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Authors: Sidney Bristol

BOOK: Shift
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“Don't know. Computer is wiped.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and glanced around.
“Guess.” She wanted an answer, damn it.
Emery's thumb swiped over her knuckles and she stumbled. She'd almost forgotten the connection in her distress. Heat unfurled low in her belly. She always reacted to Emery. It was an uncontrollable response. Roni was right. Tori probably just needed to get laid, but she hadn't been interested in anyone else for . . . God, months.
They walked in silence for a few moments. She glanced at Emery's face every couple of steps. The little lines around his mouth were the first indicator she'd picked up on when he was thinking through a problem. They weren't frown lines. More like . . . thought lines.
“I don't see CJ keeping the hit-team intel from us maliciously. He's been concerned about the lack of federal involvement with Evers, just like us. In his position, being kept in the dark, I'd want to keep the crew together and unified.”
“He didn't argue when Aiden and Julian said they were going to Orlando.”
“CJ's treading very delicately around Aiden.”
“He still thinks Aiden should have made Madison go into witness protection?”
“Yes.”
Aiden's new girlfriend, Madison, was the star witness in the case against Evers. Even Tori thought the woman should be under lock and key, but she respected Madison's determination to fight for what she wanted, which was a chance at a life with Aiden.
Tori and Emery's stride relaxed and their joined hands swung in time with their steps. If she didn't know better, this stroll could be out of her daydreams. A romantic walk with the leading man in her fantasies. The houses were even cute, the scent of flowers mixed with the ever-present scent of salt, and trees shaded them from the early afternoon sun.
“I like Madison,” Tori said.
The former housewife turned accountant-slash-roller derby queen wasn't as fragile as Tori had first assumed her to be. Madison didn't shrink from danger, especially when it threatened something she wanted. Like Aiden and the life she'd managed to put together following her messy divorce. It was hard not to like Madison, and that wasn't factoring in how she'd risked herself to save Roni's ass. In short, Tori owed her. But she didn't owe CJ a damn thing.
She shivered and glanced over her shoulder, but the street was quiet. If the hit team was following them, Tori knew she'd never see them coming. This wasn't the first time the Russian crime organization had tried to squeeze her or her sister for information. When their father had come to America to turn informant in exchange for their safety, he'd divulged many KGB secrets, but not all of them. Both the Americans and Russians had pressed Roni and her for the last bits. The Americans wanted to fill in what they didn't know. The Russians wanted to know what the Americans thought might be valuable. Truth was, their father hadn't confided a single thing to his daughters.
Tori just wanted the whole mess behind her. But it would never end. Her father's legacy would haunt her forever. It probably wasn't worth changing her name again, either. No matter how far she and Roni ran, where they went or how careful they were, eventually one side or the other latched onto them again. Working with the FBI was just the lesser of two evils.
“I'd be a lot more inclined to trust CJ if he were honest. Now . . . I don't know if we can trust him. Or anyone.” She didn't like admitting the truth. Trust was hard-won in her world, and she'd trusted CJ. Maybe more than she should.
“Me?” Emery swung his head toward her, pinning her with his gaze.
“Of course I can trust you.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hand, and damn it if she didn't feel those stupid butterflies doing laps inside her again.
Chapter Seven
Emery gripped the Tesla's steering wheel with both hands, grinding his teeth. Just who the hell was Leo and why did Tori know all about his secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere?
It was jealousy, and he had no right to the possessiveness clawing at his insides. Where was Leo now, when she needed backup? In jail. Which was probably for the best. Emery would enjoy punching the bastard far too much.
“There it is.” Tori stopped toying with her necklace and leaned forward, peering past the trees. She'd been relieved when he told her the necklace was clean.
The cabin was old, with peeling paint and a tin roof that was liberally patched.
“How exactly do you know Leo?” Emery asked.
“I told you. He races.”
“What else does Leo do?”
“Come on. Leo's a good kid. He just had a rough start is all. Don't be that way.”
Emery glanced at Tori and found her looking at him, mouth drawn down into a frown. He shrugged and studied the rickety shed and tin awning that probably served as the “kid's” shop, judging by the toolboxes.
“Leo's not a danger to us. He's all of twenty, no connections, no allegiances, no reputable enemies. There were some backwater neighbors that were giving him a hard time, but Roni and I took care of it. He just needs a break in life.” Her tone softened, almost as though she were talking about something else. Had someone given her a break?
Damn it. He should not be jealous of a twenty-year-old kid who lived in something that looked like a hard wind might knock it over.
Emery pulled the Tesla through the makeshift garage and partially into the area behind the house.
“I bet there's a tarp around here somewhere we can use to hide the car. I haven't been here in a while. Leo's really cleaned this place up.” Tori popped her seat belt and reached for the door.
Emery grabbed her wrist before she got it open.
“Let me look around first.”
