Rhys (6 page)

“Do we have a problem?” Rhys asked.

“You tell me, Rhys. That was one hell of a good cop/bad cop show you put on a minute ago. So convincing that you almost fooled all of us.”

Rhys lifted his chin and met Carter’s gaze. His loyalty had never been called into question before. He didn’t like the feeling.

“Last night, a broken and bloody woman collapsed in my arms and I had to carry her away from a man I thought was my friend,” Rhys said plainly. “So, yes. I am committed to uncovering the truth. Probably more than anyone here.”

“Good,” Carter said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I’ll expect a full report soon then.”

“It might take a little time,” Rhys said.

“We don’t have time.”

“Then we’ll make it,” Rhys said, his voice tighter than he’d like. “I won’t get anything out of Tessa if I question her directly.”

Carter’s shoulders pulled back. “Have you tried?”

“I don’t have to. I know what Dylan did to her. I saw how she reacted when you confronted her.”

“But I’m not you,” Carter said. “You can make anyone talk.”

“Yes, I can,” Rhys said, squaring his shoulders. “So, let me do my job.”

Carter’s eyes narrowed at the challenge, but Rhys didn’t back down. Eventually, Carter gave a reluctant nod.

“Fair enough,” he said. “You have until Monday. If there’s no progress by then, we switch to more traditional means.”

Five days. That should be more than enough time. Both for Tessa to regain her strength, and for him to find out what he needed.

“If that’s settled, then I think that Dr. Rosenthal is right. We should be getting back to the office.” Carter moved toward the back door. “I’ll have Jake swing by with a week’s worth of supplies tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” Jake said, helping Charlie down from the counter.

Rhys paused at the screen door as he heard a rustle deep inside the house.

“Until then we’ll have to come up with a plan to slow down Boyd,” Carter said, as he started down the back steps toward where his sports car du jour was parked. “Charlie, you can start digging into that
Project Exodus
that she was talking about. I’ll have Mason start looking into SciGen financials.”

“Where are you off to, Rhys?” Charlie asked when he made a sharp turn at the bottom of the stairs.

“Perimeter check,” he called out as he turned the corner of the house.

***

Tessa stood with her ear to the bedroom door, waiting for the house to go quiet. She’d been there for a while now, listening to the constant muffled hum of voices. After a while, she’d even cracked the door, hoping to catch a little more of what they were saying, but no luck. They were too far away—in the kitchen by the sound of it—and deliberately keeping their voices down.

It didn’t take a PhD to figure out what they were discussing.

One look in Carter Macmillan’s eyes and Tessa knew that he hadn’t taken a word she’d said seriously. The damned fool would never back down. He’d just keep digging until he found something that would put him and his whole team in danger.

Including Rhys.

Which meant that Tessa had to make sure there was nothing for him to find.

Of course, that would be a hell of a lot harder if she never had a moment alone to make her escape.

She was just about to admit defeat and give up when she heard the squeak of a door hinge swinging open, then closed.

Then silence. Nothing. Not a footstep. Not a sound.

Everyone must have gone out back. She strained to listen and, sure enough, she could just barely hear them talking outside her window. They had to be headed for their cars.

Which meant this was her chance.

Tessa turned around and grabbed the bag that was sitting on the bed. She didn’t know if she would get far enough to use the change of clothes, but figured she was better safe than sorry.

Speaking of which, it would be good to have some protection, just in case. Jake’s knife was still where she’d dropped it on the floor. She bent over to pick it up, and red-hot pain sliced through her side. Tessa hissed in a breath as she straightened up.

Damn it. Rhys was right. She was in no condition to leave.

But she didn’t have a choice. This might be her only chance. She had to seize it.

She tucked the blade inside the bag and hobbled out of the bedroom door.

Hopefully, everyone would stay busy planning her future long enough for her to get a decent head start. She didn’t need much. Even ten minutes would be enough.

