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Beyond His Control
She also had a lot more explaining to do than just, this all has to do with my current case. But he was skilled enough in interrogation to know that she’d tell him everything he needed to know one way or another. Having a history with her helped in that regard.
Of course, she also knew him well, too.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, the car pulled away.
She looked slightly shaken, but she was breathing and there was no blood. And she wasn’t staring up at him with that goddamned “you’re my hero” look he was pretty familiar with after he rescued someone on the job, which was good. He didn’t want hero worship from her.
What do you want from her?
The truth, he told himself firmly. And for a minute, he almost believed it.
AVA CLUTCHED Justin’s arm as she strained to listen for any signs of the other car’s return.
Her palm ached from where she’d held the gun so tightly, her heart beat faster as the earlier scene began to replay itself in her head. She couldn’t get past the sound of shots being fired, wouldn’t make the mistake of staring out the rear window that had been struck by a pair of bullets. It was one thing to practice shooting at a range and entirely another to be in the line of fire.
She much preferred the former and realized that the breathing thing was getting harder.
“Put your head between your legs and try to take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Justin was explaining, but his voice sounded far away, his drawl more pronounced…his large palm against her cheek.
What seemed like seconds later, mainly because that palm was less than gently slapping her cheek, she opened her eyes with a start. Her seat had been pushed all the way back and her gun was gone.
His hand shifted from her cheek to her neck, then reached down for her hand. For a second, she thought he was going to hold it.
“Your pulse is still racing,” he said, finger firmly on the point at her wrist. “You should stay down for a while.”
And then, for just a second, he did put his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze. His hand was big, reassuring, and if she pretended hard enough she could actually believe that there was something more in his touch than mere comfort.
When he took his hand away, she shifted to face him. “Did we lose them?” she asked, her voice hoarse as if she’d been screaming out loud for hours. In reality, she hadn’t, but inside her head she was still yelling.
“For now.” His voice was intense, his drawl nearly nonexistent.
“So why aren’t we moving?”
“We’ll have to sit for a while. They’ll circle around until they’re sure we’ve disappeared.” He glanced at the empty neighborhood. “I’ve also got to lose this car and these plates.”
“Around here? You’re going to steal a car?”
“I prefer to think of it as borrowing,” he said. “And no, not here, we’ll have to make do with this one for a while longer. At least until we get out of state.”
“Where are we going?”
“I was going to take you down to my place, in Norfolk, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” His hand, which had been playing along the steering wheel gripped it tighter, the muscle in his forearm flexed and she noted again how much bigger he’d gotten. All filled out—no more signs of the young man she’d known in high school. His hair was shorter now, but still as blond and he was still tanned, too.
He took a deep breath, as if he’d made a decision. “We’ll drive for a few hours, then stop before dawn. Rest, regroup. Decide what our next move should be. Until we know more about who’s threatening you, I don’t want you to have any contact with your office.”
“No one in the D.A.’s office has anything to do with this,” she insisted, but her voice sounded worried, even to her own ears.
“Unless you’re one hundred percent sure, I’m not taking any chances. Not when I promised your brother I’d take care of you until he could.” He paused. “What’s this new case all about?”
“It’s a domestic abuse case. I’ve prosecuted cases like this before and yes, I’ve been threatened before.” She gave him the pat answer, the easy answer.
“Like this?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Abusive husbands often try to control me the way they control their wives. I can’t let them win. I made a commitment to these women, to help them. Do you know how long it’s taken some of them to come forward, to finally trust someone?”
“I can only imagine.” His voice was tight again, and maybe, just maybe, he’d understand. At least she thought so until he spoke. “But you can’t put your life on the line for every case.”
“Does your SEAL team have that same motto?” she asked, and his lips pressed together in a grim line. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Justin.”
“In this case, I do. You’re going to need to listen to me, Ava.” And with that he straightened up and turned the key in the ignition.
