The Bride's Secrets
Down the exterior steps. Quickly. She glanced back once to ensure J.T. was right behind her. He hadn’t slowed down or second-guessed the need to escape.
At least so far.
She hit the ground running. The dock was above their heads. They’d scarcely cleared the exterior maintenance area when she heard the exit they’d used reopen.
The iron stairs groaned with the weight of the enemy’s descent.
Damn, they were close.
“The water,” she said to J.T., knowing he would understand.
Eve rushed toward the bank that wound up to the dock. Her shoes bogged down in the damp earth. She hadn’t factored in today’s rain.
Her feet slid. She braced her free hand against the ground rising up to greet her and ordered her legs to keep moving.
Scrambling onto the dock, she regained her balance and rushed forward. The warehouse’s rear dock jutted out over the water. A single cargo boat floated in the calm waters. A boat would be handy about now but there was no time to attempt getting it started and backed away from the dock.
At any second the enemy would reach their position.
No time to evaluate the situation.
“Jump,” she ordered.
She shoved the Glock into her waistband and dropped feetfirst into the water. Instinctively, she held her breath just before the cool depth engulfed her.
A surge of water from her left told her J.T. had obeyed her command.
Something else that wouldn’t last.
A rip through the water jerked her attention to her right. She couldn’t see anything but she recognized the sound.
Gunfire.
Damn.
She dove deeper. Pushed through the dark depths, headed for the craggy shoreline in the distance. The goal was to get as far from the dock—and the reach of the enemy—as possible before surfacing.
J.T. cut through the water next to her.
She hoped like hell his strength would hold out.
Her lungs burned.
Just move.
She pushed harder.
Bullets sliced through the water.
To her right…too close.
Damn.
She swam harder. Kept her body beneath the murky surface when the urge to rise grew stronger.
Fight the urge to breathe.
Push! Keep going!
One last lunge forward.
She needed air.
Her face broke the surface.
Gasping for oxygen, she swam hard. Stroke after stroke. Harder. Push!
Her fingertips brushed the rocks of the shore.
Almost there.
Where the hell was J.T.?
She whipped around.
He’d surfaced, was breathing hard. Not close enough for her comfort.
The dark figures on the dock were still firing. The bullets cut through the surface of the water. The muffled sound told her they were using silencers.
That was to her benefit. Silencers decreased the accuracy of every shot and lessened the range. Still, they weren’t in the clear just yet.
She grabbed for the rocks. Scrambled through the darkness. Bumped her knee on a boulder. Cursed. Move! Move!
Burrowing into the waist-deep grass, she crawled forward. Faster. Pushed harder. She needed as much distance as possible.
Shots pinged on the rocks.
She zigzagged to avoid any stray shots that made it this far.
J.T. scrambled alongside her.
He was breathing hard.
They had to stay close to the ground until they reached the next row of warehouses. Even though she was relatively certain they were out of range at this point, she wasn’t taking any risks.
And she wasn’t slowing down.
J.T. had to keep up.
The splat of a bullet hitting the ground next to her had her rolling left. Maybe they weren’t completely out of range.
She bumped J.T. He grunted.
His injured arm. Damn it.
She could apologize later.
Half a dozen more yards.
Almost in the clear.
As she reached the cover of the alley between the first two warehouses, she tensed.
Silence.
She glanced back at the dock.
Deserted.
The enemy was on the move.
Time to run.
Her car was parked another block down.
Pushing to her feet, she sprinted forward. The wet bag dragged at her shoulder. Her soggy shoes weighed down her feet.
She ignored both.
By the time she reached the lot where her car was parked, she had dug the keys from her pocket and clicked the fob.
Seconds later she was behind the wheel.
She hit the ignition as J.T. collapsed into the passenger seat.
Tires squealed as she spun out of the parking slot.
“What the hell did you do to me?”
From the corner of her eye she watched him shake his head in an attempt to clear it.
He wouldn’t be happy when she told him about the tranquilizer.
