Into the Lair fmg-2 Page 4

  Braden cracked the window, angled his rifle and squeezed off several rounds. Ian checked his rearview mirror to see one of the SUVs hit the ditch. The bad news, however, was that two more had joined the chase.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ian swore.

  “I’d say the airport is out,” Braden said as he steadied himself for another shot. “We’re going away from Delta, and it’s not like they’re going to let us on a plane to calmly fly out of there.”

  “Aren’t you the observant one,” Ian said snidely.

  “Can we dispense with the adolescent bickering and get the fuck down the road?” Katie bit out.

  “Aah, I’d almost forgotten about her,” Braden said cheerfully as he took out another SUV.

  “We’re saving your sweet ass, so I don’t want to hear any bitching,” Ian said in a tight voice.

  She snorted. Actually snorted.

  “Would you like me to let you out so you can hitch a ride with your buddies back there?” Ian asked.

  Braden arched an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at Ian. Ian ignored him.

  “Don’t expect me on my knees with gratitude. I don’t know who the hell you are, only that you’ve chased me all over St. Louis, you drugged me, tied me to you in my bed and stole my cash. Now you show up here in Colorado and tell me Gabe sent you. That’s the only reason why I didn’t take your goddamn heads off back there.”

  Ian laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “You talk big for such a little woman.”

  He heard her hiss of anger and smiled even bigger, and all the while, Braden was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “Need I remind you that there are people behind us that would love to reshape our bodies with assault rifles?” Braden pointed out.

  Ian grunted and focused his attention on the road. He needed to lose these assholes and fast. Preferably before they picked up a police tail. And then there was the problem of their pilot waiting at the airport. They couldn’t very well lead de la Cruz’s men to the airstrip and expect them to let the airplane take off. Which meant that their departure from U.S. soil was going to be delayed.

  This was turning into one long-ass mission. Goddamn Gabe. Why the hell had he kept Katie a secret, and what the hell kind of mess had he dumped Ian and Braden into by asking them to protect her?

  This was supposed to be easy. He’d thought it no less than a dozen times since this shitstorm had started.

  “They’re slowing down, Ian,” Braden said.

  Ian checked his rearview mirror to see that, sure enough, they were putting more distance between them and their pursuers. He frowned. Why were they giving up?

  Katie cautiously rose and glanced back at the fading vehicles. Evidently satisfied that it was safe to sit up, she reclined rigidly against the seat. Ian watched her in the rearview mirror out of the corner of his eye as she gave a weary sigh and closed her eyes.

  She looked exhausted. It was obvious she was in a great deal of pain. Unexpectedly, his gut clenched. What had the little bastard done to her?

  If he’d expected her to be an easy acquisition—and he had—he’d never been more wrong in his life. She wasn’t a shrinking violet. She had courage—and a spine made of steel. Some of his earlier annoyance faded. He admired guts, especially in a woman who looked way too small to ever fend for herself.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  She opened one eye and stared back at him. “Honestly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No. But I’ll get there.”

  His lips quirked upward in a smile.

  Braden turned in his seat to stare at Katie. “What the hell did you do to Ricardo de la Cruz, lady?”

  “The name is Katie. Use it.”

  He gave her a lazy grin. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered.

  Ian chuckled under his breath. Braden the babe magnet was failing in the charm department.

  “Look, can you just pull over and let me out?” she asked. “It’s obvious neither of you understand the seriousness of the situation. Maybe you have time to sit around and make stupid remarks and laugh at your own lame-ass humor, but I really need to put as much distance between me and Ricardo de la Cruz as possible.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed. “Keep your panties on. Braden’s way of dealing with any tense situation is with lameness. What can I say? He’s a lame guy.”

  “Hey, fuck you,” Braden said. “And good God, don’t tell me you’re getting a sense of humor in the middle of a mission gone to shit.”

  Ian ignored his brother. “We hauled your pretty ass out of Ricardo’s grasp, so the least you can do is show a little gratitude.”

