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“Look at the fence and tell me there’s nothing out there.”
Rachel looked at the expensive iron fence that was weaved with barbed wire and thought Shane might have a point. She pulled the car onto a dirt drive and stopped at the gate. An electric keypad sat off to one side, so she rolled down her window and entered the code Jones had given her, keeping her fingers crossed that it worked and a team of FBI agents wasn’t about to swoop down on them.
The gate opened slowly in front of her and she drove the car through. She needed a shower, a hot meal, and a big glass of wine. Rachel looked over at Shane and saw he was slumped forward, only his seat belt keeping him upright. She reached over and touched his forehead. He was burning with fever and his face was flushed. The other things could wait. Shane was her first priority. If only she could find the stupid house.
Rachel drove down the dirt path for more than a mile before seeing anything other than waist-high grass and wheat. A big red barn came into view, and it looked to be in bad shape. Windows were broken and wood had rotted away, leaving holes large enough for a horse to walk through. But the dirt road continued around the side of the barn, so she kept following it and ended up inside the barn itself.
She was in a garage of some sort and there was a perfectly sturdy-looking wall right in front of her. There was a thick metal door with no doorknob and a keypad similar to the one at the front gate next to it. It looked like the old barn was just a cover for the real safe house. She put the car in reverse and pulled out of the garage, turning the car around so she could back it in—just in case they needed to make a quick getaway. She’d learned that little trick early on in her attempts at running away.
She assumed the keypad used the same entry code as the front gate and typed it in. A little green light flashed above the door and she heard the snick of a lock. She pushed open the door, unsure of what she’d find waiting for her on the inside, considering what the outside looked like.
It was a small space, but it was clean and there were no holes in the walls. After staying at Jake’s otel almost anything would be an upgrade, but this would do nicely. She went back to the car and tried to wake Shane. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath but didn’t open his eyes.
“Come on, tough guy. I need your help here,” she said as she moved under his arm and tried to pull him out of the car. The man was solid muscle and had a good hundred pounds on her.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“Yeah, you’re a real catch right now.”
He stumbled against her as she walked him into the house and closed the metal door with her foot. She led him into one of the two bedrooms and laid him down gently on the bed. He was burning with fever and hot to the touch. She had to get him out of his clothes and cool him down. And then she had to figure out what to do about the wound in his shoulder.
Rachel turned to get the bag of supplies out of the car, but a strong grip around her wrist stopped her in her tracks. Shane pulled her down so she was sprawled on top of him.
“Don’t leave,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
His grip was powerful, bruising, and it amazed her how much strength he had even in the condition he was in.
She tried to soothe him as best she could. He was getting agitated and tossing and turning on the bed, no doubt because of the fever.
“I’m not leaving. I just need to get a few things to make you feel better.”
“Promise me,” he said, increasing his grip till she yelped at the sting. “Everyone I love is always leaving me. Can’t take it anymore. Hurts too bad.”
Rachel assured herself that he didn’t know what was saying, but it was still a nice feeling for him to believe he loved her. “I promise I won’t leave you.” She bent her head and kissed him softly on the cheek.
Rachel ran and got the bags out of the car and dropped them in the dining room. Wildcat’s instructions rang in her head, and after the day they’d just had she didn’t want to take any chances, so she double-checked the door locks and looked around the house for an alternate way to enter. Or exit.
The place was very plain, laid out like a small two-bedroom apartment. The floor and walls were beige, as were the countertops and bathroom fixtures. She didn’t find any other doors or windows in the house. There was only one way in and one way out as far as she could see, and claustrophobia wound its way around her. Having an alternate route of escape had been a habit since she’d first disappeared, and she hated the feeling of being trapped.
Rachel rifled through the drawers and cabinets until she found the things she needed for Shane—scissors and plenty of towels and rags. She carried the bags of supplies into the bedroom along with a large bowl of water. It was time to get down to business and get Shane back on his feet. She could freely admit now that she needed him to help her get out of this mess alive.
“Okay,” she said, preparing herself. “We’ve got to get those clothes off.” She held the scissors in her hand and looked nervously at the man lying before her. “Suck it up, Rachel. You’ve seen a naked man before.” But her subconscious was telling her she’d never seen a naked man like Shane Quincy before. And she knew her subconscious was right.
Rachel cut away his shirt and winced as she pulled it away from the wound at his shoulder. The blood had caused the shirt to stick to the skin and she had to soak it with water before it would come free. She pulled off his socks and shoes and tackled the button of his jeans. His chest and stomach were hard with muscle and a fine sprinkling of dark hair covered his chest and trailed its way down below the waistband of his jeans. Rachel chewed on her lip nervously and tugged at the denim at his hips. And when she finally pulled them off and got a good look at Shane Quincy in all his glory, she was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who was burning with fever.
“Maggie,” he called out, thrashing around on the bed, his sweat-soaked body already dampening the sheets. “Maggie!” His demands for his dead wife grew stronger the higher his fever went, and Rachel felt tears sting her eyes at his obvious pain.
“Ssh, it’ll be okay,” she soothed. “I’m here with you, and nothing bad is going to happen.”
“Rachel?” he whispered.
“That’s right. It’s Rachel.” She bathed him with cool water and cleaned the wound at his shoulder. He was right that it wasn’t so bad. There was only a small entry and exit wound, and the area didn’t seem to be infected. She applied some salve and wrapped it in bandages.
It was the knot on his head that looked bad. A lump the size of an egg protruded into a starburst of color. She’d read somewhere that a person needing to stay awake while they had a concussion was just a myth, but she wasn’t sure. She tried to wake him and get him to swallow more painkillers, but he was too out of it.
It was well after dark by the time she’d finished seeing to Shane’s comfort. She took a quick shower, heated a bowl of soup, and ate standing over the sink while watching the clock on the wall. It was ten o’clock and Jones Daugherty still hadn’t shown up. Was it just a coincidence that the men in the black cars had found them so soon after she’d talked to Wildcat? She couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t know what Wildcat’s absence meant, but the gnawing in her stomach told her it couldn’t be good. She was beginning to think Shane needed to think twice about who he could trust.
Rachel checked the door and made sure the code was set before turning off the lights and climbing into bed next to Shane. He was still as death, and Rachel wondered if he’d remember the promise she’d given him to never leave him. She curled up next to him and tried not to think about the day she’d have to break that promise.
