No One to Trust (9 page)

“Can you reach your cell phone?” he asked,
his heart in his throat. Elizabeth should never have been placed in
a situation like this and he hated the fear he saw on her face.

She bent down to where it had fallen to the
floor and grabbed it. “Who do you want me to call?”

“No one. Take out your SIM card and
battery.”

She looked confused but popped the back of
the phone off. He glanced in the rearview mirror again. He doubted
anyone had planted a tracking device on his vehicle or even her
phone but he didn’t have time to check. And he wasn’t taking any
chances. She’d been at Orlando’s house long enough for one of his
men to have planted something on her so he’d rather be paranoid
than dead.

When she’d done as he asked, he rolled down
her window a scant few inches. “Keep the SIM card, throw out
everything else.”

She hesitated for a millisecond, but did as
he asked.

He took an abrupt turn, earning a quick yelp
from Elizabeth. At least she wasn’t the crying, screaming type.
Thank God.
He couldn’t handle that right now and it would
just be harder on her if she lost control. So far she seemed to be
handling things okay but after the day she’d had, he just hoped she
wasn’t going into shock.

“Where are we going?” Her quiet voice tugged
at his heart, making him want to head to Orlando’s and put the guy
out of his misery.

“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” It was all
he could offer. Right now he wasn’t sure where he was taking her.
Red Stone had a few safe houses located around Miami for emergency
situations but he wasn’t going to take her to any of them on the
chance that Orlando knew about them. It was unlikely, but with
Elizabeth’s life at stake, there was no room for error.

He steered them down a few side-streets and
deeper into the heart of Miami. Bright blue, green and various
tropical colored houses flew by them. As he took another turn, his
death grip on the steering wheel lessened. There wasn’t anyone
following them that he could see. Even his security team wasn’t
visible. One of the guys had tried radioing him but he’d snapped it
off. It wasn’t far-fetched that one of Orlando’s men could be
listening in on the right frequency.

Porter slowed and turned down a dead end
street. It was lined with old, one-story Florida homes that
displayed awnings and jalousie windows. Everything was so damn
quiet and peaceful it was hard to believe they’d just been under
fire minutes before.

“What are we going to do?” Elizabeth’s voice
shook.

“We’ve got to ditch this vehicle,” he said as
he kicked the SUV into park. It was the best answer he could give
her.

She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
“Okay.”

More than anything he wanted to lean over and
comfort her, promise her everything would be all right—but now
wasn’t the time. He glanced in his rearview mirror before he bent
to grab an extra gun he kept stowed under the driver’s seat, but he
froze. An SUV—not the Bronco that had clipped them—slowed then
parked a few houses back. He twisted around in his seat. A man
emerged from a vehicle carrying what looked like—his heart
stopped.

Was that a hand rocket?

For a split second, Porter thought he was
seeing things. He was in Miami, not a warzone. Without pause, he
grabbed the gun then unstrapped Elizabeth’s seat belt and grasped
her slim arm.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked and
struggled against his unforgiving hold.

He knew her instinct to fight was kicking in
because he was manhandling her. Instead of answering, he opened his
door and forcibly dragged her across the console. Luckily she
didn’t weigh much. “Run!” he shouted.

As they tumbled on to the sidewalk, he hauled
her to her feet and shoved her toward one of the houses. Blood
rushed loudly in his ears as he tried to get her to safety. He
risked a glance over his shoulder. The guy had the weapon aimed,
was about to fire. Porter wrapped his arms around her waist and
tackled her to the grassy surface, using his body to protect
hers.

A hissing sound streaked through the air then
the SUV lifted a few feet off the ground, landing with a sickening
boom. A ball of smoke and flames engulfed the vehicle and climbed
into the night sky as parts and pieces flew in every direction,
landing with loud thuds. The heat licked at his back, but
adrenaline coursed through him.

Stay alive. Keep Elizabeth alive.

His thought process was simple.

