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“And if she knows, or even suspects too much?” Banks persisted in wanting to know.
Avery recognized Darren’s contemptuous sigh. “I’m not keen on prison any more than you. If necessary, we’ll arrange an accident and that’ll take care of the problem.”
The casual indifference behind his coldly phrased suggestion sent Avery reeling back a clumsy step. She bumped into the trash container, the metal bin thumping against the concrete wall reverberating in the cavernous garage, the loud report increasing her already escalated heart palpitations. Oh God, oh God, oh God. How could she have been so stupid? Men never took notice of clumsy, muttering geeks and none had ever shown interest in her past a few dates or one round of sex. Why hadn’t she remembered those hard-learned lessons when Darren started taking her out?
With her heart lodged in her throat, mind-gripping terror sent her fleeing back into the elevator, the doors swishing closed before either man came around the corner. That small boon in her favor was short-lived as she fretted over what to do and where to go. It would be her word against two seasoned detectives, so it didn’t take much thought to know she couldn’t turn them in without solid proof that couldn’t just as easily point the finger her way. After all, she was the one in charge of all evidence brought into the precinct and stored, as well as for logging everything into the computer.
One word kept pounding in her head as she dashed back to her office. Run… run… run
Avery jerked awake with a gasp, her perspiration-soaked body shivering from the remnants of the dream still too vivid in her mind. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked around the dingy motel room and tried to remember which city she was in, and what happened to set off the nightmare. And then it came to her in a fearful rush. I broke the law, I’m now a hacker.
She’d left Springfield three days after getting the job at Midnight Whispers, unable to continue talking with strangers who wanted nothing from her except enough titillation to get themselves off. She’d tried turning everything her benevolent mystery man taught her around the other way but had continued to fumble her way through short conversations that left her humiliated, despondent and feeling more alone than ever.
In Des Moines, she had been lucky enough to land a waitressing gig at a highway diner, the owner more than happy to pay her less than minimum wage in cash. After visiting the public library and using their computer lab to see what, if anything was going on in Chicago, she’d stuck around for ten days when nothing incriminating showed up in the papers. Since she’d left her phone off with the batteries removed after sending a quick text to her foster mother, Marci Devers in Florida before fleeing, she didn’t know if anyone else had tried to contact her and was too afraid to check. She couldn’t take the chance of Darren tracking her through her phone or taking a call from him. Not even a text. Her acting skills were nil; as Marci often pointed out, Avery wore her thoughts and emotions on her sleeve. There had always been few people in her life who mattered, or whom she mattered to, so there had never been a reason to learn the art of hiding what she was feeling.
And then, on her last day there, despair over having to move on again with no destination in mind or ability to get her life back prompted her to do the unthinkable; return to the library to hack into the precinct’s logs. Using her skills and some creative maneuvering, she unearthed another discrepancy between the items Darren and Chad turned into evidence and the suspect’s accounting of his stash. After noting the two similar inconsistencies were both from busts Darren and Chad had worked alone, she’d copied the data and fled, a new fear stemming from breaking the law pushing her to get out of Des Moines as fast as possible.
Sliding out of the lumpy bed, Avery hugged herself against the chill and peeked out the window to see light snowflakes falling. Shivering, she now recalled arriving in Sioux Falls, South Dakota yesterday afternoon, her first stop another library. A quick check of her email revealed the third message from her supervisor questioning her abrupt family medical leave request and sudden disappearance, but nothing indicating her snooping had been discovered. She felt bad for putting Susan in a bind; her boss had always been a pleasure to work for, understanding and supportive. But it was obvious Susan’s generous consideration had been wearing thin when she let Avery know she would offer her position to the temporary young employee filling in for her if she didn’t return on Monday.
Sighing, Avery rested her forehead against the cold glass windowpane. One of the hardest things Darren’s manipulations had forced her into was answering Susan with her resignation. At least she’d been smart enough, and quick enough to copy all of Darren and Chad’s evidence deposits, as well as the one transcribed interview of their suspect onto a flash drive before she’d fled after hearing them in the garage. If those files were erased or altered in her absence, she still held proof something was off with one, and now two of their raids and that the two were dirty cops. Not that it would stand up if it came to her word against theirs if they claimed she stole the evidence after they turned in the entire contents of their busts.
Start over, that’s what she needed to do. Find someplace new, far from Chicago, begin a new chapter in her life and pray Detective Darren Lancaster would forget all about her in time. Not that she would be memorable, only what she might, or might not know would be. Only one man had shown genuine interest in her, had given her his undivided attention, listened to her, cared enough to help her even though they were strangers over the phone. That accidental call had been the only shining beacon during the last weeks of living with never-ending fear and uncertainty and what still aided in getting her through the long, lonely days and insecure nights.
Padding across the room to the miniscule bathroom, Avery flipped the shower on and stripped off her sleep shirt. Stepping into the small, steaming cubicle, she leaned against the wall and lathered her hands, remembering how he’d ordered her to touch herself and her response to his commands. The memory alone warmed her, much more than any other time when she’d indulged in masturbation. None of her previous self-induced climaxes had come close to rivaling the off-the-charts response he’d led her into that had left her stunned and steeped in pleasure.
If you’re ever near Willow Springs, Montana, stop and ask for Grayson Monroe.
