Drive (11 page)

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Authors: Sidney Bristol

BOOK: Drive
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“I know, I know. I put the tracker on there before we hashed the hell out of that.” He eased back onto the street, following the red path. He smacked the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “What if one of his idiots chased you somewhere? What if you needed help and just got a connecting call to me before it was cut off? I did what I thought was best for your protection.”
She held her tongue, anger and panic at the loss of her bike warring for her attention. So much for trust. He couldn't have asked her? A simple, reasonable explanation would have won her over.
How was she going to get to work and school if the bike was gone? Who was behind this?
She peered at the phone screen while he took a left turn. A red dot blinked to the left of the yellow circle that was the car.
“Fuck.”
Aiden turned into a dark, deserted parking lot. His headlights reflected off the green, glittery paint of part of the body. A wheel was propped up against the side of the boarded-up building.
Madison's breath froze in her lungs.
Her bike.
It wasn't a fast bike, or really impressive, but it had been hers. The means to a better life, an education, freedom, that bike carried her hopes and dreams.
She pushed her door open, ignoring Aiden's stern “Wait.”
She tromped through a puddle, one hand clapped over her mouth and water splashing her ankles. In a way, the bike was her future. It wasn't like she had a neighbor she could hitch a ride with, and she'd need every last penny to pay for the summer semester.
The custom paint job was chipped and now had black spray paint marring the surface. The bike itself was in several pieces.
There was no fixing this.
“Madison,” Aiden growled, and grasped her by her shoulders, the heat of his body warming her back. There was a gun in his hand aimed at the shadows.
She hugged her arms around herself. Desperation and loss threatened to drown her. She glanced around them, looking for the threat, but one didn't materialize.
“Go back to the car.” He gently turned her and pushed her back to the Chevelle.
“Is someone out there?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
“I don't know.”
“Who did this?” She wheeled around, but he caught her once more by her shoulders. The gun pressed into her shoulder, an ever present reminder that they were still in danger.
“I don't know.” He tightened his grip on her. “Madison, stop. I'll figure out who did this, but it would not be a good idea to call the police and tell them we found the bike. What we need to do is have you report it as missing. Let the cops find it. Insurance will take care of the rest.”
She cringed. Sure, the bike was insured, but it wasn't worth much. Not enough to get her another set of wheels. She needed to call her boss, let them know she was out indefinitely until she could get a new ride. Maybe summer school was out of the question until she rebounded from this, but then that would put her plans behind schedule, and she couldn't double up on classes in the fall. She might have to take an absence from derby.
Aiden steered her to the car and helped her into her seat. He went back to the pieces of her bike, tucking the gun into his waistband. The seat torn up and the body dented and busted. He knelt next to it and tugged a bandanna that had hung from his back pocket. He pulled something out from under what had been the fender and wrapped it in the cloth.
The tracking device. Right. He wouldn't want someone finding that.
He strode back to the car, his features blank and unreadable as ever.
Aiden said he cared about what happened to her. Did he really?
The headlights reflected off her helmet lodged in some bushes. An eleven was painted on it.
Aiden stepped into the beam of light, blocking the eleven from view. Could she trust him to fix this, too? She wanted to believe in him.
Chapter Eleven
Aiden dropped into the car, dread rolling in his gut.
The Eleventh was getting bolder. He couldn't ignore the threat they posed to his team—much less Madison. He closed the door and turned toward her. The sight of tears trickling down her cheek felt like a sucker punch.
Madison wasn't the kind of woman who cried. She was bold and ballsy.
“Hey. Hey.” He reached across and brushed the moisture from her cheek.
She flinched away from him, as if she hadn't been aware of his presence, and wrapped her arms around herself.
This was his fault. He'd make it right, but first he needed to take care of her.
He leaned an arm on the back of her seat, hating how she hunched over, drawing in on herself.
