortable driving this rig towing the Jeep? I’ll get us out of here if you navigate, but if we need to

drive separately after that, we’ll need to figure out a rest schedule.” He couldn’t quite pinpoint the expression on her face. It wasn’t relief, wasn’t validation either. What he did know was that she was shocked he’d agreed with her. Had been prepared for an argument. Jesus, what kind of people was she working with? It was a solid idea, one with merit. “I’m fine driving with a tow,” she replied, turned to climb back into the RV. “Thank you,” she said softly, almost as if she didn’t want him to hear her. But he did, and her words drifted on the scent of lemon.

He’d listened to her advice, mulled it over, and agreed. In an operational environment. She liked to talk a big game, even to herself, but when she’d been in North Africa, it’d been as the lead female on the team, the one men and women turned to when they needed comion, or wanted to try to use her feminine heart toward their interests. It’d never worked, but it had always stung. Even Cord, who’d loved her like no one she’d ever known, had let her play that role, because it was the most valuable to the team. In her heart she’d always wondered if it was because she just wasn’t good enough to be the team lead. Her best friend Rebecca, one of the few female on the security teams and her closest confidante since college, had made it clear that Natalie was full of shit, but sometimes even your most stalwart friend couldn’t erase feelings of self doubt. Then Cord had died and she’d had enough of overseas, thank you very much. Going back to the States had seemed like a retreat, but she just couldn’t bear being with the team anymore. Couldn’t stand the pity in their eyes. When her father discovered she and Cord had been a couple, she’d been banished to personal security jobs. Sometimes for the rich and famous, sometimes just for the rich. Through it all, she’d always harbored the suspicion her father blamed her for Cord’s death. That he thought them sleeping together had been the catalyst, when instead it had been bad intel from the Maryland office. Intel that directed them to take a route that was an ambush. The worst part was that her father might not have been entirely wrong. She and Cord had argued that morning over taking the route, since it might be compromised. As lead, Cord had the final say and had taken her father’s word that the route

was safe. When she’d confronted her father about the mission later, he’d assured her it was bad intel from a source they’d trusted in the past. Neither her father nor Cord had particularly cared that her instincts had been wailing. Cord had died because everyone had ignored her gut, but the rest of the team had rallied, gotten their primary out of harm’s way and back to the embassy. No one on the team had ever blamed her, she would have seen it in their eyes, in the way they treated her. And when she said she wanted to leave, go back to the U.S., they’d all understood. Because she and Cord together had been explosive and everyone had known it. Off the charts. Maybe it was the danger. Maybe they’d been destined to be together. In the end it didn’t really matter because he was gone. Her conversation with her father rankled. His downplaying of Petra’s threat, his shift of blame to her, even if it was silent, reminded her of that day five long years ago. Of the love she’d lost. The confidence that had been shattered. Now she was having hot flashes for the man sliding into the driver’s seat of a fifteen-year-old RV and she had absolutely no idea what do to about it…except ignore it. They’d be consummate professionals together, she and Ethan Masters. They’d get to Vegas, into protection, and figure out what the ever-loving fuck had happened with Petra and Ward. And then he’d go back to wherever his repo company was based. Wait. How did she not know that? Even her father seemed to know something about him. He eased the RV out of the shadows of the barn, looked over at her. “Can you close the barn doors by yourself? They’re pretty heavy. I don’t want to that we were here.” She nodded, brought herself back into the here and now. “Give me a sec.”

And as she walked to the barn, slid the big doors closed, reengaged the padlock, she put Ethan Masters firmly into the play-nicely-but-ignore-sexual-sparks box.

Natalie slid into the enger seat, her long legs stretched out in front of her. She twisted in the seat. “I’ll wait to buckle up until I close the gate,” she said, then grabbed one of the two phones he’d liberated from the suitcase Mandy had provided. “While you drive I’ll figure out where we can provision up. We need food, but we need holsters and probably a scanner, anything else you can think of that’ll keep us low profile, but still in the know.” Again, she was right, and seemed to be pretty damned good at the logistician portion of everything. “Sounds good.” He paused, then spoke as he slowly rolled the motorhome and Jeep over the rutted road. “Is this what you do for Arrow? Because you’re excellent at it.” She colored the slightest bit at his compliment, a slight reddening he would never have noticed if he hadn’t glanced over right at that moment. “Sometimes,” she replied. “If we have a female client I’ll act as her companion and the last ring of defense. If it’s a male, then I’m usually on the outer ring… women’s intuition and all that.” The way she said it made it clear she didn’t care for the last bit. “Well, from what I can see, your talents are being wasted.” They pulled up to the gate, sparing her from having to answer him. And then they were on the road, the country road unfurling beneath the tires. “So, logistician,” he said, “How do we get to Interstate 40?” She smiled at him, and the brief glimpse was heart stopping. He wondered how frequently the expression crossed her face. He didn’t think it was often. “You’re going to laugh, but my gut is telling me to head northwest. To Roswell.” He didn’t laugh, but he did smile. “Aliens, huh?” “Yeah,” she nodded and a curtain of hair slid to hide her face. “It’s the very last place in the world anyone would look for us right now. We can lay low for the night, then head for the interstate. It’s twelve hours from Roswell to Vegas, so

we can make it in one day if we need to.” It was a solid plan. “How long to get to Roswell?” “About four hours. We can find a place to hook up the RV and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll need to grab something to eat and our other supplies in Midland, though. There’s nothing big enough between here and Roswell where we wouldn’t stand out.” He agreed. Knew what he was about to say would wipe their camaraderie right off the face of the planet. “I agree. But before we drive another mile, we disable the GPS on our phones and remove your father’s autodial.” Because as much as he was beginning to ire Natalie, he didn’t trust her father as far as he could throw him.

Natalie bit back an angry reply. This was her father. Even if she wasn’t one hundred percent confident in his assessments lately--of missions or of her--they were a team, had been since her mother died. She trusted him to have her back. But Ethan didn’t. And what would it really hurt? Greg had always claimed he could pull a few strings with the NSA and ping any phone he wanted to. She didn’t need to let Ethan know that, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As much as they were in this together, she didn’t know that much about Ethan Masters, and there was no way in hell she was setting off on a cross-country drive without some kind of protection. Namely, Arrow Security. She agreed, catching the quick side glance he shot her way that told her she’d rolled too quickly. But if she scampered to justify it, her actions would look even more suspect. So instead she kept her head down, did as he asked, and did what she was best at… keeping the peace. It didn’t matter that she could kick ass and take names with the best of them, it was her role. Had been from her first day at Arrow. Probably always would be. And when your father ran the company you loved, you buckled down and did as you were told. Midland was a smallish city, about a hundred and forty thousand residents, rich from oil money in the Permian Basin. She closed the Wikipedia page on her burner and pointed them in the direction of the local big box supercenter. “Cash or the visa cards?” she asked as they maneuvered the RV into three parking spaces at the very back of the monstrous parking lot. “Credit. It’s just as expected as cash in stores like these. We’ll want to roll through those as quickly as possible, pull as much cash off as we can.” While she knew how to conceal herself quite successfully, she’d never heard this particular angle before. “Why?” “Because Mandy has the card numbers. Set them up. She, or someone else, can trace them. Until Petra’s caught and taking the rap for Ward’s murder, I’m not taking any chances.”

She could see his point. “We can also buy new cards with the cash as we go, smaller denominations that aren’t so obvious or easy to trace.” “Does it really matter? We’ll be on camera, and they’ll look here eventually.” “Yeah, but I’d rather keep the smallest footprint possible. Also, hoping this whole thing is over for the both of us long before they figure it out,” he replied, his long stride eating up the ground. She easily kept pace, which earned her a quick smile that lit up his face. “We’re going to be on camera almost anywhere we go regardless, so let’s make it count… hitting one place to get almost everything we need, taking the max in cash and gas as well tells them we were here, but not where we’re headed.” “And by going to Roswell, we’re going off the grid a bit,” she finished for him. “Somewhere we should be safe for a few days while Dad figures this out.” He nodded as they approached the front of the store. “Let’s split up. As cliché as this sounds, can you round up the food? I’ll hit the weaponry section for holsters and ammo. Yeah, it’s sexist, but it’ll also draw the least amount of attention.” He was right, as much as it galled her, so she nodded, entered with him, though they automatically staggered themselves, to make it appear that they were just two shoppers coming in at the same time. If someone scrutinized the outdoor footage, they’d see differently, but they’d have to figure out when to look first. She peeled right into the food area while he headed to the back of the store. She had no earthly idea what he liked, so she went with what she’d eat. She found herself lingering over the organics, glossed over the pang it brought. Her mother Hannah had ed her love of cooking to Natalie before she died of cancer almost two decades ago.

Oh, the pie-in-the-sky dreams they’d made up. Of opening a farm-to-fork restaurant. A bistro with fresh soups and salads and casseroles that were locally sourced. And, of course, sweets. Glorious, handmade lemon bars and dolly madisons and cookies. She pushed the memories, the longing for both her mother and her childhood dream, back. There was no place for them in the here and now. Especially since once this was all said and done, she’d be taking over a big part of Arrow Security. Her future. Her legacy. So instead of dreaming, she filled the shopping cart. Eggs, sourdough bread, lunchmeat, condiments. Small fruit tray, large veggie tray. Assorted cheeses. German beer. American wine. Jerky and bagged nuts. Frozen chicken thighs that would take a while to defrost, so should be safe in the RV fridge or a cooler. Frozen burritos. Two bags of Cheetos. Because a girl had to live. She ran through the self-checkout because she didn’t feel like making conversation, much less eye , with anyone here. Pulled an additional two hundred in cash off the card, then hit the ATM at the front of the store for three hundred more. She rolled the cart out to the back of the parking lot, was unloading the groceries as Ethan strolled up with several big bags of his own. “Do you want to eat here, now, or grab something fresh before we hit the road?” she asked. She wasn’t altogether comfortable falling into the female role of chief cook and bottle washer, but she did have the makings in her hands. “I need to eat,” he said. “How does Mexican sound? I chatted up my salesclerk and he said there’s a great chain place on the way to the freeway, but to avoid the taqueria on the west side of town at all costs.” The overall disgust in his tone told her more than his words had. She smiled, made sure it was all teeth. “Let me guess… he was pissed off at the world in general, but Mexicans especially?”

“Yup,” Ethan agreed. “Which means I’m all over the taqueria, if you’re game.” “Go ahead and get started while I put the rest of this stuff away,” she said. It was an RV, after all. No need for them to remain stationary while she finished unpacking. He settled into the dinette, started opening his own bags. “I want to switch out the phones first.” Her head popped up in alarm. “What do you mean, switch out the phones?” He hit her with that patient hazel gaze. “We need to disappear, truly. That means no ties to Mandy.” She opened her mouth, then closed it. Waited a second, then thought fuck it to herself and forged on. “I need to know my father can track us, in case it goes sideways. I don’t know you. Would have never met you. So how can you ask me to do this?” He sat back, weighing her words. “You don’t know me. And shouldn’t trust me. So how about we come to a compromise? Your father asked that you check in every four hours, correct?” She nodded. Wondered why she hadn’t scoped out where the knives were first. “If you call him with a burner, and we agree that’s sufficient until we’re in Vegas, would that be okay?” “And if I don’t check in, then how’s he supposed to find me?” He tilted his head, considering. Not her, he was looking past her, at the overhead storage compartments, as if all the answers could be found there. “When you check in, give him a safe word, so neither of you is worried I’ll coerce you. Call him at lunch, turn on the GPS for the call. It’ll give him a general direction, but not close enough to put a bullet between my eyes.” She jerked up at his words. “What are you talking about? He’d never do anything like that!” The smile he gifted her with this time was more of a grimace. “Whatever you

say, sunshine. Just understand there are things about your father you don’t know. Now, are we agreed?” What if she said no? Just flat-out objected? What was he going to do? Tie her up and hold her hostage? Put her on the street? So she squared her shoulders, planted her feet. Got ready to challenge him. He looked at her, and his shoulders dropped, almost in defeat. “Please, Natalie? I’ve got… issues when it comes to your father, so having him monitoring my every move isn’t exactly on the top of my damned list.” He pulled a bottle of pepper spray out of the bag. “Here. You can spray the ever-loving shit out of me if you need to, but please let me have this.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I would never, ever hurt a woman, or voluntarily leave a woman behind.” The sincerity in his voice was total, and she could tell he meant each and every word. Well hell. How was she supposed to say no to that? Her internal com was telling her he was totally on the level, that he wouldn’t hurt her, but she grabbed the bottle anyway. Because she was a woman alone, and not an idiot. Then she looked at the bed behind her and wondered how in the hell they were going to deal with that. But that was for later. After she’d checked in with her father. After they’d eaten and put a few hours between them and Midland. Maybe she’d come up with a brilliant idea. But she didn’t think so, because suddenly she was really damned tired.

Chapter 6

Ethan hadn’t imagined himself getting into a good-natured argument with Natalie Flynn over music, but there it was. The RV wasn’t new enough to have a Bluetooth interface, so they were stuck with the radio. The AM radio, which only seemed to play talk radio and country western music. Normally he wasn’t totally opposed to country, but in this case the tinny radio made the genre sound extra twangy. Not something he was in the mood for right now. So Natalie had found something on her phone, claiming that the navigator got to pick the music. Which he was pretty sure was one hundred percent wrong, but it was only for a few hours. Since he was out of choices as he maneuvered the RV down the two-lane road he found himself listening to K-pop of all things. Natalie seemed to have an affinity for BTS, and as much as he was loath to it it, the beat kept his toes tapping. Not that he would ever say that aloud. So instead he did the dude thing and complained when the next song came on, asking for Zeppelin or the Stones instead. To which she rolled her eyes and turned up the volume. The three and a half hours to Roswell ed quickly, and it seemed a hell of a lot more like an enjoyable road trip than them being on the run from unnamed bad guys. Natalie called one of the RV parks, was lucky enough to snag their last site located in the back of the facility. From what she saw in the gallery photos on the park’s website, if they needed to leave the RV, they could easily flee in the Jeep after bumping over some low barriers meant to deter cars. They pulled in and paid the nightly fee. With summer in full swing, there were few open spots around them, and the campers who were out and about seemed to be festive, for some reason. And their clothes were weird. But whatever. They took care of the hookups first, following step-by-step instructions on

YouTube, then settled into the dinette, the burner phone Ethan had purchased between them. Anything that would identify the number as theirs had been stripped, or at least as much as it could be. Ethan was one hundred percent sure Flynn could and would try to locate which tower their cell signal was pinging off of, but he’d also bet that it wouldn’t be fast. Not if they kept the call reasonably short and didn’t verbalize their location. He nodded to Natalie and she dialed the number from memory, turning on the speaker. “Hey Dad,” she said, when Flynn picked up the receiver. “Are you okay?” Ethan had to it he sounded worried. Which might have made his reservations about dealing with the man lessen if he hadn’t already been at the shit end of Arrow Security dealings. “We’re fine,” she answered. “Laying low.” “Where?” Flynn demanded, his voice hard now. Ethan cocked his head at Natalie. They’d discussed how to do this, but he’d understand if she needed him to play the hardass. She shook her head. Answered. “Undisclosed location, at least for right now. Can’t be sure who’s monitoring the lines.” Flynn was silent for a long moment, then… “Are you safe?” There was a threat in his voice for Ethan. “I’m fine. In fact, we’re just getting ready to grab a bite to eat. Maybe have some chocolate ice cream after.” Ethan heard a barely audible sigh of relief over the speaker, realized that the ice cream flavor was a code of some kind. Likely a safe phrase. Which was standard procedure so didn’t exactly set Flynn up for father of the year. But the man had sounded worried. Ethan wished he’d had the inclination, earlier, to do a full background check on

Flynn, but he’d spent his time trying to fix things, himself, instead. “All right, then,” Flynn said. “Here’s what we know. Petra disappeared with the chopper. No one’s seen it, and the transponder went dark about fifteen minutes after she took it. So either she had a team ready to fly to, or knew how to turn it off. I’m going with option two, since she obviously knows how to fly, and Ward was the type to put a kill switch on the transponder. Masters,” he directed his line of questioning to Ethan. “Did you see anything like that while you had it in the air?” Ethan ran through the in his mind. “Nothing that was visible. But Natalie said he was a braggart, liked to talk out of his ass. It’s entirely possible he told Petra where it was, if she asked. He’d never suspect why, or that she was capable of flying the aircraft.” Flynn grunted. “You two are still on the top of the list when it comes to persons of interest. Petra as well, obviously. As of right now, it’s just the local cops, but I expect the alphabet soup agencies are on their way. Someone’s going to figure out Petra was a potential foreign agent and bring in the feds. We’re not sure what’s going on with Ward’s men, but you can bet they’re looking for you as well. I should know more later tonight, so stay low and check in at twenty-one hundred.” It came out as an order, and everything in Ethan tensed. He didn’t work for Flynn, didn’t take orders from the man or his company. Natalie interrupted, smoothing the waters. “We’ll call, Dad. We’re fine. Wellequipped thanks to Mandy. If things don’t chill out in the next twenty-four hours, we’ll sit down and come up with a plan. But for now, we’re okay.” “You keep her safe, Masters.” His tone held the tiniest bit of vulnerability, then he disconnected before Ethan could reply. “I can keep myself safe, you know,” Natalie said, and her face had taken on that blank, bland look again. Like she was hiding from her father. From him. Ethan wanted to wipe the expression off her face. Wanted to see her with the silly smile she’d had while torturing him with South Korean pop. But that wasn’t his place.

Never would be, because he was Ethan Masters, a recovering gambler still twenty-five grand in debt to his boss. A man who’d allowed two women to be almost certainly killed because he was following orders. She was Natalie Flynn. The daughter of the man who was complicit in the deaths Ethan had aided. Who worked for a company he abhorred. He slid out of the dinette, pushed open the door. “I need some air.” And distance from Natalie Flynn.

Well, that had gone well. Not. Her father wasn’t exactly the warm and cuddly sort, and had shut down even more after her mother died. But Ethan didn’t know that, didn’t need to. Cord had known, of course, he’d been one of Greg Flynn’s original hires, as a Green Beret who’d mustered out for better money. And then Cord was gone as well, and it was just her and Dad. But Greg’s distance over the last few years, when he should have held her close, had put up barriers she wasn’t sure they could ever overcome. To hear him order Ethan to keep her safe had been bittersweet. It showed he still cared, deep down, but also said that he didn’t trust her to take care of herself. Didn’t see her as a true asset to a team, just an ornamental one who happened to be exceedingly well trained. She understood Ethan’s brusque departure. He didn’t owe her or her father one damned thing. Had, in fact, been doing them a favor before Petra screwed everything up. And he clearly stated he had problems with her father. Right now her curiosity was killing her, but given how perturbed he’d been, she’d wait to ask those questions. Because she was pretty sure he’d want information in return, and she wasn’t ready to go there yet. Not when he was starting to ring every one of her bells, which was the polar opposite of what she really needed. The next few days were going to be a minefield of her own making. She stood, looked in the cooler for something to snack on, found nothing of interest, then pulled out her phone. Food was always an excellent peace offering, and from what Dad said, they had a little bit of time before they truly needed to drop off the map and live on the cooler’s contents. Black Betty BBQ looked truly amazing and she had yet to meet a man who wasn’t swayed by excellent brisket or pulled pork. Plus, she seriously doubted they’d be identified at a local food truck.

Mind made up, she grabbed the keys to the RV and Jeep and stepped out of the motorhome to find Ethan unhooking the Jeep. Maybe great minds thought alike. She sure hoped so. When he raised his head, she could almost see an apology in his expression, but then his expression went blank again. He stood and she tossed him the keys. “How does barbeque sound?” That small smile kicked up the corner of his mouth, set her heart beating faster. “Barbeque sounds fantastic. Show me the way.”

