Games Girls Play (7 page)

Rose knew they had to go.

There was no way they could stay still, stay here like
sitting ducks. She could feel the pressure weighing on her, and Jane was
starting to show cracks around the edges. Now, if her body would just catch up
with her brain. She knew it was always worse once things started to heal, but
this stiffness was ridiculous.

Her feet were the worst; they itched and burned, ached bone-deep.
Bastards, hitting them over and over. She woke up every so often kicking at
them, even though they weren’t there.

Still, it was time. She brushed out her hair, braiding it
quickly, getting it off her face.

“Hey, baby. You look bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“Time to stop being in bed, lady. They’re going to find us.”

“They are.” Jane’s hair was back to her messy dark blonde,
and she looked like a redneck soccer mom. So cute.

“Well, I’m not in the mood for hand-to-hand combat right
now, so we need to get the fuck out of Dodge.” She was pretty sure it would be
a couple more weeks before her arm was up to a fight.

“I like it when you get your smart on.” Jane nodded sharply.
“I got us packed.’

“Good deal. I need some socks and a pair of your shoes.” She
looked at herself in the mirror, the bruises still lurid as fuck.

“And pants.” Jane’s eyes twinkled.

“Picky picky. I was considering just using the sheet as a
toga.”

“This is the deep south. Toga parties are the shit.” Handing
over a soft pair of pants and a t-shirt, Jane went to the bathroom.

She managed to get the shirt on her broken arm and then
finagle the rest, sweating like mad by the end.

“Sit a minute, baby.” Jane handed her a bottled water, and
she knew she had passed a test.

Fucking world. Fucking tests.

She sucked the water down, the liquid cold enough to make
her stomach cramp.

“Easy.” Jane sat next to her, bumping her good arm.

“I’m good. I am.” She was upright and functional.

“I know. I just want to make sure you can make it to the
car.”

I can. I won’t slow us down, lady. You have my word.” She’d
already fucked up enough. She wouldn’t put Jane in the crosshairs more than she
had already.

“Hey. I’m not an ops manager. I’m just your lover, okay? Ops
were over the second they tried to hang Shelly’s hit on you.”

“I know. That makes it more important. Way more.” She hadn’t
been without a handler since she’d been recruited when she was nineteen, picked
up during an anti-fracking protest that had grown teeth.

God, she’d been young.

Laughing, Jane hugged her a little, warm and giving. “Love
you, lady. Stop thinking so hard and let’s move.”

“Love.” She leaned in, resting hard against the firm, solid
body. Jane smelled so good—vanilla, basil and gun oil. It was as comforting as
a fuzzy pair of socks in winter. “Do you have a plan?”

“Florida. We have a huge variety of airports and ports, and
I know Marty has a forger there.”

Florida. All the nuts rolled downhill, she supposed. “We’re
driving, yeah?”

“We are.” Jane glanced at her sideways, lips quirking in a
grin. “I am.”

“Yeah. The accelerator could be tender after about, oh, a
millisecond.”

“Uh-huh. It would suck hard. I’m gonna go check the
perimeter cameras. I got me an itch.”

That was never good.

“I’ll get my socks and shoes—” Alarms went off, deep inside
the house, and she stood, grabbing their toiletries off the counter where they’d
kept them in go-ready mode. “Your itch was late. Time to go.”

“Shit. They’ve driven on the property. We’ve got five
minutes, tops.” Jane stuffed a few more things into a bag and grabbed her
Glock.

“Give me a piece.” Rose slipped the ammo bag on her
shoulder, then the electronics.

“You want the Ruger?”

“MK III?”

“Only the best for my girl.” Jane grabbed two sawed-off
shotguns and a semiautomatic rifle and a wad of cash as big as her head. “Ready?”

“Always.” The options were getting away or getting dead.
That was it.

“Yeah.” They managed to get everything in the car at the two
minutes and twenty second mark, Jane’s phone buzzing as they sat. She looked,
started the car, the Bluetooth picking up. “Marty.”

“Aaron killed Ben.”

“Shit.” Jane blew out a hard breath but the motion of the
car backing out of the driveway didn’t slow. “I’m sorry, buddy.”

Ben had been one of them when Rose was still in diapers. Ben
was a fucking legend.

“I’m not. He was dying. Cancer. It hurt. This was way more
fun than puking up his guts and shitting himself to death.” Marty sighed. “Tell
me you’re moving. They’re heading your way, girls. You need to hustle.”

