DOMINIC (Dragon Security Book 3) (3 page)

“I’m sadistic? Who was the one who got a kick out of being tied to the bed?”

“That was a long time ago,” I said, a blush working its way up my face. “Things change.”

“You don’t like a little kinky sex anymore? That’s too bad.”

My face was burning now. “Did Emily? Were we alike in that way?”

He glanced at me, but he didn’t say anything.

Score one for me.

He turned the truck off the interstate, and within a few minutes, we were stopped at the tollbooth arms. He reached over and grabbed a ticket, barely waiting for the arm to get out of the way. He parked at the back of a long-term lot, pausing to put up a sun shield before he turned to me.

“We’re going to have to go inside the airport. Will you behave, or do I need to subdue you?”

“What does that mean?”

He cocked an eyebrow like it was obvious and I was just too slow to understand.

“Why don’t you just let me go? Why do you need me?”

“Because I’d rather not have your murder blamed on me, too.”

My blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”

“When was the last time you saw Emily?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t seen her since Paris.”

His brow knitted together. “Amy, this is really important. I need to know what you know so that I can figure out what everyone else knows.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“Let me take it a little slower then. When is the last time you saw your sister?”

“I haven’t.”

“But she’s been back for eighteen months.”

I started to shake my head and ask him how he knew that. But that was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?

“You were still seeing her?”

“Amy—”

“Of course you were! The two of you must have had a blast laughing behind my back! Were you together when we were in college? When you were living with me?”

“We don’t have time for this right now.”

“Then when will we have time?”

Instead of answering me, he reached into the back seat of his massive truck and grabbed a rather large duffle. He reached inside and pulled out a t-shirt, then came around to open my door. He unlocked the handcuff attached to the handrail, getting my hopes up that he was going to free me. But then he snapped it on his own wrist and then wrapped the t-shirt over the whole contraption, making it look like we were simply holding hands under some sort of oddly shaped scarf.

“You’re seriously going to do this?”

“I can’t allow you to get away from me.”

“Why? You had no interest in being close to me two years ago.”

“Amy…”

He rolled his eyes even as he reached over me to grab his bag. As he did, his chest pressed hard against me, his scent enveloping me. He smelled different. When we were in college, he used cheap cologne. This was clearly not a cheap brand. And his shirt…no more throwing everything into a single load in the basement laundry room for him, I guessed. It smelled like professional cleaning. Like he had a nice house and a maid and all the luxury a single man could desire.

I really didn’t know him anymore.

How could so much change in such a short amount of time?

“Who’s Megan?”

He moved back, tossing his bag over his shoulder. “My boss.”

“Are you in love with her?”

He chuckled under his breath. “First I’m still sleeping with your sister, and now I’m also sleeping with my boss.”

“You don’t have to sleep with someone to be in love with them.”

He jerked his arm, the one with the handcuff around the wrist, and pulled me out of the truck.

“You don’t speak unless spoken to, understand? Don’t go screaming for help in the middle of the airport. Don’t try to make eye contact with strangers. You do what I say when I say it. Got it?”

“I’ve got it.”

He walked quickly, forcing me to nearly run in order to keep up with him. Every time he swung his arm away from me, the cuffs rubbed against my bones. I gritted my teeth, snatching his hand in order to keep the rubbing from happening. Our hands moved together naturally, my fingers sliding between his like they were meant to be there. He didn’t fight it. In fact, I thought I felt him squeeze my hand lightly.

I know I didn’t imagine him tugging me closer to his side.

We walked into the massive airport at the American Airlines terminal and made our way through the crowd at the security checkpoint, moving away from the cops and TSA people searching for potential terrorists. He seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go, dragging me to the other side of the building where the arrivals were meant to stream out onto the sidewalk. I thought he might go to the car rental counters, but he didn’t. Instead, he dragged me outside to where the shuttles came and went at regular intervals.

“What hotel?” the older man on the kiosk asked.

“The Four Seasons.”

I glanced at Dominic, but his expression was unreadable.

The man handed us tickets and directed us to a bench across the narrow lane.

“Why are we going to a hotel? Don’t you think the cops will check all the hotels?”

He glared at me. “Quiet.”

“I want to know what’s going on!”

We reached the bench and took a seat. He dropped the bag between his feet, glancing around at the people flowing out the doors. We must have arrived just as a couple of planes vomited their contents. Then he leaned close to me, his lips so close to the side of my neck that my heart skipped a beat as his warm breath danced over my overheated skin.