It was hard to stay pissy around Natalie, Ethan thought as they settled down at a weathered picnic table, ready to dig into what looked to be ridiculously good barbeque. She smoothed things over so effortlessly he could tell she’d been doing it for a very long time. And she wasn’t her father. He needed to keep reminding himself of that. She and Greg Flynn were completely opposite when it came to how they dealt with people. And with their values. Natalie could have easily hunkered down with Mandy and waited for extraction and left him on his own. Or at least thought about it, verbalized it. But it had never crossed her mind. They were in this together, had each other’s backs. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in almost a decade, since he left the Air Force. He took the first bite of his Cowboy Bob sandwich, barely held back a groan as the brisket, fire roasted green chile and provolone hit his tongue. The side of ribbon fries looked just as good, as did the order of onion rings between them. Natalie had her arm curved around her own choice of a pulled pork sandwich like she was afraid he was going to steal some of her mac and cheese, which he actually might consider. He inhaled the first half of his sandwich, then slowed down to savor. With his attention no longer consumed by his sandwich, he could really take in their surroundings. The food truck was close to the center of town today, and from the chatter he’d heard when they were queuing up for food, the annual UFO conference, Alien Fest, kicked off in two days. Since the RV park was on the outskirts of town, they hadn’t seen the business signage welcoming all the little green—and grey—men to town, but now their fellow campers’ attire of elongated sunglasses, colorful outfits and fantastic headgear made a lot more sense. Hell, even the pooches were dressed up. He laughed almost silently, catching Natalie’s attention. When she raised an eyebrow he gestured around them, to the banner that was even now being raised over the main drag.

“They completely embrace it,” he said, making sure his tone wasn’t derogatory. Sometimes with an accent like his it was easy to assume stones were being thrown. “Why wouldn’t they?” Natalie asked as she snagged an onion ring, popped it in her mouth and sighed just a little in appreciation. Ethan’s attention was completely centered on her mouth, so much so that it took him a moment to come back to reality when she finished her thought. “I mean, yeah, it’s ludicrous, but so is going to Disneyland. It’s entertainment, and nowadays, everyone needs the opportunity to let go, even if for just a little while.” He sat back, contemplated her across the picnic table. She was right, and her words struck something deep inside that he’d been holding at bay for a very long time. Three years, to be exact. Maybe it was because his debt was almost paid. Would be when he recovered the damn chopper from Petra. And he would do that, as soon as he got Natalie safely to Vegas and in the arms of Arrow Security. He wanted to have fun. Enjoy something. It’d been a long damn time since he’d done that. Yeah, repossessions could be a rush, but the buzz died as soon as the adrenalin faded. But being with her right now, eating great barbeque and watching a town come alive with alien nonsense? He was enjoying it, even though they were on the run. Enjoying it just a little too much. He forced himself to answer her observation, even though he was having an epiphany. “I guess you’re right. There’s not a bit of harm to it.” He polished off the last of his sandwich, grabbed an onion ring. “We need more of this for tomorrow, when we hit the road.” She nodded an enthusiastic agreement. “They sell by the pound, and the RV has a microwave. Dibs on the pulled pork.” Her tone suggested she’d be willing to

do battle for the pork, if necessary. He laughed, almost surprised himself with the sound. “You got it, sunshine.” He froze as soon as the endearment left his mouth. It’d been okay when they didn’t know each other, or when he was using it to put distance between them. But now, here? It was too close, too intimate. Especially with the thoughts that’d been crossing his mind. He was on the verge of apology when her grin cut through his discomfort. “Watch it with the nicknames, Masters, otherwise I’ll start to think you like me,” she stood, collected their trash and headed for the food truck window to order more to go. He sat there, shellshocked for a moment. If only she knew.

The expression on his face had been mortified. But she recognized it as the embarrassment of words actually being spoken, rather than being internalized. She did it often enough herself to know of which she spoke. She wasn’t altogether sure how she felt about the nickname. He’d called her that before he knew who she was, but apparently the name had stuck in his head. She decided she liked it, but wouldn’t ever let him know. Seeing Ethan Masters off his game just a little was refreshing. She ordered a pound of brisket and pulled pork and some mac and cheese, paid, then moved off to the side of the window to make room for the next customer. A small television was mounted inside the food truck, muted, but tuned to the local news. She supposed there wasn’t a lot of breaking news for a community of fifty thousand like Roswell, but she was used to the eastern seaboard and the continuous barrage of badness. Given their business model of protecting heads of state and industry, in addition to celebrities, they had to be on top of world events all the time, know who to keep on the radar and who they could ignore. It was nice to watch the anchors talk about the prep for the coming festival instead. She felt, rather than saw, Ethan walk up behind her, was turning to make a snarky comment, when a change on the screen caught her eye. She turned back to the television and tried not to gasp. It was her and Ethan, right there, in all their glory. She involuntarily stepped back, as if to flee, but Ethan was behind her, blanketed her with solid security. “It’s okay. We don’t look anything like that right now.” She took a breath. Really looked, and realized he was correct. His photo was from the military, his hair shorn close, a cocky smile on his face as he hammed it up with fellow pilots, the brown and buff tones of the desert behind him. He looked young, free, invincible. The man at her back had flashes of that boy, but in the here and now his hair was shaggy, his goatee further shadowing his features, and his eyes were haunted.

Her picture, on the other hand, was much more recent. Like last week recent, when she’d been shadowing a pop star to an awards ceremony. Because of that, she was dressed to the nines. She’d insisted on a pantsuit to keep her range of motion, but the sparkly coal-black catsuit was, if anything, splashier than the Versace with a thigh-high slit her charge had worn. Right now she looked a hundred and eighty degrees different. Just mascara for makeup, her newly-shortened hair pulled into a pony, covered with a pastel ball cap. Wearing shorts and a sunny, frothy blouse. She blew out a breath as the cashier pushed their order out of the window, thanked them for their business. Nodding in return, she turned, fell into step with Ethan. He escorted her to the Jeep with a hand at her back, and the slight sent warmth tumbling through her. He popped the takeout into the back seat, then closed her door for her before heading around the front of the vehicle. Once he climbed in, he blew out a breath. “Well, we made the news,” his tone was resigned. She was still trying to compare the two different Ethans that she’d been presented. Wondered what had happened to the carefree pilot she’d seen on the television. Wondered what in the hell her father had to do with it. Because she was sure he did. “You’re right, though,” she finally said. “We look nothing like that now. It’s almost as if they put up the pictures that looked least like us.” As soon as the words crossed her lips she smiled. Knew what had happened. “This is one hundred percent Dad at work.” Ethan considered her for a long moment before starting up the Jeep and heading back to the RV. “How so?” “You know as well as I do that he’s got s everywhere. He pulled the photos that were the opposite of what we look like now. Gave them to someone in the Dallas Police Department to use.” She paused, thought a moment longer. “That’ll only last so long, though. Eventually they’ll put out the footage from the

rooftop cams and the lobby.” His heavy sigh told her she was right. But at least they had a bit of a reprieve, enough time to get to Vegas and a safe house until Petra was found. The running stuck in her craw, but right now she didn’t know what else to do. They had a good thing going for the time being, and continuing on with the plan seemed to be the safest thing to do. But as dusk started to close in, today sure seemed like the longest day of her life.

Chapter 7

Ethan pulled the Jeep in beside the RV. He was twitchy and couldn’t really pinpoint why. There was no way anyone could have identified them from those pictures. Those pictures. Jesus. Natalie had looked stunning, like she belonged on the runway rather than the diva she was bodyguarding. A lick of lust curled up his spine as he ed those mile-long legs and thigh-high boots. He shook his head, dislodging those images, replacing them with the photos of him, of his brothers in arms. That’d been a good day. They’d brought a wounded Airman home, saved his life. Had been celebrating a win. He was pretty sure it was the last day he was truly a happy man. And that’d been almost ten years ago. Natalie climbed into the RV and began stowing the food. He paced outside, trying to walk off his nerves. He got snappy when he was like this, and the close confines of the RV were just a little too intimate for his liking. Around him nightfall had begun to settle in, and with the darkening skies, the temperature began to drop into the eighties. Above him the stars began to peek through. With their campsite on the outskirts of town, there wasn’t as much ambient light, so the bowl of the sky looked like velvet. Natalie came out with a glass of wine in her hand, sat on the top of their assigned picnic bench, handed him a beer from their stash. He forced himself to set it down, when all he wanted to do was guzzle the whole damned thing. But that man was a year behind him and he never wanted to go back to those dark days again. Other couples and families around them were settling in to enjoy the falling temperatures as they chatted amongst themselves. Ethan dipped a nod at the two closest sites, friendly but not memorable, and ed Natalie on the table.

“We’re going to be okay, you know,” she said. “Once we get to Vegas we use all of Arrow’s resources to hunker down until they find Petra.” “What if they don’t, Natalie?” he asked, finally putting voice to some of his concerns. “What if she was here to do a job and has already left the country? She could have easily headed south, into Mexico, with that chopper. What if we’ve been the fall guys for Ward’s murder all along?” He was happy that she took her time considering her words rather than just blowing them off. “I don’t see her heading to Mexico,” she said, taking a sip of her glass of wine. “Petra may have fooled me when it comes to what she was, but all of the times we talked about getting her across the border? She didn’t like the idea one little bit. That woman wants to stay in the States. I think she’ll ditch the chopper, it’s too hot right now, and completely disappear. “Maybe killing Ward was her one-way ticket here. Maybe she’s gone deep and has another target. Either way, you and I are the face of this because it’s easier to send the feds after you and me, as U.S. citizens. No-one wants to put an international face on the six o’clock news right now. It’d spook the herd in addition to ramping up the racists.” Now it was Ethan’s turn to consider. To turn her words over in his mind, get a taste of them. And he had to it she was right. To his thinking Petra had been one hundred percent assassin, there to take Ward out for whatever reason. He honestly didn’t care. Ward had been a dick of monumental proportions and the world was a better place without him in it. But yeah, the Dauphin was memorable and a pretty woman who looked about fifteen piloting it? Even more conspicuous. She’d likely ditch it when she was getting low on gas. And if they could find her before the feds, get their narrative out there first? It would make life about a thousand percent easier for everyone but Petra. He ran through a map in his head. She could make Albuquerque on fumes, but would have to figure out a way through the mountain ranges. It would be smarter for her to head north to Oklahoma, set the aircraft down out of Texas jurisdiction.

Beside him, Natalie sat still, waiting for him to think it through. She took another sip of her wine and the movement brought her scent to him again, lemon, light, airy, like the frilly blouse she wore and suddenly he wanted to taste her. To feel the heat that seemed to spark through them whenever they touched. It was a horrible idea, but over the past day he’d seen past her beauty and discovered the smart, savvy woman beneath. Petra could wait. He wasn’t sure this could. He turned to her, saw her do the same, saw her gray eyes go to a low smolder at the expression on his face. “At least we’re on the same page,” she murmured, then tipped her face up to his.

Kissing Ethan Masters was probably one of the worst ideas of her life, but damn it if it didn’t seem like the right thing to do in this second, in this moment. His lips were a soft as they’d looked this morning, and the whiskers of his goatee were a cross between a tickle and a caress as he slanted his head, kissed her harder, his lips molding to hers, sending a streak of heat through her body, waking up parts that had been dead for a long five years. He grunted as if in surprise, then framed her face in his hands and nibbled on her lips. She sighed in response, opened for him, and tasted him for the first time. She stroked her tongue over his, learning him, breathing him in as her body softened and her nipples peaked. She’d never been so turned on this fast. To hell with being sensible, she was ready to grab him by the shirt and drag him into the RV, test out the queen size bed. But a snicker to their left pulled her out of her haze and she pulled away slowly, ing they were making out on a picnic bench in a RV park in Roswell, New Mexico. Ethan kept her face in his hands, as if she was something precious. Ghosted one last kiss across her lips, then pulled away. Shot a death glance at the teenagers on the bench two slots over. “Fucking kids.” She smiled in response, took a tiny sip of her wine to regain her composure. “Do we need to talk about this?” He turned back to her. “Do we need to? I don’t think so. Should we? Probably. And about more than a kiss that burned my world down.” Her heart beat in triple time at the ission and she began to lean back into him again but brought herself up short. “Public place,” she reminded herself, then smiled again as he laughed softly. He blew out a big breath. “Not to change the subject, but you’re right. Petra would ditch the Dauphin. Stay

low to the ground and out of regular airspace, then abandon it when and where she could. But she couldn’t have possibly known where we’d gas up, so her exit plan had to be fluid. Very fluid.” He stood. Paced, just like he had before she’d come out. “I need to check in with Rob, see if he’s heard anything.” Natalie nodded, glad he’d gone back to their existential dilemma. She’d been two seconds away from kissing him again, good idea be damned. “Dad needs to know what we’ve just figured out as well. At this point, I don’t see any reason not to tell him about Vegas. We’ll be there in a day, two max, and he can set some things in motion.”

Ethan still didn’t like it, but couldn’t see the harm in it, not now. So he nodded and dialed Rob. “About freakin’ time you checked in,” his boss said, his voice a low growl. Ethan knew he was imagining it, but the man almost sounded…worried? “You need to bug out of Roswell right now. There’s a team inbound with a warrant for your arrest. Not Natalie Flynn’s, just yours. You’ve been burned, Ethan. Acquire wheels and get the fuck out of there. You’ve got fifteen minutes, max, before they get there.” Ethan stood there for precious seconds, his brain trying to process Rob’s cursing and the fact he was wired in so well, and then he was in motion. He’d figure out how the hell Rob had known their location later. His boss had always had his back, and he wasn’t about to start doubting that now. Natalie was on the phone with her father, telling him about Vegas. There was a tiny smile on her face. One he was about to rip off. He took the phone from her hand. “Fuck you, Flynn. Fuck you very much.” Then he hung up the phone, grabbed the keys from the dinette. He turned to Natalie. Wondered if their dinner and conversation and kisses had just been a stalling tactic. Everything inside him said no, but Petra had fooled him as well. “Dear old Dad’s turned me over to the feds. Team inbound right now, gunning for me. Not you, not Petra. Me. So thanks, Princess.” He grabbed the knapsack he hadn’t bothered to unpack, the to-go bag from the barbeque place. Extra ammo for his weapon. Natalie watched him with what could only be described as true shock. Then she reached out, grabbed his forearm. “Ethan, stop. Stop.” He whirled, ripped his arm from her grasp. “I don’t have time. They’ll be here any minute. I’m not going down for this, Natalie, I won’t. Your family has the power to bury me six feet under. I’m surprised they didn’t three years ago. Stay here. You’ll be fine. It’s me they’re looking for.” He looked around the RV, knowing his gaze was a little wild, but dammit, he needed to get gone. He had food, ammo. He patted his pockets. A bit of cash. He couldn’t dare use the cards Mandy had given them. Or could he? “Give me all of the cash cards,” he demanded. “I’ll drain them of what I can on

the way out of town, since they already know I’m here.” “They already know we’re here,” she said, emphasizing the ‘we’ part, and turned back to face him, her own backpack slung over one shoulder. “We’ll be faster and more agile in the Jeep.” She looked back at the bed longingly, then stepped forward, into his space. “I don’t know what the hell is going on right now, but we’re a team, Ethan Masters. And we’ll figure it out when we have a little breathing room. Now let’s get gone.” Something about her had turned hard-edged in the past few seconds. Whatever it was, her lickable mouth had tightened into a firm line, and her gray eyes had turned glacial. Dollars to doughnuts it had something to do with Greg Flynn. He looked at her for a moment, too long given their tight timeline, then nodded, his motions choppy. “Phones stay here. Period.” “Agreed,” she said, “But I have something to do with it before we leave town. I promise it doesn’t go with us further than the Roswell city limits. Now let’s go.”

“R oswell is big enough to lose ourselves in for five minutes, right?” she asked as they sped away from the campground after loading the cooler and any other things they could gather quickly into the back of the Jeep. “Sure. I need to get cash and we need to change plates. I’d lift another car, but the Jeep serves a better purpose if we stay on side roads.” “I’m going to call my father, while you get cash.” When he started to protest she cut him a look. “We’ll already be showing our hand by grabbing the cash, right?” He nodded, reluctantly. “So let me talk to Dad. See what he has to say. It can’t hurt, right?” Famous last words, she realized, as they left her mouth. She’d said the same thing not ten minutes ago, when she’d convinced Ethan to tell her father about Vegas. He shot her a look that was past angry, and she knew they’d need to talk about what her family, her father, had done to him. Soon. Because if they were going on the run, there couldn’t be secrets between them. It’d taken her all of ten seconds to know her father had the capacity to do something like this. She’d just never imagined she’d be front and center to witness it. Or that the utter betrayal coursing through her would feel so devastating. Because she knew exactly how her father had found them. They crossed to the other side of town, tucking themselves in an alley behind the food truck they’d so recently left and walked to an ATM. Since the feds were looking for Ethan, not her, she withdrew everything she could, which amounted to about nine hundred bucks. More than enough to see them through a few days, especially since they’d grabbed some of the supplies they’d bought earlier in the day. Then they sat in the alley and she called her father. Put him on speaker. “Natalie, where the hell are you?” he asked, and with those words, he confirmed

everything she feared. “Why are you framing Ethan?” she asked, keeping her voice cold. Professional. “We don’t have time for this. Go back to the RV park, meet up with the team and get on with your life. Don’t let Masters fuck it up.” “See, Dad, here’s where you’re mistaken. Ethan isn’t fucking up my life. You are. I’ve got a locator on me, don’t I?” It hadn’t taken a great leap to figure that out. “At first I wondered if it was the RV, but that was so amateurish, not like you at all. And Mandy seemed like more of a pro than that.” She fiddled with the locket around her neck. The one piece of jewelry she was never without. The one she was ninety-nine percent sure her father had tagged her with. How long had he been following her every move? When had he stopped trusting her? And how could she possibly take over the company now? “I always thought, after Cord died, that you didn’t trust me. That you thought he died because I’d compromised him.” He started to interrupt her, but she bowled right over him. “He didn’t. It was bad intel, coming from you, that got him killed. And now, you’ve put Ethan’s life and reputation at risk. For what? At least tell us that much, before I take off this necklace, drop this phone and walk away from you. Maybe forever.” The silence on the end of the line was thunderous. “Can’t have Petra connected to the business,” he finally said. And that was all she needed. “Goodbye, Greg.” She powered down the phone, stepped out of the Jeep and took off her locket. Placed it on top of the phone, tucked it into the bottom of a drainpipe. It wouldn’t do for some unsuspecting homeless person to get jacked up because her father had more power than good sense. Than plain decency. She bit back a sob as she climbed back into the Jeep. “Drive.” She grabbed the oh-shit handle as Ethan punched it, and pushed back the tears. They had no place in the here and now. Maybe not even in the future.

Ethan wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he knew he was getting out of Roswell, and damned soon. First they needed another phone, and they needed to switch license plates. So he veered into a residential neighborhood, drove until he found a Jeep a year or two older than the one he was driving. The two vehicles were almost identical, right down to the faded red color. The neighborhood was starting to bed down on a Wednesday night, so he continued around the corner, and then left Natalie staring sightlessly out the enger window as he crept back with a screwdriver. Six minutes later and the plates were switched. It probably would give them a day or two before the owner or a neighbor noticed the vehicle had Texas plates now, but by then they’d either have finished this or would be so deep under it wouldn’t matter. He slid back into the driver’s seat. “Done. Now we need a new phone.” She turned to look at him. Her eyes were clear and dry, but haunted looking, like she’d lost something in the conversation with her father. Or maybe in the locket. Either way, it sucked, and they could talk about it later. “Just like with the ATM,” she said. “I’ll do it. Drive north, hug the main drag but don’t go directly on it. There’ll be a convenience store that sells burners, guaranteed. And the kind of store I’m looking for doesn’t ask questions.” He nodded, pulled back into the street, looped around until they were paralleling the main drag. He knew she was a trained bodyguard, but how and why she knew stuff like this was yet another mystery. The mystery of Natalie. “There,” she pointed, and sure enough, a semi-rough looking gas station was tucked against the main road. “Hang tight for a second.” She withdrew eighty dollars from their stash and slipped from the Jeep, her stride sure, almost at odds with the vacation vibe of her clothes. Ethan relaxed in the seat, his senses still alert as he scanned the area. His weapon was still in his knapsack. He wasn’t looking to get shot if the feds found them.

He could maybe talk his way out of a jail cell. Maybe. But he couldn’t talk his way out of a bullet to the head. And as he waited, he ran through the last few minutes in his mind. By his calculations, the Marshals were likely just hitting the campsite. It had to be part of the Marshal’s Fugitive Task Force, it was the only group that’d make sense given his background. And Natalie’s. Because they were both known to be armed, and had the training to be dangerous. After all, it was the Task Force’s specialty, and they had offices all around the country. Shit. The betrayal he’d heard in Natalie’s voice had ripped at his heart. How long had she suspected her father of tracking her? Of distrusting her? He couldn’t imagine having that kind of relationship with his kid. He and Aimee had talked about having children, but it seemed like he was always deployed, and then one day he’d come home from downrange and she’d been gone. So not having kids had seemed like a pretty capital idea at the time. Natalie slid back into the seat. “Head west. The cashier said there’s a bunch of off-road trails over near Capitan. We can hole up there until we come up with a plan.” Ethan considered her for a long moment. “And he just told you that?” She stared back. “I might have given her the impression you were helping me hide from an abusive husband. And that’s why we needed the phone. And to hide.” As plans went, it was a damned good one. So he put the Jeep into drive and headed west.