It was still morning. With any luck, that meant the neighborhood would be quiet and she could slip in between the cover of houses until she reached downtown. Then she could head straight for the bus. She didn’t have any money, but she wasn’t above panhandling. She didn’t need much. Just enough to make it to San Jose.

After that it didn’t matter what happened to her.

Tessa knew it wasn’t a great plan. There were a million ways for it to go wrong, for someone to see her slinking around and call the cops, for Rhys—or, God forbid, one of Boyd’s men—to find her, but it would have to do.

She didn’t dare try to run down the hallway. She’d never make it more than a couple of steps. Slow and steady would have to win this race. Right now, it was enough that her knees were strong enough to hold her upright.

Tessa focused on that only bright spot as she forced one foot in front of the other all the way down the long hallway. She was almost afraid to breathe until she reached the front door, certain that at any second Carter Macmillan was going to come in through the back and catch her red-handed.

Tessa let out a sigh as she finally made it to the front of the house and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. She turned it and threw it open.

And stopped cold.

Her heart jumped up into her throat at the sight of Rhys leaning against one of the painted wood beams that held up the covered porch. He slowly lifted his head as Tessa gasped.

“R-Rhys,” Tessa stuttered. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you,” he said as he pushed off the railing. His expression was flat, not showing even a flicker of anger, or disappointment…or surprise.

Damn it. She’d been so close.

Tessa staggered back a step, moving deeper into the house. Rhys followed.

“I…I can explain,” she said.

Of course, she couldn’t. Not in a way that would make anything better, at least. Tessa had the terrible feeling that she’d crossed the closest thing she’d had to an ally in this whole mess. After this, there would be no more understanding gazes, no more calm reassurances. Just demands that she couldn’t meet.

“No need to explain.” He followed her inside the house, and turned to close the door behind him. “I knew you were going to try and run the moment Carter officially assigned me to look after you.”

Her mouth fell open. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m very good at reading people, Tessa.” He turned to face her. The look in his eyes was direct, but without judgment. “I know when they’re lying. I can tell when they’re hiding something. I can even see when someone is so terrified of their own secrets that they’re willing to run away from the people that are trying to help.”

Tessa swallowed down past the lump in her throat. Surely, he couldn’t tell all of that just by looking at her. She shuffled back a few more steps until her legs hit the back of the couch.

Rhys didn’t follow her this time. He just watched her with seemingly endless patience with his hands clasped in front of him.

“What if that person is afraid that no one is listening to her? That they’re all putting themselves in danger by protecting her? That the only way to keep them alive is to run as far away as she can?”

The words tumbled out of Tessa’s mouth, each one more frantic than the last.

Rhys held her gaze for another moment, studying her face. Then he took a slow step toward her, moving at a non-threatening pace until he was only a few inches away.

“I would remind her that the people helping her have done this sort of thing before,” he said, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “That this is what they’ve been trained for. That this is what they do.”

His eyes never left hers as his hand slid down her arm until it reached the duffel bag in her hand. Gently, his fingers wrapped around hers, peeling them back until the straps slipped from her grasp. The bag fell with a thud to the floor.

“Then I would explain again how good I am at my job,” he said.

Tessa blinked, not realizing until that moment how caught up she’d been in his gaze. So much, that she’d almost let him seduce her into a sense of calm when she should be fighting for her freedom.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“I know that’s not the only reason you’re running, Tessa,” he said without hesitation. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

Tessa started to shake her head, but stopped almost immediately. It seemed there was no use denying it. If Rhys was as good as he said he was—and he certainly seemed to be—then he would see right through her lies.

Her heart pounded anew.

“Are you going to try to make me talk?” Her voice shook. It was certainly what his boss wanted. Of course, Tessa didn’t think that Rhys would be anywhere near as cruel as Dylan in his interrogation, but the thought of enduring another round of questioning still made her recoil.

“No,” he said. “Never. That’s a promise. I’m here to protect you, Tessa. Not hurt you. I would never force you to do anything any more than I would let you put yourself in danger.”