“We’ll rent a car there and get out of town until things start to cool off.”

“How long will that be? My sister’s funeral is in a few days.”

I felt him stiffen slightly even as he loosened his hold on my hands. “I’ll try to get you back for it.”

“Thank you.”

He straightened and leaned forward, touching his bag like he needed to make sure it was still there. My hand was sweating under the t-shirt, my wrist sore from the sharp edges of the cuff. But, at the same time, I was hyperaware of his closeness, of the warmth radiating from the length of his body where it was pressed against mine. He was wearing dark jeans that were stretched fairly tightly over his thighs and a dark shirt that was fairly loose around his waist. I remembered him reaching behind him to pull his gun and found myself wondering if it was still there. I couldn’t remember what happened to it after he faced down that guy on the street in front of the florist.

“Who was that man? The one who got into the dark sedan?”

He turned his head, our noses less than an inch apart.

“That’s the real bad guy, Amy.”

I don’t know why, but I believed him.

Dominic

The sun was starting to set, the bright light burning into my head. I had a headache that had begun almost the minute I left Houston, and it was refusing to let up. It didn’t help that Amy sat in the passenger seat of the rented sedan and stared out the window, refusing to interact with me in any way at all.

We’d been driving for hours. I had a friend in California I knew would help us. He and Emily were the only ones—besides me—who knew everything that I knew. Maybe even more. Emily clearly learned something, or stumbled on something, or accidentally allowed someone to know what she was doing. Why else would they be coming after her now? It’d been two years.

“Did you kill her?”

I glanced over at Amy. Those were the first words she’d spoken since we left Dallas.

“You think I did. Why bother asking?”

“I think my sister was dying when she called me and said nothing but your name.”

“What else did she say?”

“Nothing.”

I gripped the wheel a little harder. “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

“We’ve been over this, haven’t we? I haven’t seen her since Paris. I told her to get out of my life, to disappear. She never came to see me.”

“But maybe she did.”

She shook her head, but I knew Emily. She couldn’t stay away from Amy. Being in Paris, so far from her, was almost impossible for her. She talked about Amy all the time, about how much she missed her. We’d looked at pictures together and talked about the things we’d done together. We’d shared letters she sent us. Emily adored her sister. They were twins.

I glanced at Amy. She was staring out the window still.

“We were together for three years,” she said softly. “I don’t understand how things could change so quickly.”

“They didn’t change, Amy. You overreacted and wouldn’t allow us the chance to explain.”

“Overreacted? You were kissing my sister!”

“It wasn’t what you think it was.”

“What else could it be? You had your tongue down her throat. And your hand…” She grunted, her free hand brushing over her eyes. “I thought you loved me.”

“Amy…”

“I can’t be here with you. Why are you doing this?”

“She texted me. She said someone was following you.”

She sat up a little straighter, tugging at the handcuff around her wrist, the other end connected to the door handle. She turned slightly so that she could see my face.

“What do you mean?”

“I was hoping you knew. She didn’t give much information. She was hoping I’d call her back, but I had my phone turned off.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Have you seen anything? Anything unusual?”

“No.”

I gripped the wheel a little harder, the wheels in my head spinning. I wasn’t sure how all this fit together. I saw Emily just a few weeks ago. She was upbeat and happy, convinced that something was about to break.

We’re going to do this, Dominic. We’re finally going to finish what we started in Afghanistan.

But this…
fuck
, I felt responsible. I should have been there. I should have stopped this from happening to her. We were partners…and I let her down.

“Did you love her?”

I gripped the wheel a little harder.

“Go to sleep, Amy. We have a long night ahead of us.”

***

We drove all night, Amy sleeping at an awkward angle because of the handcuffs. It was a little before noon when we hit the outer part of San Diego. I pulled over outside a small diner so that we could freshen up a little. And I needed a burner phone. I’d left my cellphone in the truck so the police couldn’t use it to track us.

“Are you going to let me go? We can’t exactly pee together.”

“Why not?”

She shot me a dirty look. “Because the last time I pulled down my pants for you
was
the
last
time.”

I was exhausted and not really in the mood to argue. If she wanted to take off now, out here, over twelve hundred miles from home, she could do it for all I cared.

I undid the handcuffs and waved her off, climbing out of my side of the car as slowly as I could so that I didn’t make any of the aches and pains of sitting in one position for so long any worse. I watched her walk away, admiration for the way her body moved sinking in despite my exhaustion. She was such a beautiful woman. And she still seemed so familiar even though it had been so long since we’d been together.