Natalie didn’t think she’d ever been more tired. More heartsick. She thought she’d felt every emotion possible when Cord died, but betrayal? Nope, that one hadn’t been on her ticket then. Now it totally was. They drove the hour west in silence, and she was grateful Ethan gave her that mental space. She wasn’t sure she even had the energy to break it all down, not right now, and more than anything she wanted to talk to her best friend Rebecca. But she couldn’t, because Becca worked for Arrow Security just like she did. She wouldn’t put her friend in the position where she’d have to lie to her boss if asked her if Natalie had called. But she really could have used Becca’s advice. Both on the situation at hand and the explosive kiss she and Ethan had shared. That still made her body ache and was a damned pleasant diversion from everything else. What she wanted was a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, but she was ninety-nine percent sure that wasn’t going to happen. Not if her brain kept skipping down the kissing path. They began to signs pointing to the off-road area, but drove past the first, then the second, before Ethan settled on turning up the rutted path of the third. The bounced along what appeared to be a road for about ten minutes before he pulled into a grove of trees. Pulled further in, so they couldn’t be seen from even the sorta-road, unless you were really looking. He killed the lights, turned to her. “If you want me to drop you off in Capitan in the morning, I will.” “I know you will, but it’s not going to happen, at least not yet, okay?” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “Now can we set up? I’m tired and getting cranky.” He freed himself as well and gave her a finger salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Chapter 8

Ethan pulled out the cooler and the stuff they’d been able to grab before fleeing the RV park, then dropped the enger seats to make room in the back. It wasn’t going to be comfortable, but at this point they both needed sleep, so when they started again in the morning, it’d be with clear heads. Natalie was in the bushes, taking a bathroom break, and he thanked whatever deity was watching over them that she’d thought to grab the toilet paper from the RV. He still didn’t quite know what to do with the fact Natalie had stayed with him, rather than waiting for the Marshals. He knew she was pissed at Flynn, and while he understood that anger, it wasn’t in proportion to the potential danger of staying with him. He suspected it had something to do with whoever the mysterious Cord was and how he’d died. Regardless, it was closing in on midnight now and the temperature was starting to plummet, even at the end of June. He eyeballed the two sleeping bags, wondered how he was going to broach the concept of combining the bags to amplify their body heat. They needed a good night’s sleep and with the summer clothes they were wearing, it would be wiser to go with the double bag. He wasn’t sure how happy he was about the concept of spending the night next to her. His body was plenty enthused, but his brain ed this evening’s kiss and how easy it would have been to spin out of control if they hadn’t been in public. And they sure as hell weren’t in public now. Natalie returned, stood beside him looking at the bedrolls. Sighed.

“We both know what has to be done. Let’s zip ‘em together.” Knowing she was just as leery about putting them together was a comfort, somehow. They made quick work of it, balling up extra clothes as pillows, and scrunched themselves into the back of the Jeep. “Thank everything holy this is a four-door,” Natalie said in the darkness. “We’d be on the ground if it’d been the smaller version.” She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t what kept Ethan from answering. It was the heat of her next to him, the scent of her that went straight to his head, reminded him of their kiss, of the sparks they’d been throwing since this morning. So he grunted in response and thought of baseball scores and murderous but delicate-looking assassins. And fell asleep.

Ethan snored. Not much, but just enough to keep Natalie awake for a few minutes longer than him. Just long enough to think freely for the first time today, undistracted by Petra or Ethan. The heat coming off of him was amazing, and she snuggled closer, reveling in the safety of the cocoon they’d created, even if it was only for a few hours. Realized she’d trusted him implicitly with her safety, trusted him not to take advantage of her. Hell, he’d even given her pepper spray to fend him off. He’d shown himself to be an honorable man in so many different ways over the course of this long day. A day that seemed like it had lasted a week. A month. She’d run the gamut of emotions… from satisfaction in getting Petra out of Ward’s hands to mortification that the woman had played her. Wary confusion on meeting Mandy, who her father obviously knew, to his betrayal of Ethan. His betrayal of her. And as much as those things made her want to curl up inside, the thing keeping her ready to face the next morning was the man beside her. His steady, unassuming . His drugging kisses. The solidity of him next to her now. She’d always been the one to take care of things, of people, but Ethan, whether he realized it or not, had stepped into that role with her in only one day. And it scared her. She was running on empty, didn’t have a soul to talk to except him. Didn’t want tunnel vision to make him out to be more than he was. But the feeling in her gut that said he was exactly what he portrayed hadn’t abated, just grown stronger. In a few short hours she’d need to decide what to do. To analyze whether she’d knee-jerked in her reaction to her father, or if she wanted to have Ethan drive her in to Capitan in the morning, make a call, and start working on clearing Ethan’s name from the inside.

The idea had a lot of merit. She couldn’t do much from the road besides endanger both herself and Ethan. Because she could quite easily see Greg spinning this as a potential kidnapping, or Stockholm syndrome at the very least. And more than anything, she didn’t want to see Ethan hurt. With that thought drifting through her consciousness, she fell asleep.

Ethan woke the next morning, back sore from the minimal padding of the cargo area, but with a warm, delicious smelling woman wrapped around him. He savored the after so very long without. Inhaled the essence of her, all woman and curves and fiery intelligence before he regretfully began to untangle himself. He didn’t want to wake her up with his morning wood pressing against her, but of course that’s what happened as soon as he started to shift away. She murmured something unintelligible, snuggled even closer, then let out a satisfied sigh and rubbed up against him like a cat. He held himself stiffly (ha ha) and did baseball stats in his mind again. Three, two, one… she came awake enough to realize exactly what she was feeling, probably figured out who she was pressed up against, and pushed away to the far confines of the bag. “Sorry about that,” she said, her voice embarrassed. “It’s all good,” he replied. “But you’ll probably need to give me a minute or two.” “No problem,” she shimmied out of the bag, doing absolutely nothing to make his morning any less delightful. “I’ll see what I can put together for breakfast.” The light coming through the pinon bushes was sketchy, so it still had to be early, meaning they were working on only a few hours sleep. Not optimum, but they’d both been in the field before, and sometimes that was just how it worked. It took him a few minutes to be presentable, and during that time he thought of cold, hard facts. Like the fact he hadn’t woken up with a woman since his wife left him eight years ago. He’d been all about the post-divorce hookup his last two years in the service, and kept the same pattern when he turned to contract work, mostly with Ward Dynamics. When his world fell apart he’d spiraled even further, into the no-names, no questions asked arena. After a while, even that hadn’t seemed to fit the bill, so

he’d focused on himself. On getting over his gambling addiction. On paying his debts. So waking up this morning with a woman he wanted sexually and respected intellectually was a bit of a strange sensation. One he was trying not to revel in too much. Because it would end. They’d figure out a way to make sure Petra paid for offing Ward, and each go about their business. Or Natalie would leave him today, head out with the Marshals and enjoy the rest of her life. Women like her didn’t date dudes who had sacrificed their honor under the cover of orders. Didn’t go for men who’d gambled everything away. Literally. Those thoughts were more than enough to get him out of the sleeping bags. The morning was brisk but not overly cold as he went into the bushes to relieve himself. They probably could have done without the whole shared bag concept, but a big part of him was happy they had. It’d been a novel concept to hold her, one he’d tuck away for the future when he was feeling blue. When he emerged from the bushes he saw she’d set up a tiny camp stove that must have been in the Jeep since they hadn’t purchased one. She looked up as he came closer. “There was a kit in the back seat we didn’t see last night,” she explained. “The coffee is instant, but it’s still caffeine.” It was all he needed. “There’s MREs as well, but since we have barbeque left from last night…” “MREs are always a last resort, even if they’re warm,” he answered with an easy tone. He crouched opposite her, waited for the water to boil. Their silence was companiable, as if both of them realized they needed a stimulant before decisions were made. But he could rustle something up while they waited. “Want a sandwich from the leftovers?” he asked. “Probably easier to eat that way, and we need the carbs.”

She nodded, so he set to work grabbing bread from the cooler, along with basic condiments that were still in their tiny little packets. By the time he’d made them both a sandwich—his brisket, hers pulled pork—the coffee was ready. They ate quickly, fueling their bodies as the high desert came to life around them. Ethan put the Jeep back together, lifting up the back seats and stowing the cooler and all of their gear while Natalie did her morning business. And then they were ready to go. Maybe thirty minutes had ed since they’d awoken in the back of the Jeep, and not one word had been spoken of how right their cuddling had felt. Ethan wasn’t going to be the one to go there, not when he had no idea what the morning would bring. “I need to check in with Rob,” he said, breaking the silence. “See if there’s anything new on his end.” Natalie nodded, and he dialed his boss, put the phone on speaker. There was no room for secrets in the here and now. The past was a whole different story. Rob answered with his usual brusque tone. “I see you made it through the night.” Ethan felt his ears heat a bit, but answered easily. “We did. Bedded down up in the mountains around Capitan. What do you have for us?” “You were right to head into the mountains. The feds and Ward’s goons descended on Roswell like the damned aliens everyone’s looking for. Didn’t get a very warm reception, to say the very least. The town froze them out for the most part, claiming all the hotel rooms had been booked for the week. No one had any idea who you were and there were no sightings. How did the feds know you even were there?” Rod’s tone had gone puzzled. Ethan pondered for a moment, looked at Natalie, shrugged. So she answered. “My father put a locator on me. It’s probably been there for years.” She paused, cleared her throat, and for a moment Ethan thought he saw a sheen of tears. “It

was in a locket I’ve had since I was a teenager, a gift from my mother.” “That fucking sucks,” Rob replied emphatically, which told Ethan that he’d already looked into Natalie’s history, knew more about the woman than Ethan did. “I’m sorry about that, it’s a douche move.” She laughed, the sound a bit watery, but her chin had firmed up and in a moment she was back to the woman he’d spent the last twenty-four-ish hours getting to know. Sort of. Ethan took the conversation back over. “Where we’re at is pretty remote, and I’m not convinced that we can’t be spotted from the air, the scrub here is pretty low to the ground. Any recommendations, since you’ve got your ear to the ground, and obvious connections that I don’t even want to ask about, at least not today?” “While I do have my own sources,” Rob’s voice was dry, amused. “It’s actually Cris giving us our intel,” Rob replied, referring to Cris O’Connor Eagan, Ethan’s old partner. She’d gone through a hellish experience herself just a month ago and was regrouping. But Ethan doubted she’d ever go back to repo-ing, not after her real name and history as a former Texas Ranger and minor celebrity had come out. Rob continued his briefing. “She said you’d never do something like this and her father agreed, after looking at your service record. After that it was just a matter of ing the right people to find out what was going down.” Well hell, having a state senator in your corner was damned nice. Especially when he was pretty sure the man would become governor in the next election. But neither O’Connor knew what had happened in the desert three years ago. What he’d done there had put him in league with Flynn and Ward. He was one hundred percent sure that he didn’t deserve the elder O’Connor’s , but he’d take it. A weight lifted off his chest. Flynn and Ward might have power, but both operated in the shadowy realms, just as he had. Christian O’Conner would shame them both publicly, take away major sources of revenue, and never break a sweat.

Rob went on, oblivious to Ethan’s ongoing inner turmoil. “This is going to sound totally counterintuitive,” Rob warned, “but head back to Roswell. Find a place you can hide your wheels and stay out of sight until the feds find this Petra chick. She’s not on the news, like you two are, but right now that coverage is mostly regional.” “We could lay a false trail,” Natalie mused. “Make them think we’re still heading to Vegas, despite the dustup between my father and I. It’s a safehouse and I’m still a shareholder in the company. They couldn’t turn me away.” Ethan found himself nodding. “Shouldn’t be overly hard to roll into Capitan and drop a few nuggets. But it’s going to be tough getting a room. You said yourself the rooms were all booked up.” Natalie was on her phone, typing furiously as she searched for something. Her head shot up in triumph. “Got it. Found a vacation home that still has a vacancy. Close to downtown, so we can get lost in the crowd if need be, but still far enough away for privacy. It’s on the other side of town from where we left the RV, so unlikely we’ll run into anyone from there that might recognize us.” Ethan considered her words for a long moment, weighed plusses and minuses. “They’ll be looking on the roads right outside of town for anyone leaving,” he mused. “But not for anyone coming back in,” Natalie finished. “I think your boss is right. It’s counterintuitive, which is why it might just work.” Ethan nodded. “Okay. But we’ll need to do something to disguise ourselves just a bit. I have the perfect idea.”

“I did not, in a million years, picture this,” Natalie said, as she piloted the Jeep away from Capitan. She wore a green wig, complete with alien antennae and had made up her face with basic over the counter makeup. She was almost positive even her father wouldn’t recognize her in this get-up. Beside her in the enger seat, Ethan was similarly disguised. He’d slicked his hair back with Vaseline, making it look at least two shades darker and wore Geordi Laforge glasses and a silver track suit. It was all they’d had in the little Capitan general store, and the store owners had laughed when they said they wanted to surprise their friends in Vegas after spending the last few days in Roswell as they traveled the country. It was a perfect false trail if anyone showed in Capitan looking for them, and if they didn’t, well, no harm, no foul. They rolled into town as lunch approached and headed straight to the vacation home. As d, the casita was cute, tiny, and away from everything else, even though it was only a mile from the center of town. Their host met them at the front door of the main house with a good-natured smile that said she’d seen it all, gave them the keys and told them where to park the Jeep to get it out of the sun. Which happened to be beneath an old willow that hid the vehicle almost entirely. The pond behind the dwelling was stocked with fish, she informed them, but they needed to supply their own poles. Then she was gone. Ethan pulled the Jeep beneath the willow while she waited, scrutinizing their surroundings. They were three streets away from the main drag and she could hear the distant hum of traffic and the crackle of a loudspeaker from the festival. The main house was at least fifty feet away, giving them privacy and shielding them from the residential street. It was a perfect place to sit tight for a bit. When they opened the door, Natalie realized that the little house wasn’t much bigger than the RV or a standard hotel room with kitchenette. In other words, small. And very, very seventies themed, which was probably why it was one of the few places left vacant during the fest. But it was clean, and safe for the time

being. A pullout sofa sat along one wall, but it looked ancient. The queen-sized bed in the next room was by far the better option, and shame on her for thinking of how she’d woken up this morning, tangled in Ethan’s arms, his erection pressed against her belly. He walked in behind her, lugging the cooler, and his eyes did the same ping pong hers had. From the sofa sleeper to the bedroom and back. But he didn’t say a word, just popped the cooler down next to the kitchenette and shrugged out of the silver monstrosity he was wearing. “Thank Jesus, this thing is hot as fuck.” She laughed, she couldn’t help it, and ripped off the green wig, threw it on the tiny dinette table. “I’ve got to get out of this makeup,” she said, and headed for the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged and stopped in her tracks. Ethan was pulling on a shirt from his backpack, and holy mother, did the man have abs. Abs that made her think of all kinds of illicit things she had no business in thinking. So she turned, knowing her face had gone beet red, and headed for the fridge, hoping for something to cool her off. This was going to be a very long night.

Chapter 9

It turned out laying low when you could hear a street party going on sucked. Didn’t matter that it was for their own safety. The little screened in porch off the back of the casita provided respite from the afternoon heat, and while that was nice, it didn’t do much to get rid of Ethan’s case of squirelliness. He needed to be doing something, not sitting here waiting for Petra to be found. It gave him way too much time for introspection, and to shoot side glances at Natalie. As he did, he realized he’d only known her for just over one day. It seemed like weeks, and the attraction he felt wasn’t something he’d felt in a long, long time. If ever. It wasn’t something he could pawn off on the adrenalin or the fact she was quite simply beautiful. Those things he could have dealt with, easily brushed off. But it was more than that. She was more than that. Natalie was battle tested. Had made hard decisions. He’d seen one last night when she cut off her father. Chose Ethan and the right thing over family ties. No one had chosen him for a long, long time. Which was part of what was making him twitchy. Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Natalie stood, began to pace, looking fresh as a daisy despite the fact they were still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Which they needed to find a way to remedy pretty quickly. Then again, if it meant that she had to keep wearing shorts that showed off her long legs, he wasn’t going to argue. Which may make him a bit of a prick, but he ed how she’d felt wrapped around him last night, could easily imagine it without clothes, and in a soft bed instead of a sleeping bag. It was even easier to picture now, when they were in relative safety, restless and waiting for the

next thing. She turned to him. “I need to make a call to Becca. She’s my best friend, and on one of our teams.” He watched her wait for him to object. But why would he? While she wasn’t quite as deep into this as he was, it was a close thing. If she could get intel without giving them up, he was all over it. He’d call Rob later, give the man some time to deploy his impressive s. Having Natalie talk to her friend would give them a different perspective, one they needed. Plus, it would make Natalie feel better. He could see it in her eyes. “Have at it,” he said with a shrug. “The more we know, the better.” She flashed him a smile that made him break out in a cold sweat, then dialed her friend from memory, putting it on speaker. He appreciated the concession, even though he would have done the same. “This is Rebecca,” a woman’s voice answered, friendly but businesslike. “Becca, it’s Nat,” Natalie replied. “I have to keep this short. What can you tell me without compromising yourself?” “I’ll call you back in five,” Becca said briskly. “I’m right in the middle of something.” “Copy.” The line went dead. Natalie looked at Ethan. “So we wait.” She looked a bit anxious, and everything inside him wanted to soothe, to make it better. He was positive it was an emotion he’d never felt before, even with his ex. Until everything went south in the desert, he’d been a doer, the first one in line for a job, for an adventure, up for just about anything. He’d been the same way as a kid and even when he got his degree in anthropology. And then he’d fallen into himself and shut everyone away. It felt strangely liberating to want to comfort Natalie. Something he’d never

really imagined himself having the capacity for. “Tell me about your friend, or what you can.” She settled into one of the deck chairs, stared out over the water. “We’ve been friends since college. We studied together, partied together, were on the University of Maryland soccer team together. When we graduated, she actually went semi-pro, played for a team in Seattle for a few years. But she got hurt, didn’t bounce back the way she wanted. We’d always kept in touch, so when I heard about her injury, I offered her a job on one of our teams.” “Flynn lets you do hiring and firing?” He didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but he hadn’t really thought of the man as anything other than a hardass with an iron grip on the reins of his company. It was how the media portrayed Greg Flynn, and nothing in his experience had led him to believe otherwise. “Sure. It’s going to be my company someday, after all.” There was something sad in her voice he was positive she didn’t realize was there. “This was my last job before taking the next rung on the ladder. Corporate Vice President.” Well hell. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. Suddenly, ogling Natalie Flynn’s legs seemed like a stupid ass idea. Regardless of her disagreement with her father, she was a rising star, set to take over a multimillion-dollar company. And while Ethan wasn’t on the decline anymore, he’d leveled out so far below her he had to look up to see dirt. Not that he’d thought their kiss and cuddle from last night was going anywhere. But it’d been the first time he’d really let his thoughts go in that direction with someone he actually liked in a very long time. “Anyway,” she finished, “We’ve been through a lot of things together, and while I don’t think she’d ever betray the company, she was my friend first.” Ethan ed having friends like that, back when he was in the military. Men and women he’d thought of as family. And then, when he’d returned home, they’d really been the only ones to understand him, until they, too, drifted away. He shook his head. He was not going to have an internal pity party. He’d made his choices. Some good, some bad. He had to live with them. But for the first

time in a while, he thought he might be able to go back to Fort Smith and see his family without feeling like he had to hang his head in shame.