  Her mouth gaped open. It was a pretty mouth too. One he could easily fantasize about. He blinked as the absurdity of his thoughts hit him.

  “You pompous, dumb-as-shit moron. If it weren’t for you, Ricardo would have never caught me. I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d be halfway across the country with money and means of transportation.”

  She heaved a breath, and he saw her wince, but her face was mottled with anger, and her eyes glittered.

  “And as for hauling my ass anywhere, I had already taken Ricardo down and escaped through a window, thank you very much. I’d gotten over the wall and would have escaped the grounds on my own. Where the hell do you get off thinking you’re some kind of goddamn hero when all you’ve done is cause me endless pain and grief at that asshole’s hands?”

  “This would probably be a good time for you to shut up, dude,” Braden said out of the corner of his mouth as he surveyed Katie with an amused expression.

  Suddenly Braden’s head snapped back as Katie decked him. All amusement vanished, replaced by astonishment.

  “She hit me!”

  “Let. Me. Out. Now.” Fury glinted in her eyes as she gave her dictate through gritted teeth.

  Ian didn’t know whether to throw back his head and laugh his ass off—and he probably would if he wasn’t sure she’d deck him next—or gag her. He was seriously leaning toward the latter.

  “I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with us.” He stared at her in the rearview mirror. “Gabe asked us to come,” he said quietly.

  Raw grief swamped her eyes. “Is he alive?”

  Ian hesitated a moment too long. He watched her fold inward, hunching her body into a ball. She turned her face away, pressed her cheek into the seat and closed her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, though he doubted she heard him.

  He exchanged uneasy glances with Braden then returned his attention to the road. He listened for the sounds of her weeping, but she didn’t make a single peep.

  Every once in a while he glanced back at her, but she remained huddled against the seat, her expression one of deep pain.

  Something in his chest softened. She was prickly as hell, but then who could blame her? She was right. He and Braden had likely been the cause of her falling into de la Cruz’s hands, and she’d suffered a lot at those hands.

  His jaw tightened as his gaze flickered over the bruises on her face and neck. He’d like to meet up with Ricardo. Severing the asshole’s dick with a rusty knife held a certain appeal.

  At some point she drifted off to sleep. Her body language changed from the tense, defensive don’t fucking touch me stance to a more relaxed posture. Her eyelashes rested on her cheeks, but even in sleep, there was such an expression of sorrow that it formed a knot in his throat.

  “What the hell are we going to do with her?” Braden murmured.

  Ian looked at his brother in surprise. “Nothing’s changed. Esteban is still our priority. We get her the hell out of the country then wait for him to make his move.”

  Braden nodded, but something in his expression bothered Ian. Neither of them could afford to grow soft. Not when so much was riding on them finding a cure.

  Remembering their pilot, he yanked up his cell phone and put in a quick call. Ian didn’t want to be exposed for a prolonged per
iod of time. The more time they spent on the ground, the more likely they were to have run-ins like they had with de la Cruz and company. But at the same time, he didn’t want to risk their pilot landing in an area where they would have to risk their asses to fly out of.

  After he explained the problem, the pilot suggested a rendezvous at a small airstrip outside Chama, New Mexico.

  It was a long-ass drive, and he and Braden were both fighting the effects of the sedative, but they couldn’t afford to stop.

  He glanced one more time back at Katie. Hopefully she’d sleep for a good long while. The sooner they got her on the plane—preferably without any more drama—the better.

  Chapter Seven

  Katie stared dully out the window as the scenery passed in a blur. Dead. Gabe was dead. She’d known it when he hadn’t called, but hearing it confirmed sent a fresh wave of grief splintering through her system.

  Dusk had fallen, and the stars were gradually popping in the sky. She’d listened as the two men murmured between them, but they hadn’t said anything that told her who they were, why Gabe had sent them to her nor had they given her any indication she could trust them. She knew their names only from listening to their conversation, but nothing else. Gabe had never talked about his teammates. Once he’d mentioned someone named Eli, but that was it.

