Read In Plain Sight (Stolen Hearts) Online
Authors: Kate Kelly
In Plain Sight (Stolen Hearts) (23 page)
She sat up and pulled the nightie over her head and tossed it on the floor before lying back on the bed and holding her arms open to him.
He stared at her through hooded eyes. “I wonder if we have time,” he said as he straddled her and dipped his mouth between her breasts, “for me to kiss every inch of your body.”
She tunneled her fingers through his hair and held him in place. “This once, the world will have to wait for us.”
And it did. It waited for them to imprint themselves on each other, to leave more than their scent or the impressions of their bodies. The world gave them time to leave a small, but essential, part with the other, so that they were both new people by daybreak. They would never be the same again.
***
The sound of Bridget being sick in the bathroom woke Rafe from his delicious dream. Hell, that’s not the way he’d hoped to start the day. The minute they got free, he was taking Bridget to the doctor. And if they were stuck here a few more days, he’d raise hell until a doctor saw her. Something was terribly wrong with her.
When the shower started in the next room, he gave up hope of Bridget returning to bed and got up. He dragged on his jeans and headed for the tiny kitchen to start the coffee. At least they didn’t have to go to the house for that.
The day already felt too hot, and he opened what windows he could, his own stomach jumpy. Today was the day. They needed to go over their plans at least once more. Bridget had insisted last night was for them alone and had refused to discuss strategies for escape. He dug a mug out of the cupboard and poured half a cup of coffee then let the machine finish dripping. He didn’t know if it was the urgency of their situation or the kind of chemistry he and Bridget generated, but man, his body was still humming a
very
happy tune. If they could only get of here alive, they had so much to look forward to.
He frowned into his coffee. That is, if he could convince Irish they belonged together. Yeah, okay, he knew she was hot for him, but…well, she was Irish. She had that trust thing going on or no trust to be precise. Most of the time she was either telling him what she thought he wanted to hear, or she had one foot out the door. How do you have a relationship with someone like that?
He put his coffee down and rushed down the hallway when he heard her go into the bedroom. “We’ve got to talk.” He closed the door behind him.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, a wary look on her face. “About what?”
Interesting that she looked guilty. “About us getting out of here today. But first this.” He pulled her back against him and skimmed his hands over her stomach and up to her breasts. “I was hoping you’d wake me this morning.”
“I…I didn’t feel well.”
“I heard.” He turned her in his arms so he could see her face. “Are you nervous about today?”
“Of course. You should be, too.”
“I am. We should go over our plans. How are you going to start the fire in the barn? I have to find the car keys first, before you do.”
She moved out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. “Sit.”
When he sat beside her, she dragged her hands through her hair as if she were arranging her thoughts. “Okay. I go to the house for breakfast. You go to the barn first and find the keys, then come in.”
“Good.” He nodded. “They won’t be expecting that. If they ask, why did I go to the barn ?”
“Because…I don’t know.” Her eyes looked wild. “God, what are we thinking? If we can’t even come up with a simple reason for you to go to the barn, how are we ever going to escape?”
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “To get your favorite coffee mug that you left there last night.” He kissed the top of her head. “We can do this, Irish. You and me together, we’ll beat them.”
Panic slithered down his spine. The alternative was unthinkable.
“Then we have breakfast.” He forced himself to talk around the lump in his throat. “I expect you to eat. You’re going to need to keep your energy up.”
“I’ll try.” She sent him a wan smile. “So, we’re in the barn. Louis will be up on the ridge. Cyrus, at his post by the door.”
“No. Cyrus was there yesterday. Louis will be down by the barn, Cyrus on the ridge.”
“You wander out. Maybe go to the trailer because it’s closer to the SUV. I start a fire and go talk to Louis. That part will be easy because Louis’s so easily distracted.”
“By you.”
“Whatever. It’ll give you time to get over to the SUV and open it and grab your phone. Do you have Gage’s number on speed dial?”
“I have Sophie’s. I’ll leave the phone on and come back to you and Louis. Maybe she’ll hear my voice. I’ll check the fire, make sure it’s got lots to burn and yell for help. You run for the SUV and get in. I’ll be right behind you. We take off.”
