Chapter Eight

Shane couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a definite buzz inside his truck while he followed Everlee's directions to her apartment complex, Arlington Heights. Which was an odd name for anything, since Arlington, Virginia, was way east of the new TEAM HQ and Alex's castle-like home.

"Next left, then take the first right, and you're there," Everlee said quietly. "You can't miss it. Second building straight back. Let me off by the Dumpster. Gives me less distance to walk."

"Sure. No problem." Shane cast a quick sideways glance her way.

Seemed like most agents lived nearby TEAM HQ. Several had recently moved from Seattle, and the others had given up their homes closer to Washington, DC, for the lazy life of western Virginia. Everlee, along with Paige Royal, the Seattle's TEAM office manager, and several guys, were some of those Seattle transplants. Only Everlee had been at the picnic tonight. The rest of them were still on extended leave, moving households.

But Shane was pretty sure that off-kilter buzz was coming from her. Except for her succinct directions, Everlee hadn't said much since they'd left the Stewarts. Her bossy, energetic other half was nowhere in sight.

Shane was drawn to Everlee. Had been since she'd spit coffee in his face. How could a recluse like him not be drawn to a woman with as much fire in her gut and attitude as Everlee Yeager? She was a good foot shorter than him, which made him feel taller and bigger, meaner, and okay, for some reason, protective of her. Wasn't that a kick? Him feeling protective of a former Chief of Security Forces, which made her an officer to his enlisted rank? Not that rank mattered now that they were both civilians again. But neither did a trained police officer with plenty of attitude need any guy's protection. She could take care of herself, and he was a sexist for even thinking she couldn't.

Plus, Everlee was carrying. That might explain why she'd kept her distance from everyone else tonight. Shane wasn't, hadn't been all night, not with so many kids around. He'd left his holster in his truck and his pistol stuck to the magnetic strip under his dash, where it was still safely secured. But accessible.

More than once he'd thought about joining Everlee on that lonely bench tonight. But each time he'd headed her way, he'd been sidelined, if not by one of the guys, then by the kids or one of the Stewarts. He'd had a great time meeting everyone, hadn't felt an inkling of tension, which was surprising in a crowd that size. Maybe because everyone there was former military, married into the military, or was born under the flag. They all spoke the same language. Yet Shane couldn't help thinking he should've paid more attention to Everlee.

Obediently, he made the left turn, took the first right, and drove easily through the deeper than normal gutter at her apartment complex entry. Arlington Heights was a collection of rectangular, colonial-style buildings. Decent. Tidy. Painted white with large, black-stamped eagles at the center front of all buildings. Doric columns lined the rear porticoes. The glass entrance doors were tinted black, and judging by the keypads at each entry, only residents were allowed access.

Sixteen multipaned windows lined both first and second levels, front and back. Well-cared for and colorful flowerbeds bordered each building. Sidewalks ran between the grassy areas between the buildings. Covered numbered parking stalls lined the rear section of the eight-foot-high brick wall that encompassed the entire complex. A rear driveway offered additional egress. The place seemed quiet and calm tonight, and it was good knowing Everlee lived in a secure, safe facility. Just as good as knowing where both exits were.

He refused to just drop Everlee off at the Dumpster, though. Like hell. That unsettling buzz had grown stronger, so he pulled into the nearest visitor stall, shifted into PARK, and turned to his too-quiet passenger. "Here we are."

Yup, the buzzing was coming from Everlee. She all but radiated tension. The cords in her neck were tight and stiff. Her head was down, and her gaze was on the floor. Her body was wound as tight as a rubber band about to let a spit wad fly. Was she scared? Why?

Shane reached out and laid a hand on her forearm, in case there was something she wanted to tell him. "What do you need me to do?"

She jumped at his touch. "Nothing. Can't we just" —her throat worked hard to make that swallow go down— "leave? Maybe take a long ride around the block or something?" She cranked her chin up, looked him in the eye, and added, "Please?"

It was the faint tremor to her usual cocky tone and the un-Everlee-like shine in her brown eyes that spurred Shane to action. "Yes, ma'am," he declared. She was afraid, and he didn't need to know why. Slamming his truck into reverse, he pulled a short, sharp K-turn out of the parking space and aimed for the rear exit. Easy in. Just as easy out. Well, except for another steep speed bump. Because his truck sat so high, he had to slow down and crawl over the humongous thing.