“So, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“Stay with you. Help you heal. Make sure that you’re safe,” he said.

“And what about my…secrets?” she asked, raising a brow.

Rhys let go of her hand. He turned and started toward the kitchen.

“You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he said.

Tessa cocked her head to the side. She stared at his back as he walked away. She didn’t understand. That was it? All he had to say?

That couldn’t be it.

She held on to the back of the couch for a long moment, wondering what to do. She could simply pick up the bag and try again. The door was right in front of her.

But deep down she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Rhys would simply come out and calmly bring her back inside…where she was safe.

In the end, her curiosity won out. She shuffled across the living room to the kitchen archway. She found him pulling plates and pans from the cupboards.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Making you breakfast,” he said without turning around. “I figured you had to be starving.”

He was right. She was, though with all her troubles, she’d pushed food way down the list of worries.

Tessa’s stomach began to growl as he cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork.

“So, that’s your plan?” she asked, only half joking. “To seduce the truth out of me with an omelet?”

“Something like that,” Rhys said as he turned around.

His lips didn’t quite pull up into a smile as their eyes met, but she caught just the barest hint of humor sparkling in his eyes. His expression softened and the effect almost took her breath away.

The man might be every bit the steely badass that Tessa had seen the night before, but he was also a damned gorgeous one.

“And you’re sure that’s going to work?” Tessa asked, once she could breathe again.

“Positive,” he said.

There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his voice.

Chapter Six

Tessa wasn’t sure how she was going to make it through the day.

She couldn’t sleep. Hell, she could barely even close her eyes. Every time she did, Dylan Murtry’s face emerged from the darkness.

Television wasn’t a much better distraction.

She’d hoped that the constant hum and mild drama would help keep her mind occupied. But it didn’t turn out that way. If anything, the manufactured drama of daytime television made the day creep by at a nearly unbearable pace.

Dead silence was better than that. Good thing too, because stretched out on the couch, watching the minutes tick by on the clock hanging above the mantle, there certainly was plenty of it.

Rhys was still with her, of course, but Tessa was quickly learning that her newfound friend was hardly the world’s greatest conversationalist. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease in the stillness of the house, almost as if he was in his natural habitat.

Of course, he didn’t seem to be lacking for tasks. He’d made her breakfast, worked on his computer, fixed lunch, poked at his phone.

Tessa, on the other hand, didn’t even have a book.

She wasn’t used to prolonged periods of inactivity. Back in her lab, her mind and body were always moving, always working on something. There were puzzles to solve, answers to find, pieces to put together.

And in the few hours out of the week that she wasn’t at work or sleeping, she’d always managed to keep her body busy with something, usually the gym. But apparently, safe houses didn’t come equipped with treadmills.

Not that she could have used one if it was in front of her.

She’d barely been able to move since lying down on the couch, and it wasn’t just because she’d wasted all her energy earlier trying to sneak out the front door.

Her side was sore as the devil. Every joint in her body ached, and the cuts on her body stung like fire. On top of all that, she had a throbbing headache that made her fear her brain was about to push its way out of her skull.

All together, Tessa had seen better days.

But moping about it wasn’t going to make it any better. Besides, if she spent any more time staring up at the dried paint on the ceiling like a child trying to find patterns in the clouds, she was truly going to drive herself mad.

A groan escaped Tessa’s lips as she pushed past the soreness and lifted herself up into a sitting position.

“Everything okay?”

Tessa turned her stiff neck to find Rhys sitting at a table in the corner, a laptop open in front of him.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just needed to move around a little. I think I’m going a little stir crazy.”

“You’re not going to turn on the television again, are you?”

Tessa smiled at the concern in his voice. Of all the trials that he’d faced in the last twenty-four hours alone, talk shows and soap operas were the only things she’d seen that made Rhys Vaughn truly nervous.

“That bad, eh?” she asked.

A sharp look of distaste flashed over his face. “It…bothered me.”

