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The SUV skids to a stop beside me and two men jump out of the truck. “Drop the weapon!” one of them shouts, but I don’t flinch. I do as he says, seeing as he has his own drawn on me and I’m guessing he has better aim than I do.
“Are you Margaret Davis?” the driver asks, and I nod. The man, who seems to like yelling at me, comes and grips me by the arm, pulling me toward the back door of the SUV. He doesn’t say anything, and I crawl in obediently.
The only good thing that can come from this is if they send me home and Jen gets back to Mike.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as the car makes a sharp U-turn in the middle of the road.
“Back to the safe house.”
“Am I safe?” I can’t help the question. My life has been in peril for too long for my liking.
“You are,” the driver replies, and then we don’t speak the rest of the way. I stay quiet, taking in any details I can about the surrounding areas. There isn’t much to go on; it’s too dark for me to see anything.
We arrive at a small cabin. It’s surrounded by trees, and I find it ironic how homey it appears considering what it is. One of the men, the one who yelled at me and who has a particularly douchey haircut, opens my door and yanks me out. The driver comes around the back to flank my other side, and that’s when I recognize him—it’s the man I shot.
“Shit,” I whisper, and he smirks at me like he finds it funny. “I’m sorry for, uh…” I pause and gesture to him.
“For shooting me?” He smiles at me. He’s a good-looking guy with dark hair that’s nearly black, eyes a warm chocolate color, and two dimples that frame his grin.
“Yeah.” I chuckle when he lets out a soft laugh. “To be fair, you did shoot first.”
He tosses a look to Douchey Haircut, and I realize he was probably the one who shot me, which is confirmed when the guy in front of me says, “We didn’t intend for that to happen. We’re very sorry about that.”
I shrug, not sure how to respond. Oh yeah, no hard feelings. Not the first time someone’s shot at me without cause! (Insert laugh here.)
I follow them onto the porch and they walk right into the house. I hear a little baby babbling when I cross the threshold and know it has to be Benny. The living room floor has baby items scattered around and Jen is sitting close to him, her hair a mess and her face red from crying.
“Jen,” I say, relief apparent in my voice, and her head shoots up, her mouth opening in shock as she jumps off the floor. We both embrace in the middle of the room, and she immediately starts crying on my shoulder. I can’t imagine the stress she’s been dealing with.
“You’re okay. Mike’s waiting for you.”
“Ah, the elusive Ms. Davis.” A woman enters the room, and the two men who picked me up stand straighter.
“Who are you?” I ask, releasing Jen, who goes back to her son.
“I’m Agent James.” She’s tall and sharp, her suit pristine and her long blonde hair in a perfect ponytail. “I’m the lead on finding out where Agent Stokes is.”
“Can I see some sort of identification?” She looks almost amused by my question and holds a badge open. I analyze it like I know what I’m looking for and nod my head, confirming that she is who she says she is. Perhaps she’s just an excellent forger, but there’s not much I can do about that. She holds her hand out, and I shake it. “Why did you have to take Mike’s family?” I ask, anger in my voice.
“Collateral. I needed a way to track him down.”
“Fine, but now I’m here, so let them go. I’ll tell you anything you want.”
Agent James looks over at Jen and Benny and back to me, deciding if she can trust that I’ll hold up my end of the bargain.
“I don’t want to die. I’ll cooperate, I swear.”
She nods her head. “Fine. Agent Perk, take them.”
“Yes ma’am,” Douchey Haircut replies. There’s a slight tilt to his voice like he’s only appeasing a superior, and when he looks over at me, he smiles a smile that has my skin crawling.
I ignore it and say, “He’s at the gas station down the road. He’s alone.”
They leave quickly after Jen gives me a quick hug and whispers her gratitude to me. Agent James has me take a seat, and Agent Dimples—or whatever his real name is—stands beside her.
“So, tell me everything, starting with”—she sits up pin straight and clasps her hands over her crossed knee—“where Agent Stokes is.”
I stare at her and wonder what exactly she’ll do with the information I give her. I feel like I’m betraying him by tattling, but isn’t that what he told me I should do? Isn’t it the whole reason he let me go, or was it just to get me out of the way?