Neither one said anything for a full minute. Bridget slipped her hand into his. “A lot could go wrong. Cyrus could shoot us at any given moment.”
“And then there’s Armand. You realize he may be setting us up so he can escape.”
“I hope not.” She stretched her palm flat against his. Her hand looked so small and delicate against his.
“Are you scared?”
“Petrified. You?”
“Absolutely. I should have sneaked out last night and grabbed the phone.”
“Louis would have seen you. They have heat binoculars.”
“The kind that see in the dark?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus.” What if he had gone outside after she’d fallen asleep last night? “Anything else you need to tell me before we go?”
His heart sank as her silence filled the room. He only hoped she didn’t get them both killed with her damned secrets.
Someone pounded on the trailer door. “You two alive in there?” Louis called.
“Yeah,” Rafe answered as he stood. “For the next half hour, anyway,” he murmured under his breath as he unlocked the bedroom door.
“Rafe?” Bridget’s voice stopped him.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He could barely hear her whisper. He smiled as much for her benefit as his, his heart aching. “Hold on to that thought and tell me again tonight.”
He kissed her softly on the mouth. “Are you feeling okay now?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re the best, Irish. Tell that baboon I still have to wash up. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Cyrus may be on the ridge by now.”
“Roger that. See you in five.”
His chest spasmed as if someone had reached in and twisted his heart as he watched her walk away from him. He should have told her he loved her.
“Bridget.”
She stopped in the narrow hallway and turned.
“Me, too, you.”
A corner of her mouth curved up. “I know.” And continued on her way.
Bite. Chew. Swallow
. Bridget concentrated on each mouthful, determined to eat and keep down some of the blueberry pancakes Armand had made for them. Blueberry pancakes had always been their “special” breakfast. She supposed it was his way of saying goodbye.
She swallowed another mouthful and sipped her orange juice. She’d rather he told her what his plans for escape were. She didn’t know whether she could trust him or not. She had no doubt he hoped to somehow use her and Rafe’s escape to disappear as well. But how? She wished he’d stop looking so damned sad. He was the one who’d taught her it was important to think positive before you put your plans in action. But by the long look on his face, he wasn’t holding out much hope that things would go well. What did he know that she didn’t?
Louis pushed his chair back from the table. “How much longer before the necklace is ready? I can’t take this heat anymore.”
A drop of sweat trickled down between her breasts. Act normal. “Hopefully just a couple of days. Who’s going to set the gems?”
Louis and Cyrus looked to Armand. He raised his shoulders in his signature Gallic shrug. “
Je ne sais pas
. I haven’t been told yet, but it won’t happen here.”
“Want to go swimming later?” Louis asked her as if they were kids on summer vacation. Thank goodness he was too dense to pick up on Armand’s depressed mood or the tension that circled the table. Cyrus, on the other hand, had been quietly studying each of them in turn, obviously trying to gauge the mood.
“Sounds like a good idea.” She stood. “Thanks for breakfast, Armand.” She smiled at him as she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. After this morning, would she ever see him again?
“It was my pleasure.” He stood and formally bowed to her.
Oh, hell, she was going to start crying if she didn’t get out of here.
“I’ll help with
the sanding
.” Rafe made a great deal of noise pushing his chair away from the table. He started for the door, but Cyrus put his hand out to stop him.
“I don’t think so.”
She, Armand and Rafe froze. “What’s the problem?” Armand asked. “Bridget works much more quickly when he helps.”
“I need him to help me collect all the trash, so I can take it down the road. I’m running late. You grab the stuff out of the trailer and the barn,” he instructed Rafe. “I’ll get the trash here. Meet me at the car.”
A bubble of hysteria expanded inside her chest. Bridget bit hard on her bottom lip to ground herself. They’d forgotten to check which day of the week it was. Thursday. Trash day. What would have happened if they’d set the fire in the barn and Cyrus had left with the SUV?