With each day that had passed since that night, the temptation to take Grayson Monroe up on his offer pulled stronger. The echo of his deep voice and her responses to both it and his commands still played through her head. Since being on the run, the only time she’d felt safe, the only time she hadn’t suffered the pangs of loneliness had been those two hours spent with him on the phone. Did he mean it, or had he been sending her off with a comment neither of them expected her to follow up on? And was she desperate enough, brave enough to find out?
Going to Marci was out of the question. The social worker who had been the only stable adult influence in Avery’s life as she grew up with an alcoholic single mother would welcome her with open arms, just as Marci had done every time Avery’s mother ended up in rehab. But Darren knew about her close ties with Marci and she refused to put the woman who had always been more of a mother to her than her own in jeopardy.
Avery dried off, got dressed and opened the bathroom door to scan the bleak motel room and wonder how much longer she could keep up with moving around, going from one meaningless job to another. She was a geeky IT tech, quiet and reserved unless playing online video games with people she didn’t know. She’d tried switching her wide-framed glasses for contacts and wearing her wavy, unruly hair down, but the small discs had irritated her eyes and her hair kept falling in her face as she’d worked, annoying and distracting her. Darren’s betrayal still cut her to the quick, but that was on her as she should’ve known the precinct’s hottest cop ha
d to harbor an ulterior motive for seeking her out and pursuing her with dogged determination and flattery she’d never gotten from another man.
As the approach of dawn lightened the pearl gray sky to a warmer amber glow, Avery made a snap decision, counted her cash and figured her expenses between here and Montana before she could chicken out. The bulk of her savings had gone to purchase the fifteen-year-old, clunky sedan she still couldn’t get used to after opting for public transportation the last ten years. She was okay out on the highway, in clear weather, but city traffic still made her a nervous wreck. She couldn’t afford to draw attention or questions by getting a ticket or into an accident. With just over an eleven-hour drive ahead of her, she figured she had enough to last her a week or two if she continued to live frugally and could pick up work soon after arriving in Willow Springs. Considering everything else, what did she have to lose?
The soft cry reverberating down from The Barn’s converted loft drew Master Grayson’s attention. His lips quirked around the toothpick nestled on the right side of his mouth as he caught sight of Sydney, Caden’s submissive strapped to the St. Andrew Cross, her petite white body attractively displayed, the light pink stripes decorating her skin from his flogger discernible even in the dim lighting shining from the rafters. Both he and Caden’s brother, Connor still found Caden’s recent tumble from bachelorhood amusing. Watching his friend succumb to her charming insistence a few months ago had entertained everyone in the club.
“I never tire of watching him with her,” Grayson said, flicking his gray/green gaze to Connor who stood manning the circular bar in the center of the lower floor. The rough-hewn walls of the old barn had been whitewashed, insulated and reinforced; the floors sanded and refinished to a glossy shine. The bathrooms were just one of the amenities they’d added when they’d undertaken the huge task of turning the dilapidated structure into a private club over seven years ago.
Connor didn’t bother tipping his Stetson back to get a better view of his brother when he glanced that way. “I’m happy for him, even if I did have to push him in her direction. She keeps things lively on the ranch.”
“I bet.” Grayson often listened to Caden’s constant grumbling about Sydney’s penchant for getting lost and pampering the farm animals with amusement, the way his rugged face would soften whenever he looked at her giving him away every time. They were all happy and relieved to hear her uncle, who had caused her such grief, was doing well in rehab and with keeping the new position in the family’s whole foods company his brothers had given him. It had taken aligning himself with the wrong person to wake him up to his destructive ways, but at least he was trying to make amends to the family, and niece he had wronged.
Swiveling on the barstool, Grayson leaned his elbows on the shiny, mahogany top and eyed Connor. “He’s a lucky man. Are you going to follow in his footsteps?”
Connor snorted and nodded to Master Dan seated at the end with his play partner for the night. “Coming up,” he called down when Dan signaled for his second drink. Drawing the beer, he answered Grayson with slow-drawled sarcasm. “Not hardly.”
“You know what they say when you fall off the saddle; it’s best to get right back on.” Grayson felt for Connor when he split with his long-time girlfriend, Annie last fall, but no woman was worth pining over for months.
“I can still ride just fine, thank you. Besides, I don’t see you hooking up with anyone for more than a scene or two,” he pointed out, sliding Dan’s beer down to him.
“Okay, you’ve got me there.” No use denying the truth, Grayson mused. He might limit his submissive picks to only a night or two of his dominance, but he made sure he gave them everything they desired, and often what they didn’t know they wanted. Which made the edgy dissatisfaction marring his recent enjoyment unexplainable. Hoping for a better outcome tonight, he asked, “Speaking of which, who’s still unspoken for?” He shifted his eyes to the dance floor where several couples pressed close together for the slow country western ballad pealing through high-tech speakers.
“Cassie was asking for you right before you came in.” Connor smirked with a glint in his blue eyes.
Grayson scowled at him. Connor was well aware he’d been avoiding the persistent blonde ever since she’d turned demanding and clingy after two scenes with her. “I’ll pass, thanks.” He spotted another sub, Nan, whom he knew enjoyed pain play and rougher scenes, just what he was in the mood for. “I see a leggy brunette who needs me.”
