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39
Annie
Cole closed his arms around me and instantly turned away from Bevington's yard and everything there. He was already moving me back toward a Hummer that stood, motor running.
I stopped him. He hadn't picked me up, maybe because I was more of a target if he did – he could shelter more of my body with his if we were both upright – but ushered me ahead of him.
I stopped walking and turned in his arms and went up on tiptoe, kissing him hard enough to bruise. Only one of my arms would go around his neck. That was enough.
His hands tightened around my back, pressing me into him as if meaning to crush me. When our mouths came apart, he said, "Bad place for this."
I nodded and looked past him, making him jolt a little to try and keep me where I was. I wasn't going anywhere. I was making sure of my posse.
Lettie was right behind Cole, looking a little confused or maybe overwhelmed. She hadn't been out of Bevington's house in months. Mia and Nikki were behind her, looking back and forth between the law enforcement ranged around us and at Bevington and his security goons, as if constantly reassuring themselves the danger was over.
I thought it was, but I had some residual feelings myself about that. It was the fear that Bevington might stand back up like the villain in a horror movie, alive when he shouldn't be. Not that he was dead. Just that he was supposed to not be a threat anymore. I had that Hollywood jump scare fear that at any minute he'd be after me again.
Might take a while for that to fade. Maybe at least as long as it took the burn to heal.
What I wanted to do was ask questions and make sure what was happening. What Cole wanted to do was load me into an ambulance and get me and my blood soaked shoulder to a hospital.
We compromised. I let the EMTs treat me if Cole would answer my questions during. It wasn't like we could keep this from getting out. The police cars out front were local sheriff's department.
Yet there was still some secrecy. We spoke in a modified way, watching every word and how much information we gave out. Knowing each other after more than a year together helped that.
"Two men drove me to Arizona," I said, wincing as one of the techs did something to my shoulder that hurt. They'd cut my shirt off and were working around my black lace bra. For once I wasn't even vaguely humiliated at that.
The one monitoring my vitals, working from my left side as the other worked on the bullet in my right, said, "We can give you painkiller for this."
I hissed, because damn, that would be nice. I met Cole's eyes and saw no judgement there. Whatever I decided, he'd support, and worry about the results later.
"No, you can't," I said regretfully "I'm a recovering addict." I thought I saw respect in his eyes, then, though I'd rather have seen a needle in his hand. Getting shot fucking hurts.
Eventually a day would come when I'd have to use a painkiller. I wasn't going to go through a root canal, for example, without Novocain and lots of it. But for today, I'd take Cole's eyes and find my strength there.
Or maybe somewhere within myself, untouched depths I hadn't realized were still there.
"About the drivers," I said. I meant to tell Cole there were two but one needed to be allowed to walk. Or something. I wasn't sure how to put it so he'd get the fact that Theo wasn't what Chad was and we had to watch his cover didn't get blown. I was 99 percent sure Theo was undercover and even if I was wrong, I wanted him to skate on this one.
Whatever information Cole had, he didn't share then, but he looked me directly in the eye and said, "You must have been drugged. Only one man drove you to Arizona. Chad Williams. He's in federal custody."
Well, that was unlikely, if not impossible, but it let me know what I needed to know. Theo was being protected and Chad had transported me across state lines – twice – for immoral purposes of sex. That violated the Mann Act and took the whole thing to federal levels.
My shoulder was stabilized and we were about to roll. I asked for a minute to talk to the girls who were with me and to talk to Cole. The driver and the tech both bristled and started to talk about blood loss and mobility and Cole, being Cole, simply turned on the billionaire and got the entire buss to ourselves for no more than three minutes the tech emphasized.
Without the medics there, we could talk less guardedly, though I didn't go back to Theo.
"What happened to Raven and Evie?"
Cole kissed me, then squatted down in front of me in that easy way men have of making balancing on their toes look simple. "Raven was picked up ten minutes ago. There were feds on the ground already in Kingman. They were working a case, looking for traffickers. Your information turned it around for them. Made it faster and gave them proof."
"Hearsay," I said. That felt gloomy.
Cole shook his head. He was smiling though it looked strained. "The trackers you're wearing instantly malfunctioned."
I thought he was about to apologize, which would have been one too many weird and surreal things in a day. I put my good hand out and said, "You're here now. You found me. And they're not giving us a lot of time." I nodded out the open back door of the bus where the two EMTs stood watching their phones – undoubtedly timing us – and making sure we didn't steal the ambulance.
Cole nodded. "The trackers kept fucking up but they did produce a trail."