They were nearly out the rear exit when some jerk in a universal-camouflage-patterned uniform—otherwise known as the US Army's digicam crap—jumped out from behind another Dumpster and waved his arms for Shane to stop.

Shane slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting the guy.

"God," Everlee whispered. "Why can't he leave me alone?"

Good question, one Shane was pretty sure she hadn't meant to ask out loud. But GI Joe there might explain the tension in Everlee. "Who is this guy? Were you expecting him?"

"Not exactly,'" she answered even as she shook her head, then nodded. "But yeah. I knew he'd show up one of these days. Sorry." Everlee unsnapped her seatbelt.

Shane wasn't about to let her face this jerk alone. He put the truck back into PARK right there in the middle of the exit, shrugged out of his seatbelt, and jumped to the ground. In a few quick steps, he was in the guy's face. "Can I help you?" he asked, keeping his tone civil and his body language relaxed. For now.

Anger suffused the air between him and this guy, who had his fists up. "Where you been with my wife?"

Your wife?

Shane kept his cool. Didn't react. Didn't get mad. This guy had to be her ex. Everlee'd said she'd been married, not was married. No wonder she'd divorced the jerk. He reeked of body odor and something sour, like he'd recently slept in his own vomit and hadn't bathed. His long, blond hair was greasy and thin, wispy like the scruff on his chin. Not on his face, just on his chin, like a teenager's face before his balls dropped and his voice changed. Before he could actually grow anything a man would call a real beard. Or a pair.

Everlee didn't deserve being ambushed in a semi-dark parking lot even if they were married, and Shane didn't owe this belligerent any explanation other than, "Not your concern."

"Oh, yeah? You been fucking my woman? You have, haven't you? I can see it on your face, you pig." The man's head tilted as he yelled around Shane, "Ev! This who you're sneaking around with now? Jesus, woman! Can't trust you for shit, can I? Get your ass over here!"

Shane went for broke, just stuck his hand out, needing to tone down the rhetoric. "Shane Hayes. Who are you?"

The man's chest puffed out. "None of your business. 'Sides, I already told you, shithead. That woman sitting her ass in your truck is my wife! Which makes me her gawddamned husband, and you're a cheating son of a bitch!" His eyes popped over Shane's shoulder at the sound of the truck door slamming. "There she is, now get out of my way, asshole. Me and Ev got things to discuss, and they don't include—"

"Get out of here, Butch," Everlee ordered, her voice even. She was in her Air Force LT mode, her shoulders back and her face set to give orders. "You're drunk. Go home to your mom. Sleep it off."

"But I need you, not Ma," he declared, his chin up and his red-rimmed eyes bleary as shit. He took a stumbling, sideways shuffle to get around Shane.

Shane cut him off, blocking Everlee's view. Instead of pushing Shane aside, she replied from behind him, "You never needed me, Butch. You just used me. Like you use everyone else in your life. Go home. We're through. Have been for two years and—"

"And three months and a couple days! Gawd, you don't think I know that? I can count, damn it! Git your ass away from this bastard so I can get a good look at you!" Butch swiped the back of his hand under his nose, then smeared a line of snot from his hand across the front of his shirt. Which was just plain disgusting. "I miss you, Ev, I do," he bellowed, "and you're wrong."

The guy stomped his boot like a two-year-old about to have a full-blown temper tantrum. "I really, really need you! Can't you see? Always did. You never shoulda left me because I can change. I know I can. Just need you and another chance and—"

"And another and another and another…" Her words faded as she stepped forward and bumped against Shane's right side. When she turned to look up at him, her hand went to his chest and his automatically fell to her hip. "I'm all out of second chances. I've told you before, you and me are done. We've been done for years. You picked booze, pot, drugs, and cheating over me. I was just too stupid to see it soon enough. Go home to your Ma. She'll feed you. Take a bath. Eat something, for hell's sake."

"Not 'less you come with me!"

Way to impress a woman, Butch, Shane thought as he shifted his hand from her hip to her shoulder and pulled her in tight against his side. Scream. Whine. Act like the snot-nosed addict you obviously are. Ev's right. Go home.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, and you know it," Everlee said. Despite the tension in her body, her voice remained uncommonly calm and controlled, like the professional she was. "You need help, counseling wouldn't hurt. Get it before it's too late."

