Against the Rules (16 page)

“To the right about ten feet is a dog house. Crawl inside it. Make yourself small, I’m coming in too,” he whispered in her ear.

She flipped her purse over her shoulder and did as she’d been told.

This spy crap looks a lot more fun on the big screen
. The burrs on the ground were grinding their way into her wrists and forearms, making it difficult to keep going. Angry men, shouting and breaking things, urged her on. Once inside, she curled up tight to the side trying to make room for Reese’s larger body.

Half in and half out, Reese moved aside a board. He pulled her down to his level and whispered, “Go through. You’ll come out in the neighbor’s yard. Stay flat on the ground, near the perimeter of the fence and head toward the far side of the house.”

When she hesitated, Reese gave her a push. “Faster,” he ordered, blocking her body between his and the fence.

Chantel scooted and crawled faster, thankful that this yard had more grass and fewer burrs. Lights lit up the kitchen a few yards away. A couple and their young kids were eating dinner. It was wrong to possibly bring danger into their lives. She wanted to stop and go back, but Reese was there blocking her retreat. “Keep going.”

She wanted to tell him no, but the longer they stayed there, the more danger they were all in so she kept going. Halfway to the house on the far side, Reese stopped her and went alone. He peered between the bars of the wrought iron fence. He stayed at ground level and somehow worked the latch allowing the gate to swing forward enough to slide through. Long moments passed before he motioned her to him.

“One more house to go. Stay tight near the shrubs. They have a yip-yap dog so keep to the outside and be as quiet as possible. Once we get to the sidewalk, we’ll dip around the corner out of view. Move fast. If they have night goggles, we’re exposed. Go.”

His breath on her ear made her quiver inside. How could he turn her insides into goo when they were running for their lives? Her focus should be on getting away, not getting into bed. She noticed that he had a pistol in one hand and considered drawing hers, but she was having trouble crawling. Apparently it was a learned skill. As she neared a window, she heard growling and a bark. Instantly, she froze, not wanting to draw the dog’s attention.

A pissed off “Get moving” startled her into motion. The farther she went, she realized the dog was playing with someone inside. She wondered how many times Reese had traveled this route, preparing for danger. Chantel had been right all along. She was in over her head, but it had nothing to do with Reese’s seduction skills and everything to do with his commando abilities. She wasn’t cut out for this.

It took at least three years to cross in front of his neighbor’s house. Her pants were ruined, her wrists bloody and she was willing to acknowledge that being with him
was
dangerous. And exciting. Other than being in his bed, she’d never felt more alive.

* * * *

“Sir, have you heard from Ms. Donley?” He cringed.

“No. Report!” Donley barked.

“I’ve been monitoring her cell phone using GPS. Once it switched towers, I was immediately notified. It’s heading in the opposite direction from your home.”

“Can you pinpoint the location?”

“Yes, sir. I checked the address and it’s one of ours.” Sid gave him the exact location and waited. He couldn’t out and out ask his boss what was going on, but he was curious as hell. In the background, he heard the slapping of computer keys and a familiar grunt of frustration.

“Send in the nearest unit. Have her picked up and placed in protective custody.”

“Sir?”

“Have you forgotten how to follow orders, Sid?”

“No, sir.”

* * * *

Teague breathed a sigh of relief once they were inside the storage lot. It should be smooth sailing from here. He reached under the bumper and found the hidden key. Good ole American muscle. Pre-computer shit. No satellite navigation. No Big Brother shutting off the ignition or locking the doors at their whim. Just good old-fashioned horsepower and lots of it. The throaty exhaust rumble made his heart zing.

He looked over at Channy and felt oddly at peace. It made no sense. They were both running for their lives and yet he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have by his side. She brought him a deep down comfort he didn’t remember ever experiencing before.

Sirens were filling the area causing alarm bells to ring in his brain. “Did your father know you were coming to see me?” He made an effort to sound casual.

“No! He’d have had my head on a platter. Why do you ask?”

“I’m wondering how they keep tracking me down,” he answered, taking off the kid gloves. She had to know what they were up against.

