Chapter 6

The instantthe scowling man dragged Paul Ortiz out of the restaurant, Avery slid off the barstool. Now what?

She could tail them and step in if needed. Whatever she decided, she had to watch her back. This Mason guy looked tough and smart. Something told her he was a lot more than just Paul’s buddy.

Whatever his real game was, the man screamed danger.

Seemed like Paul knew him, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The new guy could be a cop. Or hired muscle from Rain Bay. The fact that Paul didn’t seem too bent out of shape about being hauled out didn’t prove a thing.

She opted to slip out the back in case the other guy was waiting to jump her. Avery felt the weight of her service weapon in her purse as she headed for the kitchen door, sidestepping discarded produce boxes to peek around the overflowing dumpsters flanking the exit. Silence greeted her. But still, she didn’t budge. Let her eyes adjust to the dark. Her senses flared. The man was out there somewhere. She drew her weapon but kept her badge tucked away. If possible, she needed to get to her car and follow her mark without blowing her own cover.

She darted between cars, senses on high alert. More than once she spun around, sure he was right behind her, only to find empty air.

Her nerves thrilled at the chase even as frustration mounted. No matter which way she turned he anticipated her, effortlessly evading capture. She paused behind an SUV, steadying her breath. The engine ticked softly as it cooled in the damp night air. She should fear an adversary this skilled, yet her instincts whispered that he meant her no harm.

Something in his economical motions, the way he’d refrained from directly engaging her, told her he was a pro of the highest caliber. He could take her down if he wanted, and they both knew it. But that didn’t seem to be his goal. He only wanted to shake her long enough to get his charge away safely. Chasing her wasn’t the mission itself, just an inconvenient necessity.

She risked a glance around the bumper. A shadow detached itself from the far side of the lot. No mistake—he was toying with her. Unsure whether to be impressed or pissed off, she darted right, only to spot him waiting where she intended to go. She reversed course, a reluctant grin tugging her lips. However this ended, she had to admit—she was enjoying the challenge.

She spotted Paul in a sedan. Strange his contact was the only one tailing her, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as a shadow moved just beyond the light at the end of the lot. Her pulse jumped. The man was good.

Avery darted behind a pickup truck, her soft-soled shoes soundless on the pitted asphalt. The drizzling rain soaked through her clothes with clammy dampness, sending a shiver across her skin. She peered around the tailgate, squinting into the shadows between the sodium lights.

There—a hint of movement by the chain-link fence. She crouched, circling wide along the bumpers until the shape of a man crystalized.

Tall, broad-shouldered, face obscured by a ballcap.

Mason.

She ghosted forward, senses tingling. But quick as a blink he was gone, vanishing into the night like he’d never been there at all.

Pulse kicking up, Avery turned in a slow circle. Nothing. Just her and the echo of her own soft breaths. Impossible—where had he gone?

A scrape of a boot on loose gravel sounded behind her. She whirled, but only dark air met her gaze.

Admiration and frustration churned within her. However he did it, the man moved like a ghost. Clearly this wasn’t his first rodeo. She strained to catch any hint of his passage over the patter of rain. But Mason had vanished as completely as if he’d never existed.

She decided to lay low until they split. If she couldn’t tail them, so be it. At this point, it was more important Paul didn’t know he was being followed.

She circled back toward the restaurant’s rear entrance, hoping to hide out until the duo left. If she was lucky, maybe she could tail them. But just as she reached the door, Mason materialized from the shadows.

Even in the dim light she could see he was built, his muscular frame towering over her. He moved with coiled power and precision, fully engaged, focused wholly on her.

And dangerously attractive. His angular features were masculine yet refined. His hair curled damply against his forehead from the rain, the sides almost reaching his collar. His eyes bored into her, intense and unreadable in the low light.

She raised her weapon. “Stay back.”

He complied, raising his hands slowly. “You won’t shoot me.” His voice was a low rumble that resonated through her bones.

She scoffed, adjusting her grip, even as his nearness made her pulse skitter. He smelled of rain and pine and something undefinably male that had her senses prickling with unwanted awareness. The heat from his body seemed to reach out and grab her across the short distance.

She tensed, shoving down the unwelcome attraction. Now was not the time to notice broad shoulders and a rugged, handsome face.