She’d needed him cooperative; otherwise no plan would work. A drug-induced state of unconsciousness had been the fastest and most efficient method to ensure his continued solidarity.
“I can’t really talk right now.” She weaved into the right lane as the street widened to four lanes. What she needed was traffic. It was Saturday night—shouldn’t be that difficult to find as soon as they were out of the old warehouse district.
A glance in the rearview mirror warned that their unwanted company had caught up.
Sensing her tension, J.T. turned to peer over his left shoulder.
“I hope you have a plan B.”
She shot him a look. “There’s always plan G.” Then she pulled the Glock out of her waistband.
Cutting the steering wheel left, she slid between two vehicles. Veering then to the right, she put several cars between hers and the enemy.
She was betting they wouldn’t pull out the firepower in the open like this, but a woman could never be too sure when it came to an unknown enemy.
Deep blending was the way to go.
Two traffic lights ahead the marquis of a movie theater provided exactly the opportunity she was looking for.
The digital numbers of the dashboard’s clock indicated it was just past midnight. Perfect timing. The late movie would be purging its audience into the crowd of teenagers who liked hanging out in the parking lot.
Plenty of cover for blending in.
She took a hard right onto the property that sported a twelve-screen theater, numerous fastfood hot spots and a chain superstore. Speeding across the lot, she selected a lane of parking slots. Pulling in as close to the theater entrance as possible, she shut off the engine and reached for her door.
“Let’s go.”
Thankfully he didn’t argue.
Rounding the hood of her car, she shoved the Glock into her bag, then wrapped her arm around J.T.’s and merged into the milling crowd.
With her free hand she finger combed her long hair. It was soaked, as were her clothes. Her shoes squished with every step. The kids she bumped into noticed, gave her the death ray.
They just didn’t know.
As she and J.T. moved in closer to the building, she grabbed a baseball cap from an innocent bystander. The crowd made it easy. The kid who owned the cap had made it even easier by stuffing it bill first into his waistband at the small of his back.
Pushing through the loitering crowd, Eve made her way to the side of the building next to the main entrance, pushed J.T. against the wall and dropped her bag to the ground. She peeled off her T-shirt and let it join her bag on the pavement.
His gaze instantly zeroed in on her breasts, where the camisole she wore had glued to her skin like an extra layer. A zing of desire shot through her veins.
Not the time.
With a flick of her wrist, she twisted her hair up and clamped the cap atop the blond mass.
“They’re coming,” J.T. muttered as he gazed at some point beyond her.
“Yeah, I know.” She planted her palms against the wall on either side of him and leaned in. “Keep your eyes open. Let me know when they’re inside.”
Then she planted her lips on his.
Chapter Four
Two weeks.
Fourteen days and nights.
J.T. had yearned to feel her lips against his…had ached to touch her…to hold her.
He forgot all about her order. His eyes closed. His arms went around her. The move was pure instinct.
He’d fallen so fast, had loved her so damned much.
But that had been before.
Before she’d stood him up on the most important day of their lives.
His eyes opened.
Fury firmed his resolve.
She tensed, sensing his change.
He clutched her waist. Pushed her a few inches away.
“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, his voice thick with the need throttling through his body.
“Did they go inside?”
He blinked. Her focus was on the now…the situation. He should have known he was the only one affected by the meshing of lips.
Stupid, J.T. Truly stupid.
The idea that bullets had been flying around them as they’d fled that warehouse suddenly bobbed to the surface of all the questions and emotions churning in his confused brain.
He cut his attention to the building’s front entrance. Three of the five who’d followed them from the dock pushed their way into the theater’s lobby. “Three just went inside.”
“One or more will be sticking with my car.” She kept her gaze carefully locked on his. “You don’t see number five?”
“Wait.” His gaze clocked the movements of an older man, one who definitely didn’t fit in with the teenage crowd all around them. “He’s moving in the opposite direction.”
“Excellent.”
She grabbed his hand and started cutting through the crowd. He shouldered between the bodies, staying close behind her.
