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Authors: T.L. Gray

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BOOK: Saint
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“What makes you think that?” Will shifted,
pushed to his feet. “I told you he was cranky.”

She stood up too, hands on hips. “He just
threw you out the door. I’d say that’s a pretty good indication he’s not
onboard with the idea.”

“He’s not a morning person.” Will motioned
for her to follow him to the car. “Get your duffel and go on inside. He’s
waiting for you.”

She stared at him like he was drunk. “Are
you crazy?”

“It’s not that bad, seriously,” he assured
her, reaching over the seat for her bag. “Just a little payback for something
that happened years ago. He got his payback so you got a new bodyguard. We’re
good. Here.” He shoved the bag into her hands. “And remember what I said, stick
to him like glue.”

She swallowed hard, reluctantly accepting
the duffel. “You’re sure he’s not going to toss me out on my face like he did
you?”

“Positive.” Will leaned over and kissed her
cheek. “You couldn’t be in better hands.”

“Will—”

“Maria, I know what I’m doing. Don’t you
trust me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Have you changed your mind about
testifying?”

“No!”

“Then this is what we have to do, honey.”

It was against her better judgment, but the
look in Will’s eyes—one of which was swelling at an alarming rate—was sincere.
The second she backed away from the sedan he hopped into the driver’s seat,
locked the doors and sped forward, spewing dirt and gravel into the air.
Through the cloud of dust she saw him cut to the right, alongside the pickup
parked beside the cabin.

She jumped when what sounded like a gunshot
rang out, echoing down the mountain.

What the hell was he doing?

The sedan circled back in her direction,
whizzing past her to bump drunkenly down the access road. Maria didn’t like the
feeling stirring in her gut. She liked it less when a half-dressed Harris
emerged from the house, roaring “Goddammit!”

She hadn’t gotten a good look at Harris
earlier when he’d let Will into the cabin, but what she saw now scared the
vinegar out of her. Wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding jeans and a black
scowl on his chiseled features, he strode barefoot toward his four-by-four. He
was well over six feet, lean and muscular and built for brawling. His dark
blond hair was clipped short and he had broad, bronzed shoulders, a trim waist
and…well, there was little doubt the man was very well developed all over.
Difficult to gauge his age but she figured late thirties.

It wasn’t so much his physical appearance
as his don’t-fuck-with-me demeanor that made one wary of getting too close.
This
guy stood up in front of college
kids in a stuffy shirt and tie, spouting Chaucer?

He bent to survey the damage to his truck
tire and cursed again. And she really, really wanted to be wrong in thinking
Will had lied to her about Harris’ acquiescence. But she didn’t think she was.
All the traveling and lack of sleep had made her slow on the draw or she would
have realized sooner that Will was dumping her on this guy.

Okay, well, she’d handled tough interviews
before. Slinging the duffle over her shoulder, she trudged up the incline. When
she reached the edge of the truck she stuck out her hand in greeting. “Maria
Carvania. Nice to meet you, Mr. Harris. I think.”

He didn’t so much as spare her a glance. “Save
it, honey. There isn’t going to be anything nice about it.” Harris stalked away
from her to the rear corner of the house, then back again, biting out more curses.
“Son of a bitch. No wonder he wanted to use my bathroom.” Yanking the spare
tire from the truck bed, he searched inside the cab for the jack. “Put your duffel
in the truck. As soon as I’m finished here I’ll take you back.”

Back where? There was no place to go back to.
“But Will said—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what Will said,”
he cut her off savagely, deadly blue eyes boring into her. “Let’s get one thing
straight, lady. You’re not staying here.”

She felt her own hackles beginning to rise.
He was acting as though she was responsible for what had just happened here. “Would
you mind not looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

“As though you’d like to break my neck. I
didn’t know he was going to do that.”

He changed the tire in record time and returned
the jack to the cab. Spotting the duffel still hanging from her shoulder, he
hitched two fingers under the strap and relieved her of it, tossing it into the
cab as well before slamming the door and brushing past her. He disappeared into
the cabin, leaving her to follow. Or not.

Stick to him like glue, Will had said. Now
she knew why. She was the egg—Harris was the wall and already she could feel
herself sliding down the slick slope.

“In here,” he called from the kitchen as
she let the door close behind her.

She took in the sparse living room on her
way to the kitchen, where she accepted the hot cup of coffee he grudgingly
offered.

“Did he at least feed you this morning?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “We left the
motel early.” He didn’t appear to be a reasonable man, particularly when he was
pissed. Although, she couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to involve
himself in her personal war against Juarez. People were dying all around her.
Simon, Buck, Ray.

Her mother.

Jimmy.

Suddenly he was there, removing the untouched
coffee from her hand and replacing it with a glass of whiskey. “Drink,” he
ordered, placing a hand on her shoulder to push her into a chair.

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning for
whiskey?”

“It’ll calm your nerves.”

“I don’t have a case of nerves.”

“Right.” He snagged a hand towel from the
sink. “That’s why I’m mopping coffee off the floor.”

“Don’t bother with breakfast on my account.”
She grimaced as a streak of fire lit a path down her esophagus, hitting bottom
in her empty stomach. “I’m not thrilled about the prospect of spending the next
two months stuck up on this mountain any more than you are.”

“Good. Because you’re not.” He pulled open
the fridge and extracted a carton of eggs. Efficient as any short-order cook,
he dished up eggs and toast, slapping the plate down in front of her before
seating himself across the table.

