Transference (5 page)

Belatedly, he wondered if Allison was the type of woman who would feel the need to spill her guts to assuage her guilt. That could be a problem. A big problem.

Adam Barrows would surely forgive her for anything since he'd made stupid rookie mistake after stupid rookie mistake while on the run because of that woman, nearly getting himself and his brother captured countless times. But the brother wouldn't share his feelings. While Adam may be little more than a model citizen turned vigilante after his brother's arrest, Eli Barrows deserved every minute of the sentence he'd received.

Granted, Eli hadn't killed the man Brad's office had framed him for killing, but the government didn't pick men of honor when they needed a fall guy to satisfy the media's curiosity. Whether Allison, or even Adam for that matter, had any idea about Eli's true criminal past, Brad couldn't say. What he could say with certainty was that he would never abide last night's indiscretion if Allison decided she needed to bare her soul before Brad could get out of there with the money.

Even then, Eli would still probably be out for blood.

If he weren't already dead, Brad could've killed his former partner for getting him into this mess in the first place. He'd sworn up and down that he'd vetted Eli Barrows thoroughly and that not even his son would blink an eye over the murder arrest, which was partly true. The kid hadn't cared. The estranged brother had thrown an epic temper tantrum, exhausting all legal options before finding an old associate of his brother's with ties to a burned spy who was all too happy to screw up a government black op.

Brad glanced over at the bed when Allison's breathing subtly changed. It had been too much to hope that she'd sleep right up until it was time to go. At least she'd slept long enough that they wouldn't have to spend the entire day making small talk at the scene of their many crimes.

* * *

Wakefulness came slowly to Allison. She clung onto those last delicious vestiges of sated drowsiness until the very effort it took to hold on drove them away. Stretching her arms up over her head, she began to roll over and then stopped, her body heavy with dread.

Oh God. She'd fucked Markenson last night. Several times.

And worse still, it had been good.

Damn good.

As with any high, the more intense the pleasure, the more regret she experienced. Allison didn't think she could face that smug look on his face, reminding her of how wrong what she'd done truly was. Of course, that wasn't all it would remind her of. She'd also be faced with the fact that, as with all the best highs, she was already craving another hit.

But as much as she wanted him again, she couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't. Not again. She had to find a way to get out of bed and put something on. Once she was dressed she knew it would be easier to face him; easier to pretend she hadn't just spent the better part of the night...

The sound of rustling paper captured her attention. Surreptitiously, she peered over her shoulder, discovering his side of the bed cold and empty. That was good. Maybe that meant he wouldn't press her for a repeat.

Wait, why didn't he want her again? He was a man and a monster. No moral dilemmas allowed.

Allison caught sight of her robe on the bed and slid into it while sitting up. Brad was sitting at the table with his back to her, studying what appeared to be a map. Without a word, she moved from the bed to the bathroom, locking the door – just in case – and tried to shower away her guilt. Of course, it was a difficult thing to do after last night.

Would she ever look at a shower the same way again after that?

* * *

Brad breathed a sigh of relief when Allison left the room. Though he'd thought she wouldn't want to talk, there was always the chance he'd misread the situation. And an awkward morning after conversation was not something he felt like having. Truly, he just wanted to get her to Costa Rica and get the hell out of there without having to think about what he'd done.

Even if it was all he could think about.

In fact, it didn't seem to matter how long he stared at the map, the lines just swam in front of his eyes. He had to clear it from his mind; didn't understand why he couldn't. It had to be the room. That was it. Any room that still faintly smelled of sex was bound to cause distractions.

The water stopped a few minutes before the door finally opened. It was all he could do not to turn and look when she returned to the room. It was all over if she was in a towel again so he kept his gaze firmly locked on the map, pretending to work out the next leg of their escape route. Thankfully, when she came to sit at the table across from him, she was fully clothed.

Hair was still wet though.

"What are you doing?"

He glanced up at her, noting the cautious look in her eyes as she regarded him. "Figuring out the last place they'd think to look for us next."

"Oh. Uh...how much longer until we leave?"
 

"Sunset. We need to start traveling at night and sleeping during the day."

"Why?" She made a point of keeping her eyes on the map.

"Cover more ground. Less chance of being noticed."

"How much longer until sunset?"

"A few hours yet." An unconscious grin spread over his face. "You have sixteen left."

Allison's eyes snapped up to meet his. "Sixteen?"

"That's how many you have left if we're playing Twenty Questions." He glanced at his wristwatch. "Food should be here in a few minutes, if you're hungry."

She nodded. "Thanks. I, uh..."

Rather than let them slip into the uncomfortable silence that would have followed her words when they trailed off, he said, "If you don't mind, I need to focus on this so we can get out of here soon."

* * *

"Yeah. No problem."
 

Allison hastily stood up and returned to the bed, sitting cross-legged. She flipped on the television and clicked through the various channels. It didn't matter that nothing was on. She wasn't really paying attention to anything anyway and let the television play a news story about a kitten in a tree or something to that effect.

"
...and in other news, Vice President Stafford is reported to be in good health after her most recent trip to the doctor. This comes just weeks after a disgruntled former Secret Service agent broke into her family home in...
"

"Turn it off!"

Allison jumped at Brad's sharp words, but didn't change the channel. "I'm watching this."

He rose quickly, stalked over to the bed and ripped the remote out of her hand, turning off the television an instant before throwing the remote across the room. "Get this straight, Waverly. I do
not
want to hear about that woman. Got it?"

The fire blazing through his eyes both excited and terrified her. "Got it." After a beat, she asked in a softer voice, "What did she do to you?"

"That bitch ruined my life." His eyes went cold. "Drop it."