“Seriously? Which of us is the field agent? Besides, no one knows about this place.” She pulled out of his grasp and pushed her door open.
Emery didn't correct her. He was field-rated, but unlike her, he worked alone.
He cut the engine and got out, sweeping the overgrown landscape for any signs of a human presence. There were too many places to lie in wait. He'd never been much for the outdoors, like Aiden, but he'd picked up enough skills in training and on the job to get by.
“You want to check the shed while I take the house?” Tori suggested.
“We'll do it together.” He bent and pulled his Glock from under the front seat.
“Where's mine?” Tori put her hands on her hips, glancing from the gun to his face.
“Later.”
“Fine.”
He'd packed the Tesla with a variety of supplies before he'd left that morning. A set of four handguns and a rifle were in a custom stash he'd put under the trunk. But to get to them they'd have to pull out everything they'd purchased on the way to the cabin. A threat might pick them off while they armed themselves. He'd rather take any danger head-on before it had time to get a better position.
Tori sighed and strode to the garage awning. She went straight to a toolbox and flipped the lid open, picking out a set of keys from a bunch of nuts and bolts.
“You know Leo well.”
“Well enough.” Tori chuckled and straightened. “He got trashed a few times and Roni and I drove him home. Showed us this hiding spot the first time. Back door or front?”
“Back.”
They stuck close to the side of the house. Tori slid the key into the lock and twisted it slowly. The bolt scraped as it slid free, announcing to anyone listening where they were.
Emery blew out a breath and nodded. Tori pushed the door open and he stepped into the open space, gun up. Leo might not be here, the hit team might not know where they were, but there were other threats. He wasn't about to walk into it blindly.
The kitchen was dingy. The white cabinets, counters, and floors were a beige color from all the gunk on the surfaces, and black grime clung to the joints and corners. Pots and dishes were stacked up in the sink, and a pan sat on the stove, full of something that had long since gone bad.
“Watch the door,” Emery said, pitching his voice low.
He advanced through the open doorway into the main part of the house, a dining room and living space combination. It was sparsely furnished, but the TV and game consoles spoke of a younger inhabitant. The first bedroom was more of a stockroom of car parts, while the second one was clearly where Leo slept. There weren't any signs of recent activity, much less nefarious goings-on. By all appearances, Leo was what Tori said he was. A down-on-his-luck kid who liked his car and games a bit too much.
“Clear,” Emery called to Tori.
“Good. Let's see what's in the shed. I'm starving. You should have gotten more of the pulled pork. That was so good.” She rolled her eyes upward and smiled, crossing to the second structure.
He glanced around, wishing there weren't so much cover for someone to watch them from. On the other hand, the cabin was difficult to get to and far enough out it was unlikely anyone would purposely come here.
“Wow,” Tori said.
“What?” He turned back to the shed and paused. “Shit.”
Though the exterior of the shed was questionable, it was clear Leo—or someone—had reinforced the structure from the interior. It practically gleamed with new fixtures, fresh drywall, and polished concrete. There was space to park a single car on one side, and a mat with a hanging punching bag that had seen better days.
“He's done some work in here.” Tori stepped on the slab.
Emery didn't have to wonder where she was headed. Tools were hung on the walls and the metal drawers no doubt held even more.
“We can park the Tesla in here. There's an outlet, so I can charge her.”
“Good thinking. I'd hate to have a low battery when we need her to run fast.” She turned in a circle.
Emery tossed the keys at Tori. She caught them with one hand.
“I'll carry the supplies inside. Can you park her?”
A wide grin spread across her face. “You bet I can.”
Damn, but he liked to see her smile.
Emery wasn't as possessive of his ride as the others on their crew. And Tori wasn't the others. She was Tori, and he knew getting behind the wheel of the Tesla would make her happy. It was worth it.
He gathered the bags from their supply run and carried them into the cabin while Tori stashed the car and got it charging. He knew she'd pop the hood and get her hands a little dirty. They could both do with a distraction, but not at the same time.
What separated Emery from a regular field tech was ingenuity. His value was the knowledge and preparation he could bring to his team. Without a laptop, regular connection to the Net and its resources, his options were limited. That didn't mean he was useless. He was still a field-rated FBI agent with enough training to get them through this.
The house wasn't exactly what he'd call a prime defensive location. The exterior was old, many of the boards rotting out. If they were pinned inside, bullets would tear holes through it like Swiss cheese. He moved the sofa and other furniture against the exterior walls, even dragging the mattress from the bedroom out into the main room for a quick escape if need be. At some point he heard the squeak of the back door and Tori moving around inside. He liked being under the same roof with her, even if the circumstances weren't ideal.
Given that the Russians weren't native Floridians, they wouldn't be at home in the Everglades and the swampland. Their approach would most likely come from the south and east. Of course, he hoped he and Tori were left alone.