He had questions for her. So damned many questions. Those would have to wait until they were out of immediate danger.
Could she be telling the truth?
Why would these guys be after him?
He’d worked a couple of Colby Agency assignments with two of the other investigators but nothing on his own yet. He’d made no enemies in that short time or on either of those assignments. His former career in insurance had been as a claims investigator. He’d certainly made no enemies there. His work had been straightforward—review the closed files and ensure that the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed.
J.T. shook off the situation analysis. Tried to think clearly about the moment.
No matter how he weighed it, he shouldn’t be here with Eve. What was he doing following her? Whatever she was into had nothing to do with him. Obviously she’d drugged him. The knock on the head wouldn’t have dulled his reactions to this degree.
When he would have stalled to demand more answers, she took a left, headed for a couple of teenagers loading into a minivan.
“Hey.”
The kid climbing behind the wheel looked back.
“Can you give us a ride?”
J.T. started to advise Eve not to waste her time. The driver looked ready to bolt. As he well should. Giving rides to strangers was a bad idea.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks,” Eve tacked on.
The driver exchanged a look with his passenger, who’d already climbed into the van.
Eve pulled a couple of bills from her shoulder bag. “Two if you hurry.”
The driver stared at the cash and licked his lips. “You have to pay me now.”
“Are you crazy?” the passenger muttered to his friend.
Eve handed the driver a hundred. “One now.” She reached for the van’s sliding door. “One when we get to our destination.” She opened the door and climbed in before he’d had time to answer.
This was insane, but J.T. climbed in behind her all the same.
“What the hell you doing?” the passenger asked the driver. He was clearly a lot more rational than his friend.
“Just shut up,” the driver advised as he backed out of the space.
For J.T.’s eyes only, Eve pointed to the car she’d parked a couple of lanes away. Sure enough, a man loitered next to it.
J.T. couldn’t deny the threat had been real. But he was certain this wasn’t about him, despite what she had said.
“Where to?”
Eve turned her attention to the driver.
Before she could answer, J.T. gave the kid the address of the closest police precinct. “I’ll give you twice what she offered if we go there first.”
“You got it, mister.”
Eve glared at J.T. “You’re going to make this hard, aren’t you?”
He cut her a sideways glance. “I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t care. But, for me, it’s over.”
That she winced on the final word shouldn’t have reached out and put a chokehold on his throat. But it did.
They were out of the parking lot and a full two blocks down the street before Eve reacted.
She scooted forward. “Don’t pay any attention to my friend,” she said to the driver. “We’re going to the Pier. You’ll drop us off there, and I’ll give you the other hundred, as agreed.”
“No way,” the driver argued. “He said he’d give me twice as much.”
Eve reached into the bag she kept close to her side and withdrew the Glock. “But I’m the one with the gun,” she countered.
The kid’s head whipped to the right.
“Watch it, man!” his friend shouted.
Horns blared.
The driver turned the car back over the line he’d crossed.
“The Pier.” Eve reminded him. “Straight there.” She instructed him on the most direct route. “Make it fast, but stay close to the speed limit.”
Eve leaned back in her seat and divided her attention between the driver and J.T., but she kept the Glock aimed directly at him.
She was not happy.
Tough.
Neither was he.
She’d better brace herself. Once they were at their new destination, this reunion was over.
J.T. decided then and there that he no longer cared about the why. He’d spent two weeks tearing himself apart, desperately seeking the truth.
That was the moment the situation crystallized: in a stranger’s minivan with the business end of a Glock directed at him.
It didn’t matter why. She had dumped him. Disappeared. It was over.
Who she was or what she was into had nothing to do with him, no matter what she said.
He hadn’t recognized the five men who’d shot at them, then gave chase. He damned sure didn’t recognize the woman sitting a scarce eighteen inches away.
Long, silent minutes later the driver took the final turn to the Pier.
“Drive to the end of the block,” Eve instructed, breaking the long stretch of intense quiet. “We’ll get out at the intersection.”