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t missed her, that I hadn’t thought of her nearly every day since she walked out of my life. But that didn’t mean I held out hope that we’d manage to get back together.

I shook myself, touched my toes to stretch out my muscles, and walked into the diner. I washed up in the restroom, then took a seat in an empty booth. The waitress came bouncing over, her middle-aged body still tight and clearly open for business. She leaned close so I’d get a good look at her cleavage and asked, “What can I get for you, sweetie?”

“Coke. And an omelet.”

“Ham and cheese okay?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

She smiled widely, still leaning over a little too far. “Toast.”

“You read my mind.”

She touched my arm before walking off. I leaned forward and sank my fingers in my hair, barely holding my head off the table. Staying up for twenty-four hours wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with, but it’d been a while. Working for Dragon was definitely easier on the body than serving in the military. With a little caffeine, I’d be good to go again.

Amy hadn’t come back from the bathroom. My food arrived before she did. I dug in, telling myself if she wanted to face what was coming alone, she could be my guest. But I was growing worried despite myself when she was still not there by the time I finished my breakfast.

I tossed a twenty on the table and walked out, crossing the dusty parking lot to the rental. She’d had the airport, she could have called out and attracted the attention of a cop. She had the hotel where we waited for forty minutes in the lobby for the rental to be delivered. She never said a word; she never argued with anything I had to say. Why would she run now?

I popped the trunk and pulled my 9mm out of the duffle. I was careful to lock the car before crossing back to the diner, kicking in the door to the women’s restroom.

“Amy?”

Nothing.

I turned and left the diner, walking around the side of the building. She was there, leaning against the back wall near the door, the sounds of a busy, working kitchen floating out around her. She had her eyes closed, her hands trapped behind her body.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped a little, standing straighter when she turned to face me.

“I called a taxi. It should be here in a few minutes.”

“How do you plan to pay for it?”

She shrugged. “I’m sure the cops will be willing to pitch in when they hear my story.”

I nodded, sliding the gun into the back of my jeans. “Sure.”

I walked back to the front of the building, stepping inside the small tourist shop attached to the diner to get a phone. She came up behind and grabbed my arm.

“Aren’t you going to try to stop me?”

“Should I?”

“You dragged me off the street, kidnapping me right in front of my dad. And now you’re going to let me go?”

“I don’t suppose the men after you followed us all the way out here. Or they might have. But if you don’t want my help, I’m not going to force you to accept it.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

I snatched a phone off a rack where dozens of others hung, then turned to stare her down.

“You think I’m being an ass? I’m trying to find the men who killed your sister so that they might be stopped, and you think I’m the one being an ass? What about you, Amy? You don’t even know what the fuck is going on around here.”

I brushed past her and took the phone to the counter. The cashier looked bored as he rang up my purchase and accepted the cash I handed him. When I turned again, Amy was standing by the door, waiting.

I stepped around her and headed back out to the rental, using the key fob to pop the locks. I had a dozen phone calls I needed to make, and I wasn’t sure I could remember all the numbers. I was never good at memorizing numbers.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. “You’re being hunted by people who will stop at nothing to bring you down. That’s all you really need to know.”

“What about Emily? How would she know I was in danger?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she was watching you and they saw her. Maybe they thought she gave you something because you’re her sister.”

“What would Emily have to give me? She was an art student.”

“Emily was much more than you think she was. There was so much she couldn’t tell you.”

“Like what?”

I shook my head, still not sure how to tell her everything I knew. I wasn’t even sure she would believe me if I told her…and that would only put us right back where we started. That was the last place I wanted to be.

“What do you know about my sister that I don’t?” Amy demanded, her voice rising a few octaves. “Why did you know she was back in Texas when I didn’t? Why was she texting you when she wasn’t talking to me?”

“Amy,” I said softly, as she approached me, anger etched in every line of her face.

“Why? Why did she say your name as she lay dying in the front seat of her car?”

“Because she wanted you to let me help you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know who killed her.”

That stopped Amy short. She stared at me, her eyes wide with something…not surprise, but something like it.

“Who?”

“It’s complicated. Like I said, there are things you don’t know about Emily.”

“And you do.”

A taxi pulled into the parking lot behind her and honked its horn. She didn’t even look at it. She simply climbed into the passenger seat of the rented sedan and snapped the handcuff back around her wrist.

She was submitting to me. I just wished the sight of it didn’t leave me with a terrible lump in my stomach.