Dangerous to Know (18 page)

“Waddle a little, you're pregnant.”

She jumped when Greer's voice hit her. A moment later, the rambling began again. All around her, the city was moving. It felt surreal and yet her heart was racing. She fought the urge to look around, trying to spot … well … something.

All she ended up doing was admitting how little she knew about shadow games. The admission left her feeling exposed, like a sitting duck. Okay, duckling. One that didn't know how to identify the dangers around her.

A cab slid up to the curb in front of her as she waited to cross the next street.

“Get in,” Greer muttered behind her.

She lifted the handle and slid into the front seat. Mercer pulled the car around the corner, heading back down the way she'd just walked.

The hours passed by in a haze of wigs, clothing changes, and vehicles. By the time she ended up in a car that headed onto an interstate, she was mentally whipped.

“Hopefully that will keep anyone tailing us off our asses,” Mercer said at last.

He meant it as good news. The only problem was, it left her relying on him.

*   *   *

Mercer drove out of the city and up into the mountains. They changed cars twice before leaving civilization behind. The twinkling lights of the city were the only reminder that there were any other souls on earth. The road became winding, the sun set, and Mercer kept going. At least the last car came with an ice chest. Zoe happily dug out sandwiches and chips. She peeled back the wrapping and handed one over to Mercer.

“I could take a turn driving,” she suggested out of a desire to be congenial.

He took the sandwich and shook his head. It was an immediate response and one that drove home his lack of trust in her.

It shouldn't have stung.

She focused on the tingle of suspicion teasing her nape while she chewed on the sandwich. Time passed, her belly satisfied but her mind full.

“Home, sweet home,” Mercer announced at last. He pulled off the road and onto a small access road that might be called a driveway. But only if one was being generous. It wasn't well maintained. The trees lining it had branches that stuck out into the road. Mercer had to slow down as they brushed against the sides of the car.

“Don't look so worried, Zoe. We're not roughing it completely.”

“I'm pretty sure even if a five-star lodge appears in front of us, I'm still going to be worried. Life's been a tad complicated since you showed up.”

He chuckled beside her, his attention still on the road. “Nice to know you need me, baby.”

“Don't call me that.” The words were out of her mouth before she thought about what she was going to say. She bit her lip because she didn't like him knowing he'd struck a tender chord. She had precious few things left to her at that moment and felt like she needed to defend herself.

Mercer cut her a glance, one that set her heart beating faster. There was a promise brewing in his gaze. “I'm sticking my neck out for you, Zoe.”

He sounded sincere and she hated it.

“Yeah? Well, maybe you and your team are just setting me up again. Maybe that whole sniper attack was just a clever way of driving me back into trusting you again because you came so gallantly to my rescue.”

He surprised her by flashing her a grin. “Not bad, Zoe. Even Saxon would appreciate that angle of thinking.”

“Because it's ice-cold?” she asked.

Mercer nodded and turned the car onto another narrow access road that she would never have seen in the dark.

“Saxon keeps his mind on the operation. Maybe you're pissed at the moment, but recognize the service he's doing for men like your brother and father. Even if you're innocent, someone is guilty. Saxon intends to catch them. People like that don't play by the rules and they aren't nice. You have to think like them. Act like them to box them in.”

Her anger died in a sizzle of harsh reality. The kind that would manifest into gratitude for people who were willing to keep her from becoming the recipient of folded flags at the graveside of her loved ones.

“Guess I'll have to upgrade your boss's title from ‘Asshole' to ‘Hardass,'” she conceded.

“He'll be touched. Good timing, though, he's taking care of Harley.”

“That better not involve a bottle of barbecue sauce and a basting brush,” she warned him.

Mercer snickered. “I'm not saying Saxon wouldn't be above showing the bottle to Harley. Maybe even uncapping it and sniffing it—”

“You are talking about my baby brother,” she said indignantly.