“Whatever you say, lady.”
J.T. steeled for making his break.
His cell phone and wallet were missing. But he wasn’t concerned. He would find someone, even at this hour, around the Pier. All he needed was one minute on a cell phone, and help from the Colby Agency would be dispatched.
The van braked to a stop.
Eve shoved the second hundred at the driver. “Thanks, kid.” She reached for the sliding door on her side. “And remember, this never happened.”
The kid stared at the money in his hand. “That part could be extra.” His greedy gaze lit up with hope.
“That’s all you get, kid,” Eve warned. “Don’t push your luck.”
“But he said—” the kid started to argue.
“He,” Eve interrupted, “doesn’t have a weapon.”
The kid backed off. “Whatever you say, lady.”
J.T. got out on his side of the vehicle. He started in the direction of the Pier. Didn’t look back.
The van rolled away from the curb, passing him as it barreled forward.
“You’re making a mistake,” Eve shouted at his back.
He kept walking, refusing to spare even a backward glance.
She hustled up next to him. “You’re going with me, J.T.”
He didn’t slow his stride. “Not a chance.”
She stopped.
He kept walking.
The sound of a car door closing told him she’d gotten into one of the vehicles lining the curb.
Apparently she’d had a plan B. He hadn’t recognized the vehicle they’d left at the movie theater. Probably a rental. Who knew? He didn’t know her at all. Didn’t know what she liked…what she drove…that she had a fetish for guns.
Nothing.
He’d been a fool.
A few seconds later a car slowed on the street next to him. The passenger-side window powered down. “Get in the car, J.T.”
He ignored her order.
She braked hard, got out. “We’re wasting time,” she shouted over the top of the car. “Get in now!”
He hesitated, turned to stare at her. “Or what? You’ll shoot.” He sent a pointed look at the weapon in her hand.
She didn’t immediately answer.
“So shoot.” He turned away and started forward again.
“Give me two hours,” she called after him. “I’ll explain everything.”
Something had changed in her voice. There was a desperation there…a fear…almost.
He shook his head, wasn’t going to be fooled by her again. Whatever she said, this couldn’t have anything to do with him.
And he was out of here.
“J.T., please. I need your help.”
His step faltered. He told himself to keep walking, but his feet failed him.
“Just hear me out,” she pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Fury pulsed in his jaw. He wanted to pretend the past couple of months had never happened. That he hadn’t met and fallen in love with her.
The men who’d shot at them…the chase…zoomed into vivid focus in his mind.
She was in trouble. Obviously. Whatever it was about, she needed help. He couldn’t deny that singular fact.
Nor could he deny another glaring fact.
He couldn’t just walk away and pretend he no longer cared.
He did care.
Damn him.
Mentally kicking himself for being a fool, he changed directions and strode up to the car waiting in the street. The sparse traffic glided around her, the other cars’ occupants likely assuming the two were in the midst of a lovers’ spat.
He stopped at the passenger door and stared at her across the car’s roof. “Two hours,” he confirmed. “You have two hours to explain yourself, and then I’m gone.”
She nodded, her blue eyes wide with worry. Her blond hair was still damp and clung to her face like tendrils of silk.
He said nothing more. Got into the car.
She settled behind the wheel and put the vehicle in Drive.
“Where are we going?”
She glanced at him before rolling forward. “Where we should have gone two weeks ago.”
He frowned. Two weeks ago they would have gone on…
Their honeymoon?
Chapter Five
Crystal Lake, 2:00 a.m.
Eve parked beneath the canopy of trees near the rented cabin. The lack of moonlight left them in darkness, which was just as well, since she was relatively sure she wouldn’t like what she saw in J.T.’s brown eyes.
He hadn’t said a word since they’d left Chicago. Almost an hour later, her nerves were completely frayed. So many times she’d wanted to kick off the conversation. Just get it over with. But she couldn’t take the risk. She’d needed him away from the city, and the danger, before she reopened communication.
