Cold Day In Hell (15 page)

"Sneaky," Holly announced. "Somewhat devious, which means it might work."

"One last thing. After you get the story out, tell Nate. Let him know you were following my instructions. Do it in person and then run like hell. He's going to be pissed at my methods. But he'll clue the feds, and if it helps flush out this bastard, we'll be forgiven."

"I don't need to know where you two are going. Right?"

"No." The less she knew, the safer she'd be.

"Okay, let's get started. I think I can hack into a City Council member's system. From there we'll send an e-mail to the television stations, insisting he remain anonymous." Holly picked up a pen and notepad. "Ana, let's keep things short and concise. Tell me how your political asylum has been threatened."

Ty blocked out the sound of the two women talking. The irony of having to get Ana out of the country hadn't escaped him. A twinge of worry nagged at him. Returning her to a country that feared her presence would make securing supplies difficult. Money was the key to making this a successful mission.

He had plenty saved, but getting to it posed the threat of discovery. Marcus had to come through.

He sensed Ana's presence even before her hand gripped his arm. Weird that he recognized her touch without looking.

"We should go."

Chapter Twelve

A stop at the nearest big-box store had them outfitted with new clothes, shoes, toiletries, and a bag of groceries. "This is a lot more than we had the last time we traveled together," Ana said, passing him the last sack.

"The duffle bag and backpack aren't military quality, but they'll do." Ty shoved the package in and closed the rear door.  

Standing next to Holly's car, Ana clamped her lips together to muffle her laugh as Ty muttered a few choice words. He stopped at the driver's side door and tossed a "this isn't funny" look her direction. The car's diminutive size had drawn a torrent of disapproval. According to his assessment, it was too slow, too small, and too damn flimsy.

"This is a roller skate not a car." He slid behind the wheel and continued his rant. "My knees are under my chin."

Since his head nearly touched the headliner, she decided against mentioning she found the vehicle to have excellent legroom and comfortable seats.

"Thanks for the clothes. I'll reimburse you when I can."

"Not to worry." He steered onto the freeway and headed back toward Dallas. "I doubt Carlo has the connections to monitor my credit card, but who knows. We'll use cash for everything else."

"How do we get the car back to Holly?"

"Back? This is a throwaway, isn't it?"

"Ty," Ana admonished. "Holly's doing her part for the environment."

He shot a grin her direction, sending Ana's heart into a flutter.

"Just kidding. Marcus will make sure it's returned."

"I'm beginning to think we're going in circles. Where to now?"

"An out-of-the-way fishing cabin."

"Another safe house?"  

"No. Just somewhere we can stay overnight. Nobody will know where we are."

"How long are we going to stay hidden?"

"I'm guessing overnight, two at the most. Marcus will pull our trip together faster than you'd expect."

She barely heard him when he took her phone from his shirt pocket and made a call. He made reservations, chatted a minute, and apparently, learned an extra set of keys would be waiting in a magnetized holder under the mailbox. The words "one or two nights" circled around her brain, making concentrating difficult.

Hiding out in an isolated area with him couldn't possibly be a good idea. The nearness and seclusion could result in them in each other's arms.

No need to worry about Ty. He'd fare just fine. She was his job. His mission. His responsibility. Sure, he'd considered kissing her a couple of times. She'd recognized the flare of heat in his eyes and the darkening of his gaze. Old-fashioned lust had ricocheted through her and erased her resolve. Lucky for them both, he'd restrained himself.

Sex with Ty would be a colossal mistake. Intimacy always altered a relationship. In her experience, liaisons born out of a common goal disappeared once the mission was accomplished.

Although, not forming a lasting bond worked for them both. When this was over, they'd live in separate countries. She wouldn't have to worry about running into him at the bodega buying food. With him out of reach, maybe her raging hormones would give her a break.

Exhaustion swamped her, making her eyelids heavy. Nerves knotted to the point of painful explained her wandering thoughts. On the edge of sleep, her mind sought peace.

