Drive (17 page)

The black GT-R shot forward and cut in front of the big rig and Aiden, until Julian was in front of Canales. Right now, Canales was between Aiden and any exit ramp he might try to take, forcing him back toward the heart of Miami.

Aiden accelerated, pulling up alongside Julian. Canales jerked his car to the right, but Roni shot forward, cutting off that avenue.

“What's going on? What's happening?” Madison's breathing was erratic, scared, and he couldn't blame her.

He cut across in front of Julian, then Roni, and into the far right lane.

“You know how derby girls make a defensive line so the jammer can't get through?” He checked his mirrors, watching for the silver car, but it was gone.

“Y-yeah.”

“Julian and Roni are my defensive line.” If Madison weren't with him, if they weren't potentially carrying the shit Dustin wanted, sure, he'd be tempted to show Canales a lesson. The Chevelle could take a whole lot more of a beating than the Lancer.

Canales sped up, slowed down, but each time, Julian and Roni kept pace with him.

Aiden exited the highway, and wished his crew well. It was another two miles to the closest exit, and by then, he wanted to be long gone.

“Oh my God.” Madison twisted to peer out of the rear window.

“We're okay.” He reached for his phone, scrolling quickly through his contacts until he found Gabriel, their most resourceful asset. Anything they needed, any car they wanted to boost, Gabriel was their guy.

The Bluetooth rang and rang....

“What's on fire?” Gabriel asked.

“Not yet. I need a place, though.”

“Are you hiding or is this for a name?”

“Need to keep a low profile.”

“I got a place. It's mostly empty. It's off Fifth and Twenty-sixth above a lighting store. Loft space. That work?”

“Is there a bed and a microwave?”

“It's got sheets and towels.”

“Perfect. How do I get in?”

“There's a key hidden inside of a fake rock that's in a planter for a hibiscus plant that's to the right of the door.” Gabriel rattled off a security code and exact address.

“You're a lifesaver, man.”

“Yeah, just give me something more interesting to do.”

Aiden glanced at Madison, who hadn't lost the dazed look.

“Soon, man. Real soon.”

He hung up and turned the car toward South Beach and the Arts District, while keeping an eye on his phone. But it wasn't his that rang, it was Madison's. She dug it out of her pocket and frowned at the screen.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Matt.”

He tightened his grip on the wheel. Another problem that needed handling.

“Hello?”

Aiden felt Madison's gaze on him, but he wouldn't look at her. Not while she was talking to that fucking cop. His reaction was extreme and out of line, and he didn't care. For now, Madison was his. His responsibility. His to care about. His. And the cop needed to learn that lesson quick.

“That's—that's awful. Is everyone okay?” She paused and he could actually hear Matt Smith's voice. “No, we aren't anywhere near there. Actually, we just stopped for some food. I hope everyone's okay. . . . Okay. I will. Bye.”

Madison blew out a breath and leaned her head back, slouching down until she could rest her head on the back of the seat.

He refused to ask what that call was about.

“That silver car crashed.”

“Was anyone hurt?” he asked.

“The driver. He clipped another car, but the people in that one were okay. Matt thinks we were involved.”

They were. But it would take the golden detective a while to figure that out. Aiden didn't like the thought, but he was going to have to lean on CJ to make Matt Smith go away.

“Damn it. I'll get Emery to find out who it was, see if we can't do something for them. Offer them a deal on repairs or something.”

“That would be nice of you.”

“Fucking Canales.”

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace safe. We're going to stay at a friend's place for tonight. Do you need anything? Like . . . a toothbrush or something?”

“No, I keep an overnight bag in with my derby stuff. Usually I stay over at one of the girls' houses after a bout.”

“Reliving the game?”

“Taking a bath.” She chuckled, some of her good humor recovered. The shock of their short race was wearing off. “One thing that doesn't fit on a boat. A tub.”

“I see.” Good thing Gabriel was providing towels with the digs. “Hungry?”

“Starved.”

“There should be a little place around the corner from the loft. How about you take your bath, clean up, and I'll grab us some food. Then we can go through the boxes.” Granted, that meant he'd be hauling them up and down the stairs. Some aspects of this job sucked.

“Sounds amazing.”

As they neared the loft, Aiden pulled up a map on his phone until he found the exact building. There was a bright yellow shop advertising the latest fashions, a perfume wholesale store, a couple places he couldn't quite tell what they sold, and on the corner, a two-story white building with red doors. It had an industrial appearance, but he could make out a set of stairs leading up to a landing.

He circled around the building and parked in an alley. It wasn't much to hide the Chevelle, but it would have to do.

“We here?” Madison asked.

“Yup.”