This far out he wasn’t likely to walk away.
She’d taken his cell phone and wallet. Until she had him convinced of her theory, she needed him basically at her mercy.
Shooting him wasn’t an option.
She got out of the car, reached into the backseat and grabbed her bag and stalked to the cabin. The honeymoon arrangements had been her idea. Convincing J.T. to stay close to home after the wedding, owing to her work commitments, had been easy enough. She’d rented the cabin for a month, rather than the weekend she’d told him about. Having a backup plan was her motto. She never left home without one.
Digging the key from her soggy bag, she breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in weeks. Two to be exact.
But this was far from over.
“If this is a joke, I’m not amused.”
It wasn’t a joke and she wasn’t amused, either. This was about survival.
“We can talk inside.”
She pushed through the door and left it open. If she was lucky, he would follow without any additional persuasion.
But then—she flipped on a light and turned to wait for his entrance—she’d never been one to wait on luck. Her fingers itched to reach into her bag and grab the Glock, make this easy.
Easy wouldn’t work with J.T. He had to come around on his own terms. She’d learned that, if nothing else, in the couple of months they’d spent together.
Tall and gorgeous as ever, he loomed in the doorway, his T-shirt still damp and clinging to his chest. The bloody stain on his left sleeve a reminder that he’d been injured. She didn’t know all the details related to last night’s attack, but she was certain the incident had nothing to do with their situation. He’d mentioned the head of the Colby Agency’s grandchild. Maybe the injury had something to do with that.
Before she could stop herself, her gaze had traveled down the length of him. From his dark hair and eyes to the still-soggy trousers molded to his muscled thighs. Her pulse skipped in spite of her determination not to react to him physically. Apparently that wasn’t a facet of this situation she had under control just yet.
That was something else she’d learned recently. She wasn’t completely immune to certain…things.
And he was one of them.
Just when she thought maybe she might need her Glock after all, he stepped into the room and closed the door. Would wonders never cease?
He’d promised her two hours. The clock was ticking.
Eve tossed her bag onto the sofa and plowed her fingers through her hair. It was almost dry now, but it smelled like nasty harbor water. “There’s a change of clothes in the bedroom.” She nodded toward his arm. “You should probably shower and clean up that wound. I’ll make some coffee.”
He looked around the room. It was the perfect getaway. That was why she’d chosen it. The small but upscale kitchen with an intimate dining spot included a magnificent view of the trees and mountains surrounding them. A cozy living room with a fireplace—not that they would need it in July—comfy leather furniture, no distractions. No television, no VCR, no radio. Just a CD player with a collection of let’s-make-love music. And wine. She had made sure there was wine and food, along with a couple of changes of clothes. She knew his size…by heart.
“Then,” he said, that dark gaze colliding with hers, “I’m going to ask questions and you’re going to answer them. All of them.”
He gave her his back and headed for the only other room in the cabin: the bedroom suite. Jacuzzi tub, a shower large enough to dance in. And a massive king-size bed surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows.
Not exactly your regular, everyday cabin.
This one was designed and furnished for making memories.
The forever kind.
Eve hadn’t made a forever kind of memory in her entire life.
Starting now would be a mistake.
J.T. PEELED THE BANDAGE from his biceps. Winced. A little bleeding from the physical exertion in the water, but he’d live.
He tossed the soiled bandage into the trash and stared at his reflection in the mirror. What the hell had Eve gotten herself into?
The better question was, what the hell was he doing in the middle of it?
He braced his hands on the counter and closed his eyes against the light. The water was running in the shower but it would have to wait. He badly needed to pull himself together here. She’d drugged him. He didn’t have to confirm his suspicion. The grogginess and slowed reactions were confirmation enough.
He’d lost an entire day of his life. That much he’d figured out. Ian had dropped him off at his place last night, technically night before last, since it was past midnight. Someone had attacked him in his own house. He remembered absolutely nothing after that until he woke up in the warehouse.