"'S already too late, Ev, baby!" Tears trickled down the guy's dirty face and into the sparse whiskers on his chin. "If you can't find it in your heart to forgive me, what else do I got? I got nothing! You took everything I was when you left me behind and moved to Alaska!"

"I didn't leave you," she said, confronting his pity-party with the same calm indifference. "You did. With Georgette and Lucy and Kalli and…" Everlee waved her hand as if that list went on and on.

"But this time I really, really" —Butch's belly expanded with a full breath before he bellowed— "need you!"

Everlee turned to Shane. "Thanks for the ride. See you back at the office."

Her eyes were still a clear crystal brown, like black coffee. For the first time, he noticed her pupils were huge. She still presented a calm demeanor, but there were cracks in her composure. This confrontation might be a rerun of a hundred others, but it cost her.

The urge to carry her back to his place and hide her and make love to her stormed Shane's common senses. Everlee was no damsel in distress, and he refused to reduce her to that old-fashioned stereotype. "Uh-uh, Ev. I'm not walking away and leaving you out here alone with this guy," he told her under his breath. Shane crooked his elbow, inviting her to grab hold of him. "Not until you're safely inside. Which place is yours? Point the way, and I'll get you there."

He didn't think she'd do it. Everlee was still a puzzle who needed someone willing to take the time to unravel. But she did, just slipped her small hand into the crook of his arm, offered a wan smile, and said, "Thanks, Shane. I appreciate it."

Poor thing was trembling and that pissed Shane off. "How long's he been showing up here?"

Her lower jaw widened, stretching her bottom lip into a grimace. "This is the first time since I left Seattle. Guess he heard about what happened on Highway 15. Timing's about right."

"What happened?"

"The usual. Ended a pervert's crime spree. Finch won't be killing anyone's little kids anymore. But it made the news and you know how they are," Everlee hadn't looked at her ex since she'd turned away from him. Good strategy.

Shane arched back to really see the woman on his arm. "That was you? You're the one who took down Webster Finch over in Culpepper?"

She shrugged both shoulders like it was no big deal. "Paper got the deets wrong as usual, but yeah. That was me."

"You sideswiped his car." Unbelievable.

"Sideswipe, nothing. I meant to hit that piece-of-shit, and I hit it square on like I planned. Highway Patrol Officer McKay boxed him in after the impact, but I'm the one who stopped—"

"Local news said Finch got one shot off." Shane dropped his arm to take hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. "My God, where'd he shoot you?"

"It was nothing. I was wearing a vest. I survived. It happens. Let it go."

"Where?" he persisted.

She tapped her chest up high on her breastbone, damned near the hollow of her throat. "Here. Nothing to worry about."

"Hey, guy-zzzz!" Butch hollered, dragging that last word into two, long, annoying syllables. "Enough whispering. I ain't dumb, ya know. If you're gonna talk about me, do it louder."

Everlee took hold of both Shane's wrists. "Would you mind if we went somewhere else?"

He didn't need to be asked twice. "You bet."

Like a man on a mission, Shane escorted Everlee back to his truck, opened her door, put his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her up over the running board and onto the passenger seat. "Sit back," he told her as he deftly reached around grabbed hold of her seatbelt, and fastened it snugly.

She sat there smiling down at him, a funny glow in her eyes. "Jiminy Christmas, Shane. What'll your dogs think?"

"You like ice cream?" he asked instead of answering her silly question. His dogs only ever got the back seat. Riding shotgun was for someone special and here she was.

"Doesn't everybody?"

"I know a place." For some crazy reason he couldn't explain, Shane's face cracked into a big grin. It'd been so long since he'd really smiled that it almost hurt. He peered around the back of Everlee's seat to his girls and asked, "Want a treat?"

Molly and Dolly both let loose excited yelps, and Everlee laughed. She probably couldn't help it because the enthusiasm of those two crazy dogs was contagious. Shane ran around his truck, climbed in, and threw one arm over the back of his seat. Deftly, he backed his rig out of Arlington Heights the same way he'd driven in, and he and Everlee left What's-His-Name screaming his guts out in the rear parking lot.

For a day that had started out embarrassing as fuck, it was ending pretty great.