Natalie answered the phone, putting it on speaker, “Hey, Ethan Masters is here with me. You’re on speaker.” “Understood. Once we hang up, destroy this phone,” her friend breathed. “I can’t be able to point back to you if they search our cells.” “Okay.” Natalie swallowed hard, her heart thumping. “What have you got?” “The hunt just shifted from your friend Ethan to include you, Nat. The feds have footage of you in Ward’s office, tapping into his computer. They’re throwing words around like corporate espionage, and I even heard something about murder for hire.” Natalie sat back in her chair, the breath knocked out of her. “What’s Dad saying?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer. After last night’s call, it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d cut her loose entirely. Not if it would save the company’s reputation. Look what he’d been willing to do to Ethan. “That you and Masters are heading for Vegas. He even has the phone recording to prove it. Told them he’d tracked you as far as Roswell, but that you bugged out last night after telling him to go to hell.” She saw Ethan looking at her with something that approached sympathy, and rolled her shoulders, sat up straighter in response. “Are you safe? I know I’m on speaker, but are you okay?” Natalie smiled, and it felt good on her face, despite the knowledge she was being hunted for things that could end her career, shatter her reputation. “I’m fine. Ethan’s a good guy, took me out for chocolate ice cream last night, as a matter of fact.” She shot a look at Ethan, knowing he’d hear the repetition, wondered if he’d already figured out it was a safe phrase. “Okay.” Bec said, and Natalie could hear the pure relief in her voice. “I don’t know where you are, and I don’t want to know. Lay low. Everyone and their brother is heading for Vegas right now. Pretty sure Flynn has people on Masters’ repo shop in Oklahoma City, so if you head there, you might have eyes on you.”

“Thank you,” Natalie said, breathing easy for the first time in what seemed like days. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, then disconnected the phone. Pulled the battery. Sat with it in her hands for a minute. Looked up at Ethan. “So it looks like our situation has changed.” He shrugged. “Not really. But it matters that you chose me instead of safety before this, Natalie.” That warm caramel voice was back again, doing things to her she absolutely couldn’t consider. He was right that their situation really hadn’t changed, just that the heat was, theoretically off, at least for the next little bit. The relief it brought was staggering. “Any thoughts on what to do next?” He looked at her steadily, like nothing in the world could possibly faze him. He was a rock. Had been one throughout this whole ordeal. “I think we need to pick up a change of clothes, maybe a secondary disguise, just in case.” She stood, walked to the screen and looked at the pretty little lake, then cast a glance over her shoulder. “Do you think we can chance using the festivities as cover? Or should we make do with what we’ve got?” Ethan pushed out of the chair, stood next to her. “As strange as Alien Fest is to me, it’d actually be a normal activity.” Natalie turned slightly, looked at his profile as he looked out, seemingly at the lake, but she could tell he was a million miles away. “How long has it been since you did something normal, Ethan? Something you didn’t have to think really hard about?” He focused that thousand-yard stare on her. “Three years.” Even though his voice was careful, distant, she heard the tinge of loneliness in it, heard a yearning that echoed through her. Pure instinct had her rising to her toes, doing the unthinkable. She kissed him. Not the full-on tonsil hockey from the night before, but a chaste kiss. A thank

you. A comfort. He returned the pressure against her lips, but kept it sweet, restrained. And suddenly that wasn’t enough. She wanted to see him undone, like he had been last night. It was ill-advised and probably reckless as hell, but she just didn’t care. She twined her fingers through his hair, tugged just enough for him to grunt in response. He pulled away, looked at her with a question in his gaze. Then his mouth tipped up in a smile she hadn’t seen yet, and it was wicked. “So that’s how it is, huh?” he said in that voice that made her knees weak. “Then hang on, sunshine.” He dropped his head again, and this time there was nothing nice or quiet or soothing about his kiss. It was seeking, hungry, devouring and swept over her like a storm. She surged against him, her body firing in response as she made with his hard wall of muscle. Memories of waking twined with him this morning spun through her mind, brought an even headier response. She moaned, tightened her hands in his hair, and reveled when his kiss became hotter, harder. Then he was lifting her and her legs wrapped around his waist as her back hit the wall of the casita. It was pure bliss… trapped against the hard wall of the building and the living wall of his body. She should have felt threatened, trapped, but instead all she wanted was more.

Ethan tried to rein in his response, but dammit, the second those long legs had wrapped around him, the second he’d filled his hands with her ass, he’d lost every bit of self-control. His fingers trailed over her bare, toned thighs, making his thoughts spiral toward the purely carnal. He dove into her with long, drugging kisses, squeezing her ass until she purred in response. He needed to feel skin. He ran his hand beneath her shirt, marveling in the silk of her body, the pure heat emanating off her body. He wanted to drown in her, in her scent, the texture of her skin, the silk of her hair. He cupped one perfect breast, reveled when her nipple tightened beneath his palm, even beneath the lace of her bra. Her teeth scored his lip and he thrust against her almost hopelessly in response. “Ethan,” she breathed, and he lifted his head, needed to see her eyes, to see if she was drowning too. Her pupils were completely blown, her mouth slick and swollen by their greedy kisses. She was fucking gorgeous. “Tell me you’ve got a condom,” she said, and he wanted to cry in response. Because he didn’t. He blew out a breath, straightened and groaned again as she unlatched her legs from his waist, slid down his body. He stepped back but couldn’t bring himself to let her go, so settled on leaving his hands on her waist, his fingers tracing the satin of her skin with tiny, almost absentminded moves. “Fuck, Natalie,” he said, his heart still racing. He could see the pulse thrumming in her neck, was about two seconds from swooping back in for a taste. But he couldn’t. Because while this had been fucking awesome, they were running on adrenaline and fear. Which was a potent cocktail for some fantastic lovemaking, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t do that with her. Somehow, in twenty-four hours, she’d gone from being the enemy to someone he wanted to completely corrupt, while cherishing her at the same time.

And those kind of feelings were so foreign to him that he needed to take a big damn step back, even as he wanted just one more taste. Even as his body clamored for her, his dick straining the front of his cargo shorts. She looked up at him, those big gray eyes swirling with want, and he almost lost his battle. But then she cleared her throat, dropped her gaze, saw her hands bunched in his shirt and relaxed her fingers. “No condom, huh?” He could tell she was forcing levity into her voice, but he could still hear the huskiness of desire beneath her words. “No.” He stepped back, trailing his fingers over her skin as he did, feeling the goosebumps rising in response, and wished he was a different man. A man who could take what she’d offered without remorse, without worrying about tomorrow. But he was a man who’d sunk to depths most couldn’t imagine, and was still trying to crawl back to the light.

Natalie shifted her feet a bit further apart, centering herself. Ethan Masters had just about burned her world down, and she’d liked it. Loved it. Would have slept with him if either one of them had protection and not regretted a second of it. But he had shadows haunting his eyes again, shadows she wanted to soothe away, that she wanted to delve deep into to find out why he’d truly pulled away, because they’d both been around enough to know that you didn’t have to actually have sex to get your rocks off. But he was still standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his shorts now, as if he needed to stop himself from touching her. She ran a hand through her hair, setting it to rights and stepped back to the window, looking at the lake again. “This is going to be a problem for us, you know that, right?” He ed her at the screen, a careful foot away. “I’m more of a hookup kind of guy, Natalie. Or at least I was.” He sent a smoldering look her way that almost set her afire all over again. “I like you. Respect you. Too much to do the casual fuck and run.” Well, at least he was honest. And while there was absolutely nothing wrong with that kind of nomadic lifestyle, he didn’t strike her as that sort. And in that moment, she knew. He’d been burned, badly. And likely not just by love. He gave too freely for it to be a love thing. What the ever-loving hell had Ward and her father done to him? But now was not the time to ask. Not when there was still electricity arcing in the air between them. When they both wore summer clothes that would be alltoo-easy to ditch. When he so obviously was trying to do the right thing. So she answered him honestly. “I never would have seen you as that, you know. And I like you too. Maybe a bit too much, given our circumstances and the fact we’ve only known each other for less than two days. And I like your body, a lot,” she said with a smile. “But I’m adult enough to know when to back off.” She paused, turned enough that he had to mimic her or appear rude. “So let’s get back in our crazy costumes and go buy some regular clothes as well as another

set of disguises, since I’m pretty sure the footage from the big box store in Midland is already circulating. Get some fresh air. Do some surveillance to see if the feds really are gone.” He held her gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read her intent, to see if her words were true, then nodded his head slowly. And when he spoke, it did nothing to tamp down her libido. “And maybe hit a drugstore while we’re out.” Need curled inside her, rebounding as quickly as if it had never left. Tonight was going to be interesting, indeed.

Chapter 10

Ethan wasn’t sure if he’d dodged a bullet or done the stupidest thing in his life by stepping away from Natalie. Regardless, it was done, and now he and Natalie were back in the get-ups they’d bought in Capitan, strolling the main drag with a bunch of other folks in equally crazy costumes. They could have hit one of the big box stores, but they’d stand out really badly there, even with the rest of the Fest attendees, so they stuck to the downtown area and hit up a novelty shop for another set of disguises. Natalie went full-on Scully with a strawberry blonde wig and a t-shirt that looked like a business suit and a pair of wire rimmed glasses. While she was using the dressing room to put them on, he settled on a pair of Buddy Holly glasses, an X-Files t-shirt and a ballcap that touted the Lone Gunmen. He’d complete his makeover when they hit the drugstore. Two doors down from the novelty shop was an actual clothing store where they used the remainder of the money on one of the gift cards they’d purchased in Midland to buy jeans, shorts, sturdy hiking boots and non-novelty shirts. In a day or two the cards would likely be traceable, but anyone looking for the purchase of them would have to get a warrant, and that took time. They grabbed a corn dog and soda at one of the street vendors and sat on an outof-the-way bench to people watch. Natalie had expertly steered them away from the few cameras in town, which were mostly on banks and municipal buildings. Ethan would have spotted them eventually, but she was a pro, used to doing it for her charges. So after they ate, while they watched the crowds thin and swell, he asked her about her work. “When we were in Europe and North Africa, it was mostly politicians or statesmen. A few business types and celebrities doing the charity route.” She

paused, and he could see her going far away, much as he sometimes did. He waited a moment, then prompted her. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said, “but you look like you could use an unbiased listener.” She shot him a side eye. “Please. When it comes to Arrow, you’re one of the most biased people I’ve met.” She finished her statement with a smile. He returned it. “True, but while your company isn’t on my Christmas card list, I respect you. I’d like to know you better.” It was really that simple. Since she knew his overarching goal wasn’t to get her into bed, not after this morning, maybe she’d believe him. Apparently she did. “We were on a job, got intel that sounded wrong to me, but Cord was the lead and decided to go with what we’d been given. He died because of it.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, when he could tell she was reliving it. Experiencing the pain all over again. “We’d been together for about a year at that point. Hadn’t made any real promises to each other, but the feelings were there.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. Instead of pulling her in for a hug that he was positive would not be welcome, he braced his elbows on his knees and stared at the ing crowd, keeping an eye out for feds and Ward’s bruisers alike. Then he gave her something of himself. “Three years ago I was working for Ward Dynamics as a contract pilot in Afghanistan. We did all kinds of semi-sketchy stuff, but it was never illegal, just riding the line. The money was great, so I didn’t get too riled up about it. We were doing an extraction from a rooftop, but we were only there to get the man. He was a high-level informant, so pretty important. He brought his wife and daughter up to that rooftop. Begged us to take them with us. I tried to talk the crew into it, but I was just the pilot. They were there with a mission. We didn’t take the women with us. The crew was a mix of Arrow and Ward Dynamics operators. And when we got back and I started to raise a ruckus, they all lied. Said the women had never been there, that I’d lost it and was telling lies to get them in trouble. The informant kept his mouth shut because he was more scared of his countrymen than us. If I hadn’t quit, they would’ve fired me, and I was

warned, very explicitly, about keeping my trap shut in the future. I did.” He waited for comforting words, for her to tell him it hadn’t been his fault. That he couldn’t have done anything else. Instead, she ed him in his pose and the silence between them became thoughtful, almost as if they were each pondering the others’ words. He sure as hell was. He’d almost expected the story, after the hints she’d let drop, but her pain, her doubt in herself, caught him off guard. After a few moments he stood, reached out for her to help her up. She slid her hand into his, squeezed hard for a moment, then let go to pick up her trash. He did the same, and they walked away from the bench in companionable silence.

Jesus. Ethan’s words rolled through her mind in a loop as they strolled down the street. She could just picture him, see that carefree face she’d watched yesterday on the television. Now knew what had changed that cocky pilot into the taciturn man striding beside her. She thought back to his expression yesterday morning, when he’d come back for her and Petra. The grudging acceptance. What she now understood was penance, of a sort. It also explained a hell of a lot about why he’d stuck by her and Petra early on. Why he was still sticking with her now. Because Ethan Masters didn’t leave anyone behind. Not anymore. He’d given that to her because she’d revealed a painful piece of herself. Trusted her with what she was pretty sure he’d never told anyone else. Around them the crowd was starting to swell as people got off work and ed the tourists. It was a lively bunch, besides the costumes, of course, and she felt her mood lifting as a live band started up a street down. But even with the gaiety around them, they kept their eyes peeled. She’d already lost one male partner in her life, and damned if Ethan would be the second. She hated thinking of Cord, that his beautiful life had been cut so tragically short. Even if they hadn’t gone the distance, he’d been a good person, and held a piece of her heart. Always would. But walking like this now, with Ethan, even though they were laying low, made the sad piece of her heart lift a bit. And his kisses earlier hadn’t hurt matters. At all. The man packed a serious punch in the kissing department, and honestly, if they’d had protection, she would have been more than fine taking it further. And who knows, maybe they would, tonight, tomorrow, next week. But in the here and now, she was as happy as she’d been in a very long time, and wasn’t that just a kick in the ass? They strolled into the drugstore, flowing with the crowd, heading directly for the women’s hair section. Ethan hadn’t told her all of his plan, but she got the gist of

it… he was going to color his hair. Which sucked, but had to be done if they wanted to do more than cower at the casita. Even though they hadn’t discussed their plan past this afternoon, she had the feeling something was rumbling around Ethan’s brain, and she couldn’t wait to hear it. They grabbed brown hair dye and a set of scissors. Which meant he wanted to cut his hair. Which was totally not a skill she possessed, but she’d give it her very best shot. She was walking ahead of him, but didn’t miss it when he reached out and grabbed a package of condoms, buried it beneath the hair coloring box. She stifled a smile and peeled off to grab a bottle of wine to give him a chance to pay for their initial purchases without her hovering. Because she wanted to see how he explained the magically appearing rubbers later on.

They returned to the casita right as the sun was going down. They got out of their costumes and into shorts and t-shirts they’d bought earlier. Natalie hit the kitchen and started whipping up dinner. He’d offered to help, but she demurred, saying she enjoyed cooking. She’d actually sounded enthused about it, and he wasn’t going to argue, considering his cooking skills were limited to soup, sandwiches and about five varieties of eggs. He heard her pour a glass of wine and start humming as she put supper together. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Her flexibility in everything that had happened was astounding. And as a team, they were better than good, especially after only a day and a half together. He didn’t want to screw that dynamic up by sleeping with her, but the thought of sinking inside her made him want to throw all of that to the wind. Made him want things he had absolutely no business wanting. So he pulled out the hair dye, read the instructions. Figured it’d be easier to do after they trimmed his hair, so settled into his chair on the porch and watched the sunset. A strange sort of peace settled over him. He could have something like this. Not with Natalie, of course, she’d move on after this was said and done, and while it brought a pang, he was a realist. But he could have the quiet, the inner peace. Once he paid Rob, he could see himself settling into a little house just like this, puttering in a garden. His disability check from the military would cover modest living expenses and he could find a job. Not repossessing fast, shiny things. But maybe working with his hands. He’d never be able to get a job as a teacher in the next few years, not with his history of alcoholism and gambling, so his degree in anthropology meant squat. But he’d loved landscaping when he was working his way through college, since ROTC only paid so much. Natalie called him out of his daydream and into dinner.

They sat at the dated little Formica table as the sun cast the last rays of light through the porch screen. He turned down a glass of wine and instead grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. She’d taken their leftovers and put them together into almost a stir fry of sorts that incorporated fresh veggies he didn’t seeing in the cooler and the remains of their pulled pork and brisket with a tasty sauce. “How’d you do this?” he demanded after he swallowed, because his momma had taught him to never, ever talk with his mouth full. “It’s fantastic.” She smiled, maybe even blushed a bit, although he couldn’t tell for sure in the iffy light. “My mom and I loved to cook together. I always envisioned myself being a chef when I grew up. But then she died, and Dad needed me to step up when it was time to go to college.” “That’s tough,” he said in sympathy. “But you definitely got the good cooking genes. And the good looking ones.” He waggled his eyebrows, trying to lighten her mood, her load, just a bit. She laughed, threw a snow pea at him. “Corny, Masters, very, very corny.” She paused for a moment, took a sip of her wine. “Tell me about you. I mean, I know you were military. I’m thinking Air Force just because you’ve got that flyboy vibe. And that you worked for Ward once upon a time.” He winced. “Let’s not go there, okay?” She nodded and took a bite of dinner, waiting. “Before that, I’m an open book, sunshine. Grew up in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Dad was in the Army and basically forced me into the Air Force when I said I wanted to serve, said it was in my best interests. Got a degree in cultural anthropology focusing on archaeology from the University of Arkansas.” At her disbelieving sound he smiled. “Hey, I’ll have you know that knowing obscure things about ancient civilizations can be a very valuable tool in the Air Force. I always won at Stump the Chump. Didn’t buy my own beers for a very long time until they finally stopped trying. Even thought about Jeopardy at one point, but I’m not quite up to Cliff Clavin standards.”

She laughed out loud now, and the sound went straight to his heart. This was a woman who deserved to laugh every day of her life.

“I loved Cheers reruns when I was a kid,” Natalie said. “But Carla was always my favorite.” Ethan nodded in agreement, shoveled another bite into his mouth, chewed with true appreciation. Seeing him enjoy the food she’d prepared sent a bolt of longing through her. She missed doing stuff like this with her mom. Missed creating something delicious from basic ingredients. Wished things had turned out differently. Ethan was studying her again with that unnerving gaze he sometimes had. “What would you be doing if not working for the company?” he asked, and his voice held a yearning she felt deep in her soul. “I wanted to go to culinary school. Open a little farm-to-fork restaurant. Maybe in Denver or Colorado Springs or Santa Fe. I love those communities, would live there in a heartbeat.” She cleared her throat. “But that’s never going to happen.” She shrugged. “What about you? What are you going to do when this is all over?” He looked at her for a long moment. “I was thinking that when I was out on the porch. That I could easily find a little cottage like this, and a job where I could work with my hands. I’m tired of chasing after shiny things. And if I fly again after this job, it’ll be for fun, not because I have to.” They both sat in silence for a long moment, then he finished his meal and took his plate to the sink, began washing the dishes. The spell broken, Natalie sat back and enjoyed watching him work as she took her last bites, then ed him, handing over her plate. “So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?” As soon as the words left her mouth she wished them back. What the hell was she thinking? His look was positively molten, but his words were easy, unhurried. “I’d like you

to trim my hair. Nothing drastic that would make me look like when I was active duty. Then we’re going to dye it. I think with those two small changes, I won’t even get a second look unless they’re using facial recognition software, which I don’t think they’ll go to right off the bat.” She nodded in agreement, thankful that he’d taken the high road. Sort of. “Sounds good. Let’s get started.” They moved the dinette table out of the way, set him up in the middle of the room, straddling the dinette chair so he could rest his arms across the top. He claimed it was more comfortable, and who was she to question it? She nervously held the scissors. “I know I already said this, but are you sure?” She’d asked him the question at least twice as they were moving the table. He looked at her patiently. “Do your worst, Natalie. You’ll be fine.” She chewed on her bottom lip, stopped when his gaze honed in on the action, and his expression tightened. Then went all casual again, like he was putting on another persona. As much as she was glad he’d done it, for her peace of mind, if nothing else, it bothered her that he felt he had to around her. Then again, they’d only known each other for about thirty-six hours now, even if it felt like they’d been dancing around each other for a lifetime. It’d be easier if she trimmed the back first, she decided. She swung around behind him, draped a towel over his shoulders to catch the shorn strands. Positioned his head just right, and then started snipping. She didn’t go too short, instead taking an inch or so off, halfway between his hairline and his collar. His hair was almost curly as it fell, soft as silk. She wanted to run her fingers through it rather than cutting it off. By the time she made it around to face him, her heart was beating in triple time, and her face felt flushed. At least with the lighting from the funky seventies fixtures illuminating the kitchen Ethan wouldn’t be able to tell. She trimmed the sides and front and had to it she hadn’t bungled it too badly. But the fact she was still standing in front of him, his face pretty much

right at boob level, did nothing to calm down her revving heart. And when she proclaimed herself done and he looked up at her, his gaze tight and hot, it took everything inside her not to lean down and kiss him again.