“Yeah, daytime television can do that to the best of us.”

“You’re saying it gets better at night?”

“Some of it.” Tessa shrugged. “You really
never
watch tv?”

“I have other things to do at night.”

Tessa laughed, and Rhys’ brows pulled together. She got the feeling he wasn’t used to people laughing at his words. Maybe he was just unused to other people period.

“Was that meant to be cryptic or boastful?” she teased.

“Neither.” He regarded her for another long moment, and Tessa found her skin starting to heat as she felt pinned down by that jewel blue gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she said. “Tired. Bored.”

Scared out of my mind. Afraid to close my eyes.

Tessa looked down at her lap. She laced her fingers together and rubbed her thumbs over each other. The simple movement didn’t do much to relieve the stress roiling inside of her.

A second later, she heard Rhys push back in his chair. He walked over to the edge of the couch and pulled a fuzzy blanket off the armrest. He bent over as he wrapped it around Tessa’s outstretched legs.

“Thanks,” she said, combing her fingers through the fringe along the edge.

“You should try to sleep,” he said, staying by her side. “I promise, Boyd isn’t going to find you.”

There was a note of confidence in his voice that was hard to ignore. She wanted to believe him, even though she didn’t have a shred of evidence proving his words.

She looked up at him. “How can you be sure?”

Rhys sat down on a sliver of empty space by the bend of her knees.

“All of Macmillan’s safe houses are completely off the grid,” he explained. “Boyd can dig all he wants. There is no trail he can find that will lead him here.”

“I’m guessing Charlie saw to that,” Tessa said with a half smile.

“She did.”

“Carter Macmillan is lucky to have her,” she said. “You all are.”

“You’re right.”

Tessa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked Rhys in the eye. She couldn’t help feeling a strange bolt of awareness at the intimate feel of his body next to hers, even if the contact was incidental at best. Even though she was in no shape to act on anything she might be feeling.

If Rhys felt the same, his expression didn’t show it. It didn’t show much of anything at all. On the other hand, he didn’t look like he was in any rush to get up either.

And as long as he was here, she figured there wasn’t any harm in talking. As long as she was the one that got to pick the subject, that is.

“Carter doesn’t trust me, does he?” she asked.

Rhys held her gaze for a long moment before shaking his head. “No, he doesn’t.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “None of your friends do, right?”

“Some less than others,” he said.

That was okay. She didn’t completely trust any of them either. Truthfully, Tessa wasn’t sure she would ever be able to truly trust anyone again.

Not their words, at any rate.

If Tessa had learned anything from this it was that talk was meaningless. Boyd had spent years telling her what she wanted to hear. Carter Macmillan had just hurled accusations at her hoping that she’d slip and give him more information.

Dylan had cut and hit her, offering her nothing but pain and fear. Rhys had cleaned her wounds and held her while she cried. They’d both showed her who they really were without saying a single word.

“Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

He looked at her for a long moment. His expression never changed but Tessa could swear that she saw a hundred different emotions flash in his eyes.

“Anything,” he said.

“Why do you really care about what happens to me?” she asked.

His jaw tightened.

Shame
? Was that what she saw flicker across his face? It couldn’t be. What did Rhys have to be ashamed of?

“Because I understand you,” he said, his gaze struggling to stay on her.

Tessa leaned toward him. “You mean because you can read people so well?”

“No,” he said, his gaze intensifying. “You’re not the only person who’s done things they’re not proud of.”

It also seemed that she wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

“I’m sorry,” Tessa said. She meant it. She might have only been carrying this burden for the last couple of days, but already she knew how heavy it could be.

When he didn’t offer up any other explanation, Tessa reached out and cupped her palm around his knee. Strangely, it felt good to be the one doling out comfort for a change. Made her feel less like a victim and more like someone who had something to give.

Rhys stared down at her hand, but Tessa didn’t pull away. And for a long moment, neither did he. Then, suddenly, he stood up. Her hand fell away.