She guessed his internal timeframe had told him it was safe to leave. Still, she noted that he didn’t switch on the car’s headlights until they were on the highway, headed southbound. “I’m doing all this for your own good.”
How many times had she heard that in her lifetime, from Justin, Leo, her father…even her mother?
She’d had no idea an hour ago that when she opened her door she’d be opening up the door to her past.
AVA HAD HER CELL PHONE out and she was dialing. And ignoring him and his advice. Just like old times. Which, in a way, was good. It meant she was bucking up under the pressure, that she wouldn’t completely fall apart. Yet.
He grabbed the phone from her. “What are you doing? You just agreed we weren’t going to tell anyone anything,” he said.
“I want to talk to Leo,” she said. “I want to talk with someone in the DEA office. If they know anything—anything at all that’s related to why my life’s at risk—I deserve to know.” She kicked the dashboard in frustration. Twice. Which made the front end of the POS rental car rattle.
“I know you do,” he said, trying to talk her down from the emotional ledge she’d worked herself onto.
“Maybe in your world having men shoot at you isn’t a big deal—”
“It’s always a big deal,” he said through gritted teeth. He shifted his hands on the steering wheel and then took a breath. She was shaken, badly, and when Ava was thrown off her game she reacted by lashing out at the nearest available person. Which, in high school, always seemed to be him.
But this wasn’t high school. They were all grown up and this was all too damn real. “I need you to tell me everything that happened to you today. You can start with the informant, or think back, if there was anything else out of the ordinary that happened. Maybe something you’ll only notice in hindsight …did you feel like you were being followed? Have you been seeing the same man for the past few days and thought it was just one of those weird coincidences?”
“No, I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. I’ve just been working—ninety-hour weeks. I barely have time to lift my head and notice the world around me.”
That was Ava. She’d always thrown herself headfirst into whatever her cause or interest had been. Like a whirlwind, she gave all her time, devotion and energy until she’d completed the latest project to her satisfaction.
“You’ve got to tell me everything you know about this case you’re working on,” Justin insisted.
“I shouldn’t be telling you any of it.”
“Under typical circumstances, I’d respect the need for confidentiality. But this has gone way beyond that—I need to know what we’re up against.”
Ava stared out the windshield as she told him about Susie and Robert Mercer in halting words, as though she was trying not to give away more than necessary.
“So you met with the informant, he tells you that your newest client, who’s disappeared off the face of the earth, is the wife of a man who’s the son of one of the biggest drug traffickers—which is information you already knew. And then you come home to find pictures of yourself.”
“That about sums it up,” she said. “It’s not good that Sammy has that information—it’s not good that he knows that I know who Robert Mercer really is. Before this, the D.A.’s office was only supposed to know about the domestic abuse charge. My boss didn’t want us to give away our hand, not until the police and the federal marshals got involved.”
She was looking down at her hands, her nails short, manicured with a light, no-nonsense polish, but he’d bet anything that her toes were painted a fire-engine red, or maybe purple. Something unexpected under all the logic.
He had the nagging sense that she was holding something back, but he let it go for the moment. “Did you tell him that?”
“I did. He refused to tell me where he’d gotten the information.” She shook her head. “He’s low level…I don’t know why someone would just offer up that tidbit to him.”
“He could’ve been in the right place at the right time.”
“Or it was a giant setup, like you said before. A way to get me out of the house.” She paused. “A way to scare the hell out of me.”
Ava might be scared now, but what these men didn’t realize was that the fear wouldn’t last long, it’d be replaced quickly by her natural fighting instincts.
“We’ll stop just before dawn,” he said. “I’m going to have to figure out what to do with this car. I can’t be sure someone didn’t see us leave. I don’t know if the guys who came after you were watching your house.”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Ava whispered before she turned away from him to stare out the window into the darkness.
WHEN LEO HAD FIRST gotten wind that Susie Mercer had gone to the D.A.’s office to file a charge of domestic abuse, then also confessed to knowing her husband’s dealings with the O’Rourke family and refused federal protection, he’d wanted to bang his head against the wall.
