Part 12 (1/2)

I nodded. ”Yep, but it turned out I liked to shoot people too much.” I gave a shrug. ”I was fired, but like I said, I'd made some contacts by then, and word got out that I was good at taking people out. So I became a hired gun. Money was better, and I could work my own hours.” I threw her a wink, and then instantly regretted my blase gesture. Her sister had been kidnapped by these people, and were after her blood, too. This wasn't a winking moment.

”You know, I don't get along with cops,” she said finally.

”You don't get along with anyone,” I quipped.

My words dragged a small laugh from her throat. ”You have a point there.”

”And anyway,” I continued. ”I'm not a cop anymore, so we're good?”

She pointed at me, and then back to herself. ”Apart from the 'trying to kill me' part, and the 'me stabbing you' part?”

I shrugged again. ”I'm not one to hold a grudge if you're not.”

”Oh, I hold grudges. I'm like an Olympic champion at holding grudges, but I don't think I've got much choice but to let this one go for the moment.”

I risked a smile. ”Good.”

I noticed how tired she looked, drained. Neither of us had slept in the past twenty-four hours, and I'd only had a couple of gulps of water. I doubted she'd had much more. If we were going up against someone like Tony the Hound, we needed to be feeling stronger than we currently were. I told myself this thought had gone through my head because of the practical issue of needing to be alert, and not because seeing Vee looking emotionally and physically exhausted had twisted something in my chest. I wasn't used to caring about other people-it was something I'd avoided, to the point of being unsure if it was something I'd even be able to do anymore.

I'd gone my whole life staying emotionally unconnected to anyone. I knew the reason why. My past had made me block off all connection, knowing that emotional attachment only meant pain. I felt like Vee had done the same thing, only not to the same extent. She obviously cared for her sister, even if she felt the emotion wasn't returned. I thought she was wrong on that point. I didn't know her sister, but anyone who had that amount of hatred for a family member did so because they still cared. Her sister acted as though she hated her because she was so badly hurt by what had happened. Had Nickie looked up to Vee, and seeing her do what she had meant she'd not only lost her mother in such a horrific way, she'd also lost the image she'd nurtured of her sister? I knew this because when I thought of my own 'family,' all I felt was a cold numbness.

I reached out and touched Vee's leg, my fingertips resting lightly on her jean-clad thigh, commanding her attention. ”Let's keep going a little farther until we come to a rest stop. I know you want to get to your sister, but we're not going to be any good to her if we're both exhausted and weak from lack of food.”

Her gaze moved from me and dropped to where my hand touched her leg. I froze, wondering if she'd shove me away, or allow me to give her this small amount of comfort.

Vee wasn't a woman who took affection easily.

Chapter Nineteen.

V.

The heat from his fingertips seemed to burn through the denim and onto my skin. A sudden and unexpected surge of l.u.s.t pulsed through me, starting from where his fingers touched my thigh, and condensing deep between my legs. My nipples tightened and crinkled, and I pulled away from him, dislodging his hand and angling my body slightly toward the driver's door so he wouldn't notice the twin bullets that had appeared beneath the material of my t-s.h.i.+rt.

What the f.u.c.k. Where had that come from?

I should be worrying about my sister, and if I'd live to see tomorrow, not thinking how it would feel if X shoved his hand between my thighs and released the tension building there.

What was it people said about intense, life or death situations, that it heightens everything? Makes you act erratically. That must be the explanation for my body's reaction to his hand on my thigh. It certainly hadn't been a conscious one from me, though his hand was attractive, with its long fingers, large palm, and clean, blunt nails. The hand matched its owner, his lean frame, the piercing blue eyes, the shadow of stubble that had crept across his chin and jaw since I'd first taken him captive. I liked that he took me seriously, and wasn't trying to treat me like some silly little girl, just because I was female.

”Sorry,” he said, taking his hand from my leg, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

He'd sensed something pa.s.s between us, too. Had it confused him as much as it had me?