Ethan wasn’t quite sure how he had the willpower to sit there, unflinching, as she ran her hands through his hair, as her body brushed his ever-so-lightly, as her scent drifted over him like a summer’s breeze. But sit he did. His knuckles were white where he gripped the top of the dining room chair, but he maintained. Until she announced she was done and he glanced up and saw her face. She looked just like she had this morning when he’d kissed her, soft and sensuous and everything a man could ever want. He tightened his grip on the chair, willing himself to stay still, to not push this if she didn’t want it. And then her fingers were in his hair again, this time stroking, touching in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with a haircut and everything to do with them, with what he wanted more than he wanted to see the sun rise tomorrow. He waited, because he’d become a patient man over the last few years, waited as her fingers scored his scalp lightly, sending arcs of sensation through his entire body. But he couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips, or the hungry sound that escaped him when her nipples peaked in response. He watched her eyes, waited when she licked her lips, then held still as her mouth descended, slowly, so slowly, before landing on his, giving him a featherlight kiss that he still felt down to his very bones. When she straightened he spoke, and almost didn’t recognize his own voice. “Your lead, Natalie. But know this… Once I touch you I’m not going to stop until the sun comes up. So be sure you want this.” Her lips tilted in a small, secret smile that curled through him, set a low, greedy fire kindling in his gut. She traced his cheek with one hand, her thumb feathering over his cheekbone. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she replied. He exploded out of the chair and spun around it, then lifted her at the waist in a fireman’s carry, jolting a startled giggle out of her that set him aflame even more. Settling her on the queen-sized bed, he kicked the bedroom door shut and focused on her, only her.

She drew in a breath, drawing his attention to her breasts, and she smiled that secret smile again before she whipped the t-shirt over her head and unclipped her bra, seemingly in one motion that left him breathless. He stared at the perfection of her, sitting on the fluffy comforter, bare to the waist, shorts covering so very little of her. He stepped forward, stood in the vee of her thighs, and dropped to his knees. Gently grasped her waist and then settled in to feast on her breasts. She moaned, pressing against his mouth as she writhed. He shifted his attention, moving south and stripping away her shorts and panties as he did. He stroked her bare feet, watching as she settled onto her elbows and just gave herself over to sensation. Knew he was the luckiest man on the damned planet. “Get out of your clothes, Ethan.” It was an order, and one he happily obeyed.

He was fucking magnificent. Just looking at him made her mouth water, as he stripped down with that bare efficiency men seemed to employ. He had the body of an athlete, long and strong, and she couldn’t wait to feel him inside, but first, she’d play. She surged up, catching him by surprise, like he had in the kitchen. She licked her lips, then grasped his cock, loving the rough sound he made as she took him in her mouth, just enough to tease, enough to make her even hotter. Long licks, little nibbles until he was shaking in front of her, but still he didn’t move. He was breathing hard, and his hands were clenched at his sides, and she suspected he wanted them in her hair, but not this time. This time she wanted, needed to show him what it was like to be cherished. And then she was too far gone herself. She released him and stood, bringing her body against his, skin to skin for the first time. They both drew in a breath, then Ethan stepped away and stripped the bedspread back. Then waited again. She made a hungry sound in the back of her throat and laid on the bed, grabbed his hand and pulled him down, then whispered, “I’m all yours.” She’d expected a frenzy, but if anything he slowed down, touching and stroking until she was on the verge of exploding. “Ethan,” she pleaded, “Now.” He tortured her for a few moments more, then grabbed a condom from his shorts and rolled it on, before sliding into her with such perfection it brought tears to her eyes. “Natalie?” his voice was questioning, rough. “So good,” she sighed, and he dipped his forehead to hers, staring into her eyes as he began to thrust. She met him with each surge, her body curving against his, their hearts thundering together until she tipped over the edge, and he followed with a shout.

Chapter 11

Ethan woke with Natalie sprawled half over him, her long legs tangled with his, one arm thrown over his chest, her face tucked into his neck, and realized he’d never been happier. The wave of warmth washed over him, thawing pieces he hadn’t known were frozen. Except, of course, for his morning wood. That was alive and kicking. He breathed in her scent, wallowed in the feel of her skin against his, and had that moment, that bright and shining moment, where he thought he’d done enough penance to wake up like this every day. With Natalie. That they could get out of this whole and slide into something good, right. Maybe that little house he’d talked about last night. Then reality squashed that dream. Because he was still twenty-five grand in the hole, and with the Dauphin gone, he was back to chipping away at his debt one repossession at a time. And Natalie? While she and Flynn were on the outs now, she was still his only child. Still in line to be the Corporate Vice President of a multi-national company. If she chose to. If they hadn’t been in danger, she would have never slept with him. Would have never even noticed him. As if he knew she was thinking about him, she gave a morning hum and slid her hand down his chest, sparking everything awake and throwing all of his thoughts out the window. “Good morning,” she said and began to kiss the tender part of his neck. Her hand found his dick, and he groaned, thrust against her. Then he regained control, rolled them so she was on her back, her eyes still hazy with sleep, her mouth soft and swollen from last night’s sexathon. He fell for her in that moment, in that second. There was no basis in reality for him to hand his heart to her right then and there, but it quite simply, was. It was the most amazing feeling he’d ever had, and equally terrifying.

But he’d never let her know, never say the words, because he wouldn’t bind her to him that way. Not when his future was anything but certain. So instead he slid his lips down her body and showed her how he felt with each lick, each nip, each slide of his tongue. And fell even harder.

Natalie stretched, rolled over, disappointed to find Ethan’s side of the bed empty. The lacy curtains diffused the midmorning sun just enough to make the room feel cozy, warm, a place she wanted to just fall into forever. She laid there for just a moment more, aching for the dream, for mornings where she woke up next to Ethan, sore from a long night of lovemaking. Where she cooked and baked and puttered in a garden and went to her cute little storefront to sell things she’d created with her own hands. Where someone loved her for who she truly was, not who she’d been molded into. But that would never happen. Her life was with Arrow. It had to be. Regardless of her father’s assholery, she’d put too much of herself into Arrow to walk away now. She had friends there, a history that was basically her whole life. Walking away from something like that would be almost impossible. Ethan hated Arrow, and now she understood why. While this was an amazing interlude, as soon as Petra was found, he’d go back to his life, and she’d move to Maryland, see if she could resume the normal life she’d longed for just a few days ago, but now seemed such a boring and tepid dream. See if she and her father could see eye to eye, or if she’d try to change the company from the inside into something better. A company that didn’t create the kind of toxicity that had so damaged Ethan. She rolled out of bed, slid into her shorts and tee shirt and opened the door to the living room. Ethan sat on the screened porch, coffee in one hand, his face creased in thought. She wanted to sit on his lap, sip from his coffee, smooth away the lines marring his handsome face. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. So instead she got her own cup and ed him on the porch. “Good morning…again,” she said as she gave him a dirty little smile. He laughed in response, like she’d wanted, and the shadows on his face, in her heart, fell away. It would be all right.

They settled in at the dining room table, eating the last of the eggs from the cooler. Natalie had done something to them, Ethan wasn’t sure what, but they were freaking delicious. He washed the dishes as Natalie flipped on the television, scanned the news for any mention of them. There’d been a fire overnight on the other side of town that seemed to be pretty dramatic. But mostly it was about Alien Fest, with crowd shots of everyone in their costumes, dancing to last night’s live band. “Nothing,” she said. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.” “Let’s go with relief, but posture for worry,” Ethan replied. He didn’t want this little bubble in time to end, but he knew their time here was short. They’d stayed in one place too long already. Where they went next was the question of the day. He repacked the cooler and hauled it out to the Jeep, then settled in next to her, his hip warm against hers. “We have this place for one more night, but I’m getting itchy feet.” “I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “My spidey sense is tingling. So where do we go from here?” She bit her bottom lip and it took everything in him to stop himself from doing the biting himself. “What about Albuquerque? It’s right on the interstate so we can bolt quickly if need be, and has an airport, albeit a small one. Your father might be able to send a charter to pick you up.” “Pick us up,” she said sternly, but he shook his head. “If Flynn comes for you, go with him, Natalie. I didn’t kill Ward, and at some point Petra will surface, or they’ll find proof that she did it. One person can hide much better than two. So you go with your father, work on helping me from the inside.” He smiled, but knew it looked forced. “I’m better off on my own.” She sat back as if he’d slapped her, and he guessed he had, at least verbally, especially after their night together. But if anything, last night had cemented his resolve in keeping her safe. And there was no place safer than with Greg Flynn

and Arrow Security. No matter what an asshole the man might be. He was trying to form words of comfort when she bolted to her feet and went to the window, pulling back the curtain just a bit from the side. “We have to go, now.” He scooped up his backpack, pulled out his weapon and edged toward the back door as Natalie did the same. Her expression was fierce. Fearless. Sexy as fuck. Ethan pushed the screen door open an inch, then two, seeing nothing in the shadows of the willow but the Jeep. He nodded once, then slipped out the door, sweeping the tiny back yard from corner to corner as Natalie backed him up. Behind him he heard someone pounding on the front door and his heartbeat ratcheted up a few more notches. Natalie met his eyes, and her expression was solid. Steadfast. Ready to take them, whoever they were, on. They ran to the Jeep on silent feet, Natalie angling for the driver’s door. He nodded and vectored to the other side, then slid into the seat, breathing hard, not from exhaustion but from pure adrenaline. He handed her the keys, and then settled in to watch, to have her back.

Natalie waited when every instinct in her body told her to flee. She’d never know what had tipped her off, but her gut had never been wrong before. The fact Ethan had heeded it, moving without hesitation, and then not arguing about her taking the wheel was a testament to how much he respected her skills. A fact she was ridiculously grateful for at this moment. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I just got really nervous, really fast.” He nodded, his eyes never leaving the back of the casita twenty-five feet away. Then her instinct was realized. Two men rounded the far corner of the house, heading for the screen door. They were big, wearing cheap suits that didn’t do much to disguise the fact they were armed. Which could mean feds or Ward’s men. But surely Ward’s men would be more put together than this? Or maybe not, considering their now-dead boss. Their hostess trailed behind the men with a cell phone to her ear, talking to someone very loudly, and very, very purposefully not looking at the willow. Or the Jeep. Maybe the woman had a bad feeling as well. Regardless, it was the opening she needed. As the two men entered the porch, as their hostess followed them, she started the ignition, put the vehicle into gear and punched it. The Jeep shot forward through the willow branches and rocketed toward the driveway. They hit the street and the two men rounded the corner, hands automatically going to their waists before stopping as the vehicle pulled out of range. In the rear-view mirror, the hostess gave a little wave, then donned an expression of outrage as the men turned back to her.

Natalie hoped the woman hadn’t put herself in any kind of danger. Then she employed every single evasive driving maneuver she’d learned over the last ten years and got them the hell out of Dodge.

They colored Ethan’s hair sitting on a concrete wall in the back parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. He held still as she applied the hair color, though Natalie could see the sensual memories of last night and this morning swirling through his gaze, even after their close escape. Hell, it was all she could do to actually dye his hair, rather than run her hands through it again and get them started back up. He’d done something just an hour ago that no man ever had. He’d believed in her. Taken her instinct and run with it…literally. Trusted her to know that she’d be the better driver given her training and not argue about it. It was a novel experience, something that still warmed her from within. Made her want things she shouldn’t. But she couldn’t go there because she was a professional, and they needed to get far enough away from Roswell to take a breath, then figure out what was likely going to be their last action together. Ethan’s words, his expression, had been pretty clear this morning when he talked about her going back to Arrow. And while the words hurt, he wasn’t wrong. One person was more nimble, more agile. But one person didn’t have a wingman, and the concept of them separating was making her spidey sense scream. Maybe it was her sixth sense, or maybe she just didn’t want to be separated from him. Not after last night. Not after this morning. So she kept her wounded feelings to herself and went about business. Because Ethan Masters didn’t need to know that he’d made her whole this morning. Not when the entire world seemed to be gunning for them. She’d tell him later. Maybe. She’d felt like Superwoman when he’d trusted her. Now she just felt vulnerable. So she did what she needed to do. Instead of hitting up a service station bathroom, they used some of the bottled water they’d left in the Jeep to rinse out his hair, keeping everything between

them, with no possibility of being seen. Or at least no possibility that would report them to the authorities, or to whomever was hunting them. Ethan was towel drying his hair when she asked, “Who do you think they were?” He met her gaze and with the newly dark hair, his hazel eyes seemed to shade towards a blue-green that was arresting. Which probably wasn’t a good thing when it came to making him forgettable, but she was pretty happy with it, to be honest. “Probably Ward’s guys, even though they moved more like muscle than trained operatives. He was connected enough to have good eyes on Vegas and would have found out by now if we were there. Those guys seemed more second string. I can see them sending a few lackeys back to make sure we didn’t do exactly what we did. We simply got lucky our hostess doesn’t like assholes.” So he’d seen the woman’s wave as well. The afternoon was headed toward evening now, which is what they got for spending most of the morning in bed. Just the thought of it warmed her cheeks, her body. “So tonight we camp again?” He nodded ruefully. “At least we got one night in a real bed.” He made a production of lifting one eyebrow, trying to look salacious and made her laugh in response. Just as he’d intended. Just as he seemed to do whenever she needed it. She shook a finger at him. “I’m game for many things, Ethan Masters, but I’m too old to shag on the ground or in the back of a Jeep.” He grinned in return. “Well, it’s totally your loss, but I guess we’ll just have to cuddle.” She snorted, and, with the mood lightened, spread the map they’d bought what seemed like forever ago across the hood of the Jeep. “So where to?” He stood behind her, caging her in as he braced his hands on the hood. She leaned back into the warmth, the solidity of his body as they scanned the terrain.

“Are we agreed on Albuquerque?” he asked, his voice a rumble against her ear that sent chills through her body. “Yeah,” she said. “Even if they figure it out, they’ll think we went straight there, rather than pit stopping somewhere else.” He leaned in more, pressing her against the grill, pressing against her with his hips and unmistakable erection. She had a flash of them christening the hood of the Jeep and turned her head so her mouth grazed his ear. “Behave.” He chuckled until she caught the lobe of his ear in her teeth, making him groan. “No fair, woman.” She pressed a palm to his chest and he stepped back a pace, still keeping her within the loop of his arms. “What do you think of Corona?” he asked, all business now, as he pointed to it on the map. “Looks like there’s forested areas here as well, just like in Capitan. And it’s close enough to a town that we can get cell service if we need it.” She nodded. “Let’s do it. And then tomorrow morning, we both call in. After that we can ditch the burner, just in case.” After folding the map, she turned in his arms. “Kiss for good luck?” He obliged and more than made her afternoon.

Just like two nights ago, it was dark by the time they found their foresty haven. The road was more well-traveled than he’d thought it would be, and then he saw the signs for UFO crash sites and realized that these were Fest attendees from Roswell heading for the forties crash sites, hoping for a glimpse in the here and now. He and Natalie couldn’t have planned for better cover. They repeated their actions from two nights ago, setting up the sleeping bags, putting together a light meal, but this time as a team, and it was flawless. So simple and smooth that, just like this morning, he wished it could go on forever. But it couldn’t. Their relationship, so to speak, had an expiration date, and it was fast approaching. He could feel it in his bones. So when they slipped into the doubled-up sleeping bag together and he spooned her from behind, he savored every second of feeling her long, lithe body against his, and prayed for the night to last a little longer. Morning came too quickly, and with it the aches and pains of sleeping in the back of the Jeep. It didn’t matter how much padding you put on it, metal was still metal. While Natalie took care of her morning business, he surveyed the last remnants of food in the cooler. It had seemed like so much at the time, enough to get them through days and days on the road. The almost-empty Coleman was like a sign. That he’d been right, and he needed to go the rest of this alone. But it chafed at him. He liked partnering with her. They were good together in more ways than one, and in her mind, that was still more valuable than going solo. But her father could take better care of her than he ever could, so finding a way to reconnect with the man now that someone had found them seemed like the right thing to do. It all depended on what her father and Rob had to say this morning. Natalie emerged from the trees, and the sight of her made something inside him settle in contentment. She moved with that innate grace she’d had since the

moment he saw her on the helideck, but know he knew the strength of her body, the core of integrity that ran so deep within. Birds were starting to chirp in the trees, signaling the beginning of a new day. “You ready for this?” Ethan asked and as he said the words he was tempted to say to hell with it, that they should just hit the road for a few more days. But at the very least they needed to make . “Sure. Your boss first?” “Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ll put it on speaker. But after we talk to both of them, I want to strategize for us. They’re just giving us advice, okay?” She nodded, a short, sharp dip of her head, and knew they were on the same page. He dialed Rob. “It’s Masters. You’re on speaker with Natalie and me. We’re in a safe location. What do you have for me?” The voice that answered wasn’t Rob’s perpetual growl. Instead it was his former partner Cristine O’Connor. “Dude, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?” “Cris,” he said, a smile on his face. She’d recently gone through a hellish situation of her own, come out of it on top, with her past exorcized and a new man in her life. She was happier than he’d ever seen her. He looked at Natalie. “Cris is my former partner and served with the Texas Rangers.” He paused. “Cris, Natalie Flynn is here with me. I’m going to assume that Rob’s read you in on everything.” “He has,” Cris answered, “and is in the room right now with me and so is Linc.” “Understood, give us a minute and I’ll call you back.” He disconnected the call, turned his attention to Natalie. “Cris is my former partner. Linc is the head of the Oklahoma City office of the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation, and Cris’ mentor. I’m not totally thrilled to have him in on this, but I trust Cris’ judgement. If she thinks he can help us, it’s legit.” Natalie pondered his words, then nodded. “He may have avenues we don’t. Different s than Arrow.”

“About that,” he added, “Cris’ father is Christian O’Connor,” he clarified. Cris’ father was a Texas state senator and had more pull than anyone Ethan had ever met. Including Greg Flynn. “Well shit,” Natalie replied. “He’s probably working with my father on this, then. Dad has people in the legislatures in every state in the union. It’s how we operate.” She shook her head. “I’m not so sure about this.” “Cris is solid,” he reiterated, “but I understand your concern. Just like before, we won’t tell them where we are, and we’ll keep calls as short as possible. That’s why I hung up rather than muting, okay?” She blew out a breath. Nodded. “It’s worth a shot.” “Okay. Now let’s see what Cris and crew have to say.” He redialed, put the phone on speaker again. “We’re back. What do you have?” “You two are very, very popular right now. There was some chatter that you kidnapped Ms. Flynn, but that got beaten back pretty quickly, by the Marshals, no less. Not sure what they saw or heard, but now you’re just the subject of a nationwide manhunt. Congrats.” Jesus. Ethan met Natalie’s gaze, and as he did, knew what had turned the Marshals against the kidnapping concept. Their kiss. They’d interviewed everyone in the campground and been told about their kiss on the picnic bench. The RV had been clean, no signs of a struggle, no restraints, none of the things that might point to him taking Natalie hostage. From the slight quirk to her lips, she’d come to the same conclusion. “So nothing has changed,” he quipped. “We had visitors at our crash pad yesterday. Probably Ward’s goons making a sweep, but we got out anyway.” He paused, looked at Natalie. “We’re calling Greg Flynn after this, to see what intel he has before we make a decision.” “About that,” Rob said, speaking up for the first time. “You’re going to love this, and it’s definitely info you need. The Dauphin landed in Santa Rosa, New Mexico in the wee hours last night. I put out feelers in the region when this all started, asked my s to spread the word. We got a hit about fifteen minutes

ago. Seems this airport manager doesn’t want a helicopter that expensive sitting on his tarmac without an owner. He wants it gone as soon as possible.” “That’s bullshit and probably a trap,” Ethan said. “All he had to do was run the tail number and he’d know it was Ward’s bird. With Ward being murdered, he should have called the cops right away, not you or one of your s.” “True,” Rob replied, “but apparently there’s an airstrip not too far away that’s been known to have infrequent, non-logged flights coming in. The less the manager involves the feds, the happier all of his customers are going to be.” “It still doesn’t track. It’s been four days since Petra lifted the chopper. Where the hell has she been?” “No idea, Masters.” Rob replied, his voice a bit terse. “All I know is that your target is sitting on the tarmac, just waiting for someone to pick it up.” Ethan could almost hear him shrug over the phone. “Your choice.” He looked at Natalie, who was watching him steadily. “I’ll let you know what we decide,” he replied. “And thank you for everything, all of you.” Unfamiliar emotion clogged his throat. As much as he’d tried to hold himself apart from the Red River crew, when the chips were down, they’d come through. “Take care, Ethan, and let me know if you need anything,” Cris said, and then Ethan terminated the call. He handed the phone over to Natalie. “Now let’s find out what Greg has to say.”