Her mind raced as she followed Rafe out of the house. Could they use Cyrus’s absence to their advantage? He was usually gone at least twenty minutes. Surely three of them could overpower Louis? They could knock him out and take off.
Rafe pulled her into his arms as soon as they entered the barn. “How long is Cyrus usually gone for?” he whispered in her ear.
“Twenty minutes. The three of us could take Louis.”
“Doesn’t give us enough time. I don’t like depending on Armand, and Cyrus would have the car. We’re better off waiting.”
“But—”
He gave her a hard, brief kiss. “Oh,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “Didn’t see you there, Louis. I’ll get the trash.” He gently squeezed her arms, then grabbed the garbage can and left.
She ignored the hulking man, went to the worktable and dug the necklace out of her pocket.
“How come you’ve got the necklace?” She smelled Louis’s sour breath as he looked over her shoulder. He moved quietly for a big man.
“No one came to get it last night so I took it with me. Was I supposed to leave it here on the table?” She pushed her bottom lip into a pout and blinked her eyes a few times. Did guys actually fall for that shit?
Louis’s suspicious expression softened. “Guess not. But you should’ve found one of us and given it to us.”
“You’re right.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I was so tired by the time I was done, all I wanted to do was go to bed.”
“Maybe I should frisk you from now on.” He leered, dropping his gaze to her breasts. Thank goodness she’d worn a dark gray T-shirt instead of one of her usual thin tank top. She’d worried white would be too easy to spot if she had to hide in the fields or woods.
She gave him a half-hearted smile and started her torch.
“Rafe.” He snorted. “What kind of name is that?”
She laughed with him. “His mother is an artist or something.”
She felt the heat from his body as he moved closer to her and dragged the back of his hand up and down her arm. “I’d be good to a woman like you if you were good to me.”
Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick. Don’t be sick
. She glanced at the door as if she were nervous. “Can we talk about this later? I should get to work.”
“Sure.” He pressed his lips against the back of her neck. “Later.”
An idea struck her as she closed her eyes and concentrated on not throwing up as he sauntered over to the open barn door. Could she barf on demand?
“What are you looking at?” Louis called out to Rafe. “Get back in the barn.”
Louis watched Rafe from the doorway as Rafe returned to Bridget’s side. Rafe turned the radio up loud. “Do you have more polishing for me to do?”
“Yes.” She pushed a section toward him. “I think he has more than one gun,” she said, staring down at the necklace.
“Louis?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Shoulder holster and ankle holster. I just remembered seeing him scratch his ankle the other day. I asked him if the heat bothered him why didn’t he wear shorts. He just smiled kind of strange, like he had a secret. I figured he was hiding a second gun.”
“Where’s the knapsack you packed?”
“Under the kitchen sink in the trailer. Damn. I should have brought it with me.”
“And told them what?”
“Good point.”
“Don’t worry about it. If we get a chance to grab it, good. If not…” He shrugged. “Listen. Cyrus is back. Where the hell is Armand?”
Her hands shook as she tried to do a weld. “I don’t know.”
Rafe opened the toolbox, found the keys and wrapped his hand around them.
“When are you going to start the fire?”
She rested her hand on top of a plastic bottle of an alcohol-based cleaning solvent. “Now, I guess.”
“Got any paper? Anything to add to it?”
“My sketch pad.”
“Good.”
Bridget put her hand over his when she noticed his leg jittering. “Head for the trailer. Tell him you have to use the washroom.”
He nodded. “That’s good.”
“I’ll start the fire, then distract him. Are you ready?”
“No, but I think we’ve run out of time.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Let’s do this.”
Her hands shook even more as she pulled several sketches from her book, crumpled them up and soaked them in the solvent. She waited until she heard Rafe cross the yard to the trailer, then soaked a rag and placed it beside the paper. Carefully, she rested a large piece of canvas over everything. She needed a couple of minutes before the fire exploded. Just before she lit the rag, she stuffed the necklace and all the pieces in her front pants pocket.
She torched the rag and hurried out to Louis who was sitting just outside the door in his usual place. She stood in front of him, blocking his view and put a hand on his shoulder to keep his attention centered on her. “I don’t feel so good, Louis.”