When he found out Ava was lead counsel for the prosecution for both the domestic abuse charge and the possible indictment of Robert Mercer for being involved with the O’Rourkes, he did just that. Twice. And the headache that followed was nothing compared to the way his head pounded now.
The D.A.’s office didn’t realize that their secret information regarding Mercer’s hidden criminal connection wasn’t nearly as secret as they thought.
As he slid his leather jacket on, he wondered if he’d ever be able to recognize himself in the mirror again. Too much scruff on his face, hair too long, a far cry from his usual suit and tie, official DEA office wear.
You wanted undercover. Be careful what you wish for.
He’d gotten bored with the usual action, the paperwork. The bullshit bureaucracy that seemed to haunt every one of his work assignments while he slammed through the ranks.
Hearing about Justin’s travels all over God’s green earth hadn’t quelled his instincts to play hard and work even harder. Turk had known military life wasn’t for him, but he’d been surprised at just how badly he’d wanted to take a walk on the darker side of life.
He hadn’t wanted to take his sister down that path with him, had been glad when she’d refused to work for the DEA as one of their team of lawyers, no matter how hard they’d tried to recruit her.
When he made contact with his office yesterday he’d received the news that Ava was on the Mercer case, looking to put the people he’d been investigating for months behind bars, but on charges that wouldn’t stick without the information the DEA had been carefully gathering.
The link between Robert Mercer and the O’Rourke clan was little known outside the tight-knit world Leo had infiltrated. Until Susie had come forward with a domestic abuse claim—and Robert Mercer had panicked.
The O’Rourkes hadn’t panicked. They planned on doing what they did best—protecting their own interests by trying to grab Susie first.
Except that Susie Mercer suddenly went missing and couldn’t be located through FBI, or any of the other law enforcement agency channels.
On the O’Rourke estate, Leo heard rumors that O’Rourke’s men had orders to kill whoever was assisting Susie or would be closely involved with a possible trial.
He wasn’t sure what else to do but call in Justin.
He trusted Justin with his life, with Ava’s, but this was bigger than all of them and more dangerous than the DEA had originally conceived.
Anyone going after Ava would have had to have researched her family. Leo’d taken precautions but hadn’t exactly erased himself…if they’d gone through Ava’s house, seen pictures…
It was a leap, but not a huge one. Once he knew Ava was in his buddy’s care, he could relax momentarily, move to the next phase of his job and figure out the rest later.
4
JUST BEFORE THREE in the morning, they crossed the border from Pennsylvania into Maryland. Justin steered the car onto an exit ramp. Nearby a sign boasted lodging.
Ava had waited in the car while he went into the front office and got them a room, and then he’d driven them around the back of the motel, to a room on the first floor.
The room, the entire motel, left a lot to be desired, but they were in no position to be picky. At least it was clean, tacky orange and brown furnishings aside.
Justin was doing something to the front door of the room with wires, and she didn’t bother to ask what.
“You’ll probably want something more comfortable to sleep in. You can grab a shirt and shorts from my bag,” he told her without turning around from what he was doing.
They hadn’t spoken much during the past hour of their trip. She’d been so wrapped up in the mounting enormity of her situation and he was, no doubt, angry with her. Now, as she rifled through his bag and pulled out some clothes, the reality of what had happened began to hit home.
In the privacy of the bathroom she contemplated the sudden and complete train wreck her life had become in less than four hours, thought about the work she’d left behind—all her cases, all her clients…Callie…
It had been a long time since Ava had had any close female friends, if she ever really had them at all. In high school, the girls all wanted to be friends with her because of Leo and Justin, so she hadn’t trusted them. During college, she’d put her nose to the grindstone so she could graduate a year early, and although she’d had her share of dates, getting close to anyone hadn’t been her priority.