Chapter 12

Natalie held the phone for a moment. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to hear from her father. In a perfect world, it would be to hear that suspicion had been lifted from both of them, that the manhunt had been called off, that Petra had been found and it was all over. But she knew it wasn’t going to happen. She so very rarely actually got what she wanted. She dialed, put the phone on speaker. Knew the Arrow servers would begin tracing the call as soon as it went through, just like they had with the others. This time she’d stay on long enough for them to work. “Flynn,” her father answered shortly, as well he should, since he didn’t know the number. “It’s me,” she said. “We’re safe but had to move from our last location. I need an update.” “Where are you?” he demanded. “Safe, with Ethan,” she repeated. “What’s the situation?” She shouldn’t have to ask for a sitrep a second time, so something was going on. “You’re anything but safe with him,” Greg growled. “He’s a degenerate gambler and alcoholic who rolled through almost a quarter of a mil in casinos and still owes his boss twenty-five grand. Who’s to say he’s not going to hold you hostage when it suits him?” She watched Ethan’s face pale at the words, knew they were true, ed he hadn’t touched a drink the entire time they’d been together, even though she’d had wine. ed his oh-so brief hesitation on going to Las Vegas. And she knew, without him saying a word, what had driven him to that point.

That day in the desert where he’d followed orders and betrayed his own principles in doing so. The mission Ward and her father had hired him to perform. Her stomach bottomed out. Not because she feared him. But because she could see every bit of those fateful moments playing out on his face. Saw the moment when he shut down. When he shut her out. And it made her so very cold inside. “Natalie, are you there?” Greg’s tone was stern, but he also sounded…worried. “I’m here. Before you say another word, I trust Ethan intrinsically. He could have betrayed me at almost any time in the last ninety-six hours and didn’t. At this point, I trust him more than I trust you, after the tracking incident.” “It was for your safety,” he replied stiffly. “Bullshit, it was for your convenience. Just like everything has been on this op. You sent me in to extract an assassin, so don’t even talk about my safety. Was there even a government contract for Ward’s info, or did I really commit corporate espionage? Silence met her words. So she filled it. With cold competency. Just like he’d taught her. “None of that matters right now. What I need is a sitrep.” Natalie reached out her free hand, twined her fingers through Ethan’s, gave them a squeeze. He looked down at their hands, then back up at her, his face still expressionless, although his eyes were haunted. Then he squeezed back and part of her unclenched. “Fine,” Greg said, all hints of fatherly love gone, if they’d ever truly been there. “You’re both still on most news stations, but it’s a rinse and repeat cycle. The Marshals have pulled back, but aren’t talking, which makes me think they’re still looking for you, but maybe not as suspects.” “Material witnesses,” Ethan said, his voice positively frosty. “If Ward had

cameras in his office, you can damn well bet the perv had them in his bedroom as well. It’s been long enough, they probably have Petra on camera killing him. Natalie and I are accessories, but since we didn’t pull the trigger, they’ve likely shifted to trying to find Petra before she flees the country.” Damn, he was brilliant. And very likely correct. “Did you have someone looking for us in Roswell?” Ethan asked before Natalie had even thought to go there. “No. We’ve got people in Vegas, Albuquerque and Odessa actively looking for you, but we left Roswell after that first night. “Can you have someone meet us in Santa Rosa, New Mexico in the next hour or so?” Ethan asked. Natalie studied him through narrowed eyes. Why was he telling her father about the Dauphin? “Natalie will be safer with Arrow assets than with me. Once I go it solo, I can start looking for Petra on my own.” “Consider it done. And if you decide to come in with Natalie, we’ll cover you as well,” her father promised. “I’ll ,” Ethan replied, his voice still glacier cold. Natalie extracted her fingers, stood and started to pace. Damn him. He’d done this without talking it through with her. He’d made a decision for her, and it made him no better than her father. She strode toward Ethan and the phone, cut it off without saying goodbye. Picked up the device and extracted the battery, then wheeled on him, her anger growing with each second. “How could you do that?” she ground out, barely keeping herself from shouting. His betrayal stung. It didn’t matter if he thought it was safer or the better decision. He’d done it without her consent.

He stood, placed his hands on her shoulders, left them hovering for a long moment when she shrugged them off. “He’s not wrong, Natalie,” he said, his voice cold, that slow caramel accent gone hard. “I am an alcoholic, I am a gambler and I do owe twenty five thousand dollars to Rob. I did blow through almost a quarter of a million dollars. And I can’t take any of it back. Can’t do anything but put one foot in front of the other and try not to make the same mistakes again. “I don’t want your future to hinge on my decisions. Especially if I make the wrong call again.” As pissed as she was, her heart ached at his words. He was an operator at heart, just like her, and she knew she’d probably do the same thing he had if she doubted her own judgement. But in this case she didn’t. She trusted him, his rock-solid demeanor, his sensibility, his safekeeping. “We’re not splitting up in Santa Rosa. Either you come in with me, or we disappear together.” She made her tone no-nonsense. She still hadn’t forgiven him, but she could understand where he was coming from. This time when he rested his hands on her shoulders she let him keep them there. “I need to do this, Natalie. I need you to be safe. Go with the Arrow assets and turn yourself in to the Marshals when the time is right. We don’t know who else is out there looking for us. The guys who showed up in Roswell weren’t your father’s men and they sure as hell weren’t Marshals or feds of any kind. They add unknown variables to this. They could be Ward’s men. Could be bounty hunters, could be Russian mob for all we know.” He ran his hands down her arms, clasped her hands. “You’ve got a life to live. That cushy job in the corner office whether it’s with Arrow or another company. You’ve done the work. Would be an asset to anyone as an operator.” His mouth quirked up in a ghost of a grin. “Don’t squander that life by sticking this out because you’re stubborn.” She stepped back, stung by his words. Mostly because they made sense and she didn’t want them to. Even worse, she could feel him withdrawing with every word. “We’ll see,” she said. “Now let’s go find your helicopter.”

Ethan knew he hadn’t swayed Natalie with his words, but dammit, he meant every single one of them. She had a future. He had a mountain of debt, a tragic credit rating and a studio apartment in a semi-shitty section of Oklahoma City. Them getting together over the course of this had been nature. Two strong personalities with an attraction that was off the charts. With the danger and adrenaline, it was to be expected. And he did have feelings for her, but they couldn’t be anything other than true affection. He couldn’t afford the distraction she’d make as he got back on his feet. And she couldn’t afford being attached to someone like him, not when her life had so many possibilities. So much potential, with or without her father’s company. But saying the words was so damned hard that he struggled with them almost the entire way to Santa Rosa. The drive had been filled with staticky news and country music and not a whole lot of talking between the two of them. Maybe neither could find the words. As the sun rose in the sky and they neared the city limits, he finally said fuck it. “Listen, Natalie,” he said, cleared his throat. “I meant what I said. You’ve got a future. I’m already a lost cause.” When she started to respond, he held up his hand. “Just let me get this out, okay? At her nod he continued. “I may not always be a lost cause, but right now, I’m a bad bet. And trust me, I know a lot about those.” His attempt at humor fell flat. “I’ve thought about this for the last hour, and I need something from you.” He could tell he’d piqued her interest as she turned to him, her gaze focused on him, rather than the road unfurling beneath them. “I need you to be another set of eyes on the inside for me. I’ve got Rob and Cris, but Arrow has a completely different subset of information networks, just by who you are, as a company. Even if they clear both of us, Petra is still out there, and I can’t abide by the fact I assisted in her escape. Yeah, Ward was a dick, but he didn’t deserve to die that way. I really don’t like the idea of a potential foreign agent working within our borders. “So help me out, please. Do what only you can do from the inside while I try to

clear both of our names from out here.” He saw her shoulders slump in defeat and hated himself for it. But having her out of harm’s way was worth every bit of self-derision he was earning. Santa Rosa appeared on the horizon, a smallish town on the edge of Interstate 40 and Route 66. Traditional roadside hotels began to appear alongside the same chain eateries. Then they were through town and following the signs to the airport. Ethan’s heart began to thump. Excitement or anxiety, he wasn’t sure, but the closer they got, the calmer he became, until his beating heart was all he could hear. They pulled past the deserted terminal, bumped over a weedy berm and around a hangar, and there she was. The Dauphin, sitting there pretty as you please, seemingly without a scratch. Knowing it could be a trap, he tucked the Jeep in close to the side of the dilapidated building after Natalie exited and slipped around the corner. Seamless. Part of him sighed as she disappeared from his sight. He’d miss working with her when this was done. Miss the way they’d begun to finish each other’s sentences. He’d never had a partner like that. Probably never would again. He squared his shoulders and stepped out of the Jeep. Waited for a hail or another vehicle approaching, anything. But it was pure silence in the high desert, with only the morning breeze and birds chirping. He stepped to the Dauphin, found it unlocked, and climbed into the cockpit, started to get her airworthy. Natalie finished her security sweep, then circled the aircraft, looking for any little gifts Petra might have left behind. There was nothing, so Ethan continued his sequencing. The Dauphin was low on gas, but that was to be expected. He ran through his fuel options, knowing it was unlikely there’d be anything here, even if it was being used for less-than-legal purposes. But there was enough to get him the sixty miles to Tucumcari and the airport there. He’d call Rob before he lifted off, get them credit there so it’d be a fast turn.

He squinted into the sun, saw a thread of dust approaching and got out of the chopper, headed to where Natalie stood. “Get in the chopper,” he told her. “If they’re not friendly, we can evade.” She nodded, followed him and climbed into the copilot’s seat. A huge black Suburban reminiscent of what had picked them up in Midland pulled up a good hundred yards from the chopper. The same driver stepped out, then opened the back door, and Mandy emerged. The big hair was a giveaway, but the diminutive size and eye-popping clothing were the final piece of the puzzle. There was no other emissary Flynn could have sent that would be more recognizable…or trustworthy. He turned to Natalie. She was watching him with a steady gaze. “Go with her, sunshine. Be safe. Call me when you have news.” He held up the cell phone they’d agreed he would keep since she’d have access to other phones and knew the number. She leaned forward, brushed a kiss across his lips, then another, one that lingered and he wanted to fall into, more than anything he’d wanted in his entire life. Then she pulled away, ran her fingers through his now-dark hair. “Stay safe, Ethan. Come back to me.” She stepped out of the chopper and as soon as she was clear he accelerated the blade rotation. Waited until she’d reached Mandy, and then lifted off, his entire mind and body screaming at him to stay put, to stay on the ground. To stay with her. To keep her safe, even though she was more than capable of taking care of that all on her own. Instead he pointed the helicopter east and flew away.

Natalie watched as the Dauphin became a spot on the horizon, then turned to Mandy. “So you’re my escort?” “Nothing but the best, darlin’,” she replied, plumping up her hair. “We’ve got a safe house in Albuquerque, and then Greg will be here in the afternoon to take you back to Maryland.” Natalie wanted to be happy to hear it, but her head and heart were winging east with Ethan. How the hell had that happened in four short days? Because she was pretty sure she was falling for Ethan Masters and it had nothing to do with adrenaline or shared danger or any of that bullshit. It had everything to do with him, and the man he’d shown himself to be over the last four days. “Let’s go,” she said tonelessly, and turned to the open door of the back seat of the SUV. But something made her begin to turn. A noise, a feeling. Something. She heard the soft pop and then the crackle of electricity as first the driver, and then Mandy fell to their knees and then onto their faces, leads running from their backs. She completed the turn as if in slow motion, saw one man and one woman holding the Tasers that had brought the duo down. Stared into the large bore of the handgun pointing directly at her held by yet another man. In that split second, she considered diving into the truck, trying to outrun whoever the hell this was. And then dismissed it as the scenario played through her mind flicker-quick. As the logistician in her filtered through escape options and rejected them all. She was outmanned and outgunned. They hadn’t used deadly force on Mandy or the driver. Hadn’t used the stun gun on her. Besides the hangar that they had undoubtedly been hiding in, there was no cover. They’d either disable or shoot her outright if she ran. So instead, she faced them, kept her face imive, her hands held high. “I’m assuming I’m now a hostage?” Her father’s prediction had come true, just not

from the quarter he’d expected. Not from Ethan. The man holding the gun rolled his eyes. “Jesus honey, can the melodrama, will ya? You’re not a hostage, you’re bounty.” He nodded at the woman who’d Tased Mandy. “The other one should be in back seat.” “Disarm her,” he ordered the second man, who disionately frisked Natalie, removed her pistol and then stepped out of the range of her hands and feet. She watched them, something ticking at the back of her mind. It was just out of reach, and right now she had to focus on what was happening around her. The female bounty hunter, long and lean and utterly professional, opened the door to the Suburban and pulled out a bound and gagged Petra. The Ukrainian stared at them all with wide eyes, to include Natalie, who still held her hands at shoulder’s height. This was still an emerging situation and she wasn’t going to get ventilated for moving too quickly. The woman made a move to ungag Petra, but Natalie stopped her. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.” The leader, who still held his weapon on her, cocked his head, pursed his lips. “And why is that?” “Because she’ll give you the same tearful rendition she gave me and our pilot. Which is all bullshit. We’ve been on the run for four days because of her, and I don’t want to hear her proclaiming her innocence in that little lost girl voice.” Petra’s gaze went venomous and the man laughed, lowering his weapon at last, but keeping himself and his other henchman a good distance away. The woman stayed at Petra’s back, close enough that the assassin couldn’t use leverage to flip her or kick her. The group was one hundred percent professional, and Natalie sent her patron saint a quick thanks. This was about money. Maybe power and favors, but wasn’t personal, not like a hostage scenario could be. And that she could understand. And work with. Even if they turned her over to the Marshals. But she was pretty sure her father would cut a much better deal. “Tessa,” the head honcho looked at the woman. “Put her in the enger seat,

standard restraints. It’ll be easier to use their wheels than overload ours.” Natalie looked beyond them for the first time, could barely see another tank-like SUV tucked behind a patch of mesquite. It was so well hidden she and Ethan had driven right past it. “You gonna play nice?” the man asked. Natalie nodded. “Bounty hunters I can deal with. So who are you?” “Name’s Erickson. That’s Tessa and Brodie. We’re out of Vegas.” “How’d you find me?” He shrugged as he pointed her toward the vehicle in the scrub. “It’s all about s, babe. Who you know.” She walked without complaint, wishing that she hadn’t ditched the necklace in Roswell. At least Arrow would have known where she was. Then again, she and Ethan would have been nailed that first night, and she had absolutely zero regrets on what had happened because she’d decided to trust Ethan rather than the company. But there was one thing weighing on her mind. “Did you have another team on us in Roswell yesterday?” He looked up at her, surprise on his face. “Wasn’t us, and I can guarantee it wasn’t the Marshals. They have one-dimensional minds. Even if we didn’t have sources, we wouldn’t have stayed in Vegas. People like you and Masters are unpredictable. You have too much training and smarts to do the safe thing. So we hit Albuquerque and laid low.” He stopped, as did Brodie. “If it wasn’t us, and it wasn’t the Marshals, then who was it?” Natalie shook her head. “Maybe Ward’s guys? They seemed more like muscle than security, though. Who knows who the hell is after Petra, though?” Erickson cursed. “Dammit. Listen, Flynn. We run a clean business. Mostly highend stuff, just like your friend Masters. I’ve got no beef with you or your father. Whoever bids the highest on the chickie back there wins. But I’m not dealing with Ward’s mob goons or some overseas fucks.”

Natalie was oddly reassured. He was ridiculously matter of fact. Natalie suspected he was only talking to her because of who she was. “When did Ethan and I get a bounty?” That was what was bothering her. While they were being hunted, it’d only been a few days, and it usually took much longer than that for a bounty to be issued. Law enforcement liked to at least try before giving away money. “You don’t have one, only Petra. You’re a fugitive. All we’ll get for you is goodwill.” “Then let me go. I can guarantee the goodwill you’ll get from Arrow Security will far outweigh what you get from law enforcement.” While it was a relief to hear there was no bounty on her head, she wanted out of here, yesterday. “Good try. Word on the street is that you’re an accessory to murder, so I think I’ll stick with not pissing off the feds. Plus, you’re an unknown quantity. I don’t like unknown quantities, so you’re going to be bound until we get you to the Marshals. We’re going to hole up in a little spot we found, and then Tessa is going to bounce our signal off of a bunch of cell towers and then call your father and see if he’ll beat the bounty for the Russian.” She almost corrected him on Petra’s nationality, but who really cared? “And if he doesn’t?” “Then we’ll get her to a location to be determined, and you to the Federal Justice Tower in Vegas. Safely.” “And if my father can incentivize letting me go, would you do it?” “I’d consider it,” Erickson said, studying her through narrowed eyes. “But it’d have to be one hell of an incentive.” Natalie tried to project confidence. “Then let’s do that.” But inside she wondered if her father would actually come through after the words they’d had. Erickson resumed walking toward the truck. “We’ll see what your father has to say.” Natalie sat in the front seat, allowed her hands to be zip tied without a fuss.

Between the ties and the cross-body seatbelt, she wasn’t going anywhere. Nor did she really want to. Not with the unknown goons still out there. She’d take this safe harbor and figure a way out. Because she hadn’t killed Ward, and was sure everyone knew it. She’d just rather find her way to law enforcement all on her own, thank you very much. They bumped over dusty, dilapidated roads that were half asphalt and half gravel until the land began to turn hilly. Then around a hillock that led to a tiny town. A ghost town. The faded sign proclaimed it to be Jackson, New Mexico, population 252. Both vehicles pulled into a barn that had seen better days about a century ago, and then the men were pulling her and Petra out of the SUVs while Tessa covered them. Next door to the barn was an old jail house. Down the street she could see a corral, what looked like a stable, and all the accoutrements of a ranching or mining town that was long dead. She and Petra were seated at a sturdy table, legs tied to the chair legs, bound hands on the table in front of them. Natalie could have protested, told them she didn’t plan on trying to escape, but knew it would be a moot point. They were professionals. And so was she.

Chapter 13

Ethan settled the Dauphin onto the sole landing pad at the airport in Tucumcari and headed for the airport manager’s office, praying Rob had received his text requesting a credit line here. He had a few of the gift cards left and could use them as well, but it looked pretty amateurish to fuel a helo this expensive with big box prepaids. Rob had indeed received his text, so he was cleared to refuel and start the twoand-a-half-hour flight to Oklahoma City. He sat in the airport lounge as a lineman refueled the Dauphin, making chit chat with the desk manager, who ooohed and awwwwed over the chopper before burying himself in his cell phone. Ethan suspected he was texting his friends and telling them to come get a look while they could. Everything about it seemed wrong. The casual refueling. Sitting in the small lounge, drinking bad coffee. He should be with Natalie, not here. He fidgeted, waited what seemed like forever. And just as he was standing, getting ready to head to the Dauphin and start micromanaging the lineman, the burner rang. He picked it up, pretty sure it was Natalie’s friend Bec from the Maryland area code. “Hello,” he answered, not willing to give anything up in case he was wrong. “This is Rebecca. A woman named Mandy just called and said Natalie had been taken from them, that they were assaulted and tased.” “Fuck,” Ethan breathed, and sprinted across the tarmac toward the chopper. The lineman had just finished and was pulling the fuel truck away as he jumped in

the cockpit, started the rotors turning. “I’ve only been gone a little over half an hour. I had to fuel up. I can be back in less than thirty-five minutes.” “Copy. I’ll meet you in Santa Rosa in twenty minutes. I’m enroute from Roswell. I flew out as soon as Natalie called, but missed you.” “You don’t need to—” he began before he was cut off. “Yes I do. She’s my best friend and we’ve been through things you can’t even imagine together. I’ll be there by the time you touch down.” The line went dead, and Ethan began the eight-and-a-half-minute sequence of bringing the helicopter back online and ready to launch. In those minutes his mind raced through every possible scenario. That it was the Marshals. But they wouldn’t have tased Mandy and her driver. They would have taken them into custody for aiding and abetting. That left Ward’s men, and his gut churned at the thought. It should have been him. He’d left someone behind. Again. He launched at the earliest possible moment, thankful that Tucumcari was so small he wasn’t jockeying for airspace. He pushed the Dauphin to full speed and was in range of the Santa Rosa airport within twenty minutes, helped along by a tailwind. As he landed he watched Mandy, her driver and a blonde woman exit the dilapidated hangar, waiting for him to put the skids down. He put the chopper into hot status, with the blades still turning, and dashed to them. “What have we got?” He yelled, following them into the hangar. “Unknown, but they’re only about twenty miles down the road,” Mandy said, anger flattening the curves of her mouth. “They took Pepe, so we were able to track them.” “Pepe?” Ethan asked, concerned there was another potential hostage.