She rolled her eyes. “Heading? Marty, the alarms are going
off.”

“Rosie? That you? They break anything important?”

“No, asshole. It’s Jane’s other woman. You remember, the
cute one?”

“Ah, right. The one in the corset.” Marty laughed. “Good to
know.”

“Okay, the alarms are going wild, man.” Jane didn’t look
like she was having fun, pushing the SUV through a bit of underbrush that swung
open to expose a theoretically paved trail.

“Yeah, I’m behind the first wave. Don’t stress your former
handler. He’s on my plate now. The guy’s that are coming, they’re Feds and
Homeland Security.”

She looked at Jane and pulled the shotgun from the back
seat, just in case.

Jane pulled up, then threw the engine in park and jumped
out, resetting the camouflaged gate.

Marty’s voice was low. “You girls need to get out of there.
Check in with me when you have a new phone. I’m going to hang back.”

Rose nodded, even though Marty couldn’t see her. “See you,
Martin. Have a good one.”

The gate reset, Jane slid back in the driver’s seat and
started moving. Rose could only guess how many hundreds of times her lady had
practiced this getaway, not even seeming to pay attention as the barely visible
road twisted and turned.

Jane headed out, driving slow and quiet, pushing through the
trees. The underbrush was heavy, almost impassable, but Jane just kept moving,
pushing the car like a metal rhinoceros into the brush.

“Don’t worry, Rosie. I know where I’m going.”

“I know you do.” She patted Jane’s leg. “I’m sorry. I know
you like this house.”

“I do. I love you, though, and we’ll have a new house.”

“We will.” They had spent long hours in bed talking about
Tuscany or Amalfi and the villa they would have. How they would make love in
the late afternoon sun and drink wine they had to strain through their teeth.
The coffee too. Lord, they had good coffee in Italy.

After a good twenty minutes, the underbrush started to
clear, the sky blue and bright above them. “We’re almost there, Rose.”

“I’ve got your back.”

Jane nodded, then leaned over and pulled a garage door
opener from the glove compartment. “There’s batteries in there. Find them and
put them in.”

Jane turned onto a potted road, the car’s shocks protesting.

It took her a minute to get the batteries in with her fucked-up
arm, but she did it. “Okay, done.”

“Just hold on a sec.” Jane swerved to miss a pothole the
size of a small third-world country.

The sound of a heavy vehicle rattled down the road opposite
them. Man, they were sending troops. Rose was flattered.

“Okay, baby. Hit the button.”

“You’re gonna let them in?” She did it, though, trusting
Jane with all her heart.

The explosion that sounded almost knocked them off the
frontage road and Rose looked back over her shoulder, feeling a little like Lot’s
wife. The column of fire that was rising up into the sky was spectacular as
fuck.

“Wow.”

Jane nodded. “That’ll keep them busy for a couple hours.”

“You think?” That was going to tie the Feds up with media
for days. Impressive. Rose couldn’t wait to see how everyone spun this.

“I do.” Jane’s lips were tight. “Fireworks for you, lady.”

“Thanks. They’re spectacular.”

As soon as they got to a major highway, Jane floored it,
heading south. That had been a nice slip right through the net.

“Impressive.” She applauded, her heart pounding now that
they’d made it through.

“Thank you.” Jane chuckled. “We’ll need to stop for a new
phone.”

“We can do it in Florida.”

No one they wanted to talk to was going to call now.

Hell, Marty was probably still cussing them for blowing the
house sky high. Still, Marty needed to tell her about Ben, and she needed to
let him know they were about to fall off the map.

They made good time, Jane relaxing more as they outpaced the
sirens and the blue lights heading north. She would miss that house, for sure,
but it was a worthy sacrifice.

“How do you feel about Popeyes?” she asked, knowing full
well Rose hated fast food.

“Bitch. Stop and get you those awful chicken strips.”

“I can get you the dirty rice and a biscuit.” Rose could
never resist a biscuit.

“Maybe a biscuit, and I’ll share your onion rings.”

She chuckled, pulling off the highway. They’d have at least
half an hour before the team that had been at the house explosion could even
hear, let alone get a web of agents on a hunt for them. They needed to eat.

“I figure we’ll get drive-through and then park somewhere
out of the way.”

“Works for me, Jane.”

She glanced sideways at Rose, checking for alertness.