Mercer slid her a disbelieving look. Zoe folded her arms across her chest. “My dad has me make a hatch-day cake for Harley. Make. Not buy. We're talking family member status. When this is all cleared up, if that bird even looks stressed out, my dad is going to make someone pay. In a very creative fashion, mark my words.”

Mercer lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Just remember, I told Saxon to go pick Harley up from animal control.”

“He was at the shelter?” Zoe gasped. “My dad will flip.”

“It will be worth suffering his wrath, just because we're alive to see it.”

Tension renewed its grip on her. But there was a lingering glow inside her that refused to be banished. He couldn't be all bad if he'd told his boss to get Harley. He just couldn't be. But she had no idea what to do with that bit of knowledge.

Some sort of structure came into view. Mercer pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it. A door slid open in front of them, making her realize that the “unkempt” road was actually left that way on purpose. There wasn't a single branch in the way of the sliding door.

Mercer drove inside and the door slid shut behind them. Just like Vitus's garage, the inside was immaculate. She got out as Mercer killed the engine. There were tools and camouflage clothing hanging from hooks on the wall. Boots were neatly lined up by the back door with two backpacks hanging above them, looking full. A pair of dirt bikes were there, off-road tires on them, and helmets hanging from the handlebars.

“Bug-out gear,” Mercer explained. “Last resort.”

He opened a door that led to a covered walkway. Ten feet away was a cabin. There was only the moonlight to see it by. It had an A-frame roof with twin brick chimneys on either side. Mercer clicked the remote again and the door clicked. He reached out and opened the door for her.

“Sorry, no Internet.”

Zoe couldn't stop a smile from lifting her lips. The exhaustion that had been threatening to break her for the last couple of hours seemed worth it now. She hadn't realized how exposed she felt. Having solid walls around her drove it home, though.

“Peace and quiet seems … perfect,” she said. “Um … thanks.”

Their gazes met for a moment. His eyes had dark shadows under them, telling her how tired he was. She ended up offering him a tentative smile in gratitude. His lips curved in response a second before she lost her nerve and looked around the cabin to avoid dealing with her personal feelings.

There was a small living room with a sofa in front of the fireplace. But set inside the brick opening was an electric furnace.

“No smoke,” Mercer explained. “As far as anyone else is concerned, no one's home unless we want them to know we're home.” He jerked his thumb toward the windows. There were boards in them, like something out of the Blitz. She moved closer to look at the construction. It was an actual box, like a window in a storefront. The curtains were hung in front but the wood came out to ensure that not even a tiny crack of light made it through to the outside world.

On the other side of the doorway was a kitchen.

“There're some amenities.” Mercer opened the dated refrigerator and scanned the contents. “The bathroom should have hot water and something else for you to wear.”

Zoe was already heading through the tiny living room. A door opened into a bedroom that had honest-to-goodness harvest-gold shag carpet in it. A dresser sat there looking like something Lucy Ricardo might have owned. But Zoe was far more interested in what sort of clothing it might yield. She pulled on the brass knob and was rewarded with a selection of jeans. Another drawer had tops; there was even clean underwear and flannel pajamas.

Bliss.

Or at least it would be once she got a hot shower. The bathroom kept to the theme of the rest of the cabin. It was like a time capsule back to 1972. Honestly, the lack of cable suited the overall effect. She stopped to fiddle with what looked like an old radio. Upon closer inspection, she found an iPod connected to the back of it.

A little tingle touched her neck again. She was way out of her league. Mercer was playing for keeps. She was going to end up with a crushed heart if she couldn't keep that fact in the front of her mind.

Except that there were times when he just touched something inside her. Like telling his boss to get Harley. She snorted as she pictured Saxon's face during that conversation.

Yeah, there was something about Mercer. Something she was flat-out chicken to put a name on.

She selected one of the playlists at random, the silence of the cabin grating on her nerves. The shower might have been made out of small squares of faded blue tile, but the water was hot. The application of shampoo and soap did wonders for her outlook on life. By the time she made it out of the tiny bathroom, the scent of dinner was drifting into the room.