“Are we having a slumber party in the living room?” Tori leaned against the kitchen doorway, a slapped-together sandwich in hand.
“Windows are boarded up in the bedroom.”
“Oh.” Tori blinked and her shoulders slumped. She stared at the wall, but it wasn't the hideous wood paneling she was seeing.
“What is it?” He paused in putting the cleanest sheets he'd found on the mattress.
“I didn't even notice. I'm so out of it.”
“It's okay.” He shrugged.
“No, it's not. I should have noticed something like that.” Under normal circumstances, he'd agree with her. They all went through the field training. One of the most important lessons was constant awareness of their surroundings. A fact like the bedroom being a kill chute should have registered, but Tori was under a great deal of stress.
Emery stepped over the corner of the mattress and crossed the floor to her until she had no choice but to look at him.
“You were in there for—what? A minute? You can't take it all in, not when you're still off balance. That's why I'm here. I've got your back. I'll keep you safe.”
“Fine. You're right.” Tori sighed and turned into the kitchen. “Want something to eat?”
“I'm good.”
“Well, I'm bored. No, I'm not bored. I just—want something to do.”
“Eat.”
“I am.” She glanced over her shoulder and took another bite, but it was lackluster and mechanical.
He followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to the refrigerator. The food and the clothes they'd picked up sat in bags on the table in the breakfast nook.
While Emery was used to sitting back and doing his thing alone, Tori was different. She was a creature of action, always in motion. He'd have to figure out how to keep her occupied. If she didn't have time to dwell on the danger to her life, things would go smoother. But how the hell would he accomplish that? All he had with him was a tablet, two phones, and a toolbox, besides a very small go-bag that had remained in the car. And guns. Couldn't forget the guns.
“Eat and we'll get the rest of the stuff.”
He hadn't brought the guns inside the safe house because he'd thought Tori and he would be untraceable. Now that he'd learned his lesson, they wouldn't be without a firearm close by. It was his fault for underestimating the threat. He'd failed her once, but not again.
“This isn't all of it?” Tori shoved the last part of the sandwich in her mouth.
“It's everything we bought. Good grief, don't choke on that. Come on.”
She fell into step behind him, following him out of the cabin.
“I like this new, more chatty you.”
“Chatty?” He swung his head toward her.
“Okay, so you're still the silent wonder, but at least I've got you speaking complete sentences. There's hope for you yet.” Her smile was bright, pleased.
He didn't talk much because what was he supposed to say to her? Everything that came to mind when she was around was completely inappropriate. He was guilty of single-minded thinking when she was around. Hell, if he did more talking she was likely to deck him for what he'd say.
They returned to the shed-turned-garage. It was clear from the setup this was a recent renovation. It was cleaner and the equipment much newer than anything else on the property. Tori crossed to the punching bag, took up a loose fighting stance and threw a few punches. He'd never seen her work out, only work on cars.
“We could spar. Don't you and Aiden box, or something?” Tori grasped the gently swinging bag and glanced at him.
The mental image of Tori covered in sweat, pressed up close as he pinned her arms and took her to the mat . . .
“No. Come here.” He popped the trunk on the Tesla and circled to the back of the car.
“No, you don't want to spar? Or no, you and Aiden don't box?”
“Both.”
“But . . . he's talked about you guys boxing.”
“We don't box.” No, the kind of fighting he and Aiden did had a lot less finesse. It was dirty and dangerous, especially for two disproportional people. Aiden he could toss to the ground and not worry about hurting. Tori, he'd crush her and not even mean to.
“There's nothing else in the trunk.” Tori wandered closer, not paying him much attention.
That was fine by Emery. He wasn't accustomed to having an audience, much less a constant presence around him. That it was Tori as his companion just made it worse. He had to keep his mind on the job of keeping her safe, and off her sweet ass.
“What the—?”
Emery pulled the modified bottom of the trunk up and out. Underneath were several boxes that fit together to make a new floor. He pulled out a rectangular box and handed it to Tori. The second box was long and skinny.
“You have guns stashed in your car?” Tori's jaw hung slightly unhinged.
“Yeah.”
“There goes the good computer-boy image. What else are you packing?”
He covered the rest of the boxes with the pull-out floor, smoothed the fabric in place and closed the trunk. There was no seam, no ripple in the upholstery to give away the secret cache. Just like he'd designed it. Truth be told, he was a little proud of this modification. Even Tori couldn't have done better work.
“Nice.” That one-word compliment meant more than it should. She jabbed him with her elbow. “Come on, you can tell me.”
“Nothing to tell.” He frowned, unsettled at the sense of satisfaction spreading through him. It wasn't enough to know his work was top-notch? Mentally he recognized the human urge for acceptance. He'd never gotten it from his parents. Teachers had never mattered. Now, it was different. He knew he'd done a good job because they were both still alive. And yet, he liked knowing Tori approved.

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