  She assumed they were brothers because of the strong resemblance. Both had black hair and green eyes, though Braden’s were a lighter shade than the deep emerald of Ian’s. They obviously took their military training to heart because they were built like brick houses. Ian was taller than Braden, but Braden was the stockier, more muscular of the two.

  Clearly they were the lesser of two evils. No, she wasn’t entirely sure of their motives or intentions, but she knew what her fate was with Ricardo. That in itself was good enough reason to go along for the ride. Ian had seemed appalled by her bruises, so maybe he wasn’t a complete dickhead.

  She dragged a tired hand through her matted hair. Dried blood was smeared on her fingers, and her arm screamed as she tried to figure out how injured it was. It didn’t feel broken, but it was swollen. Just great.

  Her ribs protested as she gently probed. Breathing was painful but not hindered. All in all, she was damn lucky to escape with only bruises.

  She closed her eyes briefly and sucked in her breath. When she opened them again, Braden was staring back at her.

  “You okay?” he asked in a tone that suggested he actually gave a damn.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

  He turned to Ian as though she hadn’t spoken. “We need to stop. She’s a mess, and we need to make sure her injuries aren’t severe.”

  She aimed a glare at the back of his head. Funny how he hadn’t appeared very concerned with the severity of her injuries when he’d tossed her over his shoulder and bounced her to hell and back.

  On the other hand, if they didn’t stop, she couldn’t very well escape. Granted she’d like to be a little further away from Ricardo and company before she bolted, but she’d take whatever opportunity was presented.

  Gabe sent us.

  Why?

  Did she want to know? And did it matter now that he was dead? She was on her own. Not that she hadn’t been for the last few years, but there had been comfort in knowing that Gabe was a phone call away, that if she really needed him, he would come.

  Trust no one. Ever.

  Gabe’s words came back to her. Words to live by.

  She glanced toward Ian and Braden again as they went back and forth as to whether they were going to stop. She wasn’t a gut person when it came to forming opinions. Obviously she had the sense of a moron when it came to men. No, there wasn’t some nifty little feeling steering her emotions. She dealt in concrete evidence, and nothing had shown her that these men were anything but dangerous.

  A pitiful little moan worked its way past her lips. She was careful to make sure her gaze was focused out the window, so they wouldn’t suspect she was paying them any attention. She even managed an appropriate wince as she moved her arm, not that she had to work too hard, because damn, it really did hurt.

  She heard Ian sigh, and a few seconds later, he turned off the road. The headlights bounced over the wooded area as they came to a stop on the makeshift path.

  “I don’t want to stop anywhere close to a town,” Ian said gruffly. “We’re only a couple hours from de la Cruz’s place, and I’ll feel better when we’re a lot further. We’ll get you cleaned up and checked out, and we’ll worry about finding better accommodations later.”

  Said like she was a child in need of coddling after a bad fall. She blew out an exasperated breath and plotted her move. She studied the area. Lots of trees and brush. As best as she could tell, they’d already bypassed Nucla and Naturita and were probably approaching Norwood.

  Their size was to their advantage, though she’d already proven she was faster when she had a good lead. But they weren’t injured, and she was.

  Gabe sent us.

  She closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted to know why, but at the same time, she couldn’t discount what Gabe had drilled into her head. Trust no one.

  It had been proven to her over and over that trust was not something to be given lightly, if at all. She couldn’t even trust herself or her judgment, so how the hell was she supposed to hand her wellbeing over to complete strangers? Strangers who had drugged her, tied her and tackled her.

  No thanks.

  The SUV ground to an abrupt halt, jarring her uncomfortably. Before she could react, Ian got out and yanked open her door. As soon as he touched her, she shrank away.

  His stare grew menacing, but it was clear he wasn’t angry at her. No, he was focused on her battered appearance with a frown that would scare the hell out of the boogeyman.