“I noticed you’ve been sick a lot lately. You want some water or something?”
“No. I just need a bit of fresh air. Sometimes the fumes from soldering make me dizzy.” She leaned forward to rest her forehead beside her hand. He circled her waist with his hands and copped a feel of bare skin.
Hells bells, she hadn’t counted on him pawing her.
Throw up
. She closed her eyes and envisioned stinky, fat Louis lying on top of her. Her breakfast sped up her throat at the same time she heard Armand speak behind her. She spewed all over Louis’s sweat-stained polyester shirt. He jumped up and pushed her back into Armand’s arms.
“You bitch.”
Armand swirled her around and pushed her toward the SUV. “Go.”
“What the fuck?” Louis looked up from unbuttoning his shirt.
She scurried across the yard, her prayers answered when the passenger door slammed open and the SUV roared to life.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Louis roared.
Without thinking, as Armand jumped between her and Louis, she reached into her side pocket, pulled out her gun and turned on one heel to face the gunman. Louis’s gun went off and Armand crumpled into the dust. Her gun felt like an extension of her arm as she took aim and shot Louis. Before he hit the ground, she was in the SUV and they were flying down the driveway.
“I didn’t think you were actually going to use the gun,” Rafe yelled.
Bridget felt as if she were sitting in the eye of a hurricane. Rafe’s voice sounded muted, but she could tell he was yelling by the way his throat strained into cords of muscle.
She looked at her gun. She’d never shot anyone before. Louis was probably dead. Maybe Armand, too, but maybe not. Cyrus would come after them. Soon. They had to hurry.
“Did you contact anyone?”
Rafe looked at her strangely. “Sophie. The feds are probably mobilizing now. I have to call Sophie again when we know exactly where we are.” He stopped the car at the locked gate and tumbled out, then turned back. “Move it. Every second counts.”
She got out and ran around to the back as they’d discussed. She pulled the bike out of the car as Rafe punctured all the tires. He leaned in and grabbed the keys. “Let’s go.”
They both turned as the barn exploded into an inferno. He grabbed her arm. “Come on. Hop on the front bars.”
“I’m a good runner. I can run,” she said. “You’ll go faster without me.” Tears ran down her face, but inside, she felt nothing.
He grabbed her again and shook her. “We don’t have time. You’re in shock. Get on or I’ll pick you up and put you on the bike myself.”
In shock. Because she’d killed a man. Made sense. She stumbled to the bike and balanced precariously as Rafe started pedaling.
“Hang on as tight as you can. Bridget? Do you hear me?”
With her back to him, she shook her head. How fast could Cyrus run? Fast, she bet. “What if there’s someone else stationed farther down the road?” she yelled over her shoulder, although there was no reason to yell. The countryside was so quiet, she could hear Rafe pant as he sped down the road.
“We’ll deal with it when we get there. Holy shit. Is that a truck?” When he slammed on the brakes, they skidded to a stop in the middle of the road.
Bridget climbed off the bicycle, her hand slipping into her side pocket. She wrapped her fingers around the butt of the gun, but left it out of sight. They watched the truck bear down on them. It swerved at the last minute. Someone hollered, and someone else threw an empty beer can at them.
“Assholes.” Rafe kicked the beer can. “Come on. Do you need help getting back on?”
“I’m okay. Maybe we should get off this road.” She settled on the handlebars, and Rafe took off again.
“The feds will come this way. I don’t want to miss them.”
“I’ll probably have to go to jail for killing Louis.” Panic scratched at her throat, making it impossible to breathe.
“You don’t know if he’s dead, and besides, it was self-defense. Every time I think I have you figured out, Irish, it blows up in my face.”
She swallowed her tears. She’d never heard him sound so sad. If they put her in jail for a long time, then okay, she’d tell him about the baby. But if not, she couldn’t tell him. He’d hate being bound to someone like her; she’d known that all along, hadn’t she?
Rafe swore behind her.
“What?” Afraid of them losing their balance, she didn’t dare turn around.