But when she’d met Callie last year, the women had clicked immediately. Callie loved her job and had, in a roundabout way, begun to help Ava love what she was doing again as well.
She’d confided in Callie about her love life. About Justin and a fiancé who’d given her an ultimatum. And so, for the first time in forever when she actually had a girlfriend she could confide in, Ava wasn’t even able to reach out to her for help.
She could only reach out to Justin.
As she’d stripped off her T-shirt and jeans, she realized she was shivering again.
She wasn’t going to fall apart, not when there was so much on the line.
She put the shorts on first, then pulled Justin’s T-shirt over her head, pausing for a minute to smell the combination of freshly laundered shirt that still contained a hint of the Justin she remembered, like fresh air and raw, uninhibited energy.
Justin was sitting in the chair across from the bed, waiting for her. “Don’t touch the windows or the door,” he warned. “They’re alarmed.”
“Okay,” she said, grateful at the moment that Justin was some kind of one-man army. Navy. Whatever.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? I could run out and get you something…”
“No.” She shook her head, almost wishing Justin wasn’t treating her with such kid gloves.
“You should get some sleep, then.” He’d drawn the curtains tightly. She’d never have known the sun was just dawning.
“I’m a little too keyed up to sleep,” she admitted. “There’s so much I left behind, so much unfinished.”
“I heard you were engaged,” he said suddenly. “Will your fiancé be worried about you? Will he alert the police?”
“We’re taking a break,” she said, and Justin was silent for a second. “He’s not even in the country,” she added, because Justin still wasn’t saying anything.
“Oh. Okay.” He paused, then asked, “He’s a desk jockey, isn’t he?”
“Not everyone has the desire to be a big, bad Navy SEAL. But if you must know, he’s a commodities trader. He moved to Japan for a year and he wanted me to go with him.” He’d given her a ring after two months of dating, even though she’d protested. After five months of her duck-and-run routine, he’d gotten tired and taken the job. And she’d returned the ring.
“Okay.”
“Could you stop saying okay?”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” he asked instead, and suddenly she realized that okay was much, much better.
“Because I’m not following someone around the globe. I have my own life. Subject closed.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I’d go back to okay, but that seems to annoy you,” he said. And he was smiling a bit, with that still-familiar look he always gave her—the look she hadn’t been able to forget, a cross between amusement and indulgence. It was the indulgence part she’d always counted on. The part he probably didn’t even know he was giving away.
It was nice to have at least something on him because truthfully he drove her crazy. This was treacherous territory. Heartbreaking.
Nine years should be long enough for anything to fade, but it had never been easy between them. And with both she and her brother in trouble, difficult was par for the course.
JUSTIN SWORE he could hear the wheels in Ava’s head spinning at full speed. She nibbled her bottom lip, and suddenly there it was—the serious look on her face tempered by the freckles on her nose and cheeks, and a gleam in her eye that meant she could never, ever be tamed.
He knew people would spend a lifetime trying anyway.
He never got why someone would want to restrain something so free and wild. Run it a bit, harness it, yes, he got that. He’d tried to help where Ava was concerned, do his part, until she’d started to resent him and he got tired of being the daddy and everything blew up in their teenage faces.
That would happen again if he didn’t start pulling it together and figuring out what to do next.
He refused to let it happen. Not this time. He didn’t want to head back to base with his tail between his legs and admit to his friends and SEAL teammates, like Hunt and Rev, the extent of his longing. Well, Cash knew already.
“How do you do this?” She’d begun to pace like a caged animal. “How do you just sit around and wait?”
“Normally, I’m on the offensive. In the field. I don’t babysit for a living,” he said quietly. “I know it’s frustrating. But right now, the best thing we can do is get you out of harm’s way and let Turk do his job.” He saw her eyes soften a bit at the mention of her brother.
“Do you think we’ll hear from Leo?” she asked.
“Probably not. It’s better that way.”
“But he’s got the DEA backing him, right?”