Pinned beneath him on her back, Elizabeth’s
dark eyes widened as she gaped at him. He quickly tugged her to her
feet. Now she definitely wasn’t fighting him. She kicked off her
high heels and they ran full force across one of the front yards.
Once they rounded the one-story house, Porter jumped the chain link
fence into a bordering backyard, then lifted her under her arms and
slung her over. Now was no time to be gentle.

They needed to put distance between them and
the man who’d just tried to blow them up with a hand rocket. Porter
hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but it had looked like an AT4 or
an RPG. Either way, they were in a very bad situation. Aim didn’t
have to be exact with a hand rocket. As long as someone could hit
in the general vicinity of their target, damage was guaranteed.

This just brought up a whole new mess of
questions. Why would Orlando Salas send someone to come after
Elizabeth with an RPG in the middle of Miami? Granted, Porter knew
Orlando had connections to arms dealers—he did sell drugs after
all—but this attack screamed desperation. Porter guessed it had
something to do with whatever was in that safe deposit box. Which
meant getting to it before anyone else was now paramount.

“We’ve got to find another car,” he said so
Elizabeth would know he had some semblance of a plan.

“Yes.” She was panting next to him, but she
kept up as they ran across the backyard.

Rounding the corner of another one story
house, he motioned to Lizzy to keep her back against the wall. She
complied without comment.

Hugging the wall, they inched along the side
of the house. The fence didn’t extend all the way around the yard
so once they had visibility of the front yard and part of the
neighborhood, Porter pulled out his gun. He hated doing this, but
it was the only way to stay alive.

He turned to Elizabeth. “I need you to be my
lookout. If you hear or see anything suspicious, run and don’t look
back. Then find a pay phone and call Harrison or Grant.”

She grabbed his arm, fingers curling into his
flesh. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m finding us a car.”

“Okay.” Her voice wobbled, but she crouched
down against the corner of the wall.

Keeping his gun low, he stepped out from
their hiding place and visually scanned the rest of the
neighborhood.

Two houses down, he spotted an old Volkswagen
Beetle. Easy to hotwire. He motioned to Lizzy to follow him.
Hotwiring was a skill he’d picked up as a teenager. Not something
he’d ever been proud of, but now he was damn thankful for the
ability. In less than thirty seconds, he’d hotwired the white car
and they were heading deeper into the heart of Miami.

* * * * *

Lizzy’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as
she sank down onto the closed toilet seat of the cheap motel room
Porter had checked them into—after paying with cash. Her legs
trembled and she could barely stand as it was. She couldn’t believe
what had just happened. Terrified didn’t even begin to cover what
she was feeling.

Someone had blown up Porter’s SUV with a
freaking rocket launcher or something. And
they
could have
been in it when it happened. If it hadn’t been for Porter dragging
her out of it she’d be dead. Another shudder snaked through
her.

Porter was on the phone with Harrison in the
adjoining bedroom letting him know they wouldn’t be coming to the
engagement party tonight so she’d taken the chance to escape for
some privacy. No need to let Porter see what a mess she was. This
whole situation was her fault. Or, more specifically, her brother’s
fault. She might want to keep him out of trouble but whatever Benny
had gotten himself into was big and really bad. She didn’t want to
think the worst of him, but other people she cared about had almost
been killed because of their involvement with her. First her best
friend, and now Porter. Not to mention innocent bystanders.

She attempted to take a deep breath but her
lungs felt too small. Her entire body shook and it was taking what
little grasp on self-control she had left not to break down into a
puddle of tears.

Porter was so efficient and was handling
everything so she didn’t want to appear weak, especially when this
was her mess.
Not his.
If not for her he’d never have gotten
dragged into this. Still…hot tears burned her eyes and began to
spill over, carving a hot path down her cheeks.

Crap.

She couldn’t cry. Not now. If she started,
she’d never stop. Her tears, however, didn’t listen to her command.
To her horror, more pooled in her eyes and they just kept
flowing.

A soft knock on the bathroom door jerked her
head in that direction.

“Lizzy?” Porter called softly.