I didn't know. He didn't have as much riding on this as I did. He was allowed to be distracted by something as base as s.e.x. It wasn't as though a member of his family was in trouble. I still wasn't completely sure why he was even helping me. Yes, he'd offered initially so I wouldn't leave him tied up in the cellar, but why was he still here now? I had a gun, but he was a lot stronger than I was, and realistically could have tried to wrestle it off me by now, especially when I'd been distracted by driving. Or else he could have pulled one of the guns from the bag at his feet and used it on me.

Part of me was tempted to ask him again, but I didn't want to sit here for hours in some deep and meaningful conversation. Perhaps I didn't want to know. Instead, I started up the truck again, and, after checking for traffic, pulled the vehicle out into the road. At least when I was driving, I could pretend to not be paying attention to, or thinking about, the striking, intense man sitting beside me.

As I drove, X kept turning around in his seat, or leaning to one side to see out of the window and up into the sky.

”You still think we're being followed?” I asked, unease threading its way through me.

”I think it's better to keep an eye out, just in case.”

I nodded, and focused on driving. Half an hour or so pa.s.sed by without event, us driving in silence, though tension still filled the interior.

”Look, there,” X said suddenly.

My first reaction was that he'd spotted someone following us, and adrenaline soared through me, making my heartrate jump, but then I realized he was pointing at a building on the side of the road which we were approaching.

”We need to refuel,” he said. ”Take a break. You'll be stronger for your sister that way.”

I didn't want to stop. I wanted to reach Nickie as soon as possible. I hated to think how frightened she would be. She'd be cursing my name, certain I was the one responsible for putting her in that position. I hated to think she might die with nothing but loathing for me in her heart. But at the same time, I knew he was right. I'd barely slept the previous night, and I'd only had the cup of coffee which I'd drunk with the deputy hours before. My temples throbbed, my whole body heavy, my eyes sore and gritty. The emptiness in my stomach felt like I'd been hollowed out, and acid burned the inside of my throat.

”Okay,” I conceded, signaling to pull into the diner. ”We take a break, but not for long. Deal?”

He nodded. ”Deal.”

I pulled into the parking lot, but instead of stopping out front, I drove the truck around the side of the building, where it would be hidden from the main road, and from the curious view of anyone eating in the place. There were only a couple of other vehicles already parked in the lot, and it didn't look like the sort of place locals would frequent. I was happy with that. Quiet worked well for me. I didn't like busy places at the best of times.

We climbed out of the truck. X was still favoring his bad leg, but not as much as before. I figured the a.n.a.lgesics had kicked in.

I was conscious of how we must look together, me with my tattoos and a hard edge to my face, him with his striking good looks and taped together clothing, both garnering attention neither of us wanted. A couple of people glanced up at us as we walked in, but otherwise everyone went back to their meals.

We separated to use the bathrooms, and I took the time to wash up. I came out to find X had already gotten a table right at the back, and within a minute a young waitress was beaming down at us, a notepad in her hands.

”Hi, guys, what can I get you?”

”Coffee and water,” I said.

”And a couple of cheeseburgers with fries,” X added.

I raised my eyebrows at him. ”I'm capable of ordering for myself.”

He grinned. ”I wouldn't dream of ordering for you. Those burgers are just for me. Do you know how long it's been since I last ate?”

I repressed a smile, and looked up at the waitress. ”I'll have a cheeseburger, too, thanks.”

”Sure. I'll be right back with your order,” she chirped then hurried away.

I removed the cell phone the gangster had been using to contact me on and placed it in the middle of the table. Part of me hoped it would ring again, while the other part prayed for it to remain silent. We'd gone about an hour of the instructed two hour drive east, so I knew he would be calling again soon with further instruction.

”I know it's hard,” said X, ”but try to relax for a while. Zone out, if you can. Switch off your brain. We all need that time out so we can concentrate better when needed.”

I knew he was right. I felt like I'd been on a constant rollercoaster, not just over the past twenty-four hours, but the past few months.