Her girl looked exhausted, but present. There. Pale as milk.
She wanted Rose back up to fighting trim, damn it.

“I’m working on it. I’ll be right soon.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Jane pursed her lips against a grin. “Did you get hit on the
head and become psychic, baby?”

“You found my secret. I’m a mind reader.”

They pulled up and ordered. Onion rings, biscuits and
chicken strips. Two iced teas, unsweet. She parked a few blocks away at a
nightclub, which was closed for the day.

Rose buttered her biscuit and nibbled, eyes on the passing
traffic. “We’re making good time.”

“We are.” Jane was pleased, but she knew they’d still have
to play it carefully.

She had plane tickets under three different names and four
different cruises set up. They were going to cruise to St. Maarten, spend a
week, then take another boat to Spain. From there, they’d take the train.

She had half a dozen passports lined up for both of them, as
well. That was another reason she needed to touch base with Marty again. His
forger was the best in the business.

There were a thousand places to get burn phones between here
and Fort Lauderdale, maybe more. She figured they’d eat, she’d run in
somewhere, drive and then do it again. With Rose’s bruises, she was memorable
as fuck.

Jane, on the other hand, was doing the plain thing. Add
sunglasses and a cap, and she was golden.

Rose stole an onion ring, nibbling at it. “They’re not bad.”

“Nope. There’s more biscuits in the box. Honey too.”

“Mmm. Dessert biscuit.”

“Sweet tooth.”

“Nag,” Rose teased.

Jane grinned. They’d had this conversation a million times.

She snarfed up the rest of her chicken, then stole another
of her own onion rings. She’d have a biscuit too. Or two.

The pun was funny—at least to her tired mind—and she
chuckled.

“What?” Rose nibbled the coating off an onion ring.

“I don’t know if it’ll be funny out loud.”

“Uh-huh. One of your awful puns.”

“You know it.” Rose sighed softly. “We need to move. They’ll
have my picture flashing around.”

“Yeah, but as a little busty Mexican
señorita
, not as
an Irish rose.”

“True enough. And you were the redhead last time we were out
together, huh?”

“I was. It was a shit look on me.”

“I thought the fake mole was perfect.”

Jane laughed, touching the spot on her cheek where the fake
mole had sat. To her surprise, Rose leaned over and those lips brushed that
spot, soft, gentle.

“Mmm.” They were in a car in a public parking lot, and her
girl was kissing her. Crazy stuff.

“Finish your food, Jane. I want on a boat. I want in the
sun. I want the fuck out of here so we can pretend it’ll be okay.”

“We’re not gonna have to pretend.” She crumpled up the trash
and started up the car.

“No? You think we can do it? Pull it off?”

“I do. I have something of a plan.” Jane knew it was their
own people after them. She had an idea or two how to cash in some bargaining
chips.

“You? A plan? We’re going to be amazing.”

“Ha-ha. I am the sniper, not the hand-to-hand pantser.” Jane
always had a plan.

“Hand-to-hand pantser?
Moi
?” Rose gave her the
wide-eyed innocent look, and Jane cracked up.

“Sure, baby. You’re by the book.”

“Absolutely. A rules rapist, all the way. Why aren’t you
driving?”

“Nag, nag, nag.” Jane got them moving again because Rose was
right. Always keep the wheels spinning.

“Yep. And now you’re stuck with me, for the long term.”

“I am. Go me!” She pulled back on the highway, watching to
make sure she hadn’t picked up a tail.

Rose was awake now, alert, eyes on the rearview. “Looks
clear.”

“Yeah. So far so good.” Florida. Then a boat.

“You. Me. All-you-can-eat buffets.”

“Hell, yes. Late-night cookies on the balcony.”

“Soaking in the hot tub.” Rose was getting into it now.

“Soaking in the sun for me. Sunscreen for you.” Poor Rose
would burn and burn.

“God, yes. We need a room with a balcony.”

Jane made a note to put them on a new cruise with a spa
suite. The other three she’d booked had balconies, but she could use a whole
new card, get them a little luxury. Rose would think that was a hoot.

As they sped south, Rose came to rest, head on her shoulder.
She wrapped her right arm around Rose’s shoulder, glad the car wasn’t a
standard.

“Love you, lady.” The words were soft, quiet, well-meant.

“Good deal. That will keep us afloat even without a balcony.”

God, at some point she’d become a romantic.

How fucking hilarious was that?