“Who is ‘they’, Reese?” she asked, looking out of the back window of the car.

Teague shoved her head down below the top of the seat. “The less you know the better, Channy.”

“Why on earth do you think my dad would give anyone information about you?” She stared at him, clearly surprised. “You’re crazy.”

“Probably,” he muttered, as he drove down a side street bringing the front of his house into view. He pointed to the cars lining the street in front of his house. “Unless I miss my guess, those plain Jane cars with the lights in the grill belong to your father’s men. How would they know to come running just minutes after I get ambushed? I didn’t call them. Did you?”

She shook her head. “Maybe they were tracking my car. I didn’t think about that. But what does it matter? We need the help.”

“Somebody set me up. Again.” He looked at her pointedly. “If it wasn’t your father, it was someone in his camp. I did a bit of checking. He’s been the regional chief in every location they’ve moved me to. Every one of my handlers, in three different states, answered to him. The safeguards surrounding my identity hinged on the Chief of Staff limiting access. My identity and location should have been buried behind so many red flags no one could find information on me. I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“I don’t know.” She looked confused. “Obviously, if a neighbor had noticed something off, they would have called the police. But my dad isn’t the one tipping them off. That’s just crazy.”

“We’re being followed. Channy, if you’re in on this, tell me now,” he warned her. He couldn’t find it in himself to believe that she would betray him, but he wouldn’t put it past Donley to use her in some way, to tell her one thing while he was planning something else.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My dad was probably monitoring the GPS in my car. I should have thought about that before I came over.”

“You’ve gotta be carrying a tracking device. No one could know this car and no one saw us get away.”

He rolled down the window. “Give me your purse,” he ordered.

“So you can throw it out the window? No way.”

“Don’t fucking argue with me, Channy. These guys play for keeps.” As if on cue, a dark-colored sedan pulled up beside them and opened fire, spraying bullets at the tires. Teague pitched the car toward them, ruining their shot. Thhe sedan bounced a curb and was forced to slow.

Teague dragged her head back into his lap and searched the floorboard for her purse. With the sedan maneuvering for another shot, he hopped the median and nailed the gas. Whipping the ass-end around, they sped off in the opposite direction.

“Use two hands, you’re gonna get us killed.” She reached down and grabbed her purse. After she had pulled out her pistol and wallet she tossed it into his lap.

He immediately threw it out of the window, cut the wheel and darted across three lanes of traffic then down another side street. “Where’s your cell phone?”

“Ahh, crap, it was in my purse.”

Ahh, crap? We’re being shot at and the worse expletive she could come up with is
Ahh, crap
? He was going to burn in hell for getting her mixed up in this situation. “Keep your head down. I think I’ve lost them, but we’ll ditch this car just to be sure.” He made his way across town to another storage lot with his other emergency car. If only he could stash her someplace safe, he’d have a little talk with Donley. What was the man thinking risking his own daughter? It made Teague mad enough to see blood. Preferably Donley’s.

* * * *

“Sir, we have a problem.” Sid held the phone away from his ear, grateful that they weren’t face to face.

“Spill it, Sid, I’m not in the mood for cat and mouse.”

He took a quick breath and began his report. “When the unit responded to Ms. Donley’s location, they found five armed assailants tossing the house. Ms. Donley, or, more accurately, her cell phone, was moving slowly westward. Agents called for backup, cordoned off the area and engaged the assailants.”

“My daughter, Sid, where’s my daughter and what’s her condition?”

“We’re not sure, sir. I tracked her cell phone for approximately eight miles. I relayed the ending location to an agent. They retrieved a purse, presumably hers, from the middle of an intersection. The cell phone was destroyed, presumably from the fall it took.”

“She carries a Sig forty-five. Was it retrieved?”

“No, sir. Her wallet was also missing.”

“Find her, Sid. I don’t care what it takes or what resources you need. Find her.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered automatically to the dial tone.

* * * *

Chantel had been going over what little Reese had told her. She had no idea who was chasing them. The NBIA was involved, but how and to what extent? Who were the bad guys? No way was her father dirty. It blew her mind that he could even think that. “What’s your real name?”