“Yes,” Justin said patiently, but he knew she wouldn’t trust what he said fully. She knew better. The world of undercover operations wasn’t always a play-by-the-rules type of situation, and the very fact that Turk had sent Justin in meant her brother could possibly be in way over his head.
She stared him down hard. “Do you ever go on missions where no one’s backing you? No ID, nothing?”
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Yes, I know. Classified. You and Leo are all sorts of classified,” she muttered.
“Just like you and your current case,” he tried to refute, tried to bring it around to something she could understand.
“That’s different, and you know it,” she countered. “You can’t protect me forever.”
“Do you think I want to do this? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life cleaning up after you?” He struggled to keep his voice tight, controlled. Stay rational.
“I stopped knowing what you wanted years ago. And I never asked you to clean up after me. That was always my father and Leo’s doing.”
“I never knew what you wanted,” he said, aware that he couldn’t hide the anger. “You never did either—that was a big part of the problem between us.”
“Us?” She laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. “There was never any us, Justin. That was the real problem.”
Her words hit him harder than he thought they would, harder than they should have. Maybe they’d never gotten together, but that hadn’t been from lack of want on his part. No, he’d had to tread lightly around Ava for many reasons—she was the sister of his best friend, she’d become one of his best friends…she hadn’t wanted to get serious with anyone who was considering a career more dangerous than sitting at a desk. She’d told him that, time and time again.
There was never any us, Justin.
No, there was no way he’d ever believe that. He might never have done anything about it, but that had been for her benefit, not his. He’d promised himself he’d never come back into her life when he couldn’t give her what she wanted—someone safe.
“I know you’re hurt—upset. Scared, even. But don’t you dare sit there and try and tell me there was never anything between us, Ava.” His words came out fierce, without reservation. Her green eyes were wide as she watched him. But he strode over and turned the light out because he couldn’t look at her anymore, couldn’t stand to see the pain there. “Get some sleep. We’ve got a long stretch ahead of us.”
For once, she didn’t argue with him. He heard the shift of the blankets as she lay down, but he knew sleep wouldn’t come easily for either of them anytime soon.
CALLIE STANTON unconsciously twirled a strand of long, dark hair around her finger while she pored over the case files she’d brought home with her. Great companionship on a Friday night.
Not that she had many other choices.
Another long night faced her, and she’d already gone through her share of Diet Coke in an attempt to keep her eyes from drifting shut again. Sighing, she repositioned herself on the couch since her feet were starting to fall asleep.
She should be happy for the downtime, when she wasn’t racing to help anyone, when she wasn’t headed to the hospital to counsel a victim. Or worse. But she knew exactly why she wasn’t content.
This was the time the loneliness hit her the hardest, like a sudden, sharp ache, so fierce she actually had to force a breath in and out.
One day, my prince will come…
Her mom used to sing that song as she would twirl around the small kitchen of the brand-new apartment, the one she’d rented for them after they’d left Callie’s abusive father. At the time, it had been forever since she’d heard her mother sing, let alone smile. In that tiny room, it was as if she’d been reborn.
Callie’s mom never remarried, but she did date and finally ended up with a man who loved her to pieces.
Callie never allowed herself to open up as easily. Between her past and the jobs she held, the day job and the secret one, she probably never would.
The sudden, loud knocking at the door did what the caffeine was supposed to as the thumping in her chest could attest to. Hesitantly, she went and looked out the peephole.
Men in suits.
“What do you want?” she called through the heavy apartment door.
“FBI, ma’am. You’re going to need to come with us.”
Her skin chilled and she prayed this had nothing to do with Susie’s case. “For what reason?”
“Ava Turkowski,” was all they said, all they needed to say, before she unlocked the door and swung it wide open.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s missing. You need to come with us, ma’am,” one of the men repeated.
Ava. Missing. Not good.
She grabbed her keys, shoved her feet into her old sneakers, glad she was still dressed in the jeans and button-down shirt she’d worn that day.