“My Little Mule,” she said, as if that clarified everything. The woman he assumed was Rebecca shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’m Rebecca. Apparently Mandy is a fan of classic romance movies.” She turned to Mandy. “Tell him who else they took.” A calculating light entered Mandy’s eyes, as if she was figuring out how to play it. Then she shrugged. “Petra. We bagged her this morning when she ditched the chopper. Apparently her didn’t make it on time. We were waiting to pick you up and then head to Maryland on a charter outside Albuquerque.” “Why didn’t Greg just tell us that this morning? Jesus.” Ethan ran his hand through is hair. “You people and your mind games. I’m done with it. If you’d been straight with us, they wouldn’t have taken Natalie.” He turned to Bec. “Want to take a flight?” “Hey,” Mandy argued, her driver so silent at her side Ethan wondered if he was mute. “You can’t just leave us here.” “I can and will,” he said, “until we do recon.” “Here,” Bec said, tossing Mandy her keys. “Take my car and follow us. It’s all on the company dime anyway.” Ethan was already walking out the door, not particularly caring what Mandy and Harold did at this point. He reflexively ducked beneath the lazily spinning rotors and strapped in. Rebecca did the same in the copilot’s seat, her movements economic, sparse, and trained. He looked at her square in the eye. Let his feelings show. “Let’s go get our girl.” She nodded, a look of cool calculation entering her expression as they lifted off. The flight was barely long enough to bring them to altitude, the terrain just hilly enough to hide them, the Dauphin quiet enough to keep them undiscovered. What Ethan saw as they dipped over the horizon confused him.

There were no vehicles in sight, but a man and a woman obviously wearing battle rattle were lounging on the porch of what looked to be a sheriff’s office of old. Like they’d been flashed to the past, but wearing current weapons and body armor. He peeled off to the west as he saw a thin plume of dust rising from the road. It might be Mandy, but as he checked his watch, he realized it couldn’t. Even if they’d been doing sixty on the rutted road, they wouldn’t have made it this far yet. So who were the newcomers?

Natalie settled back in her chair as much as she could with her legs bound. Her ass was starting to fall asleep from sitting, and Petra kept trying to make conversation through her gag. Natalie ignored her. All she really had to do was be patient and look for her opportunity to escape. Or for her father to come through when she needed him most. In fact, right now, she could hear Erickson deal making with her father on the phone. When the man approached two minutes later, she didn’t much like the pity in his eyes. “He wants the Ukrainian,” he said uncomfortably. “He’s sending you to the Marshals.” Betrayal like she’d never felt stabbed her in the gut. She’d pawned off one too many of Greg’s actions because after they’d lost Mom he’d just shut down. Like a good little girl she’d done everything he asked. To make life easier. To make him love her. She’d been an idiot. But she’d wanted to believe in his love so badly. She was pretty sure any affection in Greg Flynn’s heart had died with her mother. “He knows you can handle this, but he wants control of her,” Erickson pointed his chin at Petra, “for damage control.” Yeah, she knew what this really was. He’d thrown her under the fucking bus in order to save face for Arrow, assured she’d be the obedient daughter and toe the line.

She’d walked away from Ethan for nothing. Spent her entire life trying to make her father see her. And she’d failed. Spectacularly. She shifted her chin higher, not willing to let Erickson see her defeat. Her absolute heartache. But he did anyway. “I know a Marshal,” he said as he dragged Petra away from the table, none too gently. “He’ll treat you right, make sure you’re lawyered up before he asks you questions, okay?” She nodded in thanks, and settled against her chair, waiting. Angry at her father. Angry at herself for allowing him that much headspace. She’d risked everything for him, for Greg, as she was now determined to think of him. No more. Fuck Arrow. And fuck her father. “Inbound!” Her musings were cut short by a hail from Tessa. She sounded stressed, which meant the newcomers weren’t expected. “Two Escalades, windows down, weapons visible. I make four per vehicle. We’re screwed.” “Cut me loose,” Natalie demanded. “Give me my weapon back and I’ll fight with you,” she promised. Erickson had pushed Petra into an old-time jail cell, keeping her out of his way and out of harm’s way as well. He whirled on Natalie, looked at her hard for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. “Keep your head down and don’t get dead.” “I won’t,” she promised, and held out her hands. He sliced through the zip ties with one swipe of his knife, let her fumble with her leg restraints as he ordered Tessa and Brodie into the room, began to set up defenses. She threw away the last of the ropes, made sure Petra was safely detained behind the old steel bars and then palmed the weapon Erickson thrust at her. Smiled when she heard the thump of helicopter blades in the distance. “We’ve got backup,” she said, and her frozen heart began to thaw.

“I need you to get in the main cabin as soon as I touch down, understand?” Rebecca looked at him as they descended, then seemed to read his mind. “Copy. Ready as soon as we get close.” He hovered just over the bare ground as she hopped out of the copilot’s seat and jumped into the cabin. Left the door open as she braced on a skid and removed her belt, roping herself into the locking mechanism. Then she pulled out her weapon and they were ready. He nosed the Dauphin up, kept it on the far side of the hill, where the approaching vehicles wouldn’t hear or see them. And then, as the two SUVs came to a stop in front of the now-deserted front porch of the Sheriff’s office, he pushed the chopper to its limits, zooming low over the hardpack, just like he’d done a hundred times before over the course of his career. And while there had been high stakes before, his heart had never felt lodged into his throat, his pulse had never truly beat with fear rather than adrenaline. The vehicles disgorged four big men from each SUV. In the distance he could see another dust plume. Assumed it was Mandy. Who would be too late. The men fanned out, encircling the small building, and it was at that moment Ethan knew they had an insider. Someone who’d known they were going to be in Santa Rosa. He shot a hard look at Rebecca, wondering if it was her, but she had a warrior-woman look on her face as she hung mostly out of the cabin door. No, he couldn’t see it. She was all in on this op, and could have easily stayed behind and out of danger. The men opened fire just as he entered town, and as soon as she was in range, Rebecca started taking careful, precise, phenomenal shots that wounded at least two of the men before Ethan had to take her out of range and circle around. By the time he entered the area again, from a different angle, only two of the men were still standing, taking shelter behind a building. He looked at Rebecca,

motioned down and got her nod in response, then dropped the Dauphin to the deck a few hundred yards behind them. Rebecca had already unstrapped herself and jumped down, running as her feet hit the hardpack. Ethan lifted off, veered to the west, swooping in and making enough noise to draw fire and keep their attention off their six. He evaded the small arms fire, wincing when a bullet whizzed through the open door of the cabin and exited through the glass on the other side. In response, he headed straight for them, kicking up dust and obscuring everything around them. He hoped Natalie would use the dust for what it was… cover and diversion. When he landed the chopper a hundred yards out moments later, the dust had died down. He ran the distance with every bit of speed he had in him and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Natalie, two other men and a blonde woman securing the shooters. Rebecca emerged with the last two marching in front of her at gunpoint, weapons in both hands, and a gun at her waist from disarming them. He hurried forward to help, took a set of zip ties from a gigantic blond man wearing full battle rattle, secured one of the men Rebecca was bringing in. He took a hard look and realized it was one of the men from Roswell. At least he knew that loose end had now been ed for. He stood and Natalie was right there. He reached out, the move instinctual, ingrained, and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his body. Let out a long, almost shuddering sigh at the way she felt in his arms. She squeezed him right back, then loosened her grip, stepped back, put a bit of distance between them. “I knew you’d come back,” she whispered and surged up to give him a kiss that lit his world on fire. He would have happily continued with that simple, world-shattering kiss, but a throat-clearing ahem separated them, almost a mirror to their very first kiss on the picnic bench, what seemed like ages ago.

Rebecca stood next to them, grinning from ear to ear. “You okay, Nat?” Ethan felt like a total ass for not asking that question first, but Natalie answered with an answering smile. “I’m fine. Erickson, Tessa and Brodie are pros. They’re bounty hunters.” She turned to the man who’d handed Ethan the zip ties. “Ethan, this is Erickson. Hell, I don’t even know your first name.” Ethan assessed the man, wondering what his next steps would be. What he planned on doing with Natalie and Petra. As is if summoned from his thoughts, the blonde female bounty hunter—he assumed Tessa--led Petra down the rickety stairs, planted her ass on the ground a good distance away from the shooters, but still close enough to keep an eye on, and tackle to the ground if she decided to run. Erickson looked at Ethan hard, gave him a nod. “Leif.” He held up a hand before anyone could say anything. Tessa gave an amused smile. “I know. Nice flying.” He looked at the Dauphin. “Bet that one’s going to bring a pretty penny, even with a bullet hole or two in it.” “She’s mine,” Ethan growled, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he meant the helicopter or Natalie. Maybe both. “Not if you’re in custody, she’s not,” the other man, Brodie, said. Ethan didn’t like the way the three were looking at him and Natalie. Depending on where Rebecca allied, it could be an even fight. One they might win. Especially if Mandy and her silent driver showed up in the next few minutes. They might have been tight-lipped on Petra being in the SUV, but at the end of the day she was linked with Arrow, not these yahoos in front of him. “Rebecca, I need to know where you stand,” he said quietly, so only the three of them could hear it. “With Natalie,” she said. “You’re growing on me, flyboy, but always with Natalie.”

He nodded, his gut feeling confirmed. Erickson was obviously the leader, so he was the one that needed convincing. “I’m taking that chopper. And Natalie and Rebecca as well.” He heard the words drop like bricks in the silence. Erickson studied him for a long moment. Lifted his head and saw the plume of dust approaching. Tilted his head, considering, then made a lassoing movement with his hand. “Saddle up. We had a deal with Arrow, and we don’t break deals. Grab the Ukranian. I want to get out of here before the feds show up and try to take her away.” He turned back to their trio. “The Marshal’s name is Harmon out of the Vegas District Office. Assure him you’ll turn yourself in. Today. Tell Rob he owes me that much.” Ethan dipped his head in assent. “I will, and I’d love to know how you know him.” “That’s a story for another day,” Erickson replied. “The Marshals are on their way to clean up this mess,” he gestured to the men lying on the ground. “I’ll also be collecting any bounty attached to their names.” He threw them a sardonic little salute, but it was enough of one for Ethan to know the man had served at some point. “It’s all about the payday, boys and girls.” But Ethan was pretty sure for Erickson it wasn’t. At all. It was none of his business, though. Not when the man was allowing them to leave with their assurances to turn themselves in. The three bounty hunters loaded Petra into their SUV and pulled away, through the little ghost town, disappearing into the hills in seconds. The dust plume had grown bigger. Ethan turned to the women. “Do we stay or go?” Natalie’s face took on a hard edge he hadn’t seen before. “We go.” They ran to the Dauphin and were lifting off just as Mandy pulled into town. Ethan threw the woman a little finger wave and banked to the east, more than happy to put New Mexico behind him. Behind them.

He looked in the rear-view mirror and saw Natalie and Rebecca exchanging a hard hug before they strapped in, both putting on headsets after they were secured. “Can you drop me back in Santa Rosa?” Rebecca asked. “I need to hook back up with my crew.” Natalie looked sad, and he wished her friend would stay with her, with them, but he understood duty, and knew Natalie did as well. A few minutes later they landed at the small airstrip. Rebecca hopped out and Natalie ed him in the cockpit. She waved to her friend. “She’s giving us a bit more lead time and laying a bit of a false trail for us. How soon will we be in Oklahoma City?” “Two and a half, maybe three hours,” he said. “Should be more than enough time. She’s telling them we’re heading to Houston,” she grinned at him and his heart, already on a precipice, tumbled.

Ethan had donned his sunglasses the second he settled back into the cockpit, and Natalie would have given most anything to see his eyes. To see what he was thinking. He’d come back for her. Just like four days ago, he’d returned. But this time it wasn’t as a repossession agent hunting a commission, it was as someone who’d worshipped her body. Who’d held her through the night. She wanted to tell him how her heart had soared as he and Rebecca came roaring into the ghost town like avenging angels, how she and the three bounty hunters had been holding back their attackers, but it had been a close thing. His appearance had turned the tide, and then he’d lifted her away to freedom. But right now he had a serious pilot face on, and she didn’t want to interrupt him, at least not yet. What she really wanted to do was have him land the damned thing so they could talk. Maybe continue the kiss from back in Jackson. Oh, they would still have to reckon with the Marshals when they hit Oklahoma City. And she’d have to deal with her father, but right now she was riding the adrenaline high of having won a righteous battle. One for her freedom. And Ethan had been the saving grace of that freedom. Again. She toggled her headphones. “Any chance we can land somewhere quiet so I can go to the ladies room?” Ethan looked at her, a slow smile curving his mouth. “What, restrooms weren’t up to snuff in the old ghost town?” “Y’know, not even sure,” she said, grinning back at him. “I was kinda tied up for most of it, and then people were shooting.” He scanned the ground beneath him, thought for a long moment. “We can hit Tucumcari again. It’s close and a decent terminal. Small enough for us to get in and out quickly.” She’d have rather gone for someplace out of the way, just to take a breather, but she’d take what she could get.

A few moments later they were landing at the small regional airport, and he was right. It was small. They walked into the terminal and Ethan made small talk with the airport manager about needing some to-go food while she used the bathroom, before they headed down to Houston. They grabbed some pre-made sandwiches and chips and headed back to the Dauphin. “Can we sit in the back, just for a few minutes? It’s been a busy morning.” She paused. “But if you think we should be on the move…” He grabbed her hand, pulled her to a stop. “We’ve got time, sunshine. Let’s grab a bite and settle for a few.” She clasped his fingers, and her stomach did a somersault when he didn’t push her away. When he grasped them even tighter, then helped her into the luxurious cabin of the Dauphin, his hands lingering on her hips as he gave her a boost. They settled in next to each other, ate their lunch, took a much-needed breath. Set a fifteen-minute timer, so they weren’t on the ground for too long. When she turned to him after finishing the last of her sandwich, the look, the intensity, the smoldering in his gaze took her breath away. “Thought I might have lost you, sunshine,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent delicious sensation racing up her spine. “But you can take care of yourself, can’t you?” He cupped her cheek, brought her in for a light kiss. “Know I shouldn’t, not with everything happening, but seeing you safe…” He trailed off, rested his forehead against hers. She melted in response, tipped his face up to hers and fell into a kiss so simple, so pure, it almost made her weep. Made her want things she knew he wasn’t ready to give. That maybe she wasn’t ready for either. But it didn’t matter as they made out in the luxury of the helicopter, as their hands smoothed and teased and tempted until the alarm went off and they had to come up for air. For reality.

Chapter 14

Ethan didn’t want to leave the ground in Tucumcari. Wanted to stay right here, in this escape pod. But knew he couldn’t. They couldn’t. They had an appointment with the U.S. Marshals as soon as he touched down in Oklahoma City. Or they would, when Natalie called the Las Vegas Erickson had given her. Which Ethan asked her to do before they lifted off. There was no reason to delay, not when he was ninety-nine percent sure he and Natalie had been exonerated. Didn’t mean they wouldn’t be brought in for questioning, so the feds could figure out what the hell had happened. They sat in the back while Natalie made the call. “Harmon.” He was short, sweet and to the point. “Agent Harmon, I’m Natalie Flynn, and with me is Ethan Masters.” “Miss Flynn,” Harmon said, his voice tipping toward cordiality. “I’m glad to hear from you. Where are you? I’d like to sit down and have a chat with you and Mr. Masters.” She was sure he did. “You can meet us at Red River Recovery in Oklahoma City in about two hours,” she replied. “We’re getting ready to go airborne and will be out of comms until then.” “I can come to you where you are,” he suggested. “I’m in Albuquerque and can be there within a few hours.” “We’re going to Oklahoma City,” she said again. “I’m sure you can meet us there, as well.” He sighed long and loud. “I understand, but I had to try. Masters?”

“I’m here,” Ethan replied. “I’d want to turn that bird in as well. I’ll meet you in OKC. I’ll have a Marshal waiting, but just until I get there.” “Understood,” Ethan replied. “You need to know that my next phone call is to Cris O’Connor and Scott Lincoln with the OSBI,” he said, referring to the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation Agent in Charge. “They’ll have our backs once we land.” Ethan would have sworn the Marshal sounded amused. “Of course. I’ll see you soon.” Natalie disconnected the call, then handed the phone to Ethan. He called Rob and Cris, gave them a status update, then disconnected. Stared at the phone in his hand. Knew he had to say what was in his heart, even if she didn’t want to hear it. “I know I’m a bad bet, Natalie, but when this is all over, can I call you? I don’t want to lose touch.” She reached over, tipped up his chin so they were eye to eye. “I’d like that very, very much.” A smile tipped her lips, and it was a sad one. “We both have some cleanup to do.” He nodded, glad she hadn’t shut him down as soon as he mentioned it, then began to gather their trash, looked mournfully at the bullet hole in one of the windows. But things were looking up. Natalie was still speaking to him, kissing him, willing to talk later. He would deal with bullet holes all day for a second chance with her.

The flight to Oklahoma City was frighteningly fast. So fast that Natalie wished time would slow, that she’d have just a few more minutes with Ethan. With the woman she’d become over the last few days. She wanted to be free, to be the woman who necked in the back of a helicopter, cuddled in the back of a Jeep. But instead she’d step into a suit and face down her father. Decide what to do with her life after that. Ethan flew the helicopter into Oklahoma City, heading for Red River Recovery. He’d explained that normally they wouldn’t land a helicopter at the yard, instead going to wherever the bank needed them to drop it off, but given the extenuating circumstances, his boss was willing to allow some irregularity. The fenced-off lot seemed tiny, too small to land such a large helicopter, but Ethan did it with a deft touch, just like he had when he’d flown to her rescue. Not that she’d needed it, but still, the thought counted. As the rotors began to slow, he shut down the dashboard one switch at a time. The back door to the building opened and three people walked out. For the first time, Natalie felt a little shy. These were Ethan’s friends, his boss, his coworkers. And she’d pulled him into this. He stepped out of the cockpit, then moved to the copilot’s side, helped her down even though she didn’t need it. Let his hands linger at her waist for a long moment before he shuttered his expression and turned. Those seconds before he did, she swore she saw longing. Pure, simple, everything. Then they were no longer alone, and anything she might have said in the spur of the moment died on her tongue. A fourth figure stayed in the doorway, and from his stance she guessed it was the Marshal sent to babysit them for their statement. A tiny blonde was the first to reach them, to envelop Ethan in a bear hug that

surprised a grunt out of him and spurred something like jealousy in Natalie. Then Ethan was being regarded by a serious-looking Hispanic man with tattoos edging out of his cuffs, the collar of his shirt. “You did good, Masters.” He held out his hand. “Keys, please.” Natalie saw Ethan smother a grin, then handed the man the keys that would lock and unlock the doors. He turned to her, made introductions. “Natalie, this is Cris O’Connor, my partner, and my boss, Rob Hude. Pretty sure this gentleman is Scott Lincoln, from the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation.” The older man nodded, his sharp blue eyes not missing a thing. “I’m assuming the shadowy figure in the back is a Marshal,” Ethan said dryly. “We were told to wait here until our showed up.” “Which would be why I’m here,” said Agent Lincoln. “He may be a fed, but this is my turf, and we’ll wait.” “But let’s do it in the garage,” Rob said. “Karla hustled up some grub, in case you’re hungry.” Natalie shot Ethan a look she knew had to be smoldering. Didn’t much care. Then she sighed. “And while we wait, I need to call my father.” They headed into the building, which turned out to be a huge, immaculate garage, and with each step, she felt her spine stiffen, her feet grow heavier. A Marshal who didn’t bother to introduce himself, ostensibly from the Oklahoma City district, met them inside and they all settled into folding chairs erected around a collapsible banquet table. She lasted for about two minutes before excusing herself. She could feel Ethan’s gaze tracking her, but this was something she needed to do on her own. Now, before they went into questioning. She knew Greg would want a lawyer present. She didn’t care. She just wanted it all to be over. “Arrow Security,” her father answered.