She continued to stare at her bike and drew in a deep breath. “I need to call work, let them know I can't come in. I'll have to find something cheap to replace it. I think I've got a couple grand for school I can use. Someone will have to give me a ride to the bout tomorrow and—”
“Madison. Look at me, please.”
Her frown deepened. She had a right to be pissed at him. It was only because of him that Canales had her in his sights at all. He watched her eyes dry and that stubborn, determined glint lit up once more. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned toward him, her jaw thrust forward and her lips tightly compressed.
He could handle her anger. The tears, though, those made him want to make everything better with no care to what else had to happen.
Aiden rested his hand on her knee, her body heat soaking through the denim.
“I'm going to take care of this. Canales isn't going to bother you again. Let's go back to the track and call in the missing bike. They can do the rest.” It was time to get the Hoovers in on this. If the Eleventh posed a danger to her and their operation, they could send in the DEA to hit them hard and take the threat out.
“And what am I supposed to do? How am I going to get home? What about work? And getting to and from practice? I have a fucking bout tomorrow. What am I supposed to do about that?” Her voice broke and he could see the sheen of fresh tears in her eyes.
Not the tears, anything but the tears.
“I'm going to take care of it.” He didn't know how, but it wasn't like he was hurting for cars. He'd think of something for her.
Her brows drew down and he could see the distrust taking root. It shouldn't bother him, it wasn't like he needed her trust to do his job, but it rankled him.
“Give me a chance to make it right, okay?” He squeezed her knee, but her wall of anger didn't seem to be coming down anytime soon.
Aiden slipped the gun out from his waistband and tucked it under his thigh. If the Eleventh was stepping up their game, it was time to pay them some attention. He sat back into his seat and shifted into drive. They needed to go back to the track, Emery would have to do his thing and magic away any footage of them on the trail of her bike. It was another complication he didn't need.
He wouldn't be leaving her side. Not unless he could be assured the Eleventh wouldn't go after her. The bike was a thing of opportunity. He could understand that, even if she didn't. Canales was escalating, going from threats to damage of property—Aiden didn't think it would take much for him to go after a person. While he could handle himself, Madison wouldn't stand a chance.
They pulled into the parking lot of Flagler Dog Track. He stuck to the back of the lot and shifted into park.
“Report the bike missing. We can stick around for a bit if they want to talk to you.” He wouldn't like being involved in an official report, but it couldn't be helped.
Madison pulled her phone out of her pocket with a long-suffering sigh and tapped the screen.
He took the opportunity to text Emery the barest details and see about any footage. If they caught the Eleventh busting her bike it would be a nice way to wrap things up with them for now. He also warned CJ they had trouble. It would take time to mobilize the DEA, and he wanted to get the ball rolling.
“Hi, Matt, it's Madison.” Her voice was different.
Aiden brought up his e-mail, but couldn't help listening to her conversation.
“Sorry to bother you, but you said to call if I needed anything.” She sighed and paused. “I know, thanks, I appreciate that. I was out at Flagler Dog Track, I thought I'd hand out fliers for tomorrow's bout . . . Oh, you're coming? I'll be sure to look for you.” She cringed, a knee-jerk reaction she couldn't cover up. “My bike is missing. I have no idea where it is and no one here seems to remember it either.”
Detective Matt Smith would be at tomorrow's bout, huh? It was probably time to tell the good detective to shove off. Madison was his, and he didn't share.
He flipped back to his text messages and fired one off to Roni, who'd said she would attempt to make contact with the cop today. He'd been so wrapped up in Madison he hadn't asked for an update.
A new text rolled to the top from Gabriel, the shop's mechanic and jack-of-all-trades.
Got the parts in today
.
Aiden had to pause to think about what parts he was talking about before remembering the old Mustang they'd picked up at an auction for pennies.
Great. Let's set aside a few days next week to work on that. I need a favor. Can you find Madison some wheels?
“Okay, thanks, Matt. Let me know if you find out anything.” She sighed and hung up.
His phone chimed with another text.
 