He was using her nickname. Just great. She
couldn’t handle gentleness right now. If he was aloof maybe it
would snap her out of this pseudo-breakdown.

“Lizzy?” He said her name again, this time
louder and there was no mistaking the concern in that deep
voice.

She opened her mouth but only a squeak came
out. Mortification welled up inside her. She cleared her throat and
tried again. “I’m fine,” she rasped out, ignoring how watery and
pathetic she sounded.

When he didn’t respond she figured he’d give
her some space. Leaning forward, she spread her knees and put her
head between them. Somehow she had to get control. As she took a
deep breath, the bathroom door swung open.

Porter stood in the doorway, his jacket off,
his tie loosened and concern on every inch of his face. He swore
softly and before she could react he was kneeling in front of her.
“Are you all right?”

How could he be so calm? They’d almost been
killed. “I’m fine. Sorry you have to see me like this.” She batted
away some of her tears and for the moment they abated.

Frowning, he cupped her face with one hand
and gently wiped her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t
have anything to apologize for,” he murmured.

The feel of his callused hand on her skin
quickly dried the rest of her tears. In a split second her emotions
jumped from still-terrified to turned-on and getting hotter. Good
Lord, what was wrong with her?

As she blinked away the blurriness her
leftover tears caused, the heat in Porter’s blue eyes seemed to
glow in the small, dimly lit room. “Don’t I?” The question came out
as a whisper.

He growled something low in his throat. She
couldn’t understand what he said—if he’d said anything at all.

Still staring at her, he slid his hand back
farther until he cupped her head. His grip was dominating but not
too tight. Her lips parted as she gazed at him. Anything that
happened between them now would likely be a mistake. It was so hard
to care though when she craved a release. Anything to take off the
edge of the fear crawling around inside her like angry spiders.

Porter was everything she needed and
wanted.

Strength.

Stability.

Pure, masculine power.

Lord, the power that emanated from him was
enthralling. A shiver rolled over her that had nothing to do with
the temperature of the room and everything to do with the man in
front of her.

He swallowed once,
hard
, as he stared
at her. “You kill all my good intentions.” His voice sounded as
unsteady as her quaking insides felt.

“Right back at ya,” she murmured.

Porter wanted to kiss her. She could see it
in his eyes. He was definitely contemplating it but he was also
torn. Probably held some honorable thought that right now she was
vulnerable and he didn’t want to capitalize on it.

That honor was one of the things that had
originally drawn her to him. But it didn’t change the fact that she
would never stop loving her brother and Porter would never
understand the bond she and Benny had. It would always lie between
them and she couldn’t let herself fall for a man when she knew
she’d always feel guilty for running to help her brother. It would
create resentment for both of them.

Instead of doing the one thing she
desperately wanted—throwing her arms around Porter’s neck and
kissing him until they were both breathless and stripping their
clothes off in a mad frenzy—she cleared her throat and averted her
gaze from his spell binding one.

The moment she did, Porter dropped his
hand.

A sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she was
holding escaped loud enough for him to hear. Guilt jumped inside
her at the almost hurt look he gave her but it was gone so fast she
wondered if she’d imagined it.

As he stood, she did too. At least she now
had a lid snapped shut on her emotions. Instead of looking in the
mirror and seeing what a mess she had to be, she followed him to
the other room and perched on the edge of the queen sized bed. “So
what’s going on?”

“I spoke to Harrison and Grant.” Instead of
joining her on the bed he paced at the end of it, looking like an
animal trapped in a cage. He hated being trapped here, feeling
useless. She understood because she felt the same way.

“And?”

“Harrison definitely understands why we won’t
be at the party tonight but he wants us to go to one of Red Stone’s
safe houses.”

But Porter didn’t. He’d already told her as
much and she agreed with his reasoning. On the off chance Orlando
had somehow found a mole within Red Stone and knew about the
locations of their safe houses around the city, Lizzy had no
problem hunkering down in a pay-by-the-hour motel. As crappy as the
place was, discomfort was an easy trade-off for staying alive.
“What about Grant?”