“Greg,” she said, “I’m safe, and in Oklahoma City.” “What the ever-loving fuck are you doing there?” he hollered, and she jerked the phone away from her ear, blinked back tears. There was no “I’m so happy you’re safe” or “are you okay.” It made the bile rise in her stomach until she was choking it back. She’d been right. So very fucking right. “Delivering a helicopter, that’s what I’m doing. I’m debriefing with the Marshals in about an hour, I suspect, and then I’ll work on getting a new ID so I can fly home.” “Don’t say a damned word without our lawyer present,” he said, and she curled in on herself even more. “What could I possibly say?” she ground out. “That you sent me in there knowing Petra was probably an assassin? That you had your only child engage in corporate espionage? That you were more than happy to let Ethan take the fall so it wouldn’t damage the company?” She felt an arm curve around her waist and melted back into Ethan’s strength. “It’s okay,” he breathed in her other ear. “I’ve got you.” “I’ll talk to the Marshal when he gets here, and let the chips fall where they may, Greg.” She waited for the outburst and all she got was a sigh in response. “When did you start calling me Greg?” The question was so non sequitur it surprised her for a moment. And then she answered. “When your only child became less important than the company line.” “I deserve that,” he replied. “I’ll have a charter at the Oklahoma City airport in a few hours. But be careful, Natalie. When you stole Ward’s data, you broke the law, regardless of what Petra did. Regardless of who I told you was our client. They’ll come after you.” “Let them come,” she said. “I’ll see you either tonight or tomorrow, depending on if I need bail.” She disconnected the phone, her head suddenly light, her

breath coming in sharp little bursts. “Shhhh,” Ethan rocked her slowly. Pulled her behind a behemoth of an SUV to give them privacy. “I’ve got you,” he repeated. And he did. She turned into his arms, burrowed against him. Soaked in his solid strength. His reliability. The fact he was here with her right now, when he could have turned away so many times. She took a deep breath that smelled of him, then another, her resolve returning with each moment. She looked up to see the concern in his eyes, stepped out of his arms. “It’s a family thing,” she said lamely. “Bullshit,” he replied, his normal easygoing caramel voice now hard and unforgiving. “No one gets to treat you like that.” She smiled, placed a hand on his chest. “Let it go, Ethan. This is one I have to deal with on my own.” He covered her hand with his own, pressed them both against his heart. “Only if you want to,” he promised, and her heart rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. “If I need backup, you’re the first person I’ll call,” she promised. Their moment was broken by the arrival of Agent Harmon, and they left the safety of the corner of the garage and settled in to give their statements. The very first thing she was going to tell the Marshal was that Petra would be in Maryland soon. In Arrow custody. If Greg had shown any remorse, if he’d shown one ounce of love, she probably would have let him tell the Marshals he had the assassin. Would have let her father debrief Petra for the good of the company. But he’d made Natalie’s decision for her with every word he’d spoken. God, she was tired. She really hoped she wasn’t going to jail today, because she really wanted her own shower, her own bed, her own little condo, before she had to face her father. And while she’d love to have Ethan’s solidity with her all the time, she needed to stand on her own two feet.

Ethan didn’t much like the way Harmon separated them, although he understood it. He waived his right to an attorney, since he hadn’t really done anything wrong. Except harbor a suspected murderess and a potential felon. But Harmon was more interested in getting the goods on Petra than anything else. Offered Ethan immunity for his testimony, which he happily took. OSBI Agent Lincoln sat in on the questioning, at Cris’ behest, Ethan was sure. And since he didn’t say a damned word, Ethan left the interview feeling pretty good. He felt even better when Rob ushered him inside his office. His boss closed the door, gestured for him to sit. “You did good, Masters,” Rob said, when he so rarely gave praise. “Despite the bullet hole.” Ethan cringed, and then straightened. He’d done it to save Natalie and the bounty hunters, and he’d do it again. “Your debt is paid,” Rob said, and Ethan felt a relief unlike anything he’d ever known…except seeing Natalie unharmed this morning. “I know you’re only working here to square that debt,” Rob continued. “But if I could keep you on retainer, for when I need a pilot…” “Happily,” Ethan said, then stood and clasped Rob’s hand. “I’d like to take a day or two off, though.” He smiled and Rob ed him in a chuckle. He walked back into the garage, not knowing what he was going to do with himself. It was empty. He assumed Cris and Linc had left after his interview, but where had Natalie gone? Where were the Marshals? Panic began to beat through him when Karla, their dispatcher, called out to him from the doorway to the building. “Your girlfriend said she had to catch a flight to the east coast and that she’d call you later.” While he loved to hear Karla call Natalie his anything, he couldn’t really contain his disappointment. She’d gone. Left without saying goodbye. And taken a piece of his heart in the process.

Natalie and Agent Harmon spent the three-and-a-half-hour flight to Baltimore detailing everything that had happened over the last four days. She now knew she’d committed a crime at her father’s orders. Was willing to pay the price for it if it came to that. She was a big girl and could have refused. But she hadn’t. She’d made the wrong choice because her father had ordered it, and she’d have to live with it. She’d opened her comments by telling him that Petra had been handed over to Arrow, so he could get an agent there quickly. She thought she’d feel uneasy saying the words, but all she felt was relief. By the time they hit the tarmac it was closing in on midnight of one of the longest days of her life. She was allowed to go home, as long as she returned to the Marshal’s district office for her ten o’clock appointment in the morning. There she’d finish her statement and see if they were going to charge her. She doubted it, since they were letting her go home, but she wouldn’t put it past them to put a tail on her to see if she did anything dumb. Like try to flee the country. Honestly, all she wanted was a hot meal, a hot shower and her own bed. She called an Uber that deposited her on her doorstep after swinging by an allnight kabob place. She wolfed the food in the car, luxuriated in the shower for an obscene amount of time, then fell into bed. And couldn’t sleep. Because she missed Ethan. Wondered where he was, what he was doing. It was all so teenagerish and angsty she was disgusted at herself. She was in her mid-thirties. Ethan was even older, if the gray at his temples was any indication. But she didn’t even know that much about him. When his birthday was. What his favorite eats were. She flopped on her pillows and realized it wasn’t just Ethan. They’d been running on adrenaline and nerves for four long days. Been in hiding, dressed for an Alien Fest, and then engaged in a shootout. It was no wonder her nerves were shot to hell.

So she took a melatonin from her medicine cabinet, set her alarm for seven, and fell into a series of hot dreams that featured the man who’d set her world on fire, even as he tried to save her.

Chapter 15

Natalie showed up at the Marshal’s district office fifteen minutes early, feeling more like a human than she had in days. Agent Harmon showed her into an interview room and offered her a cup of coffee that she gratefully took. Feeling better didn’t mean that caffeine wasn’t a priority. Five minutes after they’d settled in, and she’d begun to answer questions again, this time officially, Greg showed up with the company lawyer. “As an employee of Arrow Security, Ms. Flynn will no longer be answering questions without our lawyer present,” he said. He was wearing a slick suit that she knew he’d put on for the express purpose of putting the Marshal in his place as a public servant. Which totally didn’t work. Marshal Harmon leaned back in his chair, not fazed in the slightest. He looked at her. “Up to you, Miss Flynn. Yesterday’s chat was fact finding. Today we need to take your formal statement. We do it now, or we’ll hand you over to the FBI and you can enjoy their fine facilities. I’d suggest we finish here, where you’ve already laid groundwork, and we have a relationship.” She looked at her father. Waited for an emotion rather than anger to overtake her. It didn’t. He was bowling over her—again. Instead of asking the Marshal for a few moments to themselves, where he could really talk to her, he’d continued in corporate mode, not even asking how she was. If she’d been injured in the shootout. And it was that complete disregard for her as his only child that made her decision easy. Had made it easy last night when she told Harmon where Petra was. Right here and now, she was done with it.

She was done with the drama, with never knowing where she stood because he was such a cold fish. He’d shut down when Mama died, but that didn’t give him the right to use her as cannon fodder for the almighty company he obviously loved more than her. So she turned her back to him and faced Harmon. “Let’s continue.” “Stop,” Greg said, stepping to her side and finally looking at her. Pure anger burned in his eyes. He was actually mad at her for not listening to him. For disregarding his order. Probably for handing Petra to the Marshals on a silver platter. But there was no hint of worry in his expression, and she knew for sure she’d made the right decision. “I quit,” she said. She turned her attention to Harmon. Shut her father out. Harmon sat up in his chair. Folded his hands in front of him and looked at Greg. “Your presence and that of counsel has been declined. You can see yourself out.” Greg bulled up, started to round the table when the lawyer caught him by the arm. Harmon watched it all with a little smile, and Natalie knew that the agent would have dropped her father in about two seconds flat. It didn’t matter that Greg was a former Green Beret. That had been years ago, and a rich-man’s lifestyle and age had diminished his physical threat significantly. Especially to a guy like Harmon, who looked like he bench pressed Cadillacs. The Arrow lawyer pulled a sputtering Greg out of the interview room and for a moment Natalie felt triumph. Before everything inside deflated. He was her father. But he’d shown, with each and every action, where his true loyalties lay. Right now she needed to get this interview out of the way and find out if she needed a lawyer on her own.

In the end, she didn’t. She cut a deal Greg would have an apoplexy over, but she didn’t really care. In exchange for the thumb drive she’d been carting around for the last five days, her testimony against Petra, and a very lengthy federal probation, she was free to go about a new life. Part of her probation stipulated that she couldn’t carry a weapon, and for the first few days, she felt naked without it. Vulnerable. As if someone was going to jump out of the bushes and throw down on her. She’d avoided Greg, hoping to give them both time to cool down, but in the end, not talking with him just seemed to fuel her anxiety, so she bit the bullet. Arrow’s primary office in Bethesda was small, intimate, extremely high end, as fit their clientele. She chilled in the waiting room with the receptionist, asked her about her kids and her corgi, chatting about those little mundane things that make a life. And realized she didn’t really have one beyond the job. Not really. She had a company apartment she was going to have to move out of. The thought didn’t raise the panic flag she thought it would. But since she still had access to the company bank , there was one item the receptionist could help her with while she waited. A few minutes later a Broadway star walked out of Greg’s office, tight lipped and halfway to scared. Her father hadn’t put that look in the woman’s flawless face, whatever had driven her to Arrow had. Likely a stalker. Maybe an ex. The receptionist handed her the check they’d discussed and gestured for her to enter the inner sanctum with a smile. Natalie gave her one in return, even though her insides were a tangled mess. Her father sat behind an old-school mile-wide mahogany desk, his expression forbidding. She was pretty sure he already knew about the of her freedom. Disagreed with most of them, most likely. But she didn’t care. She was here to

clear the air, and then figure out who in the hell she wanted to be. “You should have taken counsel,” he began, and she blinked at the sting of his words, even though she should be used to them by now. “I didn’t, and it’s done.” She stood before him like a soldier on parade rest, not even offered a seat. “Consider this my official resignation.” The words were just as much of a relief as they’d been that day in Harmon’s office. “You can still work here, take the vice president’s job, and not be armed,” he offered, as if he was making some great concession. She smiled, bared her teeth just enough for him to take notice. “I’m good, thank you. And before you ask, I have more than enough saved up, thanks to not having to pay rent. Not that I was ever there anyway. I’ll be moving out within the next two weeks.” He gaped at her. Her father actually sat there, open mouthed, as if what she was suggesting was positively ludicrous. So she pressed her advantage. “Have you discovered who the informant was?” There had to have been one. Someone knew exactly where she was that last day in New Mexico, had ensured Ward’s muscle had known exactly where to look. A mole within Arrow was the only possible option, since she’d removed her tracker. “Mandy’s driver,” he rumbled. “She’s more of a peer, but she was keeping an eye out in the region for me. He overheard her, knew an opportunity when he saw it.” Natalie nodded. That made sense, and made her heart beat a little easier, knowing it wasn’t an Arrow asset. She took a deep breath. She had one more thing to say. “You probably have no idea why I spoke with the feds. Why I’m leaving the company, do you?” He just stared at her and planted his elbows on the table. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” “It was the way you threw Ethan under the bus. The way you were willing to see

either of us go to jail as long as it saved this precious company’s prestige. You brought Petra into this equation with the specific purpose of corporate espionage, and we both know it. I think that when she didn’t produce like you wanted, you sent me in.” She’d thought long and hard about this over the last few days. “There was never any concerned family. I’m not sure if you realized how lethal she was, or that she was working for another government. I don’t think we’ll ever know what her motivation truly was, even with how well connected you are. And I don’t care. Not anymore.” There, she’d said her piece. Greg still looked at her steadily, and she fought to stand without shifting, without betraying nerves. “So what will you do with yourself? You were born and bred to do this job. You don’t know anything but adrenaline and this company. And this Ethan Masters? I told you what a loser he is. You should know better after losing Cord.” And that was it. The one thing he could have said that would end their relationship. “Take care, Greg,” she said, turned on her heel, and walked out of the office. As she left, she dropped her office key and identity badge on the receptionist’s desk, and felt immeasurably lighter for it.

Ethan parked the king-cab pickup in front of Red River, refreshed from a week off. Ready to think about work from a different angle. He’d bought the truck second-hand from Rob with the very last of his cut of the Dauphin’s recovery fee. It’d felt good driving up to his parents’ home in Fort Smith with a newish set of wheels and not the busted-out sedan he’d almost driven to death. Finishing up his statement to the Marshals had been the last thing he did before he left town, checking that box. Now he was back in Oklahoma, but he already missed the feel of the earth under his fingers, the way the Arkansas sun had warmed him from the inside out as he worked in his parents’ yard. It’d been good to see them again. On his own . They’d never known about the mountain of debt he’d incurred, just that he’d been in trouble. As family, they wanted to help in any way they could, but there was no way he was dragging them into a mess of his own making. And he’d lucked out when Rob bought his debt, instead of someone like Ward’s goons coming to take it out of his hide. And as he’d weeded and planted and mulched, he thought back to that conversation he’d had with Natalie, what seemed like months ago, when it was actually less than two weeks. Hell, he’d thought of her almost constantly, but she’d gone back to her life on the East coast. She deserved whatever she chose, whether it was to stay with the company she’d put so much time into or striking out on her own. He’d thought, for one crazy moment, of just driving past Fort Smith and going on to Maryland. Of looking her up and seeing if she wanted to grab a burger. Or, since it was Maryland, maybe a crab cake or something. But he didn’t even have her phone number. He could call Arrow and get patched through, he was sure, but honestly, he was petrified she wouldn’t take his call. That she’d had second thoughts about everything they’d said and done. And why wouldn’t she? That time had been an aberration in her life. Just like he was.

So in the end he’d pulled into his parents’ driveway, surprising them and feeling healed almost immediately. And now he was back. On the job, or at least putting his hat back into the ring. The thought of walking away from all this and starting up a landscaping business still flickered on the edges of his mind. But for right now, this was where he needed to be. He walked into Red River Recovery, raised a hand at Karla, their dispatcher. He could have checked in via phone, but wanted the connection, the normalcy. “Ethan,” she greeted with her cigarette scarred voice, her vibrant red hair impossibly poufed, impossibly tall. She had to use enough hairspray to have her very own hole in the ozone layer. She was also fantastic at her job and one of the reasons Red River ran like clockwork. “Welcome back. We missed you.” He smiled. “I missed you too. Got anything for me?” “Nothing that goes up in the air, that’s for sure,” she replied, but handed several message slips over. “You’ve been popular, though.” “The Fork?” he looked at Karla in confusion. “What the hell is The Fork?” She shrugged. “All I know is that this woman has called the last two days looking for you. Won’t give her name or number, just wants to talk to you. And you know I wouldn’t give your number out to some random stranger.” He nodded. He’d been able to get his old number and a new phone the day after they brought the Dauphin in. For a moment he thought it maybe, might be, could be Natalie, especially with the name, and the dream she’d had with her mother of opening a sustainable restaurant. But that was a wish. More of a dream, maybe, and his feet were firmly on the ground. Or at least they were today. “Can you forward her the next time she calls?” She winked at him, then went back to her TV show. When he looked over her shoulder he saw it was CSPAN and smothered a smile. She always surprised him.

He poked his head into Rob’s office, saw it was empty. “He’s taking some time off, doll,” Karla hollered at him. “Someplace in California. Big mystery.” Huh. He’d worked for Rob for over a year and he’d never known the man to take time off. Cris walked in while he was still half in the boss’ office and gave him a great big hug. Surprised, he hugged her back. She wasn’t working for Rob anymore, had instead started work on a charity for veterans that had put the light back in her eyes. “Rob asked if I’d take the helm while he’s gone,” she told him and shrugged. “I figured why not. Nick is in Tulsa for the next two weeks with OSBI trainees and I wanted some action.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and he laughed in response. The phone rang in Karla’s cage and she picked it up, gave him a look that told him his mystery caller was on the line. He walked toward her, intending to take the call but she hung up, gave him a weird look. “She just wanted to know if you were here…” The outer door opened and Natalie walked in. Ethan drew in a breath and swore he could smell the lemon from her shampoo from here. She threw him a crooked smile that almost brought him to his knees, then walked toward him. “I believe we had a deal?” She handed him an envelope marked with his name. “I don’t understand,” he replied, and just kept looking at her, devouring every detail. Wanting to draw her into his arms for the longest kiss of his life. But he didn’t. He just stood there like a doofus until she nudged his hand. “Open it.” He shook his head, opened the envelope. Pulled out a cashier’s check for fifteen thousand dollars, signed by Greg Flynn. “Now I really don’t understand.”

“For services rendered,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “That first morning, when you said you’d get me and Petra to safety for fifteen large?” “Oh.” His stomach hit his shoes. She was here to pay a debt. Not because of anything else. “Well, thank you, then. Are you okay?” He couldn’t help the last bit, it just slipped out. He needed to know she was all right. “I’m unemployed and living in a RV. Which I happen to think is pretty fantastic,” she was smiling, and he was trying to make sense of the words. “Oh for God’s sake, Ethan, take her to coffee or something.” Cris’ voice was a welcome intrusion that snapped him out of his daze. He was pretty damned sure he was getting it now. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, ran his thumb across her cheekbone. “Or maybe we could go to a local place for lunch. Someplace that does it right. Fresh ingredients.” She leaned against his hand, a true smile curving her lips. “Locally sourced fresh ingredients, thank you very much.” She pressed a kiss into his palm, made his stomach contract with want, with need. With everything for this woman. “I think a place like that should be called The Fork,” he said, trying to sound wise and sage as he pulled her into his arms. Dropped a short, sweet kiss on her lips. Because they were in public, after all. “I think that’s an excellent suggestion,” she said, and drew him in for another, longer kiss, and the world just faded away.

THE END.

Thank You!

Thank you for reading Broken Wings! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book: 1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so she can discover me, too. 2. Help other people find this book by writing a review. 3. Sign up for my monthly newsletter at http://tlschaefer.com/newsletter/ , so you can find out about my next book as soon as it's available. 4. I love to connect with readers, talk about books (not just mine) and dish on the latest improvements we’re making on our 100+-year-old Colonial, weather in Oklahoma (ack!), the antics of our brood of cats, and just life in general. You can find me at:

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About the Author

By day, Terri Schaefer is a Public Affairs Officer for the Air Force. By night? That's a whole 'nother story. TL Schaefer writes mysteries/police procedurals that also have a romance twined throughout. And likely some stuff that goes bump in the night. And every once in a while, her books are spicy (so look for the heat levels). If you like your heroes in uniform (be they cops, firefighters, or military) and your heroines with a bit of quirk, then wing by her website www.tlschaefer.com or visit her Facebook group, Musings From the Blonde Side at https://www.facebook.com/groups/920052411730859 where she talks about books, cats and her very own romance hero.

Also by TL Schaefer… visit www.tlschaefer.com/all-books/

Red River Repossessions

Duck and Run Broken Wings Bad to the Bone (coming 2022)

The CASI Series

Behind Blue Eyes Crossfire (Book 1.5, free novella to newsletter subscribers) Shoot to Thrill Lunatic Fringe

The Mariposa Series

The Summerland The Brotherhood

The Paladin

The Fated Fae Series

Baptism by Fire Ends of the Earth Sea of Dreams Breath of Heaven

Stand Alone Titles

Something Witchy This Way Comes Redemption (coming September 2021)

Writing as Keira Ramsay

Into the Fire Blink of an Eye