Dead Running (15 page)

His arms were covered with tattoos. His sculpted face had a decidedly rough edge to it. The only thing that looked trustworthy about this man? His eyes. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Jesse sighed. He dropped his hand. I leaned towards him, wishing for another touch. “Please be careful,” he said, before walking away.

I studied his broad back until he disappeared around the aisle, wondering what he had against Damon. Damon was new to the area and traveled for work. He claimed not many people even knew him. Was Jesse just being jealous or was there truly something about Damon that deserved the warning? The jealousy card made me angry. Jesse had opportunities to ask me out, but always walked away. I shivered, trying to decide what unsettled me morehis touch or his warning.

*
         
*
         
*

Damon glanced up from his menu. “How’d your run go this morning?”

“Fine.” I didn’t elaborate on my nine-minute per mile pace or tell him I’d spent the entire twelve miles checking the horizon for Muscle Man. By the time I finished the run my head pounded so hard I had to take a nap and Excedrin to combat it. Focusing on Chili’s menu, I debated whether to order fajitas or quesadillas.

I looked up. Damon stared at me. Had he been watching me the entire time? Something about that stare was unnerving. Jesse’s warning flashed in my head before I could shoo it away.

“Bet you missed running with me,” he said.
           
I smiled. “No, I miss Joe and Trevor.”

“They’re loads of fun, but I’d rather be with you.” His grin turned down. “Why won’t you run with me? I just like being with you.”

I pumped my eyebrows. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“I’m not concerned about pace on distance runs.”

I toyed with the straw in my water glass then took a short drink. “You would be if you saw what my pace really is.” Damon wasn’t dangerous; he was more concerned about running and being with me than anything else. Jesse must just be jealous. A thrill shot through me. Could I make Jesse jealous enough to touch me again?

Damon reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “As competitive as you are, I think you’d keep up.”

I exhaled slowly. “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, I’m not a masochist?”

Releasing my hand, Damon straightened. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe I don’t want to kill myself trying to keep up with you and worrying about slowing you down.”
           
His mouth formed an O. “I thought you were going to qualify for Boston.”

I searched for the appropriate response that wouldn’t ruin my free dinner.

“He actually exists.”
           
I heard the voice behind me, but didn’t want to believe it could really be him. Pivoting slowly, I confirmed it. “Hey, Jared.” My brother looked so much like my dad: dark-blond hair, hazel eyes, fair skin, and lanky build. I’d loved my dad so much the similarities almost convinced me to forgive Jared for being such a punk. I gave my sister-in-law a smile. “You look pretty, El.”

Raquel beamed back at me, twirling a beautiful wrap between her fingers, her stomach outlined by a fitted, black shirt. “It’s the pregnancy glow.”

Damon stood and smiled at Raquel. “There is nothing more attractive than a woman expecting a baby.”

She blushed and grinned. “Well, thank you.”

Jared grunted. “Oh, great, a kiss-up.”

Tilting her head towards my brother, Raquel said, “Damon, this is my husband, Jared.”

Jared shook Damon’s hand begrudgingly. “Nice to meet you.” He released his hand and glared at me. “You’re dating a smooth talker.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be such a jerk-wad, big brother.”

Damon clapped Jared on the shoulder. “You’ve got a beautiful wife and sister. That should be a compliment to you.”

Jared grinned. “Seriously. I must be doing something right.”

“Join us?” Damon gestured towards the two empty seats.

Raquel glanced at me, communicating with eyes and eyebrows. I nodded my head that it was okay, though I dreaded what my brother might reveal.
Farewell to another goodnight kiss.
 

Jared pulled out a chair for Raquel. “Thanks. I’d love the chance to get to know the man that Cassie can’t stop talking about.”

I whirled to confront Raquel. “I haven’t said one word to
Jared
about Damon.”

She elevated her shoulders. “You tell me everything at your own risk. You know I can’t keep anything from him.”

Jared pulled her to him and kissed her quickly. “That’s right. My wife loves me too much to not share the juicy Cassie gossip.”

Leaning back in my chair, I folded my arms across my chest and sent my flowing sweater off one shoulder. I straightened it and said, “You two must have awfully boring conversations because there rarely is any ‘Cassie gossip.’”

Jared clucked his tongue. “Keep telling yourself that.” He swiped my menu. “I might as well look at this since I know you’re getting a salad.”

I wrenched the menu from his hands. “For your information, I am planning to order the quesadillas.”

Jared gasped like a woman and put his fingers to his lips. “Don’t do it, sis. All that cheese. It’ll never come off your waistline.”

I shoved the menu back at him. “Shut up and figure out what you want before the waitress comes. I’m hungry.”

Jared winked at Raquel and studied his menu. Damon offered his menu to Raquel, leaned close to me, and whispered, “I suddenly understand where the sarcasm comes from.”

My lower lip protruded. “I don’t act like him.” I pointed at my oblivious brother, discussing the Chili’s menu with his wife.

Damon’s lips brushed my ear, making it extremely hard to take the offense I deserved. “You
are
much more attractive.”

“What does that mean?”

“Putting aside your superior beauty, you can definitely tell you’re siblings.”

I pulled back, grateful to see the waitress approaching. This dinner was not turning out anything like I’d hoped.