"Okay." Allison watched him calmly sit back down at the table and return to his map. "I'll, uh, just make sure everything is packed and ready."
 

At least now they had a new topic to avoid. Not that it helped. One taboo topic made her burn with curiosity at Brad's sudden loss of control.

And the other left her burning with desire over last night's loss of control.

CHAPTER 7

BRAD WAS FOCUSED on the road, just as he had been for hours now. He'd spoken primarily in sentences consisting of only a word or two to get her into the car and they'd been in silence since. Luckily, there wasn't a lot of light on the road they traveled so Allison didn't have to worry about getting caught when she snuck sidelong glances at him. But every so often the moon would peek-a-boo its way out from behind the summer clouds and she would catch a glimpse of him in profile.

And the itch of addiction would return.

There was something different about him in the dark, Allison realized, turning to stare blindly out her window. Earlier, when she'd first gotten out of bed, Brad had been clean-shaven. But now...now he had stubble working across his jaw – just like he had when they'd...when he'd...

As though it was happening all over again, Allison's skin was on fire in all the places the stubble had scraped against her – and it had been many places. The feeling of rough jaw and smooth lips had been an amazing cacophony of sensation. Without that working for him, she could almost trick herself into believing that the killer beside her wasn't the same man who'd labored inside her for most of the previous night.

Allison sucked in a sharp breath as the memories of the night flooded unwanted through her mind.

"You okay over there?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at his interruption of the tense silence. "What? Yeah. Why?" She let out a shaky breath, feeling his eyes on her and refusing to meet his gaze. "Huh?"

"You were breathing funny."

"I'm fine," she answered a touch too quickly even to her own ears. To cover, she added, "Uh...where are we now?"

"Iowa."

Great. He was in another one of his quiet moods when she needed something other than her own thoughts to occupy her time. The things on her mind were dangerous. "How far are we trying to get before dawn?"

Brad was silent as he maneuvered the car onto the side of the road and put it into park. In the darkness, he turned to Allison. "You already know we're zigzagging our way across the country so it doesn't matter how far we travel." He worked the muscle in his jaw. "Why don't you just say whatever it is on your mind and get it over with?"

Allison turned away from him. "I don't have anything on my mind." Not that she was prepared to share, anyway. "Let's just get back on the road, okay?"

"No. Not okay." When she didn't look back at him, he squeezed her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. "These next few weeks will go by a lot faster if you cut out the silent routine."

She swatted his hand away. "You're one to talk. You've barely said a word since you flipped out over the news story about Stafford."

"I didn't flip out." He eased the car back onto the road. "I just didn't want to hear about it." When Allison didn't respond, he added, "I really don't see what's so difficult about conversation. You used to talk my ear off when you thought I was gay."

"That wasn't why."

"Oh?"

"I didn't know you were evil yet."

Of all the responses he could have, he laughed.

"What?" she demanded.

"I'm not apologizing for doing my job if that's what you're fishing for."

"And I'm not apologizing for making you look like an ass when you couldn't catch me."

"Just as well. I was getting tired of the Secret Service anyway."

Allison hesitated. "Brad?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you the unnamed former Secret Service agent who broke into Vice President Stafford's house?"

"Maybe."

It was time for Allison to ask the question that had been burning through her mind since her extraction. Well, one of the many questions she had. "Why are you helping me?"

"For a million-dollar payday."

"No, I know that. I mean, why did you switch sides so completely? I don't understand why you're working for the people you were chasing a month ago. And how does breaking into the vice president's house fit into it?"

He sighed but didn't say anything right away, clearly weighing how much to tell her.
 
"I'd been on Stafford's protection detail since the very beginning. When she needed an agent around who wouldn't ask questions and didn't mind looking the other way, I was the go-to guy. As far as politicians go, she wasn't as shady as some I'd protected, so it wasn't all that bad of a post." He spared a glance in Allison's direction. "Until she called me to the residence in the middle of the night when I was off duty."

"Vice-presidential booty call?"

"Hardly. Her marriage may just be for show, but she prefers blonde call girls. Younger the better."

"No she doesn't."

"I think the guy standing outside the door would know."

"I guess, but she had a thing with my father for years."

His hands visibly tightened on the wheel. "Not after she got the VP nod, she didn't."

"No. They just ended it a few years ago. The governor was giving him a hard time about what business he always seemed to have in D.C."

"Wait." The car came to a sudden stop in the middle of the deserted road. "You're actually serious about this."

The pain in his eyes confused her. "Um...I'm starting to wish I hadn't said anything. I don't see the big deal."

He shook his head and refocused on the road, bringing the car slowly back to life. "That explains so much in retrospect. She had another go-to guy the whole time. Bitch set me up from the beginning."

"Who? My father?"

"This isn't a love story, princess. I'm talking about whichever agent was on duty when they were together."

"Oh." So he was that upset about not being the top agent? "So, the booty call that wasn't?"

He chuckled. "Long story short, she gives me the song and dance about being her best guy and wanting to transfer me out because there was no one else she could trust to oversee an off-the-books op she was coordinating with her intelligence cronies."

"The thing with Eli?"

"Not at first, but that was the end result."

"And you left the Secret Service because...?"

"I failed to contain the situation after Barrows escaped. My op went bad, so it was my ass. And when an op that big goes sideways, everyone involved gets dead."

"You've been on the run too?"

"Yeah. Stafford always played things close to the vest, so I thought she might have something incriminating stashed at the residence." He shook his head slightly. "She didn't."

"And that's when it seemed like a good idea to assault her?"

Brad turned his full attention to her without slowing the vehicle. "No. That was an accident. It was dark and I thought it was someone on her security detail coming in." He turned back to the road. "But I'm glad the broken nose ruined all her photo ops for the next week."