  His touch grew gentle as he slid his hand up her arm. Then he simply reached in and picked her up off the seat. He carried her around back where Braden had popped the door.

  “I’m afraid this will have to do,” Ian said as he lowered her to sit just above the bumper.

  Her legs dangled over the edge of the truck, and he urged her to lie back. Panic set in as she processed the vulnerability of her position. Her hands flailed, but she found them restrained by his firm grip.

  “Look at me, Katie,” Ian said in a quiet, firm tone.

  She stopped for a moment, unwittingly lured by the strength in his voice. For just a moment, she felt safe. It had been so long since she’d gotten even a fleeting taste of what it felt like to live without fear that she grabbed on to the feeling and absorbed it hungrily.

  His eyes bore into hers. “I won’t hurt you, at least not intentionally. We haven’t gotten off to the best of starts, but I’m not a bastard who beats up women.”

  Her mouth went dry as his fingers slowly pulled at her shirt.

  “Shine the flashlight over here, Braden,” he said.

  Ian scowled when the beam of light hit the splotches of discolored flesh on her abdomen. In an effort not to make her uncomfortable, he tried to keep as much of her breasts covered as he could.

  It amazed him that such a slender, slight woman would have so much in the boob department, and he couldn’t help that his gaze kept returning to the lush mounds. If he moved his finger at all, it would brush the soft underswell.

  With gentle hands, he probed her ribs. She winced in a few spots, but it didn’t feel like she had broken anything. Satisfied that at worst she’d suffered painful bruising, he tugged down her shirt then turned his attention to her arm.

  The area above her elbow and the elbow itself was swollen. He could tell it hurt when he moved it, but she remained motionless and stoic.

  “This could use some ice,” he said as he carefully lowered her arm back to her side.

  She averted her gaze. “I’ll be fine. It’s not broken.”

  Braden reached out and ran his fingers lightly over her bruised cheek. His expression was bland, but Ian could see how tightly his jaw was drawn.

/>   “What does Ricardo de la Cruz want with you, Katie?” Braden asked.

  Her blue eyes became ice crystals. She visibly retreated behind a mask of indifference. It was a lot like watching a brick wall go up.

  Ian pulled a T-shirt from one of the bags then opened a bottle of water. He poured it over one corner of the shirt and set to work wiping the dried blood from the cut on her hand.

  She had small hands, dainty almost, and as soon as he made that observation he wanted to laugh. She was about as far from dainty as a woman could get.

  When he was through cleaning the wound, he let his hands trail down her leg until he got to her foot. It was dirty, and there was a large cut on the bottom. It had to hurt like hell.

  He felt her tremble when he began wiping at it, and he glanced back up at her to see that she’d relaxed her guard somewhat. Pain glittered in her eyes, and he was gripped by an odd, fierce rage for what she’d endured.

  How the hell did he know she wasn’t some drug-running floozie in league with de la Cruz? For all he knew, he and Braden had walked into the middle of a lover’s quarrel. Still, no matter what her sins were, no woman deserved to be a man’s punching bag.

  He swabbed the T-shirt over her small feet, and he was fascinated by the incongruity of her pink toenails. They looked decidedly feminine on a woman who was as prickly as a hedgehog.

  “Get me something to bandage her hand and foot with,” he said to Braden.

  Braden dug around in a first-aid kit, pulled out a roll of gauze and thrust it at Ian. Ian eyed Braden’s hand resting on Katie’s other knee. It was a possessive grip, and he moved his thumb in a soothing up-and-down motion over her skin.

  Ian rolled his shoulder then began winding the gauze around the instep of her foot. When he was satisfied with the result, he taped it and cut the end.

  He reached again for her hand that was now resting on her taut abdomen. For a brief moment, her fingers curled trustingly around his, but then she flexed them, the tips flying off the back of his hand as if she’d realized what she was doing.