Jared did everything in his power to embarrass me in front of Damon. I don’t know why I was surprised; he’d been perfecting his scare-away-Cassie’s-dates tactics since high school. I thought when the food arrived he would stop, but it seemed he was just warming up. “The whole family is so glad Cassie turned out. I mean, you should’ve seen her at twelve. Nana almost disowned her.”

“Jared,” I warned. “I’ll tell Nana you were the one who set her shed on fire.”

“She had braces, a headgear, glasses, and then my mom permed her hair.” He whistled, ignoring my warning and swirling his hands around his head to demonstrate how big my hair had been. “Scary. At least she looked good as a witch on Halloween.”

Damon covered my hand with his. “Well, it all worked out well.” He winked and I felt a bit better.

“Then there was the time she climbed on top of the school dressed in a bunny suit and”

“Jared,” I yelled, drawing stares from everyone seated close to us. “Well, at least I didn’t blow up the post office box with a dry ice bomb.”

Damon’s eyebrows shot up. He stared at me. “Dry ice bomb? And what were you going to do in the bunny suit?”
           
I squirmed, my flesh matching the inside of a watermelon.

Jared just laughed. “That was a good bomb, wasn’t it?”

“Do you want me to shut him up?” Raquel asked me.

“El, I know he loves you.” I rolled my eyes at my brother. “But I don’t think anybody can shut him up.”

Jared stared at Raquel with that fawnlike admiration I’ve always envied. Just once, I’d like a man to look at me like that. “Was I being rude to Cassie?”

The way Jared asked just reaffirmed what my brother was trying to accomplish; he didn’t want to hurt me, he just wanted to scare away Damon. I just wish I understood why he acted like this. I was 25 years old. Overprotective was getting old.

“Yes, my love. Shut up and eat.”

He grinned, kissed her, and dove into his steak fajitas. I sighed with relief and tried to enjoy my quesadillas.

We were almost through eating when Jared dropped the worst bombshell of the night. “So, Damon, what do you think of Cassie’s idea?”

Damon set his fork down and eyed my brother. “What idea is that?”

“Getting back into personal training.” Jared smiled at me. “Tell him about it, sis.”

I ducked my head, pushing around a piece of lettuce with the tip of my fork. “I, um, want to start using my degree again.” I took a deep breath and tilted my chin. The warm look in Damon’s eyes encouraged me. “I’ve worked out a lease agreement with a local gym to train clients in small groups so I can charge them less and still give individual attention. I’ll combine cardiovascular and strength training for an intense, effective workout. So many women are afraid of lifting weights, I think it could be amazing.”

The way Damon studied me was better than the way Jared looked at Raquel. It was like Ghirardelli’s compared to Hershey’s.

“What do you think?” I whispered.

Damon nodded. “I think you’re amazing. It’s brilliant. So many women could benefit from strength training but you’re right about them begin afraid or maybe wanting to lift but not having enough knowledge or the money to hire a personal trainer.” He grinned. “I love it, Cassie. Let me know how I can help.”

I grinned back at him. He loved my idea. Any uneasiness Jesse’s warning had created was pushed aside, I could easily let myself fall for Damon. “You already have,” I said.

*
         
*
         
*

Al squinted against the bright sunlight. “Where are they supposed to be?”

Terry pointed. “There’s some caves down there where they were waiting for the transfer.”

They scrambled down the dirt path and bustled into the quiet cave. Al resented being sent on a reconnaissance mission when they should be finding a way to get the video to Nathan Christensen. His contact, who had delivered the original pictures of Cassidy, had disappeared. If Al couldn’t get the video into Nathan’s hands, his plan to kill the man would fail. Whoever else was competing on this job would get to Nathan or Nathan’s family first. Two million dollars, gone. But no one said no to Ramirez when asked to run an “errand.”

What in the world was going on
? This place should be oozing with Ramirez’s men and slaves ready to be transported. Why hadn’t they reported in this morning?

The light from outside barely penetrated the opening. Al stumbled over a box and came face to face with a Spanish worker. Al shook the man. “Wake up. What’s going on here?”

The man didn’t respond. It was then Al felt the stickiness on his hands. He peered through the gloom at a deep cut in the man’s throat and the blood staining his shirt.

“Aagh!” Al jumped away. “He’s dead.” He snatched the flashlight from the man’s belt and switched on the light. The dim beam cut across the cave. Supplies. Piles of severed ropes. Dead men. Not a slave in sight. He glanced back at Terry. “See if any of them are alive.”

Terry nodded and started poking at the man closest to him. A groaning rasp tore Al to the right. He grabbed a worker struggling for breath through the slice in his throat. “What happened?” Al demanded.

“They . . . got us,” the man rasped out.

“Who?”

“The big,” he gurgled and spit blood before continuing, “black one and . . . the Doc.”

Al dropped the flashlight, lifted the man into his arms, and picked his way out of the cave. Terry caught up as they reached sunshine and left the reek of death in the darkness.

“Doc,” Al muttered.

Terry slammed his fist into his palm. “We’ve got to get him.”

Al could only nod. The man had to be stopped.

Damon stood next to me at the starting line. He cocked his head to the side and glanced down. “Just pace yourself. Don’t go out there and kill yourself at the first. Stay with a group you’re comfortable with until you’re ready to up your pace a bit. This isn’t about winning, it’s about forcing yourself to run at a faster pace than you normally would and getting used to the excitement of racing.”