He got out, stashing his gun in his waistband, and flipped on the flashlight app. He held his breath and circled around the back of the car.

“Motherfucker.” He knelt, pressing his hand into the dinner plate–sized dent.

“Oh no, I'm so sorry, Aiden.” Madison bent at the waist and they both took in the destroyed bumper and chipping paint.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a bumper in good enough condition?” Fuck. This was going to take weeks of searching. Again. And a new paint job.

That kid better be glad the cops had him, because Aiden wanted a piece of his hide.

He sighed and unlocked the trunk.

Madison gasped. The boxes were overturned, the contents everywhere. So much for hauling the boxes up to them. By the looks of it, they were going to have to go fishing in the trunk. Tomorrow. One glance at Madison and he knew her energy was fading.

He grabbed her bag out from the mess of his trunk and his overnight kit.

“Is it safe?” Madison asked.

Aiden jostled the trunk and tried to pry his fingers under the hood, but it held fast.

“Yeah. Looks like it's just the bumper and some paint.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Why?” He placed his hand on her lower back, urging her toward the street. Once he had her settled, he'd do a sweep of the area then get her food.

“Because . . . I don't know.”

“Canales has issues with me. Not you.” Though if Aiden hadn't been at the game, would Canales have gone after Madison? It was a possibility he didn't want to contemplate. He was supposed to be getting her out of harm's way, not into it.

They walked toward the street. It was late enough the immediate area was shut up tight for the night. Good for them. Bad for anyone searching them out.

The stairs leading up to the loft were narrow, metal, and open to the street. Not ideal, but again, someone couldn't sneak up on them easily.

A row of hibiscus plants stood against the white plaster building, silent sentinels.

Aiden glanced around, but didn't see anyone watching. He bent and searched the first pot for a stone, but came up empty. The third pot yielded the key.

“Come on.”

Madison trudged up the stairs. There was a long, red mark where she'd slid on the floor after being hit, and every now and then she cradled her left arm to her chest. The woman was something else.

He unlocked the loft and did a quick sweep of it. Close to fifteen hundred square feet, there was a kitchenette, a full bath, and a bed big enough for four people. If he had to guess, this was someone's party pad.

“I'm going to go get us some food. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

Madison knelt next to the bathroom wall, near the bed. She had her gear laid out, and another bag in hand.

“Yeah. Is it okay if I clean up?”

“Go ahead. I'll lock the door, but if you hear anything—”

“I'll call you. I know the drill.” She stood, one side of her mouth hiked up in a lopsided smile.

“Good.” He crossed to her and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, as if it was what he always did.

Madison sucked in air. He turned away from her. Maybe he shouldn't take such liberties with her, but touching her, kissing her, they felt natural. Right. If he had to stop he should just turn over her safety to someone else, because he couldn't stop himself.

Chapter Seventeen

Aiden left the loft, locking it up tight, and put space between himself and Madison. His mind continued to stray back to her.

What was he doing?

Hadn't he told himself in the beginning that Madison didn't need him in her life? At least not romantically. Something had changed yesterday. He couldn't put his finger on what, but there was a point, when they'd stopped for a moment in the parking lot, where he'd accepted that keeping his hands off Madison wasn't going to happen. But even then, he'd thought last night would be enough.

He'd been wrong.

Aiden had spent the day peeking at his phone to see if she'd texted him back, reliving the night before—not to mention that morning.

He was well aware that tense situations breed heightened emotions. Which was why he'd always avoided getting involved with a client beyond what was strictly necessary. But Madison was different. He wanted her and enjoyed the hell out of spending time with her, but the most responsible thing to do would be to shut the door on this relationship. Leave it at scorching-hot sex.

The restaurant a few streets over was doing a healthy amount of business, mostly to locals since the waitstaff barely spoke English. He played it safe and ordered a couple burgers.

Aiden ducked outside while he waited and put in a call to CJ. The phone rang twice.

“Caused enough trouble yet?” CJ asked.

“I didn't start it. We need to stop Canales. I was thinking we could call in the DEA. You know the local field agents, don't you?”

“Let me see what I can do.”

“Also, and I know you aren't going to like this one—”

“What?”

“Call the police chief. This detective is breathing down our necks. I don't care what you have to tell him, but he's got to back off.”

“Shit. You want some fries with that too?” CJ sighed. “I'll have Kathy get on the horn to the DEA. They like her better than me. The cops, they aren't going to be happy about this. I'm just warning you, the chief is probably going to shoot straight with Matt. That means he'll know.”

The fewer people who knew about their operation, the better. But some things couldn't be helped.

“Do it,” Aiden said. A waitress stepped out of the restaurant, holding a bag of takeout. “I've got to go. Food's ready.”