“Are you less crabby after breakfast?” One
could only hope

“Usually. After we finish eating we’ll get
on the road.”

“To where?” It wasn’t like Will had left a
forwarding address. He’d made it clear he wouldn’t be in contact again until
the trial.

“D.C.”

And that was supposed to help her how? But
she kept the question to herself. She wasn’t sure this guy had all his screws
tightened. “Will says you teach literature at Murray State.”

“That’s what I do.”

“So you only play mercenary on the
weekends?”

The question earned her a long cool look. “I
fish, like normal people.”

“Normal people don’t beat up their friends
and throw them out on their faces.” She forked some eggs into her mouth.

Those ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Just
what did Will tell you about me?”

She chewed her eggs, swallowed. “That you
were the only one who could protect me from Juarez. And that you were cranky.”

“If Juarez wants you dead, no one can
protect you for long.” He rose to refill his coffee cup.

“You mean Will exaggerated when he said you
could do the job.”

He studied her momentarily over the rim of
his cup. “Will would do better to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut. Which
theory don’t you comprehend, lady, can’t or won’t? He didn’t come here to ask
me for help protecting you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. It’s better if you don’t.”

She didn’t like the way he simply brushed
her concern aside. “Better for whom, Mr. Harris?”

“Both of us.”

* * * * *

She had to pee. Bad. They’d been driving
nonstop since this morning. The only exception being gas station stops—the
rundown kind without any type of food mart or public bathroom—and according to
the signs they were now somewhere in Virginia. Dusk had settled in and
gathering clouds made everything gloomier. She was hungry, tired of being on
the road and he wasn’t showing signs of stopping anytime in the near future.

“Do you plan on driving straight through to
D.C.?” she finally asked when the miles continued to fall away and they passed yet
another off-ramp.

“The sooner we get there, the sooner I can wring
Will’s neck for pulling such a stupid stunt. We’ll have to find a room first,
then I’ll call and make arrangements to meet him.”

“Why not just drive past and throw me out
on the Capital steps with a note pinned to my shirt?”

He ignored her sarcasm just like he had
ignored her presence in general. It was like she didn’t exist. “Will may need a
day or two to find another safehouse for you. I don’t mean to sound cruel but
this is his game, he’s going to have to play it out.”

Could this guy be more of a prick? “Look,
Mr. Harris, I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced but don’t take it out on me. I’ve
spent the last six months being hauled from town to town, state to state,
pillar to post. Will obviously thought he’d run out of options. I think we can
agree this wasn’t one of his better ideas.”

“Lady, you haven’t even begun to be
inconvenienced yet.”

“Stop calling me lady,” Maria gritted out. “I
have a name. All I want to do is get through this trial and get my life back.”

He snorted. “Your life ended the minute you
agreed to testify against Juarez. If Will told you any differently, he lied.”

“I guess you’re one of those people who
doesn’t believe in the system.”

“The system doesn’t work on people like
Juarez. What do you do for a living?”

The question was unexpected, especially
since he’d shown complete disinterest in her or her situation thus far. In
fact, they had spent most of the trip in silence. “I’m a journalist.”

“Then I suggest you find another line of
work.”

She’d like to suggest a few things herself
but if he was willing to maim his friends, God only knew what he’d do to
someone he’d just met. “You don’t like journalists either?”

“By now Juarez has studied every aspect of
your life, every detail he can get his hands on. If you continue on in the same
line of work you’ll only make it easier for him to find you, in jail or out.”

What was with this guy? “Are you trying to
scare me, Mr. Harris?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

His features hardened but rather than
answer the question he veered off at the next exit and pulled into the first
available gas station. “Stay in the truck, keep the doors locked. I’ll be right
back.”

Easy for him to say, his bladder wasn’t
about to burst. Hers had been threatening to explode for the last hour. Minutes
passed and still Harris didn’t emerge from the station. Maria scanned the area
for a restroom sign, spotting one on the side of the building. A short walk and
she’d be inside. Trouble was, most roadside restrooms required a key. As she
pondered whether to wait Harris out or go inside the little building to get the
key herself, a car pulled up to the curb and a woman bailed out of the
passenger side, running into the restroom.

Problem solved. When the woman came out she
would be ready to make a dash for the door, Seth Harris or no Seth Harris. Then
again, it was possible there was more than one stall in the bathroom.

Deciding to find out, she slipped from the
truck and hurried across the parking lot. But her luck didn’t hold. It was a
single stall bathroom and she had to wait just inside the door, trying as best
she could not to actually make contact with the walls or the sink. She didn’t
even want to think about what was on the floor. Just as she was about to give
in and consider using the bushes outside, the woman emerged, apologizing for
the wait.

“No problem.” The inside of the stall was
just as rank, so she had to balance herself over the toilet. No way in hell was
she actually going to sit on that seat. Her bladder cramped again and she
nearly didn’t get her jeans pushed down fast enough. Release was almost
euphoric.

Outside the stall she could hear the water
running as the woman washed her hands, pulled on the paper-towel dispenser and
finally the creak of the door as it opened and shut again.

After wrestling her clothes back into
place, she did the same, pausing to bend close to the cracked mirror over the
grungy sink to check the thin cut along her temple.

Behind her the door slammed open. She
whirled in surprise, a scream of terror lodging in her throat when she saw the
huge, dark figure filling the doorway. And all she could think was,
they’ve found me. I’m going to die.

Hard, unforgiving hands clamped over her
wrist and mouth and dragged her into the night.

BOOK: Saint
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