“I’m warning you,”she repeated, glad the shadows likely hid the effect this stranger had on her.

His hands remained raised, though his body language clearly indicated she posed no threat. “Duly noted,” he said, his tone just edging into sarcasm. Then he met her gaze. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

She scoffed, steadying her aim. “And why’s that?”

“No FBI agent would shoot an unarmed man point blank.”

Shock jolted through her. “How did you––?”

“I’ve got a gift.” His smile was brief, barely a twitch of his lips. “Why’re you tailing Paul?”

She shook her head curtly. “That’s classified.”

“Nice try.” He huffed a laugh.

The sound sent a flutter through her core that she swiftly quashed. No time for that.

She inclined her chin, gaze flinty. “I’m serious.”

His smile widened a fraction, transforming his severe features. “Me, too.”

She sucked in a breath at the sight. Focus, she reminded herself. Butterflies could wait. She steadied her nerves and her aim. “You don’t want to tangle with me. Move along and we can both walk away.”

His eyes glinted in the low light. “Not until you tell me what you want with Paul Ortiz.”

She shrugged, taking care to keep her weapon aimed at the center of his chest. “Guess we’ll be here a while.”

He smiled, another heartfelt, knee-weakening grin. “That’s up to you.”

Before she could respond, he struck, sliding out of range and grabbing her weapon with astonishing speed. It all happened in the space of one breath: the move, the hands on her weapon, the gentle bending back of her wrist until her grip loosened.

Stunned, she rubbed her wrist. “You’re fast.”

“Lots of practice.”

He grabbed her other arm with his free hand. “Let’s go,” he ordered, pulling her back toward the front parking lot. ”Seeing as how this is gonna take a while. It’s probably best we talk somewhere less public.”

She was speechless for a second, furious with herself for letting him get the upper hand. But every second she hesitated, he towed her a couple feet farther, heading straight for the vehicle where her mark waited.

“You don’t want to do this,” she warned. Resisting would only tire her unnecessarily, so she gave in, matching his pace.

“No kidding,” he responded. “I’ll apologize later.”

No one exited the building. Of course. Where was the rowdy, liquored-up after work crowd when she needed them?

They were at the vehicle now. Paul swiveled his head around, eyes wide, mouth agape.

Mason leveled her weapon at her and ordered her into the back seat. Gun still trained on her, he whipped a serious hunting knife from behind his back and leaned in on the passenger side.

Paul’s hand was zip tied to the front grab handle. He jerked against the restraint. “Untie me.”

“Gimme a sec,” Mason insisted. He fixed Avery with a solemn look. “We just want to talk for a minute. Stay calm and quiet, and you’ll be out of here in less than five.”

“Take your time.” Sarcasm thickened her voice. “The longer you take, the easier it’ll be for my people to locate me.”

His dark look morphed into a sweet smile. “I’ll take my chances.”

Careful to keep her gun trained on her, he snipped the zip tie around Paul’s wrist with one quick motion.

“You drive,” he ordered the other man.

Scowling hard, Paul heaved himself out of the vehicle and headed around to the driver’s side.

Her captor leaned in the back seat. “Scoot over.“ He motioned for her to move, and slid in next to her.

She eyed her handgun, but she had to admit, his reflexes were way better than hers. Struggling for it in the confined space could only result in disaster.

He grunted softly, clearly reading her mind. Eyes locked on hers, he handed the weapon over the seat. “Put this in the glove box,” he ordered.

Once Paul had her Glock secured, Mason fished the keys from his pocket and handed them up, too. “Keep to the side streets. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Avery glared at him. “You don’t want to do this,” she repeated.

He laughed mirthlessly. “Can’t disagree there, ma’am. Desperate times … you know how that goes.”

She should be terrified with these unknown men. But oddly, she wasn’t.

Angry. Check.

Frustrated. Absolutely.

And intrigued. Seriously intrigued.

Paul fired up the engine. His eyes were wide in the rearview mirror. “You sure you want to––?”

“Drive,” Mason ordered. “Go.”

As the car lurched forward, snapping her head back, she made a new plan. Watch, wait, and listen. Gather every sliver of info she could, and then, when she saw her chance, she’d run.