“I should get back to work,” he said, no longer looking her in the eye.

Tessa watched his back as he walked away, wondering if she’d done something wrong.

***

Rhys had been dozing for about an hour when Tessa’s piercing scream shattered the quiet of the dark bedroom.

He shot straight up in the chair by her bedside, his hand already sliding down to his side for his weapon.

His gaze darted from the windows to the door, but there was nothing to see. Everything was as it should be. There was no shattered glass, no attackers looming over the bedside.

There was only Tessa sitting up in the dead center of the mattress. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat. Her eyes were focused on something…someone…who wasn’t there.

She was still in a dream, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t break out of.

“Tessa,” Rhys said, trying to rouse her.

Her face snapped toward him. She screamed again, a sound so sharp with fear and pain that it cut him all the way down to his core.

Rhys slid onto the mattress and wrapped his arms around her body. She struggled violently, caught in the grip of the night terror. Her legs flailed and her fists beat his chest as she railed against the demons in her mind, but Rhys held tight.

“Tessa.” He said her name softly, over and over, until her fight began to fade away. She looked up at him and Rhys watched as a lucid light slowly came back into her eyes.

“Rhys?” She blinked a few times as she came back to herself.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Tears formed in her eyes, shining brightly in the dim glow of the room. She looked away and they rolled down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought I was back in…”

Her voice drifted off, and a silence fell between them.

He wouldn’t lie to her, wouldn’t tell her it was just a dream. Rhys knew better than that. He knew all too well what she was experiencing, her mind vividly replaying the trauma, trying to make sense of it.

He lifted one hand to brush back her hair, half afraid that she would pull away from the soothing gesture, but she stayed with him.

“You can tell me,” he said.

She lifted her gaze. There was a vulnerability showing in her face that pulled at the dead center of his chest.

“You’re not going to run off again are you?” she asked. There was a note of humor in her voice, but Rhys saw it for what it was—a defense mechanism.

“No,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He never should have left her side when she’d reached out to him earlier, but he’d been surprised by his reaction to her show of compassion. No one had ever tried to soothe his conscience before.

They’d only reminded him that he didn’t have one.

She met his gaze for a long moment before nodding her acceptance of his words. Rhys settled on the bed with his legs out in front of him and nestled her close, and waited for her to talk.

“I was back at Boyd’s house,” she said. “It seemed so real. It’s like my mind won’t let go.”

“It will,” Rhys said. “But it will take time.”

“Dylan was right in front of me, screaming at me again.”

Rhys cupped his hands over her shoulders. “Dylan is never going to touch you again.”

She was quiet for a moment. After a few breaths, he felt her muscles begin to relax a little.

“Did you know Dylan and I were actually friends once?” She paused again. “Well, at least I thought we were. We even went on a date.”

Rhys stiffened. The idea of Dylan getting close to Tessa only to turn around and torture her reignited his rage.

“It was just a dinner, and it was pretty obvious that we weren’t a great match,” she went on. “But now I’m pretty sure he only asked me because Anders told him to keep an eye on me.”

“Then he’s a fool,” Rhys said honestly.

There was no doubt that Tessa was beautiful with her expressive eyes and bow-shaped lips, but there was much more to her than that. He might have only known her for a day and already he could see just how special she was.

There was fight in her, sure, but that alone was nothing remarkable. The survival instinct in most people was pretty strong. When faced with pain and violence, Rhys had watched people fight and people run. Both reactions were effective, and there was no innate honor in either.

But Rhys rarely saw their humanity continue to shine so brightly underneath after the damage had been done. Tessa might have been hurt, but she would heal. Dylan Murtry hadn’t managed to break her spirit. As far as Rhys could tell, he hadn’t even been able to touch it.

And that was special.

Her eyes were still wet when she looked up at him again. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m ever going to trust anyone ever again.”

“You will,” he said, running his hands over her shoulders. He could feel the tension slowly melting out of her muscles. She leaned deep against his chest. “It will just take time.”