He tipped the waitress and checked his watch.

Half an hour.

It wasn't long, but with two people now after them, it was longer than he wanted to leave Madison alone.

OMW, he texted. He hit the sidewalk at a brisk pace, juggling food and drinks.

His phone didn't chime once all the way back to the loft. By the time he unlocked the doors and let himself in, he was concerned.

“Madison?”

No answer.

He put the food down on an island that ran the length of the kitchenette.

“Madison, you here?”

Her gear was still spread out, and everything perfectly in place.

Aiden pushed the door to the bathroom open and his heart leapt into his throat.

Madison lay in the tub, head tipped back and face turned away from him. The water was hazy.

“Madison!” He choked out her name, going to his knees, reaching for her. She turned toward him.

She blinked several times, her eyes heavy. He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her toward him.

“What's wrong?” She sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and rubbing her knuckles across her eyes.

“You didn't answer your phone. I was calling your name.”

“Oh, sorry. I took a shower and then I must have dozed off.”

He glanced down at the rest of her. Yeah, she was naked, and the murky water didn't do much to hide her lush curves and inked adornments from view.

“What's in the water?”

“Epsom salt.”

“Oh.”

That made . . . perfect sense.

* * *

Madison hugged her knees closer to her chest. She hadn't been able to resist the huge tub after her shower. It was easily big enough for several people to soak at once, and she had it all to herself.

“Are you okay?” Aiden's stare was, in a word, intense. He hadn't taken his eyes off her since rousing her from her unintended nap.

“I'm fine.” But she might not have been if it weren't for Aiden's quick driving and his friends. That was a reality she didn't want to think too hard about.

He sat down on the tile next to the tub, leaning against the side.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Sitting here.”

Why? How was she supposed to respond to that?

“Talk to Matt again?” he asked.

“Uh . . . no.” What did Matt have to do with anything?

“Does he call you often?”

Matt was the last thing she wanted to talk about with Aiden. Things with the detective were odd at the best of times.

“He calls me every couple of days, sometimes more. I don't answer half the time.”

“When you don't answer, does he call again?”

She stared at Aiden. “Yeah.”

“He's stalking you.”

“Stalking? What? I wouldn't call it that.”

“Then what would you call it?”

Why was he being so aggressive about Matt? What did the cop even matter?

“I don't know. Doing his job? Or at least that's what he thinks he's doing. That's what it was. Now it's . . . I don't know. Odd. It's not always about my ex, it's, ‘Let me protect you,' and shit.”

“Protect you from what?” Aiden spoke slowly and there was a note in his tone, a deadly one that made her want to remain perfectly still.

“Dustin, I guess.” She shrugged. “Why are you so upset? What is it you call what you're doing, sticking to my ass like glue?”

“We are working together on this.” Aiden pressed his lips together and stared at her for a moment. “Did he try to protect you tonight from me?”

Yes . . . but she hadn't felt as though she needed it.

Aiden's lips compressed into a tight line and a fire lit in his gaze.

“He did, didn't he?” Aiden pressed.

“Yeah, okay, so what?”

Aiden glanced away. She stared at his profile, trying to sort out exactly what was going on. She hadn't wanted to tell him about Matt because the detective wasn't in her life by choice. They weren't all that dissimilar, but it was in how they interacted with her that they differed. Matt pressured her. Aiden urged her. It was a slight difference, but if she ever accepted Matt's help she'd be putting her head through a noose. Aiden believed he would actually rescue her from it, though he might break all the rules. On paper, it was Matt she should be turning to for help, but in reality, she needed someone like Aiden. They weren't too dissimilar, good men, good intentions, good-looking....

He was jealous.

Aiden of the panty-dropping smile, sizzling gaze, and tantalizing muscles . . . was jealous.

Was that even possible?

Apparently it was.

“I've never accepted Matt's help,” she said.

Aiden didn't reply.

“He's a great detective, and I'm sure he means well, but anything he would do only puts me more at risk. He can't help me if I don't give him something on Dustin, and even then, he can't promise it'll be enough.”

“But I can?”

“You said you could.”

“Is that why you fucked me?”

Madison blinked at him. Her mind did not work in the same ways his did. The connections he saw, the patterns, they weren't how she saw the world.

“What? No.” She hugged her knees tighter to her chest. Did he really think she'd do that? After everything they'd been through and all that she'd told him? His suspicion stung and an ache throbbed deep in her chest. “Last night had nothing to do with anything, except you and me. If you can't accept that's what it was, then maybe I need to leave.”

“What happened last night?”

“Uh, I'm pretty sure you were there.”

“Yeah, but I'm asking you what happened.”