He scanned her face looking for something—what, she wasn’t sure. Did he trust her? She hadn’t given him any reason to.

“Me first. How long did you live in Georgia?”

Had she told him that they’d lived there? She couldn’t remember. “About a year and a half. Were you in Georgia too?”

“For about a year.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “They used a redhead to set me up that time.”

She knew where he was going with this. “I’m not setting you up.” It was on the tip of her tongue to accuse him of being paranoid, but if someone really was out to get him, it wasn’t really paranoia. “My dad might’ve tracked my car through GPS. It had to be a coincidence that they showed up when the others did.” He obviously didn’t believe her. “I hadn’t considered that when I decided to go to your house. I don’t understand what happened. I got the impression you were working with my dad. Why would they break in?”

“You should’ve stayed the hell away from me. Damn it, Channy, you’re gonna get yourself killed or worse.”

She chuckled nervously. “In my world, it doesn’t get much worse than dead.”

“I hope you live a long, naive life and can go to your grave still believing that.”

They rode in silence for several miles. The adrenaline was wearing off. She wanted to keep him talking. He was distant, not much like the man she’d fallen for only a week ago. Worry lines creased his brow. His left hand never left the steering wheel. His handsome eyes were haunted and ever moving. This man twisted her heart into a painful knot. “What happened in Georgia?”

“Believe me, darlin’, you don’t want to know.”

He’d accused her of being naive and maybe she was.

“How long were you in Texas?”

She looked at him carefully. He was fishing. He knew little bits and pieces and wanted her to fill in the blanks. He didn’t trust her, but how could he? His life was hidden in a thick fog of carefully constructed lies. Trust would have to be built slowly, one stone at a time. “I never lived in Texas. When my dad was transferred, I opted to stay in Georgia and finish my degree. I followed them to New Mexico when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. They didn’t think she would make it long. Turns out they were right.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Channy.” He needed to stash Channy somewhere safe, but where? Her father was in the shit. He hoped, for Channy’s sake, he wasn’t personally involved. No matter how guilty Donley appeared, Teague couldn’t believe that he was the Weasel. Everything sure looked that way, though, and that begged the question, was he being framed? The idea of turning her over to anyone tightened his gut.

While Teague couldn’t wrap his head around Donley being the Weasel, he didn’t have the same problem when he considered that Donley could be the leak ratting him out at every turn.

“How did you get involved with the NBIA?”

Either she was involved or she wasn’t. If she was, she already knew about his past, and if she wasn’t, telling her wouldn’t matter. “It started in Georgia right after I graduated college. I landed a great job. My whole future lay ahead of me until I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.” He shook his head, getting pissed off all over again. “Forget it, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“What’s your real name?” she asked softly.

“Teague Brodie.” It felt good to tell the truth.

“Was or is Teague Brodie married?”

They were running for their lives and she was asking about his marital status. He’d never understand women. “No, darlin’. No wife, girlfriend or kids.” At least he hadn’t sunk that far.

“Are you really a southern boy, Teague, or was that part of your cover?”

The teasing sound of her voice thickened his cock and irritated him. This was not the time to get distracted.

“Born and raised in southern Louisiana. You don’t get more southern than that, ma’am.” His twang was thicker. Words spoken slower in respect for the laid-back attitude he dearly missed.

“You’re lucky. We’ve moved my whole life. I don’t really have a hometown or a single place I’d call home. When I was a kid, I hated it. I’d make friends and we’d move. Though looking back on it, it wasn’t so bad. I got to meet a lot of people. See a lot of places.”

“Where all have you lived?” He wasn’t used to answering questions. It was far easier to ask them.

“I was born in DC. From there we moved to Maryland. I don’t remember much of that, I was too young. We spent almost four years in New York. I guess I’d call that my home. I went to school there, made good friends. But it didn’t last long. From there we went to Georgia. We even spent some time in New Mexico. I liked it there. It’s rich, southwestern history was so different from New York. Most recently, we lived in California.”