The mountain air made her wet hair cold. She put on some layers before opening the bedroom door. The kitchen table was set.

She paused in the doorway.

“There's no mouthy waitress.” Mercer tempted her from where he was stirring something on the stovetop.

“Just you.”

Zoe wasn't sure if she was saying it for him or herself, but her options were limited. She slid into a chair and watched as he dished up whatever he'd been stirring.

“Beef stew and crusty bread,” he announced before setting a bowl in front of her.

“Thanks.”

He'd done the job right. The stew was steaming hot. They ate in silence, watching each other. Zoe realized that they had more in common in that moment than either of them wished to admit.

“What?” Mercer questioned.

She shrugged. “Just noticing how alike we are in distrusting each other.”

Amusement flickered in his dark eyes for a moment. She got up and took their dishes to the sink. “Your turn for a shower.”

She felt him watching her. Would have sworn there was a shift in the air, a rise in temperature as his gaze touched her.

Nitwit … focus
.
He's on a mission.

Roni might have a few choice words about seizing the moment, but it felt like such a big risk.

Chicken.

Yeah, well, guilty as charged.

It was time to start playing it safe. Her walk on the wild side had left her with enough gouges to last her for quite some time.

*   *   *

Mercer waited until Zoe was asleep.

He listened to her breathing slow and deepen. She'd twisted a quilt around herself and rolled over onto her side. She looked so damn innocent.

He had to at least doubt her.

His life just might depend on it.

But that didn't stop him from feeling like he needed to focus more on protecting her.

His thoughts didn't make much sense but at least he could do something about defending them both. Or making sure their gear was secure. He made his way back into the garage, to where the bug-out gear was stored. He turned on a workshop light as he began to pull apart the packs, stripping them down completely.

Bug-out gear wasn't much good if there was a tracking device anywhere on it.

He worked for another couple of hours, using a scanner to check both of the bikes completely. When he made it back to the cabin, satisfaction settled on him for the first time.

True satisfaction.

He stretched out on the sofa, watching Zoe through the open doorway of the bedroom.

He could smell her.

The knowledge was a bit unsettling. He wasn't exactly inexperienced with sex, but this was something different. It was deeper. More tangible. Little details were more prominent, more memorable.

It was as if there was a connection between them, one he wanted to savor, hold close, and never let go of.

She stirred on the bed, drawing him back up to a sitting position. There was a tiny amount of light spilling out from the bathroom night-light. It was just enough for him to see the frown on her face and the way her jaw was clenched.

He was on his feet before he knew where he was going, crossing into the bedroom as she let out a whimper. The little sound was his undoing. There was no further thinking, only reaction.

He reached for her.

*   *   *

Pop.

Pop … pop …

How could such a soft sound be so terrifying?

Zoe strained against what was holding her down but she was trapped. She struggled, fighting as she felt the burning path of the bullet cutting its way across her flesh.

Pop …

She needed to run.

Escape.

The idea was pounding through her. Reenergizing her need to fight. She withered against the force holding her down, calling on all of her strength to break free.

“Zoe … wake up.”

She opened her eyes with a gasp, swinging at the dark form leaning over her. There was the solid connection of flesh against flesh before pain snaked up her arm from the collision.

“Crap,” she growled.

Mercer grunted, capturing her wrist. “You're dreaming, baby.”

She blinked, feeling the nightmare lose its hold on her brain. It dissipated until it was just a lingering scent in the back of her mind.

“More like nightmare.” She was suddenly grateful for the darkness, because her eyes stung with unshed tears. It was a good thing she was lying down, because her body was shaking. She'd tried to sound flippant, or at least mildly sarcastic, but her voice had failed her, betraying her crumbling composure. Deep in slumber, her mind had dropped all its defenses, leaving her at the mercy of her emotions. She was so completely done.