“We had sex. What do you call it? Tactical spy shit?” Pinpricks of pain started behind her eyes. She was going to cry, damn it. She hated crying, but she'd allowed herself to be vulnerable with him, and now he suspected her? “I'm not doing this.”

She yanked the stopper out of the tub and hauled herself upright, turning her back on the man she'd thought she was growing to care for. A towel hung ready for her on a hook. She wrapped it around herself and knotted the ends between her breasts. She took deep, calming breaths.

“Madison.” His hand wrapped around her arm. Why was he always so warm? It soaked into her skin, down to her bones.

“Don't touch me.”

She tried to pull her arm out of his grip, but he was too strong. Aiden tugged her toward him and she sloshed through the bathwater, turning to face him. His brows were drawn down and his lips curled into a frown. He cupped her other shoulder, steadying her.

“I'm sorry,” he said. Plain and simple.

The apology caught her off guard. She stared at him, as if she might will him to say more.

“Sorry for what?”

His hold gentled and he slid his hands around to her back.

“Being an ass.”

“That's a start.”

His lips compressed once more.

“For fuck's sake, Aiden.” She pushed at his chest but he wrapped his arms around her, bringing them closer, the side of the square tub hitting her shins.

He didn't speak, didn't refute what he'd said. Instead, he bent his head and rested his forehead against hers. First he was jealous of Dustin, now suspicious of her, what next?

“It's hard to trust,” he said quietly.

“I thought we established that already. You have to take a risk.”

“I take a lot of risks.”

He was a great driver. Former soldier. She could see the nature of risk written all over him. But trusting someone intimately, opening up, that was another kind of risk. One she fell into far too easily, while someone like Aiden struggled with it.

“I'm not going to allow you to accuse me of trading sex for your protection.” Or cheapen what had been a beautiful memory.

“That was wrong.”

“You think?”

“I said I'm sorry.”

“For being an ass.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn't quite cover it. I think accusing me of screwing you with ulterior motives is a bit more extreme than being an ass.”

“You're right. I was out of line.” He sighed and slid a hand higher, above the towel, splaying his fingers over her back. “This isn't how any of this is supposed to go.”

“You said that before.”

“I know. It's just . . . different. I don't know how to explain it.”

He was jealous and unsure of whatever this nameless relationship they'd forged was supposed to be. She got that. When he rolled out of her life, she was scared of what would happen to her. Not physically, but emotionally. She was a serial monogamist who had a problem with falling in love. Always had. And here she was, tipping over the edge, about to fall for the most unavailable man she'd ever met, and there wasn't any stopping her.

Aiden cupped her cheek and she let her eyes drift close. Whatever happened between them was already building momentum. She couldn't stop it, and why would she? Being in his arms made her feel alive. At the very least, he would burn away the touch of any man who came before him. It might be a while before she was able to love after him, but maybe, just maybe, this was what she needed.

He tipped her chin up and in his usual style, gave her every opportunity to turn away. For a few seconds she stood perfectly still, her hands on his chest, eyes closed. She felt his breath on her mouth. She curled her toes on the slippery tub and relished the pitter-patter of her heart. The anticipation, wanting him, it was one of the best things about their attraction.

Finally, his lips brushed hers in a quick graze, a quick peck, but he came back setting his mouth against hers.

She fisted his shirt, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. He wanted to think this was fake? That the passion they'd shared wasn't real? She'd show him how hot they could burn.

Madison wrapped her arm around his neck and lifted up on tiptoe, trying to get closer. Her foot slipped across the bottom of the wet tub and she hit the edge with her knees. She cried out as pain shot up and down her legs. Aiden's grip around her waist was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Shit.” She hissed. Her already abused knees ached. Bruises on top of bruises. Lovely.

“You okay?”

She sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed the angry red mark. So much for passion.

“Yeah.”

“This tub is trying to kill you.”

Aiden bent and scooped her up in his arms in one easy move. Madison gasped, but held still. He walked sideways through the door with her and took her to the bed. He knelt next to her and ran his hands over the marks. The skin seemed to have split a little, but she wasn't bleeding and she'd suffered far worse injuries simply walking around the boat.

“I'm fine,” she said. He made her extend one leg, then the other.

“Will you be quiet and let me make sure?”

She clamped her lips together. He cupped the back of her knee, letting the joint bend. It didn't hurt or twinge, but his touch was pleasant. Warm. He slid his palms down her calves and she stopped breathing.

By all rights, she could still be angry with him. But what was the point? He'd admitted he was wrong, and guys did stupid things when their feelings started up. Their time together was short. She didn't want to waste it being upset, when they could spend time in much more pleasurable ways.