Two wheels or four? Engine or no?
 
He snorted before replying.
 
Either, engine a must, dumbass
.
 
“What did he have to say?” Aiden asked.
“Nothing much. We'll look into it. Matt has been the guy they send out whenever something happens with Dustin, so I figured I'd save the cops the work and just call him directly.” She shrugged and dropped the phone into her lap.
“I'm getting one of the guys to look for a new set of wheels for you.” He turned once more toward her, wanting to ease her mind.
“You don't have to do that.”
Of course she'd say that.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don't, but I am. Should know something tomorrow.”
She took a deep breath and glanced toward the bright lights of the casino.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “It's going to be okay.”
“How can you be so certain?”
He wasn't, but she needed him to be.
“Tonight was a matter of wrong place, wrong time. I'll make it right. We just need to get the drive, and I can do the rest from there.”
“How do you do it all?”
I've got a team of FBI agents and people who might be considered criminals if they weren't working for the good of Miami in my back pocket.
“I know people. I learned a lot in the military. It becomes a useful combination.”
Madison had to know he wasn't telling her everything, and she didn't seem to mind. The strain eased from her face and her fingers twined with his, accepting the comfort and maybe his help.
“What now?” she asked.
“I wait for a call from a guy, and after that, we figure it out from there.”
“Should I ask who you're waiting to hear from?”
“Probably not.” The truth was, she'd only glimpsed two sides of him. Despite their afternoon, he'd barely told her anything about him.
She stared at him for a moment. “Okay. I won't ask any questions.”
Was this a mark of trust? He wasn't sure he liked it. The Madison he was growing to know was hardly what he'd expected. He wanted to bundle her up, keep her safe, and yet he knew if he tried she'd probably brain him with a softball bat.
“You sure that's a good idea?” he asked.
“No, but I don't have any options. I have to trust you.”
“You could always tell me to fuck off.”
“I could, but you might actually do it. Then where would I be? Walking home in the rain.”
“I'd at least call you a cab.”
“How generous.”
“I want you to know that I mean it when I say that things are going to turn out okay for you.” He needed her to know he wasn't yanking her chain, that he was serious.
“I know. Maybe I'm stupid for trusting you, but I do.”
“You aren't stupid.”
“I've done a lot of stupid things.”
“We all have. I'd wager some of my boneheaded decisions were worse than yours.”
“This is starting to sound like a who-has-the-bigger-dick contest.”
“I'd win that one.”
“I bet you would.” She tossed her head back and laughed. The sound of her laughter did something to him. He wanted to hear her laugh like that all the time, easy and uncomplicated. His grandmother would like her, even with her sailor's tongue.
“Here's what I'm thinking. Let me drive you back to your place. I'd like to take a look around, make sure you're safe. Ask Matt to step up the watch on the boat tonight. After that, why don't we figure out how to get you around tomorrow? Then we turn in for the night. Okay?”
Her throat flexed as she swallowed.
“Okay,” she replied. “Matt already said he's going to have someone at the marina.”
Aiden clenched his teeth. On one hand, that task was already done; on the other, he didn't like the detective being this involved in her life.
“Does that sound good to you, or would you prefer we do something else?”
“No, that's good. And Matt didn't say anything about meeting me here, so we can go.”
Her tears were gone and the tightness in his chest eased. Plus, it didn't appear as though she were too keen on seeing the detective.
Aiden reached across and cupped the back of her head, pulling her over for a quick kiss—because he wanted to. He pressed his lips to hers, intending for it to be nothing more than a momentary touch, but her hand tangled in the front of his shirt and she clutched the side of his face. She kissed him, drawing his lower lip between hers, sucking it and gently raking her teeth across the morsel. He groaned and slid his hand up into her hair, anchoring his hold and tilting her mouth just right.
Aiden wouldn't be leaving her with the twins tonight. He wouldn't be leaving her at all, at least not until she was free and clear of Dustin.
* * *
“You know where my boat is because you followed me, didn't you?”
Aiden steered the Chevelle into an out-of-the-way spot at the marina and shifted into park. They hadn't spoken much since leaving the dog track.
He turned toward her, a dozen answers flitting through his mind.
“It's okay. I guess, in a weird way, it's nice knowing someone who has my back knows where to find me. I don't exactly tell a lot of people where I live.” She tipped her chin up and pushed her hair back. A security lamp cast her in a pool of light. Her cop guards weren't here yet, so it was just the two of them.
“Like I told you, I had to be sure you were exactly who you said you were.”
“I'm done being hurt about it. Thanks for the ride home.” She reached for the door and he cut the engine.
“You shouldn't be alone right now. Dustin's getting panicked. I don't want to leave you on your own, especially now that Canales is gunning for you, too.” The cops were a start, but he wouldn't feel comfortable unless he were on the job himself.
“And you didn't think to mention this earlier?” She sat back in her seat, frowning at him.
“Earlier I didn't know things were getting this messy.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and glanced away.
“I'd say we could go back to my place, but Canales knows where I live and you have free security.” There was a very small bunk at the shop, but it wouldn't do for both of them, and he didn't think Madison would be comfortable there. Her boat was the best thing.
“What about a hotel? The boat's not that big.” She chewed her lip.
“If you'd prefer. We'll have to go somewhere that will take cash, no cards or IDs, just in case.”
“Forget it. This is probably easiest. But I told you—it's going to be cramped in there.”
He wouldn't bother telling her about the places he'd had to sleep while deployed. The missions he and Julian had to go on hadn't come with accommodations. Besides, he didn't need much.
He got out of the car and popped the trunk. The jobs he took often wound up putting him in odd positions overnight, so he'd learned to have a bag packed—just in case he also wound up with his car while stranded. It had happened a few times. Madison waited for him while he locked the car. There was an anxious strain to her features, manifesting in lines around her mouth and furrows on her brow.
What was wrong with the boat? Knowing Dustin, the only reason he'd let her escape the divorce with it was because it needed a lot of work. The mental image of her plugging holes with shirts and bailing water was enough to make him want to jump back in his car and go give Dustin a piece of what he had coming to him.
Madison led the way down the docks and to her slip. It was on the outskirts of the marina, and the wood seemed a little warped and worn with age; the other vessels alongside hers had seen better times.
“Do you sail?” he asked. They neared the white-and-blue sailboat.
“What? Me? No idea how.” She laughed.
“Then why did you get it?”

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