Having Ty near enough to touch eased the pain of being abandoned by her country. Would she ever really belong anywhere?

The car slowed. Ty's hand touched her arm. "We're here."

Ana shook the cobwebs from her brain. "Already?"

"You dozed for a few miles." He shut off the engine and the headlights.

Total darkness surrounded them.

Images flashed through her mind. Icy tendrils of fear raced across her skin as memories of Ty leading her through the jungle chilled her. She shivered.

"It's cooler out here next to the water."

"It's so dark." She undid her seat belt and fought the urge to panic.

"I parked around back." He exited, walking around to open her door.

She took his warm, extended hand, relieved when he switched on a flashlight and flooded the ground in front of them.

"Is that better?"

"Much." The simple act of holding hands while they walked around to the front sent heat racing through her bloodstream.

Ty swung the light across the building, giving her a sense of what to expect. The place might not be too bad. This was an A-frame house. If she were lucky, there would be two beds inside.

Ty ran his hand under the metal mailbox and produced a set of keys. "Let's get you inside."

Ana felt the immediate loss of warmth when Ty released her hand to unlock the door. He reached in and hit a switch that shed light on their temporary home.

"It's not much, but we'll be safe." Ty motioned for her to go inside. "I'll bring in the sacks. You look around."

Standing in the front room, she turned in a circle. Hope for separate bedrooms faded at the sight of stairs leading up to a small, open loft. A double bed, a small chair, and a dresser with no mirror filled the small space. Clinging to hope, she peeked behind two doors and found a closet and a bathroom.

Bare-bones best described the downstairs space. A cooking stove, refrigerator, table with two chairs sat against one wall next to a sink and countertop. A brown cloth couch faced a small television sitting on top of a small table.

Ty brought a couple of plastic bags inside and went back for the rest. When he returned, she was separating the clothes into his and hers piles on the couch.

"We'll keep the essentials out." He dropped a sack of food on the counter and joined her. "The rest goes into the duffle bags."

Ana's face heated at the sight of her new underwear spread out for him to see. She stuffed it into the bag, feeling a little foolish for being embarrassed.

"I'm hungry." He moved to the counter where he'd set the food.

The corners of his mouth lifted. At least he hadn't mentioned her unmentionables. The temperature in the room jumped ten degrees, and the ceiling fan chain was way out of her reach. Ana crawled onto the couch, stood up, and tried to grab the chain.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She lost her balance, wobbled, and placed her hand on the back of the couch to steady herself.

"You could've asked me to help."

Ty's hands gripped her waist. Ana turned in his grasp and looked down at him. Time stopped. The world quit turning. His scent, his heat, his body, everything about him was too close. Too close for her to ignore the desire. Too close for her not to kiss.

She angled her head, leaned down, and covered his lips with hers. He moaned a low guttural sound, opened his mouth and devoured hers. Again and again, their tongues mated, almost frantic, warring for more, driving her need to the point of begging. She wanted his hands and lips to caress every inch of her body. Wanted him inside her.

Ana slid her hand to the back of his head and held him against her. He moved from her lips to her jaw. Tilting her head, she gave him better access. Nipping his way down to her neck, his hand slid under her shirt and cupped her breast.

"Ty," she gasped his name.

His hand stilled and then dropped to his side. Breathing hard, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. The electricity between them vanished.

Nothing had ever been this simple to understand. His actions spoke loudly in the quiet room. He'd felt the scar on her chest and found it repulsive. Of course, he wouldn't want her.

Embarrassed beyond measure, she gathered her shredded pride and sat down hard. "I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry."

She stood. Quickly turning her back to him, she gathered her clothes, folding each piece in order to keep her trembling hands busy.

"Ana." His voice sounded labored but firm. "We have to talk."

She held her hand up, giving the traditional traffic cop signal to stop. Surprisingly, he shut up.

 "Enough. That never happened."

Ana grabbed her toiletries and a change of clothes. Seeking the privacy of the bathroom, she locked the door, stripped, and got in the shower before the water turned warm. She placed her hand over the scar between her breasts and let her tears mingle with the spray.

How long had it been since she'd been able to block the ugly mass of flesh from her mind? She usually froze when a man's hand strayed too close to her breastbone. Not many had seen her naked. One had pretended her scar didn't exist, another couldn't look at it. In Ty's arms, with his lips pressed to hers, she'd forgotten for a moment. It was just as well he'd rejected her.

Always a realist, she accepted she couldn't change what had happened. She'd dealt with loss, heartbreak, and shame before. No doubt, she'd survive making a fool of herself. She'd move on without trying to justify her actions. The job at hand was more important than her vanity.

She'd taken jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt to the bathroom instead of the sleep shirt she'd picked up at the store. Their current situation warranted sleeping fully clothed. 

Full of determination, she held her head high and opened the door, hoping to find the room empty. Damn, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a run of good luck. Obviously, it wouldn't start tonight, because there he sat with his hooded gaze trained on her.

Ignoring his presence, she climbed the stairs, crawled between the cool sheets, and faced the wall. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.

****

Manny stood on the balcony and looked out over his perfectly manicured lawn. He gripped the railing tightly. Many years had passed since anger had dominated his every thought, yet he couldn't shake the fire eating away his insides. Even here at his home, his sanctuary, where he came for peace, deception and discontent had infiltrated every waking moment.

Few people knew the location of his home and family. He'd built this palace, no fortress, where his heir could grow up safely. Today not even the sight of Enrique, his seventeen-year-old son, walking the perimeter with one of the guards lessened the fire burning in his stomach.

Just as Manny's father had turned the business over to him, someday the Ortega cartel and all its holdings would belong to the boy. He already had the mentality of a leader.
Nada
, absolutely nothing, would prevent him from inheriting the Ortega empire.

A soft knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts. Interruptions were becoming too frequent, pushing his tolerance to its limit.

"Come," he barked out the command. His longtime housekeeper and confidant stepped through the door. "What is it?"

"
Jefe
, forgive the intrusion. Carlo Medina insists on speaking with you."

"I'll talk to him."

"Line one." She nodded once before backing out of the room.

"Thank you, Anita." He spoke kindly to her because she'd earned his trust years ago. She ran the house and guards, tolerating nothing. The boy had been nine when Anita had taken on the additional responsibility of helping raise his son.

Had it been that long ago since his whore of a wife had taken a lover? How quickly time had passed. Manny had personally cut both their throats. He remembered that night fondly.

It reminded him of another time long ago. He'd killed many since then. Creating his empire meant proving he was stronger than anyone else. No one survived his wrath. Except Ana Vega Cisneros. She was his only failure. 

Manny unhurriedly moved to his desk and lifted the receiver. "Carlo, tell me you've accomplished your task, and you're coming home."

"I'm sorry, jefe." Carlo spoke softly as if he knew he stood on shaky ground. "The man and woman have disappeared. All our US contacts are looking for them."

"You called me to tell me this? What is your plan?" All of Manny's people were aware of his policy. If you brought him a problem, you'd better have a solution.

"Their plight has reached the news networks. Now there's a swarm of people looking for her. I may need more resources."

"I'll see what I can do."

Manny hung up before he had to listen to more excuses. He drummed his fingers on the desk's polished mahogany surface. His nerves needed a shot of tequila, but he'd promised to join Enrique outside. One quick call and he'd do just that.

The cartel had quite a few contacts in the US as many of the drug kingpins relied on him to supply their goods. But he dared not ask for a favor from drug pushers. What he needed was a specialist. He dialed the number and waited.

"Give me five minutes, and I'll call you back," the specialist said. His tone was laced with sweetness to mask the fact this was a business call.

"Five minutes." Manny disconnected and returned to the balcony. Enrique spotted him and waved, motioning